Meanwhile, on the other side of Snow Eagle City, deep in a street that had long since been overrun, Count Firth was already on his knees amid rubble and blood.
Sparks had burned holes through his silk robe, and the magic crystal rings covering his hands had fallen off and vanished during his flight.
All around him lay the bodies of Knights who had fought to the death trying to escort him out of Snow Eagle City.
"I, I am a count of the Firth Family!" Firth wailed incoherently, his cheek pressed against the cold paving stones like a dead dog.
He tried to crawl forward, but a Snow Oath warrior planted a boot hard on his back, crushing a shrill howl of pain out of him.
"Spare me, my lord... I have money, mineral veins, castles... I can give you everything. Please don't kill me..." he begged.
The warrior standing on him laughed. "If we kill you, won't all of that be ours anyway?"
Firth panicked at once. "I'll be your slave for life! I'll work like an ox, like a horse... I can also, also serve as bait to lure in other nobles from the Northern Frontier!"
Just then, Barnes strolled over from a distance, a gray-white cloak draped over his shoulders and enemy blood spattered across his face, looking as relaxed as a beast returning from a hunt.
He looked down at the figure sprawled on the ground, wailing, and raised an eyebrow. "You're Count Firth?"
Firth lifted his head, tears and snot streaming together, his face distorted by sobbing. "Yes! Yes, my lord! Please show mercy and spare my life.
"I'll swear loyalty to you. No, no, no, I'll be your dog from now on! Just let me live! I'll do anything you say!"
"Enough."
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