Karahan's death shook all of Hot Fortress. Everyone in the region was talking about it.
The name White Flame, which Berin had tried to keep hidden, had slowly begun to spread among the people—though not too widely yet.
In response, Berin informed his soldiers in advance of what he knew about White Flame and ordered them to warn anyone who spoke about him that this was classified information.
That morning, Berin could not stay still in the fortress hall.
He paced back and forth in the middle of the hall, muttering and venting all of his anger.
All the while, Kartz watched his lord with worry.
Lord Berin: That bastard!! That bastard!! AAAAAH! I'm going insane, to hell with your "gift"!
Kartz: Please calm yourself, my lord. Wasn't your main goal to bring down Karahan Agha anyway? In a way, isn't this… good?
Lord Berin: It's not good! It's terrible! You think I couldn't have killed him if I'd wanted to? That's not the point.Hot Fortress is a border region—and not just any border. It is the gateway to the Southern Region of the Sin Continent. Every trade route coming into the South from outside passes through Hot Fortress.Tell me, why do you think the Shadows and the Black Bosses are so active in the South and use it as their base? Because that son of a bitch Karahan was smuggling them through the Southern Gate.
Lord Berin: What do you think will happen now that he's dead and those precautions are gone? Do you understand the chaos that's coming? Every Black Boss's business has just been disrupted. When they learn of this, you think they'll just give up the money they were going to make?
Lord Berin: There will be chaos in Hot Fortress—countless innocent people could die. That's why I devoted myself to learning the entire underground network that passes through Hot Fortress. I made carefully prepared plans to handle it all. And what did that fucking White Flame do? He went and cut off that mutt Karahan's head.
Lord Berin: You think I couldn't have done it? You think I couldn't have done it, you SON OF A—
Just as he was about to shout again, a messenger knocked and entered.
Lord Berin: What is it?!
Messenger: My lord, you ordered me to keep watch on Raman. I am here to deliver my report.
Lord Berin: Go on.
Messenger: Raman has found the house where White Flame is staying. It's a rundown place. From what I gathered, he had all the shabby or secret places he used to take his women checked, and that's how he found it. Then he sent five of his best men there—but White Flame sent their severed heads back in a box. Now Raman is preparing to storm the place with all of his men.
Lord Berin: And now we have this damned idiot. If that fool manages to kill White Flame, our already bad situation will turn into complete chaos, and Karahan Agha's supporters will rally behind Raman. That braindead idiot will make everything even worse. That fucking White Flame is trying to turn us against each other.
Kartz: What will we do, my lord?
Lord Berin: We have no choice. We have to stop Raman. Have the soldiers prepared—we're going to convince him to hand White Flame over to us.
Kartz: And if he refuses?
Lord Berin: Then we'll have no choice but to attack Raman.
Evening was approaching. Raman's roughly thirty men had already surrounded the house where White Flame was staying.
The house was in ruins. White Flame sat on the roof, grinning as he waited.
The very name White Flame already unsettled some of the men—and seeing him so relaxed against such a number only made Raman's men even more nervous.
Eventually, Raman and Evort stepped forward. Seeing them, the men calmed a little and began to hype themselves up.
Evort raised his voice as much as he could.
Evort: So you didn't run. Guess you've got some balls—but unfortunately, today you'll pay with your life for what you've done.
Evort looked at White Flame. White Flame said nothing. He only kept watching with that nasty smile on his face.
Evort: What I'll say next are Raman's words. We advise you to surrender. If you do, your death will be quick and painless. If you refuse, then you will suffer—
Evort's voice cut off in an instant.When Raman looked at him, he saw a small dagger lodged in the center of Evort's forehead.Evort's sudden death silenced everyone.
All at once, the area went quiet.
White Flame was still on the roof. He slowly stood up, that same filthy, mocking smile on his face.
White Flame (shouting in a mocking tone): Hey, why was that mutt talking in your place?
His mocking smile twisted into something downright demonic.
White Flame: Oh, right. You can't talk anymore.
White Flame's words echoed over and over in Raman's mind. The humiliation had long passed the point he could endure.
Raman snapped and, with a hand signal, ordered his archers and long-range mages to open fire.
The archers were just about to loose their arrows when a volley from the side struck and disabled several of them.
When Raman turned toward the source of the attack, he saw that it was Lord Berin. Berin had arrived with around fifty soldiers.
Lord Berin: Raman, leave White Flame to us. I'll handle the rest. Do not go any further—this is your final warning.
Even under normal circumstances, Raman was not someone who could be easily persuaded. Now, faced with the man who had cut out his tongue, killed his father, slain his closest ally, and on top of everything openly mocked him, persuasion was impossible—he had even lost his grip on sanity.
Raman ordered his men to attack Lord Berin.
The two groups clashed violently.
Because of the difference in numbers and the superior training of Berin's troops, the battle turned in Lord Berin's favor. In the midst of the fight, Berin glanced toward the roof where White Flame was.White Flame was laughing.
Berin grew so furious at that laugh that, in his mind, he was just about to mutter "You son of a—" when his focus suddenly shattered—a blade pressed against his throat, and strong arms grabbed him from behind.
The one holding him was Raman.
When Lord Berin looked around, he saw that all of Raman's men were dead. Raman tried to speak without a tongue, but no one could understand what he was trying to say.
He took Berin hostage—but no one knew what he wanted in return.
Then, from Raman's right side, a small, fast white stone whizzed through the air and passed straight through his head.
Raman dropped dead to the ground. Berin was no longer a hostage.
Everyone turned toward the direction the attack had come from—and they saw White Flame.
Lord Berin was briefly stunned, but quickly regained his composure.
Lord Berin: Seize that man at once!
White Flame: No need. I surrender.
That same mocking smile was still on his face.