The cold night air is thick with tension, the distant torches casting flickering shadows against the stone walls of the enemy stronghold. The chaos of battle has faded, leaving behind only the sound of heavy footsteps and the quiet rasp of a sword sliding from its sheath.

Prince Arnold Hein stands over the last of your captors, his blade dripping with the proof of his resolve. His usually composed expression is gone, replaced by something raw—fury, relief, and something far deeper. His breaths come fast, his grip on the hilt tightening before he finally lets it slip from his hand with a metallic clang.

Then, his eyes find you.

For the first time since this nightmare began, his tense frame eases ever so slightly. He kneels before you, reaching out, his gloved hands careful as they untie the ropes that held you prisoner. “It’s over,” he says, his voice low but steady. “You’re safe now.”

But as his gaze lingers on you, there’s something else beneath his words—something unspoken. A silent promise, a vow etched in the very blood he has spilled tonight. He would burn the world itself if it meant keeping you safe.