Chapter 108: A solution
The shore returned silent, but not as it was before.
"Bring the prisoner."
The command was quiet and absolute, and the raven man inclined his head once. "As you wish."
He turned without another word, his form dissolving before he even took a second step, collapsing into shadow, folding inward until nothing remained.
The silence stretched after his absence, but not for long when he returned almost immediately, though this time, he wasn’t alone.
The prisoner was dragged forward with little ceremony, his steps unsteady as he was forced across the sand. Shackles bound his wrists, iron biting into skin that had already been worn raw. A dark cloth had been tied harshly across his mouth, though it did little to hide the sharp lines of his face.
He was... striking even like that. Tall, broad-shouldered, his frame built with the kind of strength that did not come from comfort but from discipline. His white frock, though dirtied and torn, still carried the faint structure of something noble—paired with dark trousers that marked him as more than a common man.
Pain had carved itself into his features, but it had not diminished him. If anything, it sharpened the edge of what he was. His eyes—clear, defiant—lifted the moment he was forced forward. They burned, but faltered the moment it ran across the motionless bodies on the shore.
He was shoved hard.
His knees hit the sand first, then his hands, the impact forcing a sharp grunt from his chest as he caught himself just barely. The chains clinked harshly with the motion.
He inhaled sharply through his nose, steadying himself. Then he looked up, straight at the one who dared to push him, but the cloth was ripped from his mouth.
The raven man stepped back, arms folding loosely as though this was nothing more than mild entertainment.
The prisoner stayed where he was for a moment, breathing hard through the pain in his ribs. Sand clung to his hands as he slowly straightened, chains dragging heavily with the movement.
His eyes lifted again, away from the shore and towards the figure standing beyond it all. For a long second, neither of them spoke.
Then the prisoner laughed once. It came out dry, tired, and humorless before he coughed. There was something off about being too deep and strained, like something inside him resisted the act of breathing itself.
"So," he said hoarsely, rolling his sore jaw slightly after the cloth had been torn away, "you finally decided to see me. I’ve been expecting you,"
The creature regarded him silently.
The prisoner’s gaze flickered briefly toward the endless bodies lining the shore before returning to him again. "A bit dramatic, don’t you think?"
The raven servant snorted quietly from where he stood.
The creature ignored both reactions. "You’ve seen armies before,"
"Yes," The prisoner glanced back toward the sea, and muttered distantly, "Just never dead ones."
Another silence settled.
The prisoner slowly pushed himself fully upright despite the chains weighing his wrists down. Pain crossed his face for only a second before disappearing behind something steadier.
"You dragged me all the way here for this?" he asked. "Or is this where you finally kill me?"
"You think too highly of your importance,"
The prisoner gave a faint scoff. "Funny. Your servant practically ripped my shoulder out dragging me here."
"I could still do that," the raven man offered casually.
The prisoner looked toward him flatly. "You say strange things for someone shaped like a bird."
The raven servant blinked once, and for the first time, he looked entirely offended. "That was one time, bastard."
"It was a very memorable time," Arthur replied, then coughed immediately. He swallowed, throat working as he forced himself to continue. "I-I know you’re building an army," he rasped, another cough breaking through his words. "And I know how it spreads,"
There was a small skewed silence that settled after he spoke. The creature’s gaze remained fully on him, and that alone was enough to make the air feel heavier.
Arthur swallowed again, but he didn’t look away. "You’re forcing it," he continued. "Accelerating the process, but it’s unstable. The hosts break down. They don’t last."
A faint shift in the raven-eyed man’s posture that indicated interest despite himself. "And you think we don’t know that, bastard wolf?"
"I think you don’t know how to fix it," Arthur shot back. "You cannot leave them starving. If they venture in the open, they’ll attract the gods’ scrutiny," Something about the way he said it, one would notice the irritation in them. "You’re left with a choice but to keep them as long as possible. But it would only turn them unstable,"
That landed as a pause followed—longer this time. Finally, the creature stepped forward. Just one step but it was enough.
The prisoner felt the shift in pressure, the weight of something far beyond him.
"What do you know that I do not?" He asked quietly. The question wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be.
Arthur hesitated just for a second before speaking, "There’s a way to stabilize them," he said. "To make the vessels... hold. Walkers, even," he said. "I know about them and their relationship with the gods. The knowledge is quite fragile now, and sooner or later, other mortals will begin to uncover it too," he rasped at the end.
Another silence followed that.
The sea continued moving behind them in slow black waves while the army stood scattered across the shore like corpses waiting for permission to breathe.
The creature regarded Arthur carefully now when he said, "You speak boldly for a dying werewolf."
Arthur let out a rough breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "I’d be more afraid if I thought you planned to let me live."
"You assume too much,"
Arthur released a weak breath. "And you pretend too much."
The raven servant sighed dramatically. "I liked him better gagged."
Arthur ignored him completely.
His chest rose unevenly beneath the torn white fabric as another cough fought its way out of him. This one bent him slightly forward before he forced himself upright again, breathing through the pain with visible effort.
The creature noticed. "So the process has already begun,"
Arthur’s jaw tightened, and that became an obvious answer.
The raven servant’s expression shifted faintly as his eyes moved across the prisoner more carefully this time. "You infected yourself?"
Arthur gave him a look. "I’m not suicidal,"
He shrugged. "That remains debatable."
Arthur coughed again before continuing. "I studied it long before any of this corruption started spreading," His breathing steadied slightly. "The vessels fail because they resist the transition. The body rejects what’s trying to root itself inside,"
"And you know how to stop that."
"Yes."
The creature tilted his head slightly. "Then why are you dying?"
Arthur went quiet. For the first time since arriving, his eyes dropped briefly toward the sand beneath him. When he finally spoke again, his voice came lower. "B-Because I ran out of time." He said, the words dropping heavily between them. Even the raven servant stopped speaking after that.
Farther along the shoreline, several of the hollow figures twitched faintly as another vibration rolled beneath the sea.
Arthur noticed them immediately. "They’re getting worse."
"They’re awakening," the creature corrected.
"No," Arthur shook his head weakly. "You think this is awakening because you’ve never seen the end of it."
That seemed to interest the creature more than anything else Arthur had said.
The air around them grew quieter somehow when he uttered, "What end?"
Arthur swallowed slowly before answering. "At first they obey," His eyes drifted toward the dead lining the shore. "Then they hunger. Then they spread. Then eventually..." He paused briefly. "They stop hearing commands altogether."
The raven servant’s amusement faded completely. "That has never happened,"
Arthur looked at him directly. "Not yet."