Nado spins around to see Rade and a second, unnervingly tall man approaching slowly, loaded crossbows at the ready. Nado's hand moves to rest on his scabbard as he calls out, "Mozoroff? What the hell are you doing?"
The pair comes to a halt uncomfortably close, only a yard away from the count. Nado's eyes fall on the two weapons pointed at him. "What's this?"
Rade clears his throat. "It's truly a tragedy… aye?" Nado narrows his eyes. Rade continues, "Truly a tragedy that the brave Count Nado was slain by loyalist forces at the bloody Battle of the Atiming." Rade smiles wide, but his voice is dead and flat. "He will not be remembered."
What?
The realization hits him.
"Bastard!" Nado shouts as he draws his blade.
But he's too slow.
Rade's companion is the first to shoot. The bolt embeds itself deep into Nado's gut. He doubles over and falls to his knees, agonizing pain firing through his whole body. His hands grasp at the bolt, blood running through the gaps between his fingers.
He looks up at Rade in horror. Shocked, dying lips gasp out a final question, "Why?"
The Butcher does not answer.
Instead, he pulls the trigger of his own crossbow.
The bolt slams through Nado's throat. He sways for a moment, coughing up blood before tipping backward.
He doesn't feel himself hit the ground.
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