Run: 2026-02-25-01KJBKP3ZM6MR7S2MJM9C2BGRR

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Weight of Steel" data-color="red"> I pulled the reins tight, bringing Thunder to a halt before the wooden doors of the stables. The scent of hay and damp earth filled the air as I swung down from the saddle. Before I could even reach for the lead rope, a shadow detached itself from the darkness of the entrance. Sir Roland stepped forward, the plates of his armor gleaming dully in the fading light. He did not smile. His eyes, hard as flint, scanned me from my worn boots to the crest of my helmet. "You are late, squire," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in my chest. "The road does not care for your excuses, and neither do I." He extended a gauntleted hand, not to shake, but to test the weight of my sword hilt. "Welcome to the end of your childhood. Here, steel speaks louder than words." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Keeper of Stables" data-color="green"> Thunder nickered softly as I dismounted, patting his neck to calm the nervous energy of the journey. The stables were warm, smelling of sweet clover and fresh straw. Leaning against a sturdy oak post, Sir Roland watched me with a gentle smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. He wore no armor, only a simple tunic of forest green, blending with the shadows of the eaves. "A fine beast you have there," he said, stepping forward to stroke Thunder's muzzle. The horse seemed to trust him instantly. "I am Sir Roland, and I will be your guide in these walls. Training is not just about the sword, Frederick. It is about the heart that holds it." He placed a hand on my shoulder, warm and steady. "Rest now. Tomorrow, we begin the work of becoming more than men." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: Shadows and Silence" data-color="blue"> The sky had turned the color of bruised plums by the time I tethered Thunder to the hitching post. The air was cool, carrying the scent of rain from the mountains. Sir Roland was already waiting in the gloom of the stable doorway, a silhouette against the torchlight flickering inside. He did not move as I approached, standing as still as the stone pillars of the castle. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, like water flowing over deep stones. "The Last Dragon is a myth to some," he said, his gaze piercing through the twilight. "But the duty remains. I am Roland, and I have watched the road for many years." He gestured for me to follow him into the dim light. "Come. The night is long, and there are lessons that can only be taught when the world is quiet." </nc-section>