As the trio made their way to the Fields of Solitude, they received word that four of the major kingdoms of Grass Mark had pledged their support for Orvell's cause against Behem and his followers. Despite this promising news, their journey led them to a smaller kingdom, Cloverville, which had already fallen to one of Behem's men.

Observing from a distance, Minerva scanned the devastated town. “It looks like we have to deal with another one of Behem's lackeys. This time, it’s Dorian Spitz,” she remarked grimly.

The trio descended from the high ground and cautiously stepped into the ruins of Cloverville. The village lay in shambles, its people weary and broken. Orvell approached a passing woman. “What happened here?” he asked, his voice heavy with concern.

“A powerful archer and his men have taken over,” the woman replied. “They’re here to stop anyone who dares to pass through. Our king is dead, and the queen is being held prisoner. They keep her locked away to ensure we live in fear. We’re simple folk; we can’t fight them.”

The trio exchanged knowing looks. They had seen this cruelty before. But saving the queen and liberating the kingdom came with a challenge: gathering enough intelligence about Dorian's forces to mount a successful rescue.

A local blacksmith offered them shelter and supplies in exchange for their help. “I haven’t seen armor like yours before,” the blacksmith said to Orvell, marveling at his gear. “You must be a powerful adventurer.”

Grateful for the offer, the trio rested at a nearby inn that evening, strategizing their next move. “Dorian doesn’t know we’re here,” Orvell began, laying out his plan. “If we can free the queen and bypass him, we’ll have a chance to catch up with Behem.”

Minerva and Raven listened intently but shared their concerns. “If we don’t deal with Dorian now, he’ll raze this entire kingdom,” Minerva argued. The three debated until they finally agreed on a compromise.

“Raven,” Orvell said, “can you stay here and help this kingdom? Minerva and I will continue on toward the Fields of Solitude.”

Raven nodded. “I’ll stay. My men will arrive soon to aid in the war, and I’ll meet you both when this kingdom is secure.”

At dawn, Orvell and Minerva departed, leaving Raven to devise a plan for Cloverville’s liberation. Raven spent the day readying her weapons—sharpening her knives, polishing her sabre, and ensuring her musket pistols were in perfect condition. She then set out to gather intelligence, scouting the area and identifying potential escape routes.

Later, she sat outside a small restaurant, eating a roasted drumstick, when she overheard a conversation at a nearby table.

“I’m sick of those freaks,” one man grumbled. “Every night, they stir up trouble at the bar. The whole place reeks of death because of them.”

Raven leaned over, her curiosity piqued. “What bar are you talking about?” she asked.

The man glanced at her warily before replying, “The Old Windmill. It used to be lively, full of joy. Now, it’s nothing but gloom. Ever since that archer and his men showed up, the place has gone to ruin.”

This was the lead Raven had been waiting for. If the archer’s men frequented the Old Windmill, it could hold the key to discovering their weaknesses, penetrating the castle, and rescuing the queen. Raven rose from her seat, determination in her eyes. She had a mission to complete.

Raven strolled into the Old Windmill Bar, her boots clicking on the worn wooden floor. She took a seat at the bar and gave the bartender a nod.

“A musketeer, huh? We don’t see many of your kind around here,” the bartender remarked, raising an eyebrow as he polished a glass.

Raven offered a small smile. “Beer, please. And some peanuts if you’ve got any. I’m waiting for some... acquaintances.”

The bartender quickly complied, sliding over a frothy pitcher and a bowl of peanuts. As dusk fell outside, Raven leaned back and poured herself another glass. By now, she’d downed four pitchers without so much as a wobble—a tolerance earned through years of hard living and harder drinking.

The bartender hesitated, still wiping glasses, before finally asking, “So, who are these friends of yours?”

Raven was about to answer when the creak of the door silenced the room. Four heavily armed men stepped inside, their boots leaving trails of dirt on the floorboards. They scanned the bar like wolves eyeing prey.

Raven smirked and reached into her pocket, tossing a fat gold coin onto the counter. “That’s for later,” she said, meeting the bartender’s wide, frightened eyes. He needed no further encouragement—he disappeared into the back, leaving her alone with the intruders.

One of the men peeled off toward the restroom, while the remaining three swaggered up to the bar, already causing a scene.

“Hey, where’s the bartender?” one of them barked, slamming his fist on the counter. “Oi, baldy! We’re thirsty! Drinks and women, pronto!”

Their laughter echoed through the nearly empty bar, grating and coarse. One of the men noticed Raven sitting alone, calmly sipping her beer. He sauntered over, looking her up and down.

“Well, well, boys! A lady musketeer. Don’t see that every day.” He leaned closer, grinning. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

Raven didn’t even glance at him. “You couldn’t afford it,” she replied coolly.

The man’s grin turned nasty. “That’s fine. You probably already slept with all your crewmates—and the captain, too!”

The others burst into obnoxious laughter, slapping the bar as they howled.

Raven set her mug down slowly and smiled—a dangerous, predatory smile. “Funny,” she said, rising from her seat. “Because I am the captain.”

With a sharp motion, she swept her leg out, knocking the man to the floor. Before he could react, she drew her pistol and fired, the shot echoing as it lodged in another man’s shoulder.

The third man roared and lunged at her, sword raised. Raven deflected his strike with the blunt end of her pistol, then followed up with a brutal uppercut that sent him staggering back.

Chaos erupted as Raven dispatched the three men with swift, calculated movements. The last of them slumped to the floor, groaning in pain.

A slow clap broke the silence.

“Well, if it isn’t Raven Silvertooth,” came a familiar voice.

Raven turned to see the fourth man standing near the door. Unlike the others, he wasn’t laughing—just watching her with a faint smirk.

“Or should I say Captain Silvertooth,” he added.

Raven narrowed her eyes, studying his face. “Do I know you?”

The man stepped forward, lowering his hood. “It’s me. Lance. Remember?”

Recognition dawned on her, and her expression shifted. “Lance? What happened to you?”

Lance gave a bitter chuckle. “What always happens, Captain. I’m just looking out for myself. Behem’s paying in gold, and I figured I’d take my share. Nothing personal.”

Raven’s hand tightened around her pistol. “You’ve sold your soul for gold, Lance. How’s that working out for you?”

Lance shrugged, his smirk faltering. “Better than starving. But let’s not make this harder than it has to be.”

Raven’s gaze hardened as she stood her ground, pistol still in hand. “You’ve got nerve showing your face, Lance. After what you pulled, I should’ve put a bullet in you back then.”

Lance smirked faintly, but his eyes held no mirth. “Should’ve, maybe. But you didn’t. And now here we are.” He gestured to the men Raven had just taken down. “Guess you’re still as ruthless as ever.”

“Don’t test me,” Raven said coldly. “You betrayed the crew, and you betrayed me. Whatever Behem’s paying you, it’s not worth what you gave up. So tell me, Lance—why?”

The smirk faded from Lance’s face, replaced by something darker, angrier. “Why? You really don’t know, do you?” He let out a bitter laugh. “You exiled me, Raven. Threw me out like garbage. After all the battles we fought together, all the times I bled for you and the crew, you didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself.”

“You lied to me!” Raven snapped, her voice sharp as steel. “You stole from the crew’s treasury, Lance. Coins meant to feed us, to pay for repairs, to keep us alive. I trusted you, and you spit on that trust.”

Lance’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “And you never asked why, did you? Never thought to ask what drove me to it?”

Raven’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t care about your excuses. You broke the code. That was the end of it.”

Lance took a step closer, his voice rising. “You don’t care because you never wanted to know! My sister was dying, Raven. Dying! The coin I took wasn’t for me—it was for her. Medicine costs more than a sailor’s wage, and you damn well know it. I begged you for help, but you wouldn’t hear it. Said it wasn’t the crew’s problem.”

Raven faltered, the steel in her eyes flickering. “I... didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Lance spat, his voice laced with venom. “You were too busy being the unshakable Captain Silvertooth, too busy keeping up your precious reputation. You didn’t care about me. You didn’t care about any of us, not really. We were just tools to you. Expendable.”

“That’s not true,” Raven said, but her voice lacked the certainty it once held.

Lance shook his head. “You can lie to yourself all you want, Raven, but the truth doesn’t change. When you exiled me, I had nothing. No ship, no crew, no way to survive. I thought I’d die out there. But Behem? He gave me a chance. He gave me a purpose.”

Raven’s grip on her pistol tightened. “A purpose to terrorize innocent people and serve a madman?”

Lance’s smirk returned, colder this time. “Call it what you want. At least Behem values loyalty. At least he doesn’t abandon his own when they’re desperate.”

Raven felt a knot tightening in her chest, a storm of emotions she couldn’t quite name. “You think this is loyalty? You’re nothing but a pawn to him, Lance. A disposable weapon. And when he’s done with you, he’ll cast you aside, just like you claim I did.”

Lance’s expression hardened. “Maybe. But at least I’ll have gold in my pocket and blood on my blade when it happens. And that’s more than you ever gave me.”

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They stood there in tense silence, the air between them crackling with unspoken words.

“I didn’t exile you lightly,” Raven said finally, her voice quieter now. “I did what I thought was right for the crew. For all of us. Maybe I made a mistake. But siding with Behem? That’s not the answer, Lance. It’s not too late to walk away from this.”

Lance laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. “Walk away? From Behem? You really don’t get it, do you? There’s no walking away. Not from him.”

“Then help me stop him,” Raven said, taking a step closer. “Whatever’s happened between us, Lance, you know what Behem is. You know he’s a monster. Fight with me. Let me help you make this right.”

For a moment, something flickered in Lance’s eyes—regret, hesitation, doubt. But it was gone as quickly as it came.

“I made my choice a long time ago, Captain,” he said, his voice cold and final. “And I’m not turning back now.”

Raven sighed, her hand steadying on her pistol. “Then you’ve left me no choice.”

Lance’s smirk returned, cruel and sharp. He reached for the hilt of the sword at his side, drawing it in a single, fluid motion. The blade gleamed in the dim light of the bar. “Let’s see if you’re still as sharp with that blade as you are with your words.”

The two former crewmates faced off, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy in the air.

Lance swung his sword with precision, aiming for Raven's midsection. She blocked it effortlessly with her own blade, the clash of steel ringing out through the bar. Their swords met with a resounding crash, sparks flying off from the impact.

"You're as quick as ever," Lance sneered, pushing against her blade with force. "But you were always blind, Silvertooth. Always so caught up in your own little world that you couldn't see what was right in front of you!" He twisted his sword, attempting to disarm her, but Raven deftly sidestepped the move, her eyes cold with a mixture of disappointment and resolve.

"You think I didn't see it?" Raven's voice was calm, but firm as she parried another strike. "I saw everything, Lance. I saw your greed. Your selfishness. And that's why I exiled you."

Lance let out a bitter laugh, his sword swishing through the air with a deadly precision. "Greed? Selfishness? You think I left because of that? No, Raven, it was because you couldn’t see what needed to be done. You were too soft. Too idealistic. You could never make the hard decisions, could you? You let loyalty blind you to what was right in front of you!" He lunged forward, but Raven deflected the blow and spun to her feet, her movements fluid and graceful despite the intensity of the fight.

Raven's eyes narrowed, her voice now harder, sharper. "You mean you couldn't handle discipline. You couldn’t follow the code of honor that kept us alive. Every one of us, including you, took an oath. I didn’t exile you because you were weak, Lance. I did it because you were no longer fit to lead by my side. You were willing to sacrifice anything — even your own soul — for money and power. I couldn’t stand by that."

Lance's face twisted in anger. "You’re a fool, Raven! The world doesn't work like that! You can’t survive on ideals alone! People like Behem, they understand that. They know how to win. And look where I am now — powerful, respected — while you're still stuck playing the hero."

Raven's eyes blazed with a fierce resolve. "You think power is everything? You think respecting someone like Behem, a man who destroys everything in his path, is the way to win?" She stepped forward, their swords meeting again in a furious clash, her strength pushing him back slightly. "I’ll tell you what I understand, Lance. I understand that honor, loyalty, and trust are the things that make a crew strong. It's not about gold, or power. It's about the people you fight for."

Lance sneered, wiping the sweat from his brow. "And look where those ideals have gotten you. Running from the shadows of men like Behem, pretending like you’re some kind of saint while the world burns. You can’t save everyone, Raven!"

Lance’s sword faltered slightly, his grip tightening as he spoke through gritted teeth. "You think you were the only one who made sacrifices? You think you were the only one who had to endure loss?" His voice cracked with an edge of bitterness, the weight of his words almost too much to bear.

Raven's brow furrowed, her sword still poised for the next strike. "What are you talking about, Lance?"

Lance took a step back, his gaze hardening as memories resurfaced. "After you exiled me... everything fell apart. I lost everything I had left. My sister, the only family I had left, she died not long after you tossed me out. She... she was sick, Raven." His voice trembled slightly with the pain of it all, his sword lowering momentarily as his eyes filled with a deep, haunted regret. "I couldn't save her. You didn’t give me a chance to do what I needed to do. The crew... that was everything to me. But without that, I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t save her from what was coming."

Raven hesitated, her expression softening for just a moment, but Lance’s next words struck like a blade.

"And then Behem came to me," he continued, his voice growing colder. "He offered me something no one else could. He promised me that he could bring her back — that he could bring her back. He said he had the power to do it, Raven." Lance’s eyes were wild with desperation. "You don’t understand. I had nothing left. I thought if I just joined him... If I just gave him what he wanted, maybe I could make things right. Maybe I could get her back. But that’s the price, isn’t it? Power comes at a cost. And now I’m bound to him. I’ve seen things, Raven. Things that will change everything. But... But I’ll get her back, no matter what it takes."

Raven’s sword lowered, her stance faltering as she processed Lance’s words. For a moment, the reality of the situation set in. She took a deep breath, her voice steady, but the pain was clear. "Lance... You don't think I wanted to save her too? You think I didn't feel the weight of every decision I made? But I could see it, Lance. The path you were taking. It was the same path I saw in the eyes of every pirate who betrayed their own morals for power. For gold. For revenge. It’s not the answer. It never is."

Lance's eyes flashed with a mixture of rage and pain. "You don’t understand! You can’t! You have no idea what it’s like to lose everything, to watch someone slip away and not be able to do a damn thing about it!" His sword swung in a wide arc, but Raven parried it easily.

"I understand loss, Lance," Raven said, her voice low but firm. "And I understand that you’re willing to throw away everything you were for the false promise of getting her back. Behem is no savior. He’s a monster who preys on the weak, who’ll take everything you have and leave you with nothing but regret. You’re not going to bring her back by following him. You’re just going to destroy yourself."

Lance’s gaze hardened once more, the mask of anger replacing the vulnerability he had shown. "Maybe that’s the price I’m willing to pay. Maybe it’s worth it, if it means seeing her again. If I have to be a monster to bring her back, then so be it."

Raven stepped closer, her eyes locking with his. "But that’s not who you are, Lance. You were my crewmate. My brother. I won’t let you destroy yourself over a lie. Come back. You can still make things right. I’ll fight with you, but you have to let go of Behem’s promise."

For a moment, Lance stood still, his sword hovering between them. The tension in the room thickened, a battle not just of steel, but of hearts and minds. Raven’s voice softened, pleading. "Please, Lance. I’m giving you a choice. Don’t follow this path."

Lance’s grip tightened on his sword, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. He looked down at the blade in his hand, as if weighing the choice that lay before him. And for a moment, there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

But then, with a sharp exhale, Lance raised his sword once more. "It’s too late for that, Raven. I’ve already made my choice."

Raven clenched her jaw as Lance’s sword came down again, a ferocious arc filled with fury and pain. She parried the strike with a sharp clang of steel, her boots grinding against the wooden floor as she held her ground.

"Lance, listen to me!" Raven shouted, stepping back and countering with a quick slash that forced him to pivot. "You’re chasing a ghost! Behem is using your grief to control you!"

Lance didn’t falter, his strikes relentless, each one filled with raw, desperate emotion. "What would you know about it?" he bellowed, slashing wide and forcing Raven to duck under the blow. "You never cared about anyone but yourself, Raven! You threw me out without a second thought! You left me to rot!"

Raven blocked another blow, the impact of their swords reverberating through her arms. "I cared about all of you! I made the choices I did to keep the crew alive! You think it was easy? Do you think I wanted to exile you?" She pushed him back with a quick riposte, their blades clashing again in a flurry of strikes.

Lance’s face twisted with rage as he pressed forward. "Don’t lie to me! You always thought you were better than the rest of us. You thought you knew everything, but you were blind! Blind to the fact that we needed you, that I needed you!"

Raven gritted her teeth, sweat dripping down her brow as she sidestepped his next attack and retaliated with a precise thrust that nicked his shoulder. "I knew you were angry, Lance, but I didn’t know you’d let it consume you like this. Behem doesn’t care about you or your sister! He’s feeding you lies!"

Lance roared, charging at her with a powerful overhead slash. Raven sidestepped, her blade catching his in a perfect parry that sent sparks flying. Their swords locked, and Lance leaned in close, his voice low and venomous. "And what if he’s not lying, huh? What if he can bring her back? She didn’t deserve to die, Raven. She was innocent. And if there’s even a chance I can see her again, I’ll take it!"

Raven pushed him back with a shove, her blade swinging in a quick arc to keep him at bay. "And what happens when Behem asks you to pay the price? What happens when he demands your soul, your humanity? You think your sister would want that? You think she’d want to see you become a monster for her sake?"

Lance hesitated for a fraction of a second, his eyes narrowing as if her words had struck a nerve. But he quickly shook his head, gripping his sword tighter. "Don’t pretend to know her, Raven. Don’t act like you have any idea what she would want. She was all I had, and now she’s gone. You don’t get to lecture me on loss!"

Their blades met again in a furious clash, the sound ringing through the bar like a thunderclap. Raven’s movements were precise and calculated, while Lance’s strikes were wild and heavy, driven by raw emotion.

"I do know what it’s like to lose people!" Raven shouted, dodging a powerful swing that shattered a nearby table. "I’ve lost crewmates! Friends! People I would have died for! And every time, it hurts like hell! But I didn’t let that pain turn me into something I’m not!"

Lance growled, swinging his sword in a wide arc that forced Raven to leap back. "You don’t understand, Raven! Behem is the only one who can make this right. The only one who can give me back what I’ve lost!"

Raven shook her head, her voice tinged with both anger and sadness. "And at what cost, Lance? Your soul? Your freedom? The man you used to be?" She steadied her sword, her eyes locking with his. "You’re better than this. I know you are. Don’t let your grief blind you."

Lance hesitated again, his breathing heavy, his grip on his sword faltering for a brief moment. But then his jaw tightened, and he raised his weapon once more. "It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve made my choice, Raven. I’ll do whatever it takes to see her again. Even if it means cutting you down."

Raven’s heart sank, but she didn’t lower her blade. "Then I’ll do whatever it takes to stop you, Lance. Even if it means saving you from yourself."

The fight raged on, their swords clashing with unrelenting ferocity as Raven tried to reach the man she once called her brother. But Lance’s grief and desperation kept him locked in Behem’s grip, and the battle seemed destined to end in tragedy.

Their blades clashed one last time, a resounding echo that filled the empty bar. Raven’s muscles burned as she parried Lance’s ferocious strike, sidestepped his follow-up, and countered with a swift, precise slash. Her sword struck true, cutting across Lance’s midsection and sending him stumbling backward.

Lance dropped his sword, falling to his knees as blood began to seep through his tunic. His breathing was ragged, his strength failing. Raven stood over him, her blade still raised, though her hands trembled.

"Lance..." she said softly, her voice heavy with emotion. "Why couldn’t you stop? Why couldn’t you just let me help you?"

Lance looked up at her, his face pale, but his eyes carried a strange mixture of sorrow and peace. "Because I didn’t want your help, Raven," he whispered. "Not back then. Not now. I wanted to prove you wrong... to show you that I didn’t need you, that I was stronger than you thought I was."

Raven lowered her sword slightly, her heart twisting at his words. "Lance, I never thought you were weak. I exiled you because your recklessness was putting the crew in danger. I had to protect them... and you."

He chuckled weakly, a bitter sound that turned into a cough. "Funny, isn’t it? I hated you for that. I told myself you didn’t care, that you never cared. But deep down... I think I always knew you did."

Raven knelt beside him, her voice breaking. "Lance, you should’ve come back. I would’ve taken you back. We could’ve worked through it. You didn’t have to go down this path."

He shook his head, a faint, sad smile playing on his lips. "It’s too late for that now. I made my choice... and it led me here. Behem promised me something I couldn’t refuse." His gaze grew distant, his voice softer. "He promised me I’d see her again... my sister. I missed her so much, Raven. She was the only light in my life after my parents died. When she passed, I... I didn’t know how to go on."

Raven’s throat tightened as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Lance, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. If I had..."

He looked at her, tears welling in his eyes. "Don’t blame yourself. I was too stubborn, too angry. I should’ve listened to you, should’ve trusted you. But I let my pride get in the way. And now... now I get to see her again. Maybe this was always how it was meant to end."

Raven shook her head, her tears falling freely. "No, Lance. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. You deserved better. You deserved a second chance."

He smiled faintly, his hand weakly reaching up to touch hers. "Maybe I did. But this... this is my second chance, Raven. Tell her... tell her I’m sorry for being such a fool. And tell her... thank you... for everything."

His hand fell away, his eyes closing as his body went limp. Raven knelt there, her heart heavy with grief, her mind racing with memories of the man he once was.

She rose slowly, her sword hanging at her side. "Goodbye, Lance," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I hope you find the peace you were looking for."

As she turned and walked away, the weight of the moment settled over her. She didn’t know if she’d ever forgive herself for what happened, but she knew one thing for certain: she would not let Behem manipulate anyone else. Lance’s sacrifice would not be in vain.