Glorious 27

The Supreme Forest was deadly, yes, but it was also sacred home to lost techniques and ancient spirits. If Tyler had entered it alone, it was near impossible he would have returned 

like this. 

Someone had guided him, But who? 

Who sent this boy into the forest? Who trained him? Who shaped this kind of healer? His thoughts were still swirling when the sound of footsteps pulled him from his focus. 

The king had moved down from his throne and walked over slowly, robes trailing softly 

behind him. 

He stopped beside the Elder and leaned in just slightly, his voice low but laced with command. 

“I want to know everything about that young man,” the king said, eyes still locked on the doors where Tyler had exited. 

His family. His background. Where he comes from. Who raised him. What shaped him.” 

The king’s tone wasn’t casual it was heavy with intent. 

“I want names. I want his history, I want truths.” 

Immediately Edda bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment, face calm but serious. 

“As you wish, my king,” he replied. “I will send a messenger immediately. You will have every 

Chapter 27 

detail you ask for.” 

** 

+25 BONU 

The light lining the narrow corridor flickered softly, casting long shadows across the cold stone walls as Tyler followed closely behind the royal guard. 

Each step echoed down the spiral stairs that led into the underground belly of the palace a place few noble feet had ever touched, and fewer ever wanted to. 

The further they descended, the thicker the air became. Damp, Laced with pain, old cries, and broken silence. 

Tyler’s eyes scanned everything sharply, alert despite the exhaustion clinging to his limbs. His jaw clenched. His breath slowed. 

This was where they brought the unwanted that king what to punish, it was an old way of punishment, Outside the government own, which the police would arrest and then law court. 

The thieves, the forgotten. 

It wasn’t just a holding cell. It was punishment wrapped in stone. 

When they reached the final gate, the guard took a heavy iron key from his waist, inserted it into the rusted lock, and pulled the door open with a metallic groan that filled the air with 

tension. 

Without wasting anymore Tyler stepped in, The hall inside was lined with barred cells on both 

sides. 

Inside them, faces emerged from the darkness filthy, sunken, hollow–eyed. 

Some were silent, broken beyond speech, Others whimpered softly. 

One or two reached out weakly, hands trembling, not in hope but in instinct. 

Still Tyler’s gaze remained forward, but the sorrow beneath his calm exterior deepened, and then–he heard it, 

A voice, it was Soft, cracked, trembling. 

“I’m sorry… I’m very, very sorry…” 

It was a woman’s voice, and a familiar one. 

She was crying. 

“I didn’t mean to cross the line,” she continued, sobbing gently. “I didn’t even go in fully. The line was… I stayed near it. I didn’t mean to do anything bad. Please… forgive me. I’m sorry…” 

At that moment Tyler’s heart dropped. He knew that voice. 

Without wasting anymore time he started rushing forward And then crack! A hot. vicious. 

+25 BONU 

sound exploded in the air 

A slap 

Flesh to flesh. 

Loud enough to ring through the cell block. 

The woman screamed faintly in pain. 

“You better be grateful,” a cold male voice snapped immediately after. “Just be grateful nobody reported your son.” 

At that moment Tyler froze. His fists clenched. 

The voice continued, thick with arrogance. 

“If they had, your precious boy would be here too.” 

Then he scoffed. 

“And believe me–he wouldn’t be spared. Not even for a second. Your son should have been here by now. He should be down here… being dealt with the same way you’re about to be dealt with.” 

At that moment the cell block dimmed even further as the guard stepped fully into view, his expression twisted with cold authority and petty cruelty. 

He held something tightly in his hand. 

It was a long, coiled leather whip. 

Its surface was dark, worn from years of use but the edges were sharp, cracked with age and spite. The moment he unrolled it, it let out a dry hiss that echoed across the stone corridor like 

a warning. 

Tyler’s mother, kneeling against the cold floor, lifted her head just in time to see it stretch out in the man’s hand. 

“No… please ” 

“CRACK!!” 

The first stroke landed across her back with vicious force. 

Immediately her body jolted forward. 

A sharp gasp escaped her lips as pain ripped through her thin frame. The ragged, old cloth she wore offered no protection, a red line quickly appeared beneath the torn fabric. 

But before she could even cry out fully- 

“CRACK!!” 

Chapter 27 

+25 BONUS 

Another lash struck her shoulder blade, this one even harder than the last. 

She whimpered biting her lip, tears instantly forming in her weary eyes. 

At that moment her hands pressed against the floor, trying to hold herself up. 

And then- 

“CRACK!” 

The third blow came like thunder, lashing down across her spine with a snap so loud, it made some of the other prisoners flinch inside their cells. 

Her body collapsed fully now, her hands trembling as she reached for the iron bars beside her for balance. 

But she couldn’t scream, she couldn’t curse, She couldn’t fight back. 

But Instead she cried. 

Tears streamed down her, dirt–streaked cheeks as her lips trembled, not from rage… but from 

heartbreak. 

“I’m sorry…” she whispered between sobs. “I didn’t mean to cross the line…” 

Her voice cracked like dry wood as she struggled to speak through the pain. 

“I… I just want to see my son now…” 

Her head hung low now, her body shaking with each breath. 

“I thought… I thought I lost him,” she cried softly. “It’s been five long years…” 

Her fingers clawed weakly at the floor, as if begging the earth itself to let her go. 

“I just want to be with him again…” 

The guard stood over her with the whip, still ready to strike. 

“I’ll never come here again,” she sobbed, her voice a whisper now. “Please… forgive me. I’ll never come here again in my life.” 

The sound of Tyler’s mother sobbing filled the corridor like a prayer too weak to reach heaven. 

And then a cold, arrogant laugh sliced through the air. 

It came from a woman standing just a few paces behind the guard. Draped in a silk robe, adorned with gold earrings and too much pride, she stood with her arms folded smugly across 

her chest. 

Her eyes burned with spite, she took a few slow steps forward and sneered at the old woman crumpled on the stone floor. 

“Look at you now,” she spat, her voice oozing with cruelty. “You wretched old witch.” 

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