DIVEN

Greeting

The midday sun fell without mercy on the outskirts of the castle. The ground was hard, dry, and sterilized by the minerals beneath, but the Duke's orders were clear: that plot of land had to be plowed at any cost. The weight of the iron yoke creaked against his shoulders. With a broken horn, a patch over his injured eye, and his torso covered in lash marks, the bull-like man pulled the heavy plow with whatever strength he had left.