Aric and Yrsa rode side by side on their Krigers, the cold wind licking at whatever exposed skin it could, but neither seemed to notice.
The beasts beneath them, powerful and steadfast, moved with something akin to mechanical precision over the frozen landscape. Their dark coats blended into the icy surroundings, only the frosty breath from their nostrils giving away their presence as they advanced.
The silence was cold between them and was eventually broken by Yrsa.
She turned her head slightly, her eyes locked on Aric’s unreadable face, scrutinizing him with quiet curiosity. "You know," she began, her voice low but clear over the howling wind, "I see something in the way you kill."
Aric raised an eyebrow, but his gaze remained forward, not bothering to meet her eyes. "Oh?" he replied, his tone slight.
"A hesitation. A flicker of regret, perhaps," she continued, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Maybe for slaughtering those of your empire? Men who, in another life, might have followed you, hailed you as their prince." Her words were probing, searching for something deeper beneath his cold exterior.
Aric let the silence stretch for a moment, the rhythmic sound of their mounts’ hooves crunching through the snow filling the space between them.
Then, without looking at her, he spoke, his voice firm and resolute.
"I feel no such thing," he said, his tone as cold as the northern winds. "I do what needs to be done. Nothing more, nothing less."
Yrsa watched him closely, her smirk fading slightly.
She had seen many men lie in her time as a warrior, some better than others. But Aric was different. His mask was flawless, his composure felt nearly unshakable.
Yet, even as he said the words, something in his eyes betrayed him.
A swift flash, a shadow of emotion that she could almost—almost—see.
But she let it go. She didn’t know him well enough to dissect his true intentions as well as she would want to, and Aric wasn’t a man to be prodded easily.
What she didn’t know, however, was that Aric was lying.
Not to her—no, she wouldn’t matter in the grand scheme of things—but to himself. He had become a master of self-deception. Every death, every betrayal, every choice made in the name of revenge had chipped away at his conscience, but he had buried it deep.
Too deep for anyone to see.
He was no saint in his past life, but some could call him a good man... but now, the blood on his hands... for what purpose was it?
They rode on in silence for a while longer until they approached the next town. From a distance, it looked small, a mere outpost town like the one they had just left behind. But as they neared, something felt off.
No sound of life. It was as if the place had been abandoned in a hurry—just like the last.
Logically, his first thought was they had reached another ambush.
Aric dismounted, his armor clanking slightly as he hit the ground. He scanned the area, his eyes narrowing.
"Deserted," Yrsa said as she too dismounted. "Or ambush... just like the last one."
Aric nodded but didn’t reply immediately.
After a while they got their answer—there was no ambush... just emptiness.
He knew exactly why the to0wn was empty.
And it seemed like he had hoped, they dispersed rather than face a massacre. But he wasn’t about to reveal that to Yrsa. Instead, he turned away, examining the silent buildings with a faint frown.
"Strange, don’t you think?" Yrsa continued, folding her arms across her chest. "First one, now this. It’s almost as if they knew we were coming."
Aric glanced at her briefly, his face unreadable. "Perhaps they’ve simply lost their will to fight," he said, his voice neutral. "They know they can’t stand against our forces."
Yrsa didn’t seem convinced, but she shrugged and let the matter drop. "Maybe. Or maybe there’s something you’re not telling me, General." Her tone was light, but there was an edge of suspicion underneath.
They remounted their Krigers and moved on.
For hours, they passed through two more deserted outposts, each as empty and lifeless as the first. The silence of the abandoned towns weighed heavily on the soldiers, though none dared to voice their concerns aloud. Aric and Yrsa rode in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Finally, after a long march, they arrived at the last garrison just before the second of the three northern kingdoms—Kurag. In its outskirts was the settlement where they would meet Aszer.
Unlike the other outposts, this one was not deserted.0
As they crested a hill, the garrison came into view.
Aric’s eyes widened slightly at the sight before him. Hundreds of soldiers stood waiting, armed to the teeth, their weapons glinting in the pale light. Shields and spears were lined in perfect formation, banners flapping in the cold breeze.
Yrsa whistled lowly beside him, her eyes scanning the assembled army. "Well, well. Looks like they were expecting us."
Aric’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of the sword strapped to his back. His eyes narrowed as he gauged the size of the force before them. It was a sizeable army, one that would put up a decent fight, but he had no intention of letting it stand in his way. Check latest chapters at 𝘯𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭⚑𝓯𝓲𝓻𝓮⚑𝕟𝕖𝕥
He started to draw his blade, but before he could unsheathe it, Yrsa placed a firm hand on his arm. "Hold, General," she said, her voice commanding but calm. "You’ve had all the fun up until now."
Aric raised an eyebrow, looking at her with mild surprise. "You want me to sit this one out?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Yrsa’s lips curled into a wicked smile as she mounted her Kriger once again. "Yes, I’ll have our men end it swiftly," she said, her voice filled with confidence. She turned to her back, her voice booming across the ranks. "Prepare for battle! We have been offered blood!"
The legion roared in response, the sound echoing across the frozen plains as they readied themselves for the charge.
Aric watched as Yrsa rode to the front of the formation, her presence commanding and fierce. She had a natural gift for leading men into battle, her confidence infectious.
The soldiers rallied behind her as she raised her Axe, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of combat.
They charged forward, and the prince sat back... perhaps relieved he might go through this battle without more blood of his people on his hands.