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CHAPTER 291 The Masked Man
297 AC
POV THIRD PERSON
Alaric Blackthorn was on his way to the Temple. He was bound and gaged since he had tried to kill himself. Harald and his ten men had beaten him black and blue. Harald spat on him and landed one last kick, "You son of a whore. Do you want us to be in trouble because we couldn't bring one prisoner without any problem?"
Another of the Night's Watch Watchmen said," If something had happened to him, we would have been in big trouble with the Druid."
Harald shook his head and said," I am not concerned with the Druid. Someone like him wouldn't punish us, but when we returned, Commander Mormont would have worked us like mules for embarrassing him."
Alaric lay in a puddle of mud. Every bone in his body hurt, and his heart was full of hate. Why had the Seven forsaken him and his family? His father was one of the most faithful believers of the Seven.
Every noble would only give what they had to, but his father would bend over backward to provide more support to the Seven. All for nothing! Their house was gone, his birthright was stolen, and the Seven provided nothing.
As Alaric thought, his hatred intensified against the Druid, the North, and the Seven. As he sunk deeper into the swamp of despair and hatred, he heard a voice,
"Ahh, such an exquisite hatred and despair, I can almost smell its fragrance."
Upon hearing the voice, all of the Night's Watchmen pulled their swords. Harald shouted, "Who goes there? Show yourself!" A pair of ghostly gray eyes emerged from the woods. They looked like dirty ice chips.
The man's upper half was hidden by a black Mask, but his pale and sickly-looking skin was visible. His dark hair fell in sleek strands, framing a visage that exuded an air of subtle ferocity. Harald pointed his sword toward this man and said, "State your name and business !"
The masked man initially ignored Harald. Standing tall and straight-backed, he carries himself with a commanding presence, his movements measured and slow. He was clad in dark attire from top to bottom. The masked man started to circle around Harald and his men as his eyes were glued on Alaric. Harald asks him again.
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"Who are you?"
He looked at Harald like he was confused and said, "Don't you think it is idiotic to ask a masked man who he is?" and showed a mocking smile. He waved his hand dismissingly and said," Rather than your moronic question, answer mine. Why does Druid want this man to be transported to the Temple?"
Harald looked around, trying to find out why this man was acting arrogantly. He looked towards the woodline, but he couldn't see any movement. "I am warning you one last time: state your name and business, or we will attack."
The masked man acted hurt and said," It is really rude to answer someone's question with another question like that." he pointed towards Alaric and talked with an annoyed tone, "Just leave this one to me and kill the rest."
Harald and his man looked around with panicky looks since there was no one around. Two of them attacked the masked man, and the rest were on high alert.
Suddenly, five silhouettes Jumped down from the trees and instantly killed all of the Night's Watchmen. As Harald fell down to the ground while his neck bled like a fountain, he saw that the two who attacked the masked man were already dead.
The masked man walked towards Alaric, blood dripping from his hands, and a sword was sticking through his chest. With horrified eyes, Alaric looked at the thing walking towards him. That was not human.
Alaric cursed his fate. He was going to die like the rest of them. But then he thought to himself. Rather than dying with torture while being experimented on and used by that accursed Druid, wouldn't it be better to die right away?
The masked man crouched next to him and opened his gag. Alaric looked at him with eyes that accepted death, but in those eyes still existed deep hatred towards the Druid. If he didn't exist, Alaric wouldn't be in this situation.
The masked man smiled and said," Fascinating, you are the first human who didn't cry for mercy and beg for his life." At first, Alaric hesitated but then decided to say his piece," Why? Are you going to spare me if I beg?"
He shrugged, "I might..." Alaric smiled, "Hmph, I am not going to give you that satisfaction. Get on with it." He released a shrill laughter, "Hehehe! I like you. If you answer my questions, I will send you on your way painlessly. Why is the Druid taking you to the Temple?"
"That beast is experimenting on my father and said I will have the same fate as him. I don't know anything else; if I do, I would tell you." The masked man nodded, "It is always extremely hard to get information about that bastard. None of the people working for him talked or sold him out, but the rumors were real. He really is conducting experiments."
One of the white-masked men said, "That could be the reason Drasil's men are so strong. Could it be that the Druid is using those experiments to boost their strength?"
The black-masked man smiled and raised his hand like a knife, "Thanks, I will send you on your way as promised." Just as he was about to strike, he looked into Alaric's eyes; there was no terror. This was really weird for him, so he asked, "Are you not afraid of death? Do you not want to live?"
"Hmph, of course, I am afraid and want to live, but being terrified will not help me live. I would rather not give you the satisfaction." He shook his head. "As for living, I have no connection or help. Even if you let me go, Druid and his men will catch me, and I will still end up in his hands. I would rather die than be a help in that tree-humper's experiments."
"Hahaha! I really like you, your eyes spitting fire whenever you are talking about him." He thought briefly, "Okay, I have decided you could be helpful. We will be taking him with us."
He grabbed Alaric from his collarbone and lifted him up. His grip was like a vice; if he gripped even a little bit tighter, Alaric felt like his bones would shatter. He threw Alaric like some tiny mutt toward one of the white-masked men, and the white mask grabbed him by the nape of his neck. They were treating him like a pet.
Alaric didn't know if this was a good thing or not. To be fancied by those monsters, but he knew one thing. They were no friends of the Druid, and this was all he needed to know. As long as his pain and suffering were going to help them hurt the Druid and Drasil, he didn't mind it at all.