Klaus forced himself forward.
Each step dragged.
Heavier than the last.
Egor lay where Lilith knelt beside him.
The gray veins had spread further.
Past the elbow.
Crawling upward.
Too fast.
Klaus pressed a hand to his forehead—
and jerked it back instantly.
Burning.
Not warm.
Burning.
Egor's breathing—
thin.
Uneven.
Barely there.
"Hey," Klaus snapped, not bothering to choose a target. "Which one of you is a healer?"
A man stepped forward.
Black cloak.
Light armor beneath.
A helmet hidden under the hood.
Only now did Klaus really look at them.
No uniforms.
No crests.
No names.
At first glance—
mercenaries.
But no.
Too clean.
Too precise.
They moved like one body.
This wasn't a random band.
This was trained.
Disciplined.
Klaus narrowed his eyes.
"Have we met?" he asked.
The man inclined his head slightly.
"I believe, Your Majesty, your companion should come first. How long has he been like this?"
"Are you a healer?"
"Not exactly."
A pause.
"But I know poison when I see it."
Klaus's expression darkened instantly.
"How long?" the man repeated.
"He collapsed shortly before you arrived."
"And the markings?"
"They've nearly doubled."
"I see."
The man reached into his cloak.
Pulled out a small vial.
Glass.
Clear.
Colorless liquid inside.
"Give him this."
Klaus didn't move.
"What is it?"
"Not an antidote."
That alone made Klaus's grip tighten.
"It will stop him."
A pause.
"Slow everything down. His heart. His blood. The poison."
"For how long?"
"Several hours."
Klaus's eyes sharpened.
"And then?"
The man didn't hesitate.
"He dies."
Silence.
"…Unless we reach our camp."
Klaus stepped closer.
Slow.
Controlled.
"Help him here."
"I can't."
A beat.
"Our best healer is there. Sending for him will take too long."
Another pause.
"That delay will kill him."
Silence stretched.
Heavy.
"Stop calling me that," Klaus said sharply. "I'm not your king."
The man lowered his head slightly.
"For now… you are."
"Klaus," he snapped. "Use my name."
"…As you wish."
Klaus didn't argue further.
Time was already slipping.
He tilted Egor's head back.
Forced his jaw open.
Poured the liquid in.
A weak swallow.
Barely a reflex.
Then—
Frost.
It spread instantly.
Across his lips.
His skin.
His throat.
Crawling outward.
His breath—
stopped.
His chest froze mid-motion.
Locked.
Still.
Too still.
Klaus froze.
"…You killed him."
The words came out flat.
Empty.
Then—
he moved.
Fast.
Grabbed the man by the collar.
"You killed him."
"No—!"
Hands raised.
"It's temporary! I told you—he'll recover—"
"If he doesn't—"
Klaus leaned closer.
Voice dropping to something cold.
Something dangerous.
"I will burn your entire camp."
A pause.
"Slowly."
Another.
"And then I'll take you apart piece by piece."
The man didn't flinch.
"You have my word."
Klaus held his gaze.
Long enough to mean something.
Then let go.
"Move."
—
The camp lay hours away.
Hidden beneath a massive cliff—
as if the earth itself had been torn open and left hanging above them.
When they arrived—
Klaus saw barely fifteen people.
Too few.
Not an army.
Not even close.
Some gathered firewood.
Others cut meat.
A few women sat under a lone tree, stitching thick cloaks—
black.
Always black.
Klaus dismounted.
Lifted Egor himself.
Didn't let anyone touch him.
Didn't trust them that much.
The cloth wrapped around the frozen body barely held the cold back.
It still seeped through.
Into his hands.
Into his bones.
Lilith approached carefully.
Smaller now.
Quieter.
Less certain.
Klaus didn't spare her more than a glance.
"Your Majesty, this way," one of the soldiers said.
They moved toward the cliff.
A hidden entrance.
Torches burning low.
Klaus paused.
Measured the opening.
The ceiling.
The walls.
If it collapsed—
would he have time?
Would it matter?
No.
It wouldn't.
"Stay outside," he said without looking at Lilith.
"No!"
Too fast.
Too loud.
Heads turned.
Klaus looked at her.
She flinched immediately.
"Please," she said, voice shaking. "Don't leave me."
A breath.
"I'll be useful."
Fear.
Raw.
Unhidden.
She wasn't afraid of them.
She was afraid of being left again.
Klaus exhaled sharply.
"…Fine."
—
They entered.
The cave opened wide.
Too wide.
Not natural.
Stone walls.
Reinforced.
High ceilings.
A corridor stretching deep into the mountain.
Not a cave.
A fortress.
Hidden.
—
They entered a long chamber.
Beds lined both sides.
Too many.
Occupied.
Wounded.
Unconscious.
Breathing.
Barely.
An infirmary.
"Here," a soldier said.
Klaus lowered Egor onto one of the beds.
His hands had gone numb.
He barely felt them anymore.
A curtain shifted.
A man stepped out.
Tall.
Thin.
A scar across his face—
No.
Not a scar.
A removed crest.
Cut out.
Deliberately.
One eye covered.
"Your Majesty," he said. "I am Brod."
"What family?" Klaus asked.
"I don't have one."
A pause.
"Then fix him."
Brod inclined his head.
"I will do everything I can."
"No," Klaus said quietly.
Something in his tone shifted.
Hardened.
"You will do more than that."
Brod didn't argue.
Didn't question.
He turned to Egor.
And began.
—
Time stretched.
Too slow.
Too quiet.
Klaus didn't move.
Didn't sit.
Didn't blink.
He watched everything.
Every movement.
Every breath.
Didn't trust him.
Didn't trust any of them.
But he needed them.
That was worse.
Behind him—
Lilith's stomach growled.
Loud.
In the silence.
Klaus glanced back.
She flushed.
Looked down.
"…Fine," he said.
Short.
Sharp.
He turned away.
But only because he had to.
Because if he didn't—
he wouldn't leave.
Wouldn't move.
Wouldn't breathe.
And Egor would die anyway.
And that—
he would not allow.