They Hated Me in My First Life, But Now I Have the Love System
Chapter 344: Did Not Flinch

Chapter 344: Did Not Flinch

The command was casual, cold. Like he was choosing the first act in a play, not a man’s final breath.

Gasps rose from the group. Ruth’s hand tightened around her father’s. Mesha took one step forward, face calm, almost noble, though his eyes quietly searched his daughter’s one last time.

King Eglon’s reason was clear.

Mesha was the lion. The steady one. The threat.

He had to go first.

The guards stepped forward to carry out the King’s command.

John clenched his fists but did not speak.

Ekene closed his eyes.

Nnenna turned her head away.

Abuchi muttered a prayer under his breath.

As the guards came closer to take Mesha, Ruth and her mother instantly rushed to his side.

“No! No, please don’t take him!” Ruth’s voice cracked, raw and trembling. Her arms wrapped tightly around her father’s waist, refusing to let go. Her mother clung to his other side, sobbing into his shoulder as if holding on could somehow freeze time.

“You can not take him,” his wife whispered, over and over again.

But Mesha only smiled softly, despite the pain in his eyes. He placed one hand gently on Ruth’s head, the other on his wife’s back.

“It’s alright,” he whispered.

His voice was calm, like a lighthouse in a storm. But it only made Ruth cry harder.

“Don’t say that,” she sobbed, shaking her head violently.

The moment was heartbreak carved into flesh.

But the guards, unmoved by tears or love, stepped in.

“Move aside,” one barked.

Ruth’s mother let out a scream as one of them grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

Ruth held on tighter.

“Please, don’t!” she cried.

That was when Abuchi rushed forward and wrapped both Ruth and her mother in his arms, pulling them back protectively just as the guards tore Mesha away.

“Let him go!” Ruth shrieked. “Let go of him!”

“I’m sorry,” Mesha said softly, locking eyes with them. “Don’t watch.”

But they did. They could not look away.

As he was pulled up the steps of the platform, his figure stood tall, proud, even in chains.

Abuchi held Ruth’s trembling frame as she buried her face into his shoulder. Her mother collapsed into his other arm, weeping in silence, the kind of silence that screamed the loudest.

The sound of Mesha’s boots on the wooden stage echoed across the courtyard. One step. Then another. Then another.

And still, King Eglon popped popcorn into his mouth, as if he were watching the final scene of his favorite movie.

The sun blazed high, casting sharp shadows across the silent execution ground. Every soul in the courtyard held their breath as Mesha stood alone on the platform, bound but unbowed, his calm defiance igniting a quiet fire in the hearts of everyone watching.

King Eglon lounged in his throne like chair with an unnerving grin, flicking a piece of popcorn into his mouth. He turned to one of his men and snapped his fingers. “Bring the camera. Set it up. I want them all to see, every last fool still clinging to hope.”

The guards obeyed swiftly. A military grade livestream rig was wheeled in, aimed straight at the platform. One of Eglon’s aides tapped a screen. A red light blinked on. The broadcast went live.

Across the nation, no, beyond, people stopped what they were doing.

The image of Mesha, restrained and standing tall beneath the harsh sun, filled screens of all sizes. Phones lit up in crowded marketplaces, in airports, in quiet villages.

In rooms, hands covered mouths. In open courtyards, fists clenched in anger. Tears welled up. The chat exploded:

“No… no this can not be happening.”

” King Mesha has saved us more than once!”

“We stand with you, King Mesha!”

@HopefulHeart: No! They can not do this! King Mesha fought for us!

@RoyalBloodMatters: Finally. One less rebel.

@FreedomNow99: This is wrong! He does not deserve this!

@IronFistSupporter: Eglon is doing what must be done. Weakness has no place.

@Tears4Truth: I can’t watch. Someone stop this, please.

The support for Mesha was overwhelming.

Hashtags stormed the top trends:

#StandWithKingMesha

#ExecutionDay

#PurlitLives

#ThisIsNotJustice

Eglon watched the screen with sick delight. “Let them all see their last hope die before their eyes. This is how you crush rebellion, not with force, but with despair.”

The executioner stepped forward, cloaked in black, face covered. He drew the great ceremonial blade, a massive, curved weapon forged not just to kill, but to humiliate. It glinted in the sunlight, casting a glimmer across Mesha’s face.

Still, Mesha did not flinch. He looked beyond the crowd, beyond the camera, beyond the chains. His lips moved silently, perhaps a prayer, or a goodbye.

The crowd online grew hysterical.

“Mesha, please fight!”

“Where is the army?!”

“Do something!”

And then

The executioner raised the sword.

Time slowed. Gasps echoed. Mesha closed his eyes.

But before the sword could descend

BOOOOOOM!

A violent, earth shaking explosion tore through the air.

The sound was so loud, so deep, that the ground at the execution field trembled beneath everyone’s feet. Dust crumbled from the castle walls. Birds scattered from the sky. People screamed and staggered, clutching their ears.

The noise came from the castle gate, far away, yet powerful enough to reach the very heart of the execution ground.

Gasps rose from the watching crowd.

Then came the sounds.

CLANG!

CLASH!

SHOUTS!

Steel slammed into steel. War cries rang out. The clash of swords, the stamp of feet, it was unmistakable.

There was a battle at the castle gate.

A guard rushed to the platform, panic on his face. “Your Majesty!” he shouted, voice cracking. “The gate, they’ve breached it! The fighting… it’s already inside!”

Chaos exploded. Screams. Rushing feet. Confusion. The livestream caught everything.

The executioner froze, sword still raised.

The castle was under siege.

Screams filled the air. The clash of steel echoed louder now, more chaotic, more urgent. Smoke curled above the battlements in the distance. The sound of war had swallowed the execution ground.