Silence reigned on the village of Korn. The events that led to Rall's sacrifice played in the villagers' minds on repeat - shame and guilt were eating them from the inside, so they tried to focus on working harder than usual. Even Bellar had stayed silent - the sound of his hammer striking the anvil felt quiet by his standards.

Meanwhile, Dorothy had remained closed in her home to take care of little Sarah. People heard her cry every night, so one day, they had gone to knock on her door to apologize. Without even listening to their words, she had screamed at them to never again come near her daughter. They hadn't tried talking to her ever since, which increased their sense of guilt even more.

It was the morning of the eleventh day since the last appearance of the Fog, that a one-armed bald man approached the gates of the village. It had taken Thork almost a month to return to the Korn - the rough winter blocked many countryside paths with snow, which had made him lose more than a week. Midway he had been forced to take shelter by the sudden Fog assault, which lasted almost three days. Even then, the lantern-like object that dangled from his horse was proof of his success. As he got closer to the village, he noticed with relief that the walls did not have signs of unnatural decay, that the houses were not in ruins. He thanked the gods for sparing his village. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was strange.

He expected news of his return to elicit joy in his people's hearts or even just relief.

So why was it that the huntsmen that guarded the gates avoided his gaze? Why was it that the people in the village lowered their heads in grief and sorrow? For a moment, he got scared, and his mind went raced through many different possibilities. 'My child! Something must have happened!' He figured

He jumped down the horse and dashed uphill to his home. With the ease of a master, he channeled enormous amounts of internal energy in his legs and reached his door in less than two seconds, slamming it open as he arrived.

"DORI! DORI, ARE YOU THERE?" He shouted so loudly that every villager heard his voice.

"T-Thork!" She said, practically running down the stairs with little Sarah in her arms. "You are back! You are finally back!"

They hugged like they had been kept away for more than ten years, and she instantly started crying. Thork looked at the baby for a moment and recognized his brown eyes and a tinier version of Dorothy's nose. He wanted to hold his daughter in his arm for the first time, but then his wife's stifled cry called him back to reality.

"I'm sorry, Thork... Rall... I could not... do anything..." She said in between her sobbing.

He looked around. Indeed, he had expected Rall to come out to greet him, but it seemed he wasn't home.

"Honey, where is Rall?"

"I-I'm sorry... he did it to protect us... I could not stop him..."

Creases of concern appeared on Thork's forehead, his one eye focused on his wife's pain, taking it all in. "Ok, calm down," he told her while guiding her to a chair, "tell me what happened from the start."

Ten minutes passed, the Thork got out of his house and headed to his horse. The villagers knew what Dorothy had told him, so they avoided his gaze even more. But this time, he wasn't looking at them.

He arrived at his horse, unsheathed the longsword from the saddle, then headed towards the smithy. His body language told everyone to stand down and move out of his way while Thork's internal energy boiled in his body, enhancing his menacing aura even more.

He kicked open the door to the forge, startling Bellar, who was in the process of making a new iron plow for one of the farmers.

"T-Thork. Y-You've finally come back!" He faked a smile.

But Thork did not stop. Once he was close enough, he violently swung his blade and cleanly beheaded the blacksmith.

He then took the head by the hair and got out.

The people of Korn watched in horror as he threw the blacksmith's head towards the middle of the village, near the stand he had used so many times to hold the gatherings.

Then his eye rose and slowly turned to look at every single one of those that, for the longest time, he had regarded as his people.

"You spineless pieces of shit!" He shouted. "Only the gods know how much I would want to cut the head of every single one of you filthy bastards, but I do not care to waste any more time with you than I already have! A CHILD! A fucking eight-year-old CHILD has more courage than any single one of you! Theodore has saved your worthless asses so many times that I have lost count. And what do you do? You send his son to die?!? I fought for you with everything I have, even when I did not want to be your chief! And what do you do? You threaten my wife and my newborn daughter!? I considered you more than friends - I saw you as my family! Now I wish you all died a horrible death." He gave them a long pause to let his words sink in before heading to his horse and unclasping the portable Lighthouse and a small sack of the fuel it needed to work. He threw it in a nearby pile of snow before saying one last thing. "I officially resign from my office. Find yourself a new chief."

Those were the last words they ever heard from Thork Haddok. The following morning, he had taken his wife and daughter and once again headed towards Telessia, forever abandoning their house and their village. They did not spare a glance for Bellar's head, his eyes slowly getting devoured by the ravens in front of his wife and sons.