The fury of battle still coursing through his veins, Arran rushed through the valley, chasing the remaining raiders with an insatiable thirst for blood . Where he found them, they died, and each death further fed his rage .
The bloodlust grew stronger with every kill, and the stronger it grew, the more eagerly he killed . Even with an army of a hundred thousand before him, he would have attacked without hesitation .
Yet here, the enemy numbers were limited . And with each enemy he killed, it took him longer to find the next one . The search frustrated him, and he ran faster, killed more quickly, fearful of losing even a single one of his prey .
When he reached the mouth of the valley, he could see tracks leading in all directions . Impatient to continue the massacre, he chose one at random, then rushed forward with the boundless strength that surged through his body .
He caught the man who left the tracks within moments, then cut him down in seconds . When he heard muffled voices in the distance, he immediately set off again, blood-soaked blade already raised in anticipation of the next kill .
The enemy force was long since broken and the woods were filled with the fleeing remnants . Arran bounded between them with hurried steps, chasing down the enemy fighters even as they retreated .
Some fought back, while others fled . It mattered not . Wherever he found them, they fell, their deaths further adding to his strength and bloodlust .
For hours, he rampaged through the woods, the hunt consuming his mind until he lost all sense of time or place .
But when evening fell, there were no more raiders to be found . They had fled in all directions as he chased them through the woods, and now, none could still be seen or heard .
The lack of enemies infuriated him, and he frantically continued his search, looking for someone — anyone — to fight . It was no use . If any of the raiders still lived they were long gone, and within the dense woods, finding them was a near-impossible task .
Still, he did not let up . Although starved of fuel, his rage was nowhere near extinguished, and he scoured the woods relentlessly .
As the night grew darker, however, his bloodlust finally began to weaken . And now, he could feel that there was something that mattered other than killing — something important, a reason to kill .
He stopped in his tracks, deep within the forest .
For a time, he stood motionless, trying to gather his thoughts and suppress the yearning for more blood and slaughter . As he did, he felt something at the corner of his consciousness, as if a thought was trying to break through .
Then, with a start, he remembered it — the battle, Snowcloud, Stoneheart . The very reason he had fought in the first place .
It was as if a veil was suddenly lifted from his mind . Though the bloodlust was still there, reason now forcefully subdued it, seizing back the control it had lost during the battle .
Now, he remembered his plan to defeat the raiders, and the bloody battle that followed .
He recalled being wounded in the battle, but when he checked, he found no injuries on his body . And even after what must have been hours of battle, he felt no exhaustion — if anything, he was stronger than before .
But then, he felt a surge of panic when he realized that in his rage, he had left the battleground behind . Taken with bloodlust, he had rushed into the woods in search of more enemies, abandoning both the valley and his allies .
He set off at once, back to the valley, desperately hoping that his absence had not caused a disaster . Although he had slain hundreds of raiders, his memories of the battle were hazy, and he did not know how many more there had been .
Finding his way back to the valley was difficult, but the bodies that littered the forest floor formed a rough trail that he followed using his Shadowsight .
Even so, it took him several hours before he neared the valley again . It seemed that in his rage, he had ventured many miles into the forest, pursuing the raiders long after they fled the battle .
When he finally arrived at the mouth of the valley, the first light of dawn was already starting to appear on the horizon .
Here, the aftermath of the battle was much clearer than in the forest . Dozens of bodies were scattered across the ground, and even many of the trees were torn and broken .
Yet amid the devastation, a single lone figure stood . Short and thin, unmoving, a calm expression on her pale face . It was Snowcloud .
When she saw him, her eyes went wide instantly, and she rushed over to him at once .
"You're still alive," she said when she reached him, relief in her voice . After giving him an examining look, she added, "And unharmed, from the looks of it . "
Arran nodded in response . "I'm fine . But what happened here? Did you suffer any losses?"
Snowcloud shook her head . "Only a few dozen ever made it to the clearing . Stoneheart suffered some injuries, but he'll recover in a few days . But…" She hesitated before continuing, giving Arran a troubled look . "He said that when you saved him, he didn't know whether you were there to rescue him or kill him . "
"I don't think I knew, either," Arran replied . "Something came over me during the battle, an uncontrollable rage . When I fought the raiders, it was like my mind was taken over by bloodlust, and all I could do was slaughter as many of them as I could find . "
"You killed them," Snowcloud said, her eyes briefly resting on the bodies around them . "But you saved us . "
Arran gave her a short nod, though, in truth, he didn't need the reassurance .
The death of the raiders didn't bother him, nor the manner in which they died . The raiding party had come to kill, and that they had fallen so easily was something he felt no guilt about . If anything, the easier they fell, the better it was .
Rather, what troubled him was how he had lost control of himself .
The bloodlust had completely enveloped his mind, leaving him barely able to even distinguish friend from enemy . And not just that — hazy though his memories of the battle were, he knew that in his rage, he was unable to recognize threats or traps, much less avoid them .
Had the raiders been prepared, they could have easily goaded him like a wild bull, leading him into a trap and then skewering him with a barrage of arrows .
While he would have welcomed the power itself, the loss of control was too large a price to pay . Against a clearheaded enemy, the strength it brought could easily be turned into a fatal weakness .
Only if he found a way to command it would it be a boon rather than a burden . And without even knowing what it was, there was no way for him to do that .
"There's something I need to tell you about," Arran said after a moment . "Something that happened at the deserters' fortress . "
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