Drettius’ eyes widened as Kruger staggered forward, collapsing against him, blood pouring from his stomach where a sword had pierced through. For a moment, the air grew still, thick with tension, as Drettius processed the sight before him. His mind raced.

  ′Well, well,′ a cold voice echoed from behind the mist. ′The real Drettius, I take it?′

  A man stepped forward, clad in armor, but something was off. The color was not its own. It was wrapped in white ribbons, masking its true appearance.

  Drettius instinctively turned sideways, pulling away from Albaras, intent on dragging Kruger to safety. But Albaras had waited for this moment, striking with deadly precision in his final act. His sword drove into Drettius’s armpit, the blade’s point emerging grotesquely beside his neck. Pain exploded through him, a searing burn radiating down his arm and into his chest, but he gritted his teeth, refusing to show weakness. The shock made him release Kruger, his body reacting before his mind could process the agony.

  Albaras had managed to get himself to one knee, letting out a low, rasping breath. His grip loosened on the hilt of the sword still buried in Drettius, his arm appearing dislocated. He looked down at the earth, his head bowing as the boy’s body went limp, falling headfirst into the dirt.

  Kruger, whether driven by his festering insanity or the searing pain of his wound, was the first to move. His eyes were wild, unfocused. With a savage roar, he swung his axe in a wide arc, his body bending unnaturally as he rose from a fall to standing. The blade slammed into the side of the man who had just entered the fray, Rederick. The strike found a weak point in the armor, cutting through with a sickening crunch. Blood gushed from the gap, staining the cold metal as Rederick gasped, reeling from the sudden, unexpected pain.

  Reeling from the blow, Rederick showed no pain, not even stepping back, fury burning through him like an oven. But just as he steadied himself, a sharp pain exploded in his back. Drettius, despite his wound, had moved undetected through the mist, circling around Rederick. Hiding in the swirling fog, he fired his wrist crossbow, the bolt embedding itself deep between Rederick’s shoulder blades. The force of the impact made him stagger forward, leaving him vulnerable.

  Kruger, seizing the opportunity, swung his axe again with brutal precision, this time aiming for Rederick’s head.

  The axe connected with a deafening crack, shattering Rederick’s visor as the force drove him to one knee, his shield still raised. For a moment, everything slowed. The metal crumpled under the pressure, and Rederick’s vision blurred as the ground seemed to rise up to meet him. In the haze, he saw a face.

  ′Kian,′ Rederick whispered slowly.

  With sheer determination, he used his shield to push himself back up, his hand instinctively thrusting his sword upward in a desperate strike aimed at Kruger’s chin.

  Kruger bent his neck, almost as if he had broken it, narrowly dodging the blade at the last possible second as it grazed his jaw. He stepped backward, letting himself fall, using his axes to plant into the ground and soften the impact before landing in a crouch. His body contorted unnaturally, cracking and bending as he rose again, his limbs shifting like a grotesque marionette driven by vengeance. Now standing, he was poised like a predator, eyes gleaming with madness, his body crouched low, resembling a twisted spider preparing to strike.

  Rederick, blood dripping from his wounds and the cracked remnants of his helmet, faced him with unwavering resolve. His breath was heavy, ragged, but his grip on his sword remained steady. The two men, one driven by fury and the other by madness, locked eyes in the mist-filled clearing, the tension between them thick and suffocating.

  Kruger, his body trembling with pain and deranged laughter, hissed through gritted teeth, ′This world is falling apart, and we cannot change what comes next!′

  Rederick, ignoring the words, focused instead on regaining his composure, knowing that one more hit would be his undoing.

  Kruger, wild-eyed and relentless, lunged forward, his twin axes spinning like the furious winds of a storm. Rederick, battered but resolute, raised his shield and braced for impact, his body screaming in protest from the wounds he had already endured. Steel met steel with a bone-jarring crash, the sound ringing through the mist-filled clearing. The two men grunted with exertion: each strike fueled by a desperate need to survive to claim victory in this bloody struggle.

  Drettius crouched low, pain wracking his body, his vision blurring. As long as he saw the white, it would be okay. His eyes were fixed on Rederick’s back, calculating each movement, each angle. He assessed the weak points in the armor, the spots that could throw Rederick off-balance. Only in the shadows can he win.

  His hand hovered over the trigger of his wrist crossbow, the familiar tension settling into his fingers. Patient as ever, he embodied the spirit of a hunter, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But as his gaze shifted, something else flickered in his peripheral vision and froze him to the core.

  For the first time, Drettius felt true fear coursing through him, a terror deeper than any he had known in all his years of hunting.

  Albaras.

  He was rising, standing back up.

  Drettius blinked, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. No beast, no monster, no fiend he had ever encountered had survived his poison. Yet Albaras, the legendary Purple Man, was slowly pushing himself to his feet. His massive frame swayed unsteadily, but he was undeniably alive. The daggers were still embedded, one in the visor of his helmet, one in his neck. Dripping blood that stained his armor red.

  Albaras forced his dislocated arm back into place, preparing to do something unbelievable. He gripped the hilt of the dagger lodged in his visor with one gauntleted hand and wrenched it free in a single, brutal motion. Blood sprayed from the wound, splattering across the ground and mist. He didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he grabbed the other dagger, ripping it from his armor, and began stepping toward Drettius, the air around him turning red with blood.

  Drettius instinctively took a step back. His mind struggled to process the sight of Albaras, this bloodied, unstoppable specter, approaching with the weight and certainty of an avalanche. Each footfall resonated through the ground, sending tremors up Drettius′ legs and quickening his heartbeat, amplifying the pain from the sword wound. His breaths came shallow, but years of hunting the deadliest creatures forced him to focus. Even though he didn’t want to face the truth or to simply succumb to the pain, he had no choice but to fight the encroaching terror.

  Gritting his teeth, he steadied himself, dropping into a crouched stance, the dagger clutched in his only working hand. He held the blade low, biding his time, watching for the moment he could strike and perhaps end this nightmare. The pulse of fear in his chest sharpened his awareness, his muscles tensing as Albaras closed in.

  Albaras took another step, the slow scrape of his boots seeming to draw time out to an agonizing length. His axe heavy in his grasp, but Drettius knew that even with Albaras injuries, a single swing from the monstrous hunter could end him. Drettius watched, waiting for the smallest shift in Albaras balance, the slightest sway, something he could exploit.

  Then he saw it.

  Albaras shifted his weight, and for a heartbeat, Drettius saw an opening. His body moved before his mind could catch up; he lunged forward, his dagger glinting in the dim light as he drove it toward Albaras waist, aiming for the vulnerable point just beneath the armor plating.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  The blade bit into flesh, and for a moment, Drettius felt a surge of triumph until he saw Albaras’s reaction.

  The hulking figure barely reacted. Albaras’ gaze dropped to the wound, his dark, void-like helmet seemed almost just irritated by the wound. Slowly, he raised his head, his gaze meeting Drettius with chilling intent. With a calm, almost unnatural precision, he let his axe fall to the ground. His hands reached out, seeming massive in the blur, to close around his opponent’s neck.

  Drettius, weakened by blood loss and the deep wound, surrendered to the relentless grip. He didn’t struggle, only looked up at Albaras with a quiet, regretful sadness. ′I’m sorry… for it all,′ he murmured, his voice a soft gurgle before fading away.

  In the distance, Kruger’s attention shifted momentarily from his fierce duel, noticing Albaras and Drettius in their final confrontation. Rederick seized the opportunity, surging forward to slam his shield into Kruger’s face and drive his sword deep into Kruger’s leg. With one final bash of his shield, Rederick sent Kruger collapsing to the ground, unconscious.

  Exhausted and battered, Rederick lowered his shield, feeling the weight of his bruised and battered arm. Then, he turned, catching sight of Albaras, still holding Drettius’s limp body in his death grip. But as the poison within Albaras finally took hold, his mighty frame staggered. Feeling his life force ebbing, he collapsed, falling to the ground.

  Rederick approached the bodies, his gaze fixed on Albaras’s motionless form. He raised his sword, whispering, ′For my brother…′ But before he could bring the blade down, movement appeared in the mist. Aadalarasu, Bernhard, and Kian emerged, the fog lifting just enough to reveal them.

  Rederick hesitated, then drew back his sword, sheathing it with a reluctant sigh. Exhausted, he sank down beside the bodies, tending to his wounds with makeshift bandages torn from the frayed ribbons around his armor. The scene faded into silence.

  Aadalarasu rushed into the mist-laden forest without a second thought, Bernhard hesitating only for a few seconds before following. The silhouettes of Rederick and Albaras’s horses loomed like ghosts against the fog, their restless movements disturbing the silence.

  ′Wait!′ Kian called out, his heart hammering. ′Don’t leave me to face this alone!′

  Aadalarasu glanced back, his expression unreadable, his eyes shadowed by the fog. No smile, no laugh, only cold focus. His gaze flicked toward Bernhard, who murmured something low. Whatever he said made Aadalarasu hesitate. He drew a deep breath, steadying himself, the tension in his posture betraying the inner conflict between his anger and his warrior’s discipline.

  When Kian finally dismounted, he noticed the darkness in Aadalarasu’s eyes. It wasn’t like the way he had first met the flamboyant man walking beside Bernhard.

  Bernhard placed a reassuring hand on Kian shoulder, his grip steady and warm. ′Ready, kid?′ he asked. ′If you want, you can walk behind us.′

  Kian let out a deep sigh, his words easing some of the tension coiled in his chest. But the weight of the contract loomed over him like a dark cloud. It was tied to Albaras, an unshakable force pulling me forward. I couldn’t shrink into the shadows. I had to stand beside them, to face whatever lay ahead. To prove my worth.

  Then, the stillness shattered. The unmistakable clash of steel rang out in the distance, a harsh symphony that ignited our instincts. We quickened our pace, drawn toward the heart of the conflict.

  As the mist slowly receded, the scene before us began to take shape, though at first nothing was clear, nothing was clear. Then, at last, Bernhard was the first to spot Rederick slumped against the forest floor, flanked by the lifeless forms of Albaras and Drettius. Kian heart sank at the sight of Albaras sprawled out, his once-mighty presence now reduced to a still, unmoving figure.

  Kian hurried over, but words eluded him, a knot of emotion tightening in my throat. He couldn’t tear my gaze from Albaras; the legendary hunter lay silent, his strength extinguished. As he stood over him, he heard Rederick sigh.

  Aadalarasu’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and accusatory. ′Why didn’t you say anything?′ He knelt beside Drettius, checking for a pulse, hoping, but at last there was nothing. His frustration was palpable as he turned back to Rederick. ′Why did you let Drettius get killed?′

  Rederick kept looking at his sword that he held down as if he surrendered, given up, yet he just sat there. Slowly, he pulled off his helmet, his expression unreadable as he kept a blank stare fixed towards Aadalarasu.

  ′What would you expect?′ he said finally, his voice hollow. ′Be happy you didn’t see what the other two saw.′

  He exhaled, almost to himself. ′I only saw for a second… what Albaras really was.′

  Bernhard listened closely on what they both said but said nothing in return, ever the seasoned warrior, moved past the emotional turmoil to assess the situation. He approached Kruger’s crumpled form a bit further away from the others, Bernhard knelt beside him to check for a sign of life. ′Aadalarasu,′ he called out, his tone steady ′While we have not our goal there is still at least one still alive.′

  Aadalarasu remained silent, breathing heavily in and out. Then he knew it was time to get to work.

  Kian looked at Albaras, a few tears slipping down his face or at least what felt like tears. But when wiped away, they seemed more like blood. He quickly cleaned his hand on the inside of his cloak, making sure no one could see. Then looked towards the others. Hoping that nobody noticed it. Rederick looked at Kian theyshared a brief glance.In that split second when our eyes locked, Redericksmiled faintly before returning to watch his blade.

  Aadalarasu was too focused on Drettius, Aadalarasu’s hand gripped his blade as he knelt beside Drettius, checking for a pulse out of sheer desperation. He pried at Albaras hands, which still locked Drettius in place, his own fingers trembling as he carefully loosened the gauntleted grip from the lifeless neck. The brutal hold had left deep, livid impressions in the pale flesh, grotesque reminders of the overwhelming strength that had ended Drettius life.

  With great care, Aadalarasu lifted the body, but as he did, Drettius’s head lolled unnaturally to the side, bobbing with each movement in a way that sent a fresh wave of unease through him.

  Nearby, Bernhard heaved Kruger’s unconscious form over his shoulder with a grunt, the weight of carrying bodies all too familiar. His sharp gaze flicked to Aadalarasu, then to the corpse in his arms. ′With a dry smirk, he muttered, ’Tell me you weren’t actually hoping for a pulse before lifting him up, were you?′

  The edge in his voice softened into practicality as he addressed the group. ′Let’s get the bodies on the horses. We need to return to Dunten. This man,′ he said, jerking his head toward Kruger, ′needs to be secured in custody, and Drettius body must be inspected without delay.′

  Bernhard’s gaze flicked to Albaras to Rederick, the hulking figure encased in armor, his presence heavy even in death. ′As for him… that’s your decision,′ he said, his tone measured. ′But with all that weight he’s carrying, I’d say let him rest here. It’ll save you the burden on the road. And since you failed to bring Drettius back alive, there won’t be a reward for it.′

  ′Rederick,′ Bernhard said, his voice taking on a dry edge. ′If you ever pass through while there’s no battle raging, consider yourself an honorary guest at Dunten. Your reward will compensate you for the time you spent helping the city.′

  Kiandidn’t hesitate to speak up, letting my mentor lie here was something I could not accept. ′I want to take Albaras back to the hunter lodges. He deserves a burial among his own,′ I said aloud.

  Bernhard gave me a respectful nod, while Aadalarasu looked at me with approval. Neither of them spoke, but they silently acknowledged my decision as they secured Drettius and Kruger’s bodies to their horses.′

  Rederick pushed himself to his feet, using his sword for balance, his movements slow. My gaze immediately fixed on the wound at his side, where the ribbons that had once blended seamlessly with his armor were now darkened by blood, impossible to ignore. As he straightened, he slung his shield onto his back with a weary grunt and tore a strip of ribbon from his armor, wrapping it tightly around the injury.

  ′If that’s what you’ve decided,′ he said, his tone calm, masking the strain in his labored breaths. Despite his composure, the deep rise and fall of his chest betrayed the pain he was trying to suppress. ′But you’ll need to help me carry him. You can see I’m in no shape to do it alone, but I’ll manage,′ he added with a faint smile.

  He glanced down at Albaras, his expression unreadable, clouded with a mixture of emotions couldn’t quite place. ′He was more than just a hunter,′ he said, his voice low and steady. The words lingered in the air, their weight settling over both of us. A faint, wry smilemade every effort feel futile. Beside me, Rederick silently went to work, tearing strips of ribbon from his leg armor. Slowly, he fashioned them into larger strips, tying them securely around Albaras legs.

  Once the ribbons were in place, Rederick handed me one of the lengths. ′Here,′ he said, his voice calm but edged with exhaustion. ′We’ll drag him. If we can’t get him up onto his horse, we’ll tie him to it.′

  Kian nodded, gripping the ribbon tightly. Together, we began pulling Albaras heavy, armored form across the forest floor. Each step was a struggle, the weight resisting us at every turn. Despite the strain, there was something strangely comforting about having Rederick beside me, helping even with the wound that caused him to grunt with every pull.

  Out of the forest, we saw that Aadalarasu and Bernhard had already left. ’Let’s go home, kiddo. Let’s give Albaras some peace,’ they said. Then, with almost childish glee, Albaras’s body rose again. ‘So, my lads, what did I miss?’ he asked.

  Kian jumped back automatically while Rederick just said Couldn’t you have done that sooner?

  ′Didn’t you check my pulse, boy?′ Albaras said as he pushed himself back onto his feet. Rederick didn’t bat an eye at his rise, though His eyes burned with rage. ‘With that armor, it’s impossible,’ Rederick muttered. ’Don’t be smart here, you’ve already lost this battle.′

  Albaras shrugged. ′At least I’m alive, right?′ He looked at Rederick. ′You don’t have to worry about getting lost on the way back.′