The Fated Nemesis

"What's happened, Captain?" Duglas asked, noting Andros's unusual expression.

Andros handed him the letter and its container, gazing across the vast snowy wasteland. "The Holy Emperor has sent Gothard and Bachmann with the Priests of the Wing of Light to Ice Snow Island. They've now reached the City of Glowing Light."

"Isn't that good news? With them here, we'll have complete control over Ice Snow Island!" Duglas said with excitement after a glance at the letter. "Together with the priestly order, we should be able to capture Grayson easily!"

"I'm not worried about Grayson; it's the others who concern me." Andros shot a quick glance at his deputy commander's enthusiastic face, his own gaze icy enough to douse Duglas's fervor.

"As the leader of the Wing of Light Priestly Order, High Priest Gothard is a notorious zealot of the church. To him, not just people like Grayson, but even merfolk like Miss Seraphine, are malevolent heretics."

Andros turned again toward the snowy expanse below, watching sunlight scatter through the misty air. "I'd rather Gothard and his priests didn't intervene. It could make the situation here even more chaotic."

"But they've already arrived, on the Holy Emperor's orders. We can't just send them away!" retorted Duglas.

"True, but we can't let them wreak havoc either. I don't want to see Gothard and his fanatics start a massacre on Ice Snow Island!"

With that, Andros headed for his griffin, calling out to his knights, "Mount up, knights, we set off to meet the brothers of the priestly order!"

...

Meanwhile, Grayson had found a wind-sheltered mound with the injured Morven. He cleared a clean area of soil for Morven to sit and began tending to his wound.

"Damn it, this wound is too deep. What now?"

Examining the serious injury on Morven's left side, Grayson could only use strips of cloth to bind the wound temporarily. He then took out a cigar from his pouch, lit it, and handed it to Morven, "Here, brother, this will help ease the pain."

After passing the cigar to Morven, Grayson stood to gather herbs, but then he noticed Seraphine approaching swiftly from the slope, her voice laced with urgency, "How is Morven?"

"His wound is bad. We lack the means to treat it properly. Can you save him?" Grayson asked, worry creasing his brow.

Seraphine rushed to Morven's side, inspecting the wound she replied, "I can stop the bleeding, but healing will take time."

She transferred her merfolk staff to her left hand, pressing her right palm against Morven's wound. Whispering an incantation, a mist formed from the staff's mermaid figure, morphing into a crystalline miniature mermaid in mid-air.

The mermaid circled the staff, gliding down Seraphine's arm to enter Morven's wound. As she wove through the gash, her body stitched the flesh together, then vanished, leaving Morven pain-free.

"There's no longer any danger to his life, but he must avoid strenuous activity to prevent reopening the wound," Seraphine advised Morven, who nodded in gratitude.

"It's the least I could do," Seraphine reassured, signaling Katheren to watch over Morven. She washed the blood from her hands with snow and stood, facing Grayson, "I'd like to talk."

"All right, let's head up the slope; let Morven rest in peace for a while." Grayson turned to Katheren, "Take care of Elyra." She nodded as they ascended the hillside.

"If you have something to say, go ahead, but I hope you're not the captain's envoy," Grayson said, clearing a spot atop the hill and lighting another cigar.

Seraphine quietly followed, then draped her deep blue cloak around Grayson's tattered clothes.

Grayson looked at her inquiringly as she sat next to him and began, "You were too reckless today, nothing like the man I knew before."

"Thank you, but you never really knew me," Grayson said, his gaze trailing over the foggy wilderness.

"I don't understand the grudge between you and Andros. What causes you to clash so fiercely?" Seraphine rubbed snow over her skin, which melted, hydrating her mermaid physiology.

"Me and him?" Grayson watched her snow bath, shaking his head with a smile, "Our relationship is like a cat-and-mouse game—a demon hunter and a vampire without any personal vendetta."

"Then why the furious outburst? You seem to hold a deep hatred for him and the church."

"I just don't want to see Elyra harmed by the church again," Grayson's face stiffened with solemnity, "She's already been killed once by the church, and I don't want her to go through that a second time." (Refer to Chapter Two)

"Elyra..." Seraphine's eyes widened with surprise, looking to Grayson who shared Elyra's story. She was shocked to learn of the little owl's painful past.

"Now you see why I despise the church?" Grayson's gaze met her saddened expression, taking a deep draw from his cigar, "Elyra is just one of millions. To the Holy Emperor, they are not living beings, but sacrificial lambs."

"I understand your feelings, but I don't believe Andros is that kind of person. He didn't know about Elyra; he didn't mean to hurt her," Seraphine said, desperate to defend.

"I know, Andros is one of the most upright believers I've met, or else he wouldn't have let us go," Grayson offered a nod of recognition.

"So, can't we stop the fighting and work together to find the relic? For me, if nothing else...?"

Grayson looked back at her earnest eyes, "Perhaps one day, I will stand with him against any trouble that might arise, but now is not the time..."

Seraphine sighed softly in silence, suddenly recalling Alyssia's murder, and urgently queried Grayson for the truth.

After Grayson revealed the tale of "Bloodhand" Wystan and the black-robed men, Seraphine was astonished, speculating, "So, it's likely Wystan who stole the black-robed man's body. And the white fur on Alyssia, could it be Duglas?"

"I've had my suspicions about Duglas, but a tuft of fur won't convince Andros."

Grayson's brows furrowed, "Moreover, I can't fathom why Wystan would leave his men's bodies to be found if he had the power to save them. I don't understand what he's after."

"Perhaps he simply wanted to use those men as bait, to set you against the knights, to have you destroy each other!" Seraphine suggested promptly.

"That's possible, but it seems there's more than meets the eye," Grayson muttered thoughtfully, then a sudden gunshot echoed across the snowy plains.