Page 109 of Daughter of the Serpent

He flinched, his balance faltering just enough.

Seizing the moment, she tried to pull free - but he was faster.

His counter strike came swift and ruthless. The force of it sent her sprawling forward, her knees scraping against the rough earth as she hit the ground with a jarring thud.

“Too bad, little bird.” Bjorn laughed. “Just be grateful I broke you now before the gods could.”

Bjorns blade came down swiftly, his aim true - and her eyes widened. She could feel the blade coming closer and closer, her skin prickling. She needed to move.Now. Yet, she had barely the time to comprehend fear as it barreled down towards her. The cold glint ofsteel caught her eye, and for a brief, surreal moment, she thought she was dreaming.

This was it then.

She let out a last breath, closing her eyes.

At least she tried.

“Stand down, Bjorn.” Haldor's voice was cold, authoritative.

Sylvie's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing in disbelief. Haldor's blade had intercepted Bjorn’s ax, stopping it just inches from her throat.

Bjorn snarled. “You stand in the way of my kill?” His gaze burned into Haldor, fire dancing behind his eyes.

“She is not yours to claim,” Haldor said, his blade unwavering. “Withdraw your ax.”

Bjorn’s nostrils flared, his expression darkening. “This is madness!” His eyes flicked to Rederick and the elders, seeking their support. “You cannot stand in my way. She killed my brother, I demand justice!”

Rederick’s gaze fixed on Haldor, cold and calculating. “You cannot interfere. It’s Bjorn’s right as the victor to claim his prize - her fate is his to decide. That is our way.”

A muscle in Haldor’s jaw ticked, but his voice remained calm as steel. “Then I volunteer to take her place.”

Sylvie’s heart clenched, and before she could stop herself, her voice broke through the silence.

“No! This isn’t your fight!”

Haldor didn’t look her way, his gaze fixed on Bjorn and the elders, his stance resolute. He stood there, a fortress, unmoved by her plea.

Elder Farga pushed to his feet, rage carving deep lines across his face. “Another fool, ensnared by the serpent’s spawn!” His voice carried like a blade through the crowd, sparking a wave of muttered disbelief.

Sylvie tensed, the whispers needling under her skin.

Rederick’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp and probing. “You would accept her punishment, her fate?” he asked, a cruel curiosity lacing his words. “For what reason, Haldor?”

Haldor’s voice was unwavering. “Because she deserves a fair chance in the trials,” he said, his tone quiet but fierce. “She deserves to fight.”

Sylvie inhaled sharply, her eyes darting to him. Haldor, of all people, standing with her about the trials? She barely knew what to make of it.

Bjorn’s mouth twisted into a sneer, his disdain simmering just beneath the surface.

“A man of compassion!” Rederick’s voice rang out. “A rarity, indeed.”

Haldor’s expression darkened, jaw tightening. Compassion was hardly a Mardovian warrior’s pride, and Sylvie saw the weight of the risk he’d just taken. To vouch for her - publicly - struck at the heart of his reputation, the very foundation of his standing.

Farga cleared his throat, his voice dripping with contempt. “You would take the place of one who consorts with shadows? A likely servant of darkness?”

Haldor’s gaze didn’t falter. “She is a fellow servant of the light,” he said, each word quiet but fierce. “Are we not taught to protect our own?”

The crowd stilled, a ripple of disbelief hanging in the air. Sylvie’s pulse quickened, her breath catching. What he was doing was the boldest risk anyone had taken for her. But for Haldor, a warrior respected and beloved, to tie himself to her fate… it could shatter everything he’d built.

“That is honorable indeed, even if your compassions aremisplaced.” Farga nodded, in an approval that clearly didn’t apply to her.