Run: 2026-09-02-01M1H5CBXPD5D7QF4W0T4D05K7

<nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Knight's Welcome (Version 1)" data-color="red"> As I reined Thunder to a halt near the stables, a tall figure in gleaming plate armor approached. His scarred face broke into a warm smile. "You must be young Frederick," Sir Roland said, extending a gauntleted hand. "I've been expecting you since dawn. The roads are treacherous these days—now more than ever." I dismounted and took his hand, surprised by its gentleness. "Thank you, Sir Roland. It's an honor to train under you." "Honor comes later, boy. First, feed that magnificent beast of yours and get some rest." His eyes drifted to the darkening horizon, where storm clouds gathered unnaturally. "Tomorrow, your training begins. And I fear you'll need every ounce of strength I can teach you." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Knight's Welcome (Version 2)" data-color="green"> The stables smelled of hay and oiled leather. I was brushing down Thunder when a gruff voice sounded behind me. "So, the squire finally arrives." I turned to find a broad-shouldered knight leaning against a post, arms crossed. His armor was dented and practical, nothing like the polished ceremonial plates I'd imagined. "Sir Roland?" I stammered. "The very same. And you're late." He pushed off the post and circled me slowly, appraising me like a horse at market. "Skinny. Green. But your seat in that saddle wasn't half bad." He gave a short laugh. "Perhaps the old man didn't waste his coin on you after all. Come, boy. Your lessons start at first light, and I promise you—by week's end, you'll be cursing the day you ever wanted to be a knight." </nc-section> <nc-section data-title="Chapter 2: The Knight's Welcome (Version 3)" data-color="blue"> Sir Roland was waiting at the stable gates, a cloak drawn against the evening chill. He looked older than his reputation suggested, with silver threading his dark beard and a weariness in his eyes that no armor could hide. "Frederick." He spoke my name like he was testing it. "Your father's son, then. He saved my life once, in the wars." "He never spoke of it, my lord." "He wouldn't." Roland gave a sad smile and gestured toward the castle. "Come. There's a warm meal and a hot fire inside, and things I must tell you before you sleep. Things about your father. And things about the dragon." My heart stopped. "The... dragon?" The knight's expression grew grave. "Tomorrow, boy. Tonight, eat and rest. But brace yourself—your training here was never just about swordplay." </nc-section>