Chapter 20

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"We are in the Weeping Peninsula"he said to her 

She didnt react much sitting sillently behind him on the horse 

"What are you here for?"She asked though her voice naturally sounds cold but it dosent seems to be towards him

"well you see i want to deliver a letter you know.. My maiden father Edgar he is the warden of Castle Morne."

"Hmm Your maiden"She muttured coldly as she fell silent it seems the only part she cought is the maiden one 

Soon they settled into their camp, the warmth of the fire flickered between them, casting soft light over their faces. He stretched his legs out, leaning back against a fallen log and watching her across the fire.

She broke the silence first. "So, this maiden of yours," she began. "Why are you delivering the letter?"

He paused, glancing into the flames. "well becouse i promised her to deliver the latter to her father Edger the situation in castel morne is quite bad youl know when we arrive there ," he replied, his voice steady, though he spoke with a certain reverence.

After a moment, he pulled out a small flask, taking a sip before offering it to her. She accepted, her fingers brushing his briefly as she took it, surprising them both.

"You know," he said, breaking the quiet with a low voice, "for someone who acts like she doesn't care, you're here. Following me, even now."

She snorted softly, not bothering to look at him as she poked the fire with a stick. "Maybe I just don't trust you not to mess this up on your own."

He chuckled, leaning back on his hands. "Well, lucky me, then. Guess I'm stuck with you."

She finally glanced his way, her lips twitching with the hint of a smirk. "Don't get too comfortable. I'm not here to babysit you."

"Of course not," he said with mock seriousness, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "You're just here for the scenery."

she didn't reply, letting the easy silence stretch between them. The firelight flickered over her face, softening her usual sharp edges, and for a moment, he wondered what thoughts she kept locked away behind that guarded expression.

After a while, he shifted, the tension of the day settling into his muscles. "We should get some rest," he said, his voice quieter now, the crackle of the fire filling the space between his words.

"Yeah," she murmured, though she didn't move, her gaze distant.

But just as the night seemed to settle, a faint sound broke through the stillness—hooves striking the earth in a steady, deliberate rhythm. At first, it was distant, almost blending into the rustle of the trees, but it grew louder, more insistent.

He stiffened, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his weapon. The shadows beyond the firelight seemed to shift, twisting unnaturally as the sound closed in.

She was already on edge, her sharp eyes scanning the darkness. "Do you hear that?" she whispered.

"Yeah," he said, standing slowly, his voice calm but firm. 

From the shadows, a rider emerged—a dark figure astride a pitch-black horse, its armor clinking softly with each step. The spectral knight's eyes glowed dimly, like embers in a dying fire. The Night's Cavalry.

The air grew heavy as the rider advanced, raising a massive blade that caught the faint firelight.

Without hesitation, he drew his own weapon,

"Move!" as the first strike crashed into the ground where she had been standing moments before.

The earth trembled, dust and debris swirling into the air.

Nyra melted into the shadows with practiced ease, her movements fluid and deliberate. She disappeared from view, her dark cloak blending seamlessly with the surrounding night.

He kept the knight's attention, dodging the massive swings and countering where he could, though each strike from the enemy carried crushing power.

Nyra circled the knight like a predator, silent and calculating. Her hand brushed the hilt of her dagger—a slender, black knife that absorbed the faint glow of the firelight. She darted forward, her blade slipping into a gap in the knight's armor at his knee. The cursed metal parted, dark ichor spilling forth as the knight staggered.

The rider turned, swinging wildly, but Nyra had already vanished into the dark. She struck again, targeting his other leg, the precision of her movements whittling away at the knight's defenses. Each attack was swift, surgical, and relentless, her strikes finding the weaknesses in his armor.

The knight faltered, its movements growing sluggish. Sensing the opening, he surged forward, his blade flashing as it aimed for the knight's chest.

The cavalryman blocked, but his strength wavered, Its balance disrupted by Nyra's earlier strikes.

In one final move, Nyra reappeared behind the knight. Her knife plunged into the back of his neck, the cursed metal glowing faintly as it severed the magic holding Night's Cavalry together.

With a guttural sound, the knight collapsed, his body dissolving into mist. The black horse whinnied once before vanishing into the night.

Nyra straightened, calmly putting her dagger away. Her companion exhaled sharply, steadying himself as he wiped his blade clean.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," he said, his grin faint but genuine.

Nyra tilted her head, a subtle smile playing on her lips. "A smart decision,"