Seated across from the old man William was a figure that barely resembled the living—
a man whose silver hair and pale skin made him look like a walking corpse.
But what truly stirred the old man's revulsion were the black threads—thick, unnatural—stitched crudely across his limbs and neck, as if his flesh had been sewn together like some forgotten monster.
And yet… he smiled. A faint, eerie smile that only deepened the unease.
The man lifted his wine glass with mechanical grace and said in a hoarse voice:
"You never answered my question, old friend."
William looked at him, his voice calm but distant:
"I'm sorry, my lord… but I swear to you—he is not here."
Before the man could respond, the sound of slow, deliberate footsteps filled the room.
Then he appeared—Slazar—draped in a long black coat, his face unreadable, his aura colder than death.
"Were you looking for me, Henrik?" he asked, his voice like steel wrapped in frost.
Henrik's face lit up with twisted joy as he leapt forward, arms outstretched:
"Rahigh ! I thought you were dead! I searched for you everywhere!"
Slazar dodged effortlessly. Henrik fell to the ground, rolling with a grunt before sitting up with exaggerated theatrics:
"Ouch… didn't you miss me, Rahegh? Oh, how cruel… shattering my little heart like this…"
Slazar rubbed his face, as if chasing away the ghost of a memory—
the echo of something Rahigh. had once told him in the Inner Altar:
"Listen, Slazar. In this world, I've trusted almost no one.
But I do have one friend—annoying, reckless, yet useful.
His name is Henrik.
Try not to kill him. Live with him if you must."
Slazar had seen all of Rahigh's memories He knew who this man truly was.
Not just a companion, but a brother.
They had both grown up without father or mother, abandoned in the same filthy orphanage They had survived together in blood and shadow.
Slazar felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest—a dull, bitter jealousy.
In his former life, he had never known friendship.
Only the blade. Only the hunt.
He had trained and killed for so long… he had forgotten what it meant to be human.
He stared down at Henrik and muttered:
"Get up, you idiot."
Henrik grinned wickedly:
"No hug for your long-lost brother?"
Slazar glared at him:
"In your dreams."
He turned to the old man, William, and gave a short nod.
"Thank you."
William answered with a smile that didn't reach his eyes:
"You're most welcome."
Without another word, Slazar walked toward the door.
"Come on, Henrik."
Henrik tilted his head like a curious dog:
"Where to, Rahigh.?"
Slazar paused at the threshold. His voice was quiet, but it carried like thunder:
"To the Capital… to finish what we started."