Alythion mounted his horse, Stormyth, his eyes still fixed on the child crying over her grandmother's lifeless body. No words could escape his lips—there was nothing he could say that would erase the pain everyone felt.
"We're returning to the royal palace."
His words were not the firm military commands they once were. Instead, they were nothing more than a lifeless whisper—hollow, devoid of any spirit.
None of his five generals objected. They didn't even speak. There was no point in discussing it.
Everyone knew the air had changed.
It wasn't just Alythion who was shaken; everyone who accompanied him could feel the weight that had settled on his shoulders.
Valinor, known for his constant jokes, was completely silent, his face more serious than ever before.
Ragarath, who always tried to lighten the mood, couldn't find the right words this time.
Serinus, the mastermind among them, kept his gaze fixed on the road as if he refused to look at Alythion directly.
Velaria was quiet as usual, but even in her silence, a restrained fury could be felt.
As for Darcyan, his face was dark, as if he were wrestling with an unsettling thought in his mind.
But what weighed heaviest upon them… was the silence.
It was a silence heavier than death itself.
As they traveled along the rugged road, the old woman's words echoed in Alythion's mind like an endless refrain.
"Your curse is eternal immortality… an immortality that will be your torment forever!"
They weren't just words—he felt them in his bones, in his blood, in his heart.
He didn't yet know what this curse truly meant, but he didn't need to understand the details.
He grasped its essence.
True torment was not in physical pain… but in emotional suffering.
To watch everyone he loved endure agony.
To know that anyone who drew close to him would be afflicted by this curse as well.
That was the greatest fear he could ever face.
"I can't let this continue…"
But how?
How could he stop something beyond his power?
How could he erase something that had become part of his very existence?
He had no answer.
The road was long, yet no one uttered a single word.
Even the soldiers accompanying them—who usually filled long journeys with chatter—remained withdrawn, as if afraid to break the suffocating silence surrounding them.
Then finally, at some point, as the royal palace came into view on the horizon, Ragarath spoke in a quiet voice:
"Alythion…"
He received no response.
"We should have done something… for the girl, for the old woman… We shouldn't have just left like that."
Ragarath wasn't speaking in anger, but in pain. Anyone could see it in his eyes.
But Alythion didn't turn to face him. He didn't even look at him.
For the first time in years, he had no answer.
And he didn't want to find one.
They pressed on, burdened by a weight no armor in the world could lighten.
After a heavy silence, after watching Ragarath torn between his grief and frustration, Alythion finally spoke—his voice quiet, yet carrying an unbearable weight:
"If we had done something, events could have taken an unexpected turn."
His words were not an excuse. They were a bitter truth.
But before anyone could respond, a steady, sharp voice cut through the air—Darcyan, the strategist, and the sharpest mind among them:
"Alythion is right, Ragarath."
Everyone turned to him as he continued in a cold, calculated tone, as if analyzing the situation like a battlefield:
"If any of us had moved toward the old woman, we would now be caught in a battle against those villagers. We would have been forced to defend ourselves… and that would have meant casualties on their side. That would not have served our interests in any way."
Ragarth glared at Darcian in anger, wanting to respond, but he couldn't find the right words. He knew that what Darcian said made perfect sense, yet he refused to accept it.
But before he could even think of a reply, another voice cut through the tense air. It was Vilaria, the disciplined soldier who rarely spoke unless necessary.
"Ragarth, you're really bad at reading the mood around you."
She raised an eyebrow, staring at him with sharp eyes before continuing,
"Everyone was glaring at us with clear hatred. If we had made any move toward the old woman, they would have attacked us without hesitation. Did you want us to end up slaughtering them all?"
Her words hit Ragarth like a direct blow to the chest. He wanted to reply, wanted to say something—anything—but the words betrayed him.
Tears welled up in his eyes before, finally, a single tear slipped down his cheek. He tried to wipe it away quickly, but everyone had already seen it.
Alythion saw it. He saw the pain behind it.
He knew his friends were suffering because of him.
He knew they were struggling between their desire to help him and the consequences that would come with it.
And at that moment, Alythion decided to put an end to it.
His horse came to a sudden stop. He turned to face his five generals, who were drowning in their emotions.
Taking a deep breath, he spoke in a calm voice, though this time, it carried something different—resolve mixed with deep sorrow.
"Listen to me, all five of you..."
"You are my friends, the closest people to me... and I don't want you to become part of something you had no hand in creating."
"You can say anything to me, you can even hate my decisions if you want, but don't burden yourselves with this weight alongside me."
But before he could finish his sentence, something happened that no one expected.
Valinor, the reckless warrior with a fiery heart, suddenly spurred his horse forward.
And in a flash—he leaped off his horse and charged straight at Alythion—
Then landed a powerful punch squarely on his face!
A shocking, fast, and unexpected blow!
Alythion staggered back, his face frozen in shock—not from the physical pain, but from the fact that Valinor had actually hit him.
Valinor stood in front of him, his eyes burning—not just with anger… but with something deeper, something sharper.
Then he shouted in his face,
"Snap out of it, Alythion!!"
His voice trembled, but not from fear.
It trembled from pain.
"How dare you say something like that to us?!"
Everyone was staring in disbelief—even the soldiers who accompanied them seemed unable to grasp what was happening.
But Valinor wasn't finished. He stepped closer, grabbed Alythion by the collar, and shook him violently as he roared:
"We are not just your generals, Alythion!!"
"We are not just warriors under your command!!"
"We are your brothers, do you understand?! Your brothers!!"
His hand trembled as he clutched Alythion's collar, his eyes burning with rage—but it was more than just rage...
It was fear.
It was deep, gut-wrenching concern for the man he had sworn to protect.
And as everyone stood frozen in silence, as Valinor's grip remained firm on Alythion, only two sounds filled the air:
The sound of their heavy breaths... and the wind that swept through the road, carrying with it all the emotions left unspoken.
And as his tears slowly fell onto his cheeks, as he struggled to steady his breath—
Alythion responded with something no one expected.
It wasn't anger.
It wasn't shouting.
His voice was calm… strangely calm.
But before anyone could respond, another voice came—this time, it was Serenos, the quiet and rational one, who rarely spoke unless it was absolutely necessary.
"Elithion, we are your brothers… not just by blood, but by loyalty. We are your brothers in truth."
Serenos stepped beside Valinor, then turned to look at the others.
After a moment of silence, another voice followed—Ragarath's. He had previously tried to defend his stance, but this time, his voice was lower, as if carefully choosing his words.
"I wasn't saying anything except… asking why. Why didn't we do anything about it?"
"You know I meant no harm… I just wanted to understand."
His expression was tense, but he was no longer angry. He was just… sad.
Then came Darsian's voice, the mastermind among them. He was never one to speak about emotions, but this time, he couldn't remain silent.
"Elithion… we swore loyalty to each other, no matter what happens.
Because of you, we achieved our dreams."
Darsian lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with memories of the past, then added:
"I became the greatest military strategist in the kingdom."
"Ragarath became the strongest warrior in the realm."
"Serenos didn't just become the best archer in the kingdom—he became one of the greatest archers across the ten strongest kingdoms."
"Valinor, who was once just a reckless young man, became someone people rely on, fulfilling his dream of becoming a respected general."
"And Villaria, who was just a girl seeking knowledge, became the most learned in magic… and the strongest among them."
He looked directly at Elithion and spoke with firm resolve, yet filled with emotion:
"And you… you became what you always dreamed of—the hero of the kingdom."
"Your name echoes everywhere."
"How can you say we won't stand by you now, after everything we've been through together?"
"We will stand by you, Elithion."
"We will remain loyal to you… for life."
Elithion didn't respond immediately.
He couldn't.
He looked at them, one by one, his eyes searching for something—something he might have forgotten amidst all the pain.
But they reminded him.
They reminded him that he wasn't alone.
They reminded him that this burden wasn't his alone to bear… it was theirs as well.
Without another word, he stepped toward Valinor, slowly raised his hand, and placed it on his shoulder.
He looked directly at him and spoke in a soft voice, yet one carrying an indescribable strength:
"Thank you."
Just two words, but they carried everything.
The moment was painful, but at the same time, it held something deeper than pain… it carried strength, loyalty, and devotion.
As Elithion stood there, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions, there were others watching in silence—the soldiers.
These men who had fought under his banner, who had followed him into the greatest battles, who had witnessed his moments of glory… were now seeing him in his moment of vulnerability.
It wasn't an easy sight for them. There were no words to describe what they felt.
But in a single moment, a raw and unplanned moment, their voices rose as one—
A single heart, a single spirit, a single oath:
"Lord Elithion!"
"You have always been our hero!"
"You have always been our guiding light!"
"And you will remain our hero, no matter what happens!"
"Our loyalty and respect belong to you alone!"
"And we are all yours!"
No one moved.
No one uttered a word.
Even the wind seemed to pause for a moment, as if the entire world had stopped to hear their words.
Elithion, who had lived through countless wars, who had fought enemies no one else dared to stand against, felt something he had never felt before.
It wasn't pride.
It wasn't even honor.
It was something far deeper…
It was safety.
For the first time in a long while, he didn't feel alone.
For the first time, he realized there were hearts beating with him, voices calling his name, and souls that believed in him.
His gaze wandered among them, seeing their faces carrying the same emotions—faith, loyalty, and strength.
Without hesitation, he raised his hand to his chest, placed it over his heart, and spoke in a steady voice—one that carried everything he felt in that moment:
"And I am yours… for life."