Aristellus stood still for a moment, his gaze locked on the peaceful town below, bathed in the last rays of the setting sun. The golden light seemed to linger on the rooftops, unaware of the looming storm that was about to descend. His expression remained unreadable, lost his thoughts and something softer—regret, perhaps. Behind him, the raider stood, her hands nervously fidgeting at her sides, torn between fear and guilt. Her pale face mirrored the storm of emotions swirling inside her as she stole a glance at the mercenaries now turning their attention toward Aristellus, unaware of the fate that awaited them.
"I'm sorry for what I have to do next," Aristellus said quietly, his voice calm but carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air. He gripped the reins of his horse, his fingers brushing the worn leather as if seeking some kind of anchor. "It's for the best—not just for the people in that town, but for you too. For your family."