Alaric Blackthorn was on his way to the temple. He had been bound ever since his suicide attempt. Harald and his ten men had beaten him black and blue. Harald spat at him and finally kicked him. "You son of a bitch. You want to put us in this mess just because we can't get rid of one prisoner?"
Another Night's Watch said, "If anything happens to him, we and the Druid will be in big trouble."
Harald shook his head and said, "I don't care about Druid. Someone like him won't punish us, but when we get back, Commander Mormont will treat us like mules and make him suffer."
Alaric lay in a pool of mud. His bones ached all over, and his heart was filled with hatred. Why had the Seven abandoned him and his family? His father was one of the Seven' most devoted followers.
Every nobleman only gives what he is supposed to give, but his father stoops down to offer more support to the Seven. All in vain! His home is gone, his birthright has been stolen, and the Seven have provided nothing.
As Alaric pondered, his hatred for the Druid, the North, and the Seven intensified. As he sank deeper into the swamp of despair and hatred, he heard a voice...
Ah, such exquisite hatred and despair, I can almost smell its fragrance.
Upon hearing the voice, all the Night's Watch drew their swords. Harald shouted, "Who's there? Show yourself!" A pair of ghostly gray eyes emerged from the woods. They looked like filthy shards of ice.
The man's upper body was covered by a black mask, but his pale, sickly skin was clearly visible. His black hair was disheveled, highlighting a face that exuded a subtle yet fierce aura. Harald pointed his sword at the man and said, "Tell me your name and what you have to say!"
The masked man initially ignored Harald. He was tall, with a straight back, an imposing demeanor, and deliberate, slow movements. He was dressed entirely in dark clothing. The masked man began circling Harald and his men, his eyes fixed on Alaric. Harald asked him again...
"Who are you?"
He looked at Harald with a puzzled expression and said, "Don't you think it's idiotic to ask who a masked man is?" He then gave a mocking smile and waved his hand dismissively, saying, "Instead of asking you such a stupid question, answer me. Why did the Druid send this person to the temple?"
Harald looked around, trying to figure out why the man was acting so arrogantly. He glanced towards the treeline but saw nothing. "I'm warning you one last time: tell me your name and what you've done, or we'll attack."
The masked man feigned injury and said, "It's incredibly rude to answer someone's question with such a question." He pointed at Alaric and said angrily, "Hand this man over to me, and kill the rest."
With no one around, Harald and his men looked around anxiously. Two of them attacked the masked man, while the rest remained on high alert.
Suddenly, five figures leaped down from the tree, instantly killing all the Night's Watch. Harald lay on the ground, blood gushing from his neck; he saw that the two men who had attacked the masked men were already dead.
The masked man approached Alaric, his hands dripping with blood, a sword piercing his chest. Alaric stared in terror at the thing walking towards him. It was not human.
Alaric cursed his fate. He would die like everyone else. But then he thought, wouldn't it be better to die now than to suffer and die while being experimented on and manipulated by that wretched Druid?
The masked man crouched beside him and removed his gag. Alaric looked at him with eyes that accepted death, but in those eyes still lingered a deep hatred for Druid. If he didn't exist, Alaric wouldn't be in this predicament.
The masked man smiled and said, "Very charming. You're the first human who didn't cry and beg for mercy." At first, Alaric hesitated, but then decided to speak his mind, "Why? If I beg for mercy, will you let me go?"
He shrugged. "I might..." Alaric chuckled, "Hmph, I won't satisfy you. Go on." He burst into laughter. "Heh heh! I like you. If you answer my question, I'll send you on your way without suffering. Why did the Druid take you to the temple?"
"That beast is experimenting on my father, saying I'll suffer the same fate as him. I don't know anything else, but if I did, I would tell you." The masked man nodded. "It's always very difficult to find out anything about that bastard. None of the people who work for him have spoken out or betrayed him, but the rumors are true. He really is conducting experiments."
One of the white-masked men said, "This might be the reason why Drasil's men are so powerful. Could it be that the Druid are using those experiments to enhance their strength?"
The masked man smiled, raising his hand like a knife. "Thank you, I will send you on your way as promised." Just as he was about to strike, he looked into Alaric's eyes and saw no fear. This was very strange to him, so he asked, "Aren't you afraid of death? Don't you want to live?"
"Hmph, of course I'm scared, of course I want to live, but fear won't help me survive. I'd rather not give you that chance." He shook his head. "As for living, it doesn't matter to me, it won't help. Even if you let me go, the Druid and his men will catch me, and I'll eventually fall into his hands. I'd rather die than be an experiment for that tree-jumping man."
"Haha, I really like you! Your eyes light up when you talk about him." He thought for a moment, "Okay, I've decided you can be of help. We'll take him with us."
He grabbed Alaric by the collarbone and lifted him up. His hand was like a vise; if he gripped any tighter, Alaric felt his bones would shatter. He tossed Alaric like a puppy toward one of the white-masked men, who grabbed him by the back of the neck. They treated him like a pet.
Alaric didn't know if this was a good thing or not. He was captivated by these monsters, but he knew one thing: they weren't friends of the Druid, and that was all he needed to know. As long as his pain and torment helped them harm the Druid and Drasil, he didn't care at all.