On the other side of the battlefield, Ravyn, who had taken control of the battle, had ended the lives of numerous masked assassins while simultaneously facing two sorcerers.
"Die, you damn bastard!" One of the assassins was about to plunge his sword into Ravyn's body when he erupted with a devastating hidden power.
A blue light shone, and the masked men screamed in fear, a look of horror gleaming in their eyes. They lost all thought of killing the North Star after seeing that even they would be slaughtered. They hastily withdrew their swords and retreated at an impressive speed.
Their expressions after witnessing how easily Ravyn had defeated numerous sword experts were indescribable.
This was a force they simply could not overcome.
In fact, when they first faced Ravyn, they believed he was just a common bodyguard good with a sword, among the lowest ranks. However, his strength increased as the battle progressed.
Therefore, facing an existence of unknown origin and whose strength defied logic, the best course was to abandon this mission and retreat if they wanted to survive.
But Ravyn wouldn't let them escape, so with terrifying strength, he increased his speed, caught up with the two fleeing assassins, and cut them in half.
Crack! Crack!
When the battlefield finally returned to its tranquility, only knights stood around the carriage, struggling to breathe, their breaths coming in short gasps.
They had won, a bittersweet victory since they had failed to protect their lord, who had moved on his own. It was unacceptable, but they could only grit their teeth in frustration.
"Stop your bleeding, prioritize your healing, and I will search for the prince," said Ravyn as he swung his sword, flinging the blood to the side.
"Yes, sir!"
...
In a dark alley where only dogs and cats would dare pass today, a day stained with absolute agony, several men in black ran to hide from the danger pursuing them. However, the most deplorable thing was that the deep wounds on their bodies left large bloodstains on the ground that could not be concealed by the mud and water.
"We're all going to die here," said one of the masked men, holding his stomach, which had a long gash. Under his clothes, it was clear his intestines had spilled from his abdomen, and blood immediately soaked his attire.
"Hang in there; if we hide our presence, we might escape."
Argh!
No matter where they ran, Haldor found them all and personally killed them.
"No one will live after today."
Following these words, Haldor appeared in the alley and began swinging his axes. Each movement, regardless of its size, took a life as if he were the Grim Reaper himself. No one could escape or resist; all they could do was beg for mercy, which would never be granted.
Loneliness, sadness, desolation... Haldor embodied all these titles and negative emotions that would make anyone feel sad, perhaps desperate, or afraid. Even now, as he killed, he felt neither joy nor satisfaction; it was something he did simply because it was how he had always been.
After killing them all, Haldor stepped out of the dark alley and looked up at the sky, which continued to pour rain. The cold air flooded his body, making him feel, for the first time, the agony that enveloped him when he saw hundreds of thousands of men dead on the battlefield. This angered him greatly, but as a consort here to prevent war, he could not vent these feelings on anyone else.
"After this, I will increase my influence in the capital, which is so neglected by the nobles," said Haldor, sensing that Finian had arrived home.
Haldor no longer enjoyed many of the desires he had in his past life, so once he fulfilled his duties, he planned to live a quiet life.
The assassins' corpses lay on the ground; those who had seemed invincible until recently were now all dead, their bodies covered in mud and water, becoming little more than trash.
Finian's home was a very poor house in the depths of the slums of the capital, standing timidly in the most forgotten corner of the settlement. Its wooden structure was worn by years and the elements, and the beams rotted with time and moisture.
The clay tile roof, once reddish and vibrant, now showed signs of wear and leaks. Its walls, once painted in bright colors, had lost their luster and were now chipped and faded.
The front door, made of deteriorated wood, hung crookedly on its worn hinges, barely serving its purpose of keeping the outside at bay.
"Sister, I'm back!" shouted Finian as if what he had just experienced had no effect on him.
Haldor looked around the windows; the frames were worn, and the shutters had fallen or were broken, allowing the natural elements to enter freely.
Inside the house, the scene was equally desolate. A dilapidated bed, covered with a tattered and faded blanket, occupied much of the space in one corner. On the bed lay a girl younger than six years old, approximately.
"I wonder where their parents are. Well, that question is pointless now." Haldor entered the small house and approached the younger sister of the boy, who had made an impression on him.
"Is she your sister, Aria?"
Finian opened the bag with the medicines and said in a friendly tone, "Yes, she is my younger sister Aria; it's only for her that I still fight to survive."
Aria, a delicate girl with pale skin, slowly opened her eyes and saw her brother's dirty face. "Finian, I told you the best medicine was having you by my side. Look how dirty you are."
"This makes me feel strange." Haldor moved around the room, thinking about what to do without these children seeing him as a kidnapper only looking for servants. The girl had a strange white hair color, which piqued Haldor's interest.
"Brother! There's a handsome boy, but he's strange; he has the same hair as you." Aria judged Haldor and pointed at him with her trembling finger.
Finian was surprised and moved his sister's hand away, then squinted and whispered, "I suspect he's a great man, but because of the mud and blood on his body, I'm not sure. It doesn't matter; he saved my life and offered to bring me home."
At this moment, Haldor felt both indignant and touched by the scene between the siblings he was witnessing. Just as he was about to give the boy a gift, he suddenly realized that something didn't feel quite right about this whole situation.
"Children, I have a suggestion you can't refuse. If I manage to cure your sister, both of you can be my siblings, and I promise to take care of you. Since you're alone, you will most likely die during the winter, so it would be logical to accept."
He didn't know why, but that boy named Finian was very strange, and just to be sure, he would take them back.
"Are you telling the truth? Can you save my sister and give her good food so she can grow and not stay small like me? What should we do if we follow you now, besides being your sibling?" Finian was very excited upon hearing this proposal.
"Ha, ha, ha, I need dragon riders," said Haldor, imagining that these children were bastards of the Targaryen house.