The sun crept higher, its golden rays stretching over the dense clutter of the forest surrounding the clearing. Shafts of light pierced through the canopy, illuminating the battlefield littered with the corpses of Woodland Orcs. The once-chaotic camp now sat in silence, save for the distant cries of scavenging birds and the soft rustle of leaves swaying in the morning breeze.
At the center of the scene, Nyx sat atop the massive body of the Orc Commander, his posture relaxed and his expression unreadable. The giant beast's head lolled to the side, its lifeless, blank eyes staring into nothingness. The jagged blade of Nyx's sword, the Ironsouled Blade, was embedded deep in the Commander's forehead, the final mark of its defeat. Blood trickled from the wound, pooling beneath the towering corpse.
The knights stood in the middle of the clearing, their armor dented and streaked with dirt and blood. Exhaustion hung heavy over them, but their eyes gleamed with relief and newfound respect. As the sun warmed the battlefield, their weariness gave way to cheers.
"We did it!" one knight cried, raising his sword high.
"No," another said, his voice shaking with gratitude and awe. "He did it. Lord Nyx defeated an Orc Commander alone!"
'To Defeat a Creature of that Scale..Alone' Viscount Wellian thought
Grall, his face streaked with sweat and grime, limped forward, his sword dragging behind him. He looked up at Nyx, who remained perched atop the fallen Commander, and exhaled deeply.
"Unbelievable," Grall muttered.
"Lord!" One of the knights called out, his voice urgent as he approached Nyx.
Two others followed, dragging a woman bound tightly in ropes between them. Her auburn hair was disheveled, her piercing eyes filled with defiance despite her situation. It was Elloise.
"It's just as you said," one knight began, his voice tinged with both awe and unease. "There was someone watching."
Nyx turned his sharp gaze toward her. His expression, unreadable at first, hardened into cold amusement as his eyes locked with hers.
Elloise's head tilted slightly, her lips curling into a smirk despite her predicament. "Do you know who I am?" she spat, her voice laced with venom. She kept her head low but glared upward, her defiance unwavering.
Nyx stepped closer, his figure towering over her as his shadow fell across her bound form. "I'm just wondering," he began, his voice cutting through the tense air, "why Count Trynal would send someone who can't even finish their job."
Elloise's smirk faltered, her eyes widening for a split second before narrowing again. "H-how did you—"
Nyx cut her off, his glare intensifying. "Is this your last mission?"
The question hung in the air, sharp as a blade. Elloise froze, her breath hitching. She tried to keep her composure, but her hand twitched toward a shard of broken sword lying mere inches away in the dirt.
'If I can just grab it…' she thought desperately, her fingers inching closer.
Nyx's piercing gaze caught her movement, and he tilted his head slightly. "Oh?" he said, his tone almost mocking. "I guess I was right."
Elloise lunged for the shard, her hand finally grasping the jagged metal. But before she could lift it, Nyx raised his hand with a lazy wave.
A strange warmth spread through her chest, and she froze mid-motion. Her gaze dropped to her torso, where two ethereal swords now protruded, their edges glowing faintly with an eerie light. Blood seeped from the wounds as the life drained from her eyes.
'What… is this…?' she thought weakly, her grip on the shard faltering as she collapsed to the ground.
Nyx stepped over her lifeless body, his expression unchanging. "Doesn't Count Trynal have a son?" he asked aloud, his voice devoid of emotion.
Viscount Wellian, who had been standing nearby, shifted uncomfortably under Nyx's calm but chilling demeanor.
Not long after…
Nyx and his group moved on, leaving the battlefield behind.
Back at the clearing, a lone figure emerged from the shadows. Karthen, his armor battered and face streaked with dirt and tears, knelt beside Elloise's body. His trembling hand reached out to touch her cooling cheek as his shoulders shook with grief.
"I swear… I'll kill you," he whispered, his voice raw with anguish. Tears rolled down his face, falling onto the blood-stained ground.
His eyes burned with hatred as he lifted his gaze to the horizon. "I'll kill you, Viscount Wellian," he vowed, his words heavy with the weight of revenge.
_________________________
Back with Nyx's group…
Grall rode beside Nyx, his expression conflicted as he finally broke the silence. "May I ask, Lord Nyx, why you killed her?"
Nyx didn't look at him, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "If someone attempted to assassinate a Viscount and failed, what do you think would happen to them?"
"They would… be hunted down," Grall admitted after a moment's thought.
"Exactly," Nyx replied, his tone cold and unyielding. "Then what's the difference between giving them an early death?"
Grall nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. He didn't ask further, falling silent as they continued their journey, the weight of Nyx's ruthlessness lingering in the air.