As he snapped back to the present with this memory within his heart, the two mentors were still arguing on the best course of action. All the while, the cultist was on his knees with a begging expression, covering before the warriors.

'Spare me,' it said repeatedly. 'Spare me please!'

The man had enough. He knew what he had to do. And this time he wanted to make an example.

'Why?' he asked the cultist, drawing everyone's attention to him. 'So you can trap the next group of travelers in this part of the woods? No, you wouldn't spare us.' He drew out his sword. Black veins crawled up his forearms, but quickly running back to the blade.

'I made a mistake like this, and it has cost people's lives. I will not take the risk of it happening twice!'

With that, he kicked the cultist in the chest, making it fall to its back. Then, with a swift slash of his weapon, he cut down one of its arms.

The cultist started to scream with agony as blood flowed from the wound like a river. The others were shocked. They half expected him to behead the creature, but this was different.

Scythian was the only one who could speak.

'What are you doing?!'

'Cutting its limbs!' the wandered overshouted the cultists screams. 'Im ending this now!'

He then slashed again, severing a leg. And again. And again. Until all that remained of the cultist was a bleeding torso. It did not even have the strength to scream its pain away anymore.

With his deed finished, he sheated his sword and walked away from his victim. The others stood in shock and in silence.

Wolf drew his mallet. He readied himself to finish the job.

'No,' the traveler said, as he looked at the one who trapped them with despise. 'Leave its body at the side of the forest. Let it bleed out.'

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The master of battle turned to the swordsman.

'Woa there. Im all about to kill this filth, but this... this is too ruthless. Even for me.'

He turned back to his mentor.

'Fine. If you want to finish it, go ahead. But I would take a look at its chest first.'

Puzzled, both of their mentors examined the living torso. They did not understand what their pupil could mean. Not until they saw a soft glow on a symbol in its chest.

'A rune!' said the old scholar.

'One final surprise.' the man aggreed.

Hesitantly, the group backed away from it. Scythian asked the warrior.

'Could you not at least burn it with magic? Like the webs. Please, even it deserves that much. We don't even know if it joined the cult willfully!'

The man decided that this was enough. And without consideration, he started to walk in the way of the city, which they saw in the distance.

'If you want to do it, do it yourself. Maybe I could, but it wasted enough of my time and energy already. Not mentioning what other traps he had conjured up. You two have taught me a lot since we first met. Now here's a teaching from me, which was hard for me to learn. Ruthlessnes is mercy upon ourselves.'*

With that, the company continued their way to the next settlement.

Back then.

Wingrall could barely walk straight. He had to support himself tree by tree, just to not fall over. He was disgraced. Banished. Alone. And the only thing on his mind was one thing. Vengeance.

'You look like you could use a hand.' a voice chuckled.

Wingrall quickly looked around to see who was speaking to him. He then saw a robed figure to his left. He could not work out much of him, but one thing was certain. He was a mage.

'Who are you?' the humiliated brute asked.

'Just a spectator.' answered the mage. 'I happened to overhear what transpired on that field. I have a proposal for you. Help me achieve what I want. And in return, you will get all that you desire. Your own fiefdom, soldiers, and most of all, Your revenge. All I ask is your servitude.'

Wingrall thought for a moment. He was not a servant to anyone. He also knew that in his position, he would not live long. But most of all, the lone mage offered him vengeance. It was an opportunity worth listening to at least.

'Im all ears.' came his answer.

The mage was pleased.