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“These walls are impenetrable!” Exclaimed Lord Callidus. “After all these years I will finally have the most secure place of all, even better than the very King’s palace!” Lord Jeremiah Callidus has spent over 30 years trying to build the strongest wall that has existed, hiring the world’s most talented scholars, builders, and architects to work on his massive project. Creating this wall would be a grand feat; if it were to work Lord Callidus, and everyone involved, would be awarded greatly, along with receiving hundreds of bids from rich men and even royalty from around the world for this wonderful material.

It took about 20 years to create this amazing new substance, dubbed Callidian Stone, and 10 more years to erect the giant wall around his estate and the surrounding settlement. He lived there for the rest of his life, turning down all the bids for his secret material.

Sadly, that did not last. Lord Callidus died of old age, 63 years, and gave all his possessions to his only family, his nephew Jonathan Carmon. Jonathan Carmon, now Lord Carmon, was not a smart and humble man like his uncle, he was greedy, arrogant, and selfish. At the first chance he got, he sold large amounts of Callidian Stone at ridiculous prices to numerous noblemen around the world, becoming one of the richest men alive.

He expanded upon his uncle’s lands and turned a manor overlooking a small village into a ginormous fortress with a vast private army to protect it, the secret to making the Stone, a grand treasure-trove of riches, and Lord Carmon himself. He thought he was safe, living in a giant shell with his massive wealth thinking the world was all at the tips of his fingers, as if he were some sort of puppet master who could pull the strings of life with his money and get everything he wanted. He thought he was invincible.

At an age of 22, Michael the Clever was viewed as being too young and inexperienced to be an ideal leader for his people, a small nation of people viewed as barbarians by the neighboring empire, in which Lord Carmon resided. The only reason why his title was “the Clever” was because of his father, the previous leader, who regarded him to be a clever boy who never tried to apply his knowledge into practice.

Now that his father was gone and the nation left to him, he either had to win over the favor of his people, or face a painful death in a revolt. For months, he has been planning to commit a miracle, to awe his people and the larger empires that have been bullying them around for centuries, to prove that he actually deserves the title of Michael the Clever.

His day finally came when he found out about Lord Carmon’s great citadel. He knew of the rumors that implied the walls were impenetrable, the soldiers highly trained and numerous, and the riches hidden away in a secret and secure vault. But Michael knew that if the walls really were impenetrable, the soldiers would be lazy, lulled into a false sense of protection from the supposedly indestructible walls.

There were many attempts made at the walls by raiders, bandits, and other noblemen with men and money to spare, but all of them were futile. Mining through the walls took too long and the picks would always break, explosives didn't leave as much as a blast mark, and scaling the walls with ladders would be impossible; they were too high and the guards were too many.

I could try and sneak them in, Michael thought, no, that would take too long and they’d all stand out like a sore thumb. He turned away from his desk, which was cluttered with maps, charts, letters, and crumpled papers, and walked to his bedside window. He looked outside into the cool night and followed the smooth bends of the river with his eyes, the rippling water reflecting moonlight back in his eyes.

To leave an impression I will have to destroy that wall, but how? The question has haunted his for week, he has been agonizing over this to no avail, all his plans were too difficult to put onto action, or too expensive, or just plain stupid. What will be strong enough to destroy that wall? Our explosives are too weak to even tickle the surface of that thing. His eyes darted up to the moon, a big, and pale square in the sky, looking down at everyone and everything with no worry whatsoever.

Then it struck him, Michael smiled, revealing his slightly yellowing and crooked teeth. He let out a small chuckle and turned his back to the window. “Tomorrow I make preparations,” He stated. “Tomorrow I will prove myself worthy.”