A crystal-clear river cut through the verdant forest, reflecting the sun's rays between the canopies. The stones of the riverbed glistened in shades of amber and light gray, smooth under the current. On the banks, horses drank in silence while the soldiers rested, their black armor gleaming in the light filtered through the leaves.
Rillen stood under a sturdy tree, his eyes fixed on the trail they had come from. A middle-aged man approached the baron with snow-white hair and a long silver sword strapped to his waist. It was Rolsvince.
"I didn't expect to see you here, Rolsvince." said Rillen in a light, almost nostalgic tone.
"Yes." he replied with a calm smile. "And you were always on the front line. It was you who helped my family gain a foothold in the city. If it hadn't been for your help, I would have been dead a long time ago."
Rillen sharpened his dagger with mechanical movements, his eyes never leaving his friend's face.
"Why did you come to me? I thought you were looking after your family." he asked, his tone now slightly questioning.
Rolsvince moved closer, lowering his voice.
"Rillen... did you get the killer? There's something I need to tell you. Come on, walk with me."
"Of course." Rillen replied, putting the blade away. "It's been a while since we last talked like men and not soldiers."
They both entered the forest, disappearing into the shadows and the rustling of the leaves. The sound of hooves and water became distant.
After a few minutes of silence, they stopped among the trees.
Rolsvince shook his head, as if weighing up his next words. Then he looked his friend in the eye.
"My old friend... I..."
He hesitated.
KA!
The metallic sound cut through the silence like thunder.
Rolsvince drew his sword in a single movement and launched it in a treacherous arc at Rillen's waist. The baron reacted instinctively, stepping back and using his dagger to deflect the blow. But the impact was too violent - the smaller blade shattered with a dry snap.
"You...!" Rillen gasped, stunned, taking two steps back.
The betrayal had hit him deeper than the blade ever could. He faced the man he had called brother, ally and friend for decades. But Rolsvince said no more. His eyes were cold. He advanced again, mercilessly.
Meanwhile, in the distance, columns of dust rose from the ground.
A troop of horsemen emerged from the horizon, galloping towards the soldiers in black armor. The sound of hooves mingled with the metallic clamor of swords being drawn.
The inevitable was happening: the battle between the houses had begun.
In the heart of the forest, among leaves and blood, Rillen and Rolsvince exchanged blows with fury and sorrow.
But the difference between them was glaring.
In a few seconds, with an agile turn and a precise kick, Rillen disarmed Rolsvince. The traitor's sword flew away, crashing into a tree. He fell to his knees, powerless to resist.
Rillen stood still, gasping, his hand still shaking.
"Farewell, friend..." Rillen muttered bitterly, raising his sword, his gaze as heavy as lead.
TWANG!
"Aaah!" A dry cry escaped his throat as an arrow struck his left arm.
The pain was immediate and sharp. The blood ran hot and thick, dripping onto the ground and staining the grass. The pain made his fingers lose strength, and the sword fell with a dull thud.
Rolsvince seized the moment. He rolled on the ground and got up with surprising agility for his age. His eyes were alert. Even wounded, Rillen was still dangerous.
"Gresy! You!" Rillen shouted, his eyes turning to the tree where the shot had come from.
There it was.
Gresy stepped out from between the bushes, bow still in hand, gaze steady. Next to him, Goro emerged, a tall, broad man like a bull, holding an axe in both hands.
The three of them... masters of combat. Traitors.
In the distance, the roar of metal against metal echoed along with the sound of horses. At the river's edge, Rillen's black-armored soldiers were in direct confrontation with Rolsvince's men. The surrounding forest pulsed with chaos.
"Goro... you too..." Rillen said, with an expression of no longer being surprised.
Rolsvince gasped, catching his breath from the brief exchange.
"I had high hopes for you, my old friend... but you wanted too much!" he said bitterly. "You created your own heavy cavalry... did you think no one would notice your plan to take the city of New Moon?"
He spat out the words like poison. But Rillen didn't back down.
"I killed my brother because he was weak. I created my troops because I had my own goals. I've never denied that. But... what about you two?"
Rillen looked at Goro, then at Gresy. The tone of his voice fluctuated between incredulity and restrained fury.
"Goro, when did I harm you? Gresy... when your husband started that foolish war against me and died like an idiot... who took you in? I could have executed all of you. But I didn't. I took you in!"
"We don't have time." interrupted Rolsvince, his voice sharp. - We need to finish this before they notice you're gone.
The three of them positioned themselves around Rillen, forming a lethal triangle.
He took a deep breath. The wound on his arm still hurt, but the bleeding had subsided. His body was adjusting to the pain. His eyes, however, were fixed on the past.
Gresy, whom he had saved.
Goro, who he trained like a son.
Rolsvince, his brother-in-arms.
And... Faye.
The only woman he had ever truly loved.
Anger grew inside him, but it wasn't out of control. It was something ancient. Fierce. Like the roar of a lone wolf surrounded by traitors.
He planted his feet on the ground.
"Then come on."
Goro shouted first and ran with his axe. Gresy fired another arrow. Rolsvince advanced from the side, sword in hand.
And Rillen, wounded though he was, advanced too.