He couldn't see anything in front of him other than his end. Seeing the blade hanging in his sight, ready to take his life anytime, as all it needs for it was to drop and stab it towards his head, he knew he had nowhere to go. His cold sweat was now flowing from his face towards the grass, and his whole body was shivering in fear. Even the pain on his feet was nothing but a bite of a mosquito for him.
Despite being a prodigy and skilled to any weapons and fields of intelligence, cowardice and emotions won over him this time. Seeing Alfred Cenburd, the knight who had always been beside the king that he could be considered as his advisor, become his killer, rather than die with honor on a war, made him frustrated. If only he could die in a more honorable way than assassination.