CHAPTER 6 - Humans Are Born Neutral, Shaped by Choices

CHAPTER 6 - Humans Are Born Neutral, Shaped by Choices
The old stranger knelt down after consoling the young stranger. Without showing any emotion, he took the bow, the small blade, and the arrow hanging from the dead soldier's belt. His movements were so professional that the young man understood - this wasn't his first time.
The young stranger was still on the ground. But he wasn't crying anymore. Another voice was speaking inside him. A voice trying to silence his conscience:
"There's no going back. My hands are dirty now. Why should I sacrifice myself for others? Is their life worth more than mine? They had to die so I could live. They had to..."
Consoling himself with those words, the young man slowly started to pull himself together. The trembling had stopped. The tears in his eyes had dried. Something cold had replaced them.
He wasn't crying anymore.
Now all they had to do was take the east side completely without being caught by the watchmen on the west side.
Meanwhile, the dark-haired watchman on the east tower was looking down. His blond friend still hadn't come back. He had said "I'm going to get some water" two hours ago.
He couldn't leave his post. It was forbidden. But he felt uneasy.
"Where the hell are you, idiot..." he thought to himself, with a hint of worry.
Even though they constantly mocked each other, deep down they cared for each other. In fact, the blond soldier had even lent money to his dark-haired friend once.
He didn't know. The friend he called "idiot" was lying motionless at the feet of the two strangers. And those two strangers were now walking toward his tower.
At that moment, their boss had positioned his men in key parts of the forest. They were getting ready to light fires on signal. Surrounded by pine trees, two bandits were talking among themselves. One was black-haired, around 180-185 cm, bearded, 20-25 years old. The other was starting to get some white in his hair, around 165-170 cm, 35-40 years old.
The young bandit spoke: "Do you think they'll fall for our trick?"
The old bandit held a torch in his hand: "If they don't, we might die. If they do, victory is ours without a fight."

At that moment, the old stranger had already reached the east tower. The young stranger was nowhere to be seen.

The old stranger called out to the dark-haired guard, his voice out of breath:

"Please, help, soldier! He just collapsed! Please, help!"

*[END OF CHAPTER]*
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