When he woke up from his dream, it was already mid-morning and Repara was not by his side. On the horizon, the Sawtooth Crown was burning, black smoke filling the clear sky, and the cool breeze carried the scent of war.
"They all went to look for you. But I know you're not someone who would run away."
Said Stenka, standing by the door as Vasili climbed down from the roof. He stood with his arms crossed, looking more serious than ever before, but there was no hint of reproach in his words. Vasili had never seen him wear a wolf skin outside of the tunic, but now he was draped in a jet-black cloak from head to toe.
"Pick up your sword. it's time to get going," Stenka said. Vasili did so, carried the few belongings he had, donned the cloak, and followed Stenka down the mountain path.
"At this point, you should know that Acdepin has ignited the war, and Avalanşă has responded," said Stenka on the way, without turning his head, "As Acdepin tore up the peace agreement, each clan had to kill the hostages held as guarantees."
Vasili said nothing, but followed behind, following Stenka’s footsteps and keeping his head down.
"The lord has decided to have you executed publicly. To the Avalanşă people, you are a mere prisoner," Stenka said sternly, his face grim. "But I know you are a warrior. And since you are a warrior, you should have the right to fight for yourself." As the slope gradually leveled off, Stenka stopped and said, "We've arrived. Follow this road, and you'll be free." Vasili looked up to see the intermittent dirt path winding through a wide glacier-carved valley. "Assuming you pass my test first." Stenka turned around, undid his cloak, and drew his reverse-bladed falx from his waist. He already had a round shield strapped to his arm.
"I don't want to face you, Stenka."
"Neither do I, kid. But some things are beyond my control." Stenka stepped closer to Vasili, "Vasili, think about why you embarked on this path. A warrior has nothing, but he can still hold onto his dignity more tightly than anyone else. We're just a bunch of people who hold our dignity higher than anything else." He stopped and leaned on his sword, reminiscing about the past.
"I am not an Avalanşăn. Fifteen years ago, I raided and slaughtered a caravan and found Repara in a woman's embrace. Later, Avalanşăn warriors surrounded and forced me to surrender. However, the lord approved of my skills and decided to spare my life, and I swore to serve him." Stenka kicked up the blade with his toe and shaved the hairs on his arm with the sharp edge. "Since I have pledged my loyalty, I will not betray my oath, even if it means being covered in wounds. How can a warrior not carry scars with him?" Stenka finished speaking and raised the blade towards Vasili, continuing forward:
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"If a sinner can do it, so can you. So draw your sword, Vasili. Find your dignity in this conversation of life and death."
These words seemed to break the curse that rooted Vasili's feet. He slowly stepped forward, holding his sword at the level of his forehead. The tips of their blades touched lightly, and then the two withdrew their swords and took a two-handed stance.
Vasili's mind echoed with deafening heartbeats and the squeezing sound of blood vessels transporting fear. Just as he felt trapped in this eternal moment, Stenka made the first move, and Vasili raised his blade to block it, but he was a little late to defend. With his tree-trunk-like arm building enough speed, Stenka swung the blade down like a battle-axe, causing Vasili's body to be thrown to the side. He stepped back two paces, and the impact caused his hands gripping the handle to tremble as the blade bounced back.
This was the first time Vasili had heard death in the clang of swords. He looked at Stenka, his foster father whom he had lived with for four years, and gradually the mask on his face disintegrated, revealing the cold warrior underneath. A stranger's face, overlapping with Minte II, who had abandoned Vasili as a child.
Vasili remembered everything he had lost, including Repara, the night princess. He had allowed fate to devour the world around him, but now, with no retreat left, fate had come to seize and swallow him. An instinctive anger bloomed like a flower inside him, almost incinerating Vasili. He became an animal, reaching out to grasp anything within reach and angrily resisting everything fate had thrown at him - and in his hand was a long-handled Devoran falx.
Vasili swung his sword without reserve, and Stenka dodged and blocked in succession. Even though the swordsman had lost his reason, his attacks were not chaotic, but rather became more fierce, as the hard training had already become instinctual. Stenka saw Vasili's dignity in his bloodshot eyes and gasping mouth, which made him feel both proud and pitiful.
The crossing blades left varying depths of cuts on their bodies, yet despite this, the two fighters lost any sense of pain in the heat of battle. Blood sprayed from Vasili's body like a burst sack of wine, but both knew that he would not slow down until he suddenly collapsed. As the round continued, Stenka's rich experience allowed him to hear his own muscles sighing with fatigue. It was time for this terrible fight to end. He seized the opportunity, kicked Vasili twenty feet away, and the latter tumbled like a broken barrel. When he finally stopped, he propped himself up with fists and blade, standing up like a broken puppet. Vasili looked up at Stenka and spat out black hair mixed with blood, dirty snow, and mud.
Stenka held his breath as Vasili held his sword at his side and slowly began to step forward. Then, unexpectedly, Vasili picked up his steps. Stenka, realizing that Vasili's body could no longer withstand a second sprint, also lowered his body and prepared to meet the oncoming thrust or slash...