Barkscratch stopped at the forest’s edge.
“Here you go, little one,” he said gently, lowering Elle to the ground. “Are you sure you’ll be alright without Mr. Eric?”
Elle nodded. “Thank you, Barkscratch. I’ll be fine,” she said as she wrapped her arms around the great bear’s head. “Be safe going home.”
Barkscratch watched her for a moment longer, then turned and lumbered back toward Winterfawn.
As Elle drew closer to River Hallow, she began to hear it—soft at first, then louder with each step:
“One.”
It echoed again.
“One.”
Repeated in unison, the word floated on the wind like a chant. To Elle, it was oddly beautiful. Comforting, even. She followed the sound to its source.
At the town center, a crowd had gathered, a sea of people standing in tense silence, broken only by the unified voice calling out, again and again:
“One.”
Elle couldn’t see what they were watching, not at first. But she noticed the children. Many were crying. Their parents held them close, their own eyes brimming with tears. The soldiers stood stiff and solemn, some with heads bowed.
Whatever had happened here, it had shaken everyone… to their soul.
Elle pushed through the crowd until she finally saw what they were staring at.
A man lay crumpled on the ground. Blood had soaked into the dirt beneath him. His flesh was torn from the bone, deep gashes carved into the exposed vertebrae. She remained silent—no tears—but a heavy pity swelled within her for the poor man who had suffered this fate. "That man is mean."
“This is the will of the Creator!” Brother Douglas shouted to the crowd.
Behind him, horses arrived. Several figures dismounted.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Rhaine’s voice rang out, cutting through the tension like a blade. She stormed toward Douglas, her eyes locked onto him. “Who gave you the order to do this to that man?!”
Brother Douglas, still breathless, turned to face her. “I am Brother Douglas, Commander of the Church’s army. Who the hell are you?”
Rhaine stopped when she was face to face with him. Her voice was cold and commanding.
“I am Lady Rhaine Duchantte, leader of the Church’s forces in River Hallow. Now explain yourself.”
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Douglas stood silent for a moment, catching his breath.
“Well, the Lady finally decided to show up,” he sneered. “While you were off lollygagging, I uncovered a great sin in River Hallow.”
He kicked Lucas’s lifeless body. “Father Lucas needed to be purified by pain.”
Rhaine hadn't recognized the man when she entered town, but now—seeing his bloodied corpse—her breath caught. Her fist shot forward, striking Douglas square in the jaw.
“You had no authority to do this!” she snapped.
Douglas staggered, then spat blood onto the dirt. Without warning, he backhanded Rhaine across the face.
“I am the only authority this town needs!” he roared. “It was a mistake to send some floozy woman to lead the charge against the Harbinger!”
He raised his arm to strike her with the whip—but before the blow could fall, his movement stopped cold.
Douglas looked behind him and saw Jirjin, gripping his arm tight.
“Give the word, Holy Woman,” Jirjin growled. “And I’ll break every bone he has, starting with this hand.”
His grip tightened around Douglas’s wrist until the whip slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground.
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Alex stepped forward.
“Don’t, brother. Let him go,” he said calmly, standing beside Rhaine. His voice was steady as he unsheathed his sword.
“There are three types of people in this world,” he continued, the blade catching the light. “The leaders... the followers…” He paused, then glanced at Rhaine. “And those who need to learn their damn place.”
Rhaine’s fury still burned, but her mind was clear. She needed to take control—and fast.
She gave a sharp nod. “Arm him,” she ordered, stepping back.
Then to the soldiers, her voice rang out:
“None shall interfere. This is a Challenge for Command.”
She was tired from the journey, but her exhaustion was buried beneath the hunger for justice. Douglas would answer for what he’d done.
“Wait a minute!” Douglas shouted, panic creeping into his voice. He was still winded from the savage beating he’d delivered to Lucas. “This isn’t a fair fight!”
Jirjin turned him around sharply, shoving him back a step.
“Was it fair when you tied up Father Lucas and whipped him to death?” Jirjin growled. He restrained himself from smashing Douglas’s face in then and there.
One of the soldiers tossed a sword to the ground at Douglas’s feet. The metal rang out, sharp and cold.
Douglas grumbled, seething with wounded pride.
“Fine. After this, I’ll put you on kitchen duty, woman!” he snarled, snatching up the sword and lunging at Rhaine.
Rhaine sidestepped the attack, her blade flashing as it deflected Douglas’s strike. She pivoted, swinging her sword around in a wide arc that met his. The clash rang out through the square as both fighters locked weapons, pressing into each other, muscles taut with effort.
Rhaine broke the stalemate, shoving off with a grunt and lunging forward. Douglas parried her thrust and managed to backhand her across the face again.
“Tell me your best recipe!” he sneered, sweat and spit flying from his lips.
Rhaine spun her sword around and barely missed taking his head off. “Bastard Soup!” she barked. “You’ll be drinking some soon!”
The crowd gasped and murmured as the fight intensified.
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Not far from the circle, Dareth stood enthralled. “I know you’re writing this in your book,” he muttered, elbowing Thomas in the ribs. “Five coins on Douglas.”
Before Thomas could respond, other soldiers began joining in, calling out bets and passing coins around. But Thomas ignored the chaos. His quill danced across the page, trying to capture every furious movement, every clash of steel.
Then he felt a tug on his shirt.
He looked down to see Elle standing beside him, her expression calm despite the brutal fight.
“Little girl, you shouldn’t be seeing this,” Thomas said, hurriedly tucking his journal away. He scanned the crowd, searching for her parents. “Go back to your family.”
“My name is Elle, not little girl,” she said, folding her arms. “I’m a bear. Like Barkscratch!” She raised her hands and wiggled her fingers like claws, her voice full of innocent pride.
"Sure, You’re a bear and I am the Creator." Thomas said as he tried to pick Elle up and get her away. She quickly broke free and wandered into the crowd of people again.
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“When we’re done, I’ll bury your body next to his!” Douglas roared as he struck Rhaine down again, gesturing toward Lucas’s bloodied corpse. Seizing the moment, he lunged for her, blade poised for the killing blow.
“Come on… block him,” Alex muttered under his breath, tension in his jaw.
“Do you think she’s good enough?” Jirjin asked, arms folded as he watched the fight unfold.
Rhaine scrambled to her feet just in time, her sword clashing with Douglas’s once again.
Alex smirked. “Call her a wench and I’ll put money against you,” he said with a low chuckle.
From the wagon nearby, Melissa and Orion watched closely.
“She’s not going to make it!” Melissa whispered, panic creeping into her voice. She fumbled for her Tarot cards, preparing to summon them—but Orion placed a hand on her leg, weak but firm.
“Don’t,” he said, breath ragged. “This has to be Rhaine’s victory. Hers… and hers alone. Everyone needs to see that she deserves their respect. If you interfere… everything we’ve worked for will be undone.”
Melissa hesitated, then slowly lowered the cards and tucked them away. She sank down beside him, worry etched on her face.
“I hope you’re right,” she said softly, “for all our sakes.”
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Douglas screamed in pain as Rhaine sidestepped another one of his attacks and drove a swift kick into the side of his knee. It buckled under the force, dropping him into a vulnerable crouch. He barely managed to raise his sword in time to deflect Rhaine’s next strike, struggling to regain his footing. But as soon as he stood, she struck the same knee again. With another howl of pain, Douglas collapsed.
Defeated, trembling, and humiliated, he dropped his sword. “I yield,” he gasped, shame dripping from every word.
The crowd responded with a mixture of cheers and murmurs. Even Dareth, who had just lost five coins, didn’t seem too disappointed—after all, the spectacle had been well worth the price.
But Rhaine wasn’t done. The fury of battle still surged in her veins. She ignored Douglas’s surrender and raised her blade for the killing blow—only for her sword to be blocked by another. Alex’s.
“You’ve already won,” he said calmly. “Don’t stoop to his level.”
Rhaine stood there, chest heaving, the rage clawing at her throat. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to end Douglas’s life. But, once again, Alex was right. Slowly, she lowered her weapon, and instead let out a guttural scream of rage right into Douglas’s face.
“Arrest him!” she barked.
She turned to walk away.
But Douglas wasn’t finished.
With a snarl, he reached into his robes and pulled out a hidden dagger. He lunged at Rhaine from behind—only for a flash of steel to intercept him. His scream was cut short as his hand hit the ground, severed cleanly.
Jirjin stood behind him, sword in hand.
Without a word, he bent down, picked up the bloody hand, and smirked. “I’ll keep this,” he said. “To wipe myself with.”
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