Aqui está a tradução da sua fanfic para
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(On a plain)
A group of people was on a journey, riding creatures that resembled horses.
"Can someone tell me where we're going?" asked Henry, sitting on his horse.
His horse was being led by another one up front.
"No," the mage replied bluntly.
She was riding right behind him. They had waited for her to join the group before setting off.
Henry turned around on his saddle to face her.
The two stared at each other for a moment. She looked at him with a judging glare.
"Why are you looking at me like that? Are you falling for me? Just so you know, I'm married. I can't get involved with you..." said Henry.
The mage's eyes briefly glowed as she used a bit of magic.
She made his horse rear up suddenly.
Henry fell off, landing flat on his back.
"Ugh..." he groaned in pain.
"Nice trick... You'll have to teach me that one," he said.
The mage rolled her eyes. "You don't have the talent for it. Put him back on the horse."
They crossed rivers, mountains, and made camp while it was still daylight.
Henry was still shackled, sitting near the fire. The mage was nearby.
An eagle landed close by.
Henry saw it and didn't even flinch—he had seen far stranger things before.
"This is the first time I've seen one of you... You're good with animals. You all have a name, don't you?"
He paused. "Mages... I thought you were just a myth. Even after everything I've seen, I imagined you'd be taller. With beards. And ugly. You don't look anything like I expected," said Henry.
The mage rolled her eyes again and stood up.
(Dense forest)
"You guys know I can see everything, right? Trees everywhere..." said Henry, still riding his horse.
A bag covered his head to prevent him from seeing anything.
They rode for several more hours and eventually arrived at a hidden cave, its entrance concealed by thick bushes.
They led him into the rebel hideout.
Only after entering did they remove the bag from his head.
Henry saw several people inside the cave, which had a natural opening in the ceiling that let in light. Torches lined the walls.
He climbed down from his horse.
His legs ached as he landed.
"Someone help me get these off, please..." he said, referring to the thick kryptonite shackles.
The rebels looked at him with odd expressions.
The mage gave a nod to one of them.
Two rebels stepped forward and gestured for Henry to follow.
In a corner of the cave, there was an area for cutting and forging—tools and weapons everywhere.
Among them was something resembling a hydraulic cutter.
Two men walked over and picked it up.
Henry held out his wrists.
"Finally... let's get these things off," he said with relief.
The rebels tried to cut through the shackles. They tried again. And again. Nothing worked.
"Don't you have anything stronger?"
They exchanged looks and led him to another section filled with cutting equipment.
There was an electric saw designed to slice through heavy metal.
The rebels grabbed it and approached.
"Hold still," one of them warned.
Even they were affected by the kryptonite as they got closer, but they pushed through.
"Just don't chop off my hand..." Henry said.
"You don't have many left to lose anyway," one of the rebels joked.
"Don't remind me," Henry muttered, a bit somber. Losing his hand had seriously weakened his combat ability—something he knew he'd have to fix someday.
They finally broke the shackles.
They fell to the ground with a heavy thud that shook the floor.
It felt like a mountain had been lifted off Henry's back.
His mind cleared. His strength began to return—slowly.
"Thanks... really," Henry said.
The rebels led him to another room.
There were two men inside. One was tall. The other shorter, with a mustache.
"Sit," the tall one said.
They, like the rest of the rebels, wore simple clothing—commoner attire.
Henry sat across from him at a table.
"I don't know who you are, but I'm guessing you're the leader," said Henry.
"What makes you think that?" the man asked.
"You look like one."
"You're right. I'm responsible for the people here. But why ask?" the man replied.
"Because I owe you. You saved my life. I'm in your debt," Henry said, bowing his head.
The two men exchanged looks.
Valen was the leader of this rebel group. Next to him stood Reed, a skilled archer.
"Alright, no more small talk," Henry said. "I saw what happened to your men—many died. What do you expect from me?"
Valen stood and approached him.
"I want you to free our people. Lead us. You're our king... aren't you?"
"I'm no king. Not anymore..." Henry replied, memories of the Flaxan dimension rushing back.
He sighed and asked something that had weighed on him for a long time.
"I'm looking for someone... My sister. Do you know where she is?"
"She's safe. Your friends and my men are escorting her here. They ran into each other on the road."
"That's good... I'm glad they're okay," Henry said, thinking of the group that had journeyed with him.
Lost in thought, he heard a voice.
"Are you sure we got the right guy? He doesn't look like much," said Reed.
Henry looked at the man with a cocky smile.
"I bet you wouldn't last fifteen seconds against me," Henry challenged.
"I bet you'd lose in ten," Reed smirked.
The two stared each other down.
"You're on," said Henry.
His powers were returning—still not fully, but steadily.
They headed to an open space in the hideout.
Rebels gathered to watch the fight.
Reed struck first—fast and precise.
His punch landed square on Henry's nose. Henry was still recovering.
Both had swords in hand.
They clashed. Metal against metal. Sparks flew.
They traded blow after blow, blades slashing from every direction.
Henry struck hard.
Reed blocked with both hands and knocked Henry's blade aside, spinning him around.
Then he kicked him right in the backside.
Henry turned, grinning.
"Is that all you've got? I knew we caught the wrong guy," Reed taunted.
Henry stood up.
They started again.
But this time was different.
Henry moved faster. Stronger.
At first, Reed had the upper hand—but now it felt like Henry's power had surged out of nowhere.
Reed's strikes barely budged him anymore.
Even at full strength.
Eventually, Reed gave up, smiling faintly.
"Hmph. About what I expected, Your Majesty," he said sarcastically.
He grabbed a drink.
"A toast to the king," Reed said, raising his cup.
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Henry spent some time in the rebel hideout, drinking, getting to know the people. Most treated him well. Some didn't like him—blaming him for comrades who had died—but others still had hope in him. That he could be a leader, maybe something more. The last time he ruled, it hadn't gone well.
He lay resting in one of the rooms, waiting for his friends and sister to arrive.
He thought it was all over... until he noticed strange activity in the camp.
He got up and ran downstairs.
"What's going on?" Henry asked.
"A group was intercepted. They were on their way here," said a rebel.
"It can't be..." Henry whispered.
He ran to Reed, who was gearing up to leave.
"Where are they?" Henry asked, anxious.
"North of here. Near the hills," Reed answered.
Henry didn't wait. He didn't even put on a shirt.
He bolted from the camp, leaving everyone behind.
"Wait—we're coming with you!" Reed shouted.
But Henry didn't stop.
The rebel hideout was nestled on a steep hill.
Henry used his legs and jumped straight down.
He ran, leaping with incredible force—sliding each time he landed.
His strength wasn't fully back yet, but enough for super jumps.
"I hope they're still alive..." Henry murmured as he pushed forward.
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