Fero's thoughts: 'Is this what it is to be the hero? Just collect girls as you please? I don't just dislike this man. I despise him. I could go in there and smash his face in before anyone knew what was going on.'
A loud moan was let loose. Fero recognized that voice. It was Kasila. He felt betrayed beyond words. His heart instantly began to ache. The love he harbored for her seemed to slip away. The feeling of love seemed like a distant memory. He was moments away from collapsing. What was he to do without love and sword?
He only knew one and desired the other. Beyond that, he simply existed.
His thoughts focused on one thing. The sword. Honor. If he couldn't have the woman he wanted most in this world. He would simply find his death by the sword.
His sword though, it might not be finished. He looked at the weapons in front of him. None of them were heavy enough to satisfy his honor in a battle.
Fero's thoughts: 'The hero can make this treachery up to me by allowing me to borrow his sword. He can get it back from my grave.'
Fero picked up the sword. He thought it was magic. He had heard that people in the past were killed by the sword itself in an attempted theft. It just felt like a light blade to him. He hoisted it up over his left shoulder and left the disgusting place behind. He had to walk by the blacksmith to get to the path down the mountain. He saw his sword. It was up on a rack above the cart. The smith was already asleep. It must have been done. He reached up and took it with. He replaced the sword across his back like he used to have it. The weight felt good. It felt like an old loyal friend. The last friend he felt he could rely on.
Before Fero could leave the camp he had to pass by the night lookout. He just walked past without a word.
"Hey, where are you going? The demons are out there! The battle isn't until tomorrow." The lookout called out to Fero.
Fero stopped and looked back. The lookout could see no life in his unique orange eyes. This man was ready to die. A sparkle from the moonlit night caught his attention.
"That... That's the sword of the hero! Stop! If you continue, I'll have to sound the alarm!" The lookout threatened.
"The hero is busy with women at the moment. If you sound the alarm now, it could interrupt the night's rest of everyone here. That could cost the battle tomorrow. That is if the alarm itself does not attract the demons here tonight." Fero's words were cold but the lookout could find no flaws in this logic.
"I'm just borrowing this. The "Hero" can have it back when I'm done."
Fero continued his walk down the mountain path. The lookout didn't know what to do. The man before him had a legendary sword and carried another sword of incomparable weight. Trying to fight him would be certain suicide. He sat down, shuddering at the thought of retaliation from several sources in the morning.
Fero found himself at the bottom of the mountain with a straight shot toward the enemy castle.
"This will be my last battle. I will do as much damage as I can before I fall. By easing the number of combatants, I will give Kasila my last gift to her. Goodbye. Kasila."
He took one last look at the mountain. He pictured the outside of the hero's tent and shuddered in disgust. He marched to his certain doom.