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Act 1, The Wolf Hunt

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One hand tore open Dàn's long skirt, while the other exposed her breasts. A fist landed on Dàn's nose, pushing her back but not enough to knock her down. Through blurry vision, Dàn saw blood dripping on her hand. A foot stepped on her calf from behind, causing her to kneel on the ground.

"Doesn't she know that even burning one hundred virgins cannot replace her? But Dàn still abandoned her companions. Doesn't she understand that she was deeply loved? But she still chose to betray the one who loved her."

She lifted her head, propping herself up with both hands on the ground, as shadows closed in around her. One of the virgins raised her hand and swung it towards Dàn's cheek, but it landed on her neck instead, making Dàn gasp for air before falling to the ground again. The virgins took turns kicking her.

"Hit her, hit her hard, let her feel the pain and redeem herself through it. Your belief in the divine fire and your love for your fellow beings will give you strength. But don't beat her to death, a body that cannot feel pain cannot redeem itself."

This was supposed to be a rare lively scene, but outside the wall of virgins, there was no singing or clapping. Slowly walking through the motionless mercenaries with his hands behind his back was Pugio, tears in the corners of his eyes as he looked up towards the impenetrable darkness. Seeing that Dàn was no longer moving, Pugio raised his hand to signal the mercenaries to remove the virgins. At this point, the virgins didn't need any instigation, struggling like angry beasts to tear Dàn, who looked like tattered cloth, to pieces.

"Quiet them down! How barbaric!" Pugio shouted impatiently, and the mercenaries drew their swords to scare off the virgins. Traditionally, violence against virgins would bring disaster, but tradition did not say that they could not be intimidated - nor did it forbid the virgins from abusing each other. Pugio came to Dàn's side, half-kneeling beside her and holding her broken body in his arms. He brushed her white hair, which had lost its divine flame, and caressed her arm, which had lost its mark.

"Dàn, oh, my dear Dàn, my treasure, my magical girl, why are you doing this to me? Did papa not treat you well enough?" Pugio whispered as he kissed and sniffed her hair roots. "You thought why didn't I open all the coffins and check them one by one when we passed the cemetery? Because I trusted you. But I never expected that you would spend the night with a man inside, and even abandon the sacred birthmark for him. In your eyes, does anyone have the right to become the High king except for me, Pugio the 'Broad-Back'?"

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Tears as big as beans dropped onto Dàn's cheeks. With closed eyes, Dàn murmured softly as Pugio brought his ear close to her lips. "I'm sorry," Dàn said in a weak voice, "I just followed the thread of fate."

Pugio held Dàn's cold hand and hugged her shoulder that had lost its golden armband. "I forgive you," he said, tears welling up in his elderly eyes, his rough palm rubbing against her delicate skin. "We're both prisoners of fate. The witch also prophesied to me: 'The white-haired girl will rescue you from the burning hell.' Our destinies contradict each other. I didn't break you free from your fate, and let you walk on the wrong path. This is papa's fault." At the same time, his scout returned to the camp, waiting anxiously for the right time to report. "Where is Vasili?" Pugio asked, caressing Dàn's hair braid with affection.

"He set up camp at a clearing in the woods by the crooked-horn river, five miles southeast," the scout replied.

"His fate was sealed when the river blocked his way, it was his place of burial." Pugio lifted Dàn's fragile body and handed her to the virgins to care for. Before letting go, he kissed the back of Dàn's hand. "I swear to you, my darling Dàn, there won't be a next time." He whispered before turning around to face the grim gazes of his mercenaries. "Lads, mount up. It's time to wolf hunt."

With his command, the soldiers donned their armor and weapons, their voices ringing out. Pugio walked among his men, boosting their morale. "Tonight we prey on Vasili Martin Anganas, 'First of the Fire Thieves'. We didn't give him no choices. He's on this miserable road because of his own choosing; he won't give up the divine fire, which proves that his ambitions are still burning bright. Do you know what they say about him? Once a thief, always a thief."

The squire led forward a chestnut horse and helped Pugio onto its back, handing him a feathered helmet. "Sigh all you want, boys. That just means you're still young. But as an old man, let me tell you: all those tales about Vasili are true. If we don't take him out today, we'll have to pray each day that we won't meet him on the road to the Stone of Destiny. I've seen enough in my old age to know that the decisive moment is now, determining our fate."

"What about the traditional oath?" One of the mercenaries questioned as they mounted their horses.

"The Empire has long gone, what oaths are there to keep?" Pugio tightened his helmet and spurred his horse forward.