Chapter 335: Cleansed From The Sin Of Sodom
The next morning, the caravan resumed its journey, winding steadily along the narrow path that clung to the lower slopes of the Alta-Sierra mountain range. Far ahead, shrouded in pale mist, the jagged silhouette of Mount Hainai loomed on the horizon—now less than a day’s ride away.
General Odin rode near the center of the procession, his gaze scanning the surrounding ridges and tree lines. Despite the sunlight breaking through the pines, a knot of unease tightened in his chest. This was prime ground for an ambush. Bandits often stalked caravans here—waiting for the protection to peel away before striking at the weaker wagons.
He grunted under his breath, adjusting his grip on the reins. What if they attack after we leave? The thought gnawed at him.
Then, something caught his eye.
Two merchants dismounted from their carriage and preparing to mount their steeds. As one of them swung into the saddle, something about the man’s posture stopped Odin cold. The way he held the reins, the confident stillness, the unmistakable authority in the tilt of his head—it struck a chord.
He narrowed his eyes.
"That brat," he muttered.
Without another word, Odin spurred his horse forward. Hooves thundered against the rocky path as he galloped toward the rider. His horse skidded slightly as it halted beside the masked figure, who turned his head with practiced calm.
"Can we talk?" Odin asked, not bothering to mask the edge in his voice.
The masked man gave a small nod. Odin wheeled his horse around and led them both to the front of the line, out of earshot of the others. Once there, he didn’t wait.
"I know it’s you, Prince Alaric. Why are you here? Why wear a mask? What are you pretending to be?"