Three days later.
A crowd had gathered at the Hawk Company barracks. At its center stood a man in full armor, a greatsword on his back and a pack in his hand.
"Nidhogg, why are you leaving the Hawks?" Rickert, still young and emotional, grabbed at Nidhogg's cloak, his eyes glistening. "Can't you stay?"
"Yeah, Captain, why do you have to go?"
The scouts under his command, who had also come to see him off, couldn't understand why Nidhogg would choose to leave just as the Hawk Company was flourishing.
In their eyes, if he stayed, he would gain more honor and privilege.
Griffith hadn't made Nidhogg's true mission to Doldrey public. The Hawk Company was a gathering of people from all walks of life, and with so many, it was best to keep it secret.
Nidhogg simply patted Rickert and the scouts on the shoulders, one by one. "I'll be back soon," he said, and turned to leave. His mind was made up.
They could see his resolve was absolute. Rickert and the others knew that Nidhogg was leaving today.
He would be back, Nidhogg promised himself. When he had the power to save others, like the Skull Knight had during the Eclipse, he would return and save as many of the Hawks as he could.
To say that after two years of shared battles and camaraderie, he felt nothing for them—that would be a lie.
Even if these people had their flaws, even if they had killed innocents and committed dark deeds in the service of war, they didn't deserve to be betrayed by Griffith and die such a desperate, horrific death.
Nidhogg understood clearly: staying meant dying with them. He could change nothing.
The God Hand were born every 216 years. It was an inevitability. Even the Skull Knight, after a thousand years, had found no true solution.
The three Thousand-Man Commanders had also come to see him off. And Guts.
They knew the true purpose of Nidhogg's journey. They had agreed to Griffith and Nidhogg's plan. After their initial reluctance, they now offered no further advice.
"You bastard..." Corkus started, arms crossed, but couldn't find the words to continue.
If it were Guts leaving, he could have cursed him out with joy. But this was Nidhogg, his usual drinking buddy. He couldn't do it.
The famously stingy Corkus actually pulled out a money pouch and thrust it at Nidhogg. "Take it. It's the money I won from your fight with Guts the other day. Take it before I change my mind!"
Nidhogg laughed, took the pouch, tucked it away, and said a solemn, "Thank you."
"I made you some throwing knives," Judeau said, offering his gift. "Maybe you'll find a use for them as hidden weapons someday. Of course, you should practice your aim first."
Nidhogg accepted the knives and thanked Judeau as well.
Pippin gave Nidhogg a miner's lamp, one that could be clipped to a belt to light the way in darkness.
Casca handed him a map. It sketched out the mountains and rivers of the Kingdom of Midland, including the fortress city of Doldrey, where Midland clashed with the Tudor Empire.
Rickert, eyes still red, gave him a crossbow.
Nidhogg accepted each gift in turn, thanking them one by one.
Finally, there was Guts.
He had been leaning against a broken wall, watching the farewells. Now he pushed himself upright, dusted himself off, and said in his usual impatient tone:
"Well, this is a real pain in the ass..."
"Guts!" Casca put her hands on her hips, glaring at him in disbelief. Was this all he had to say to Nidhogg?
"It's not like we'll never see each other again," Guts said, unconcerned. He walked over to Nidhogg and gave him a brief look. "I'm not giving you anything. I didn't prepare anything."
"I didn't expect you to," Nidhogg replied. He knew Guts well.
Guts grunted, then walked past Nidhogg. He stopped just behind him and said quietly, "Don't think that because you won once, you're better. Next time, I'll win."
Without waiting for a response, he pushed past Casca, Judeau, and the others who were standing in his way and walked off without looking back.
He couldn't stand being in such a sad atmosphere.
Nidhogg smiled, said his final goodbyes, and walked away from the Hawk Company barracks on foot.
He looked back as he crested a small hill. Rickert was still waving. The others stood watching.
The Hawk Company barracks were in the outer city. Nidhogg looked up and saw a figure with silver hair standing on the inner city walls.
Griffith stood high above, his gaze fixed on Nidhogg's retreating form until it disappeared from view.
His hand moved unconsciously, absently rubbing a strange object that hung at his chest.
The object was a vivid crimson, bearing a contorted face with closed eyelids. But at that moment, the eyes opened, as if it were a living thing...
It was a Beherit. But not just any Beherit. It was the most special of them all: the Crimson Beherit, the "Egg of the King," which could only be held by one chosen to be a member of the God Hand.
---
After traveling a long distance, Nidhogg stopped pretending. He took out the Spirit Calling Bell and blew a short whistle.
Instantly, white light coalesced. Torrent materialized, a horse with a black coat, a white mane, and a pair of curved horns.
He shook his head and snorted, clearly excited.
Nidhogg secured his pack to the horse's back, stepped into the stirrups, settled confidently into the saddle, and patted Torrent's forehead soothingly.
"Let's go, Torrent. Head for the border of Midland. Our destination is Doldrey."
Torrent whinnied in response and immediately broke into a run, his four hooves flying across the plain. He was far faster than any ordinary horse, a blur of speed.
When they reached a cliff face, Nidhogg didn't steer Torrent around it. He gave the spirit steed his head.
Torrent leaped, not down, but up. He bounded twice in the air, landing on the sheer cliff wall as if it were flat ground, and then kept running.
He was as agile as a mountain goat, able to traverse impossible terrain. When he jumped from great heights, he could create a buffer with two mid-air leaps and land perfectly.
Nidhogg rode on, heading into the distance.
Melina appeared from time to time, sometimes riding sidesaddle behind him, sometimes seated at their campfire. She would speak a few words, then vanish.
Later, Torrent's horns became so conspicuous that Nidhogg fitted him with leather barding, like a warhorse. The horns, connected to his head, looked like part of the decoration.
They encountered bandits and brigands along the way. But Nidhogg was on a mission. He usually ignored them, and Torrent was too fast for them to catch.
If night hadn't been falling, Nidhogg wouldn't have minded letting his Lordsworn's Greatsword taste blood again.
Finally, in the third year since Nidhogg had arrived in this world, after a month of hard travel, he and Torrent reached the border between the northern front of the Tudor Empire and the southern front of the Kingdom of Midland.
They were about a week's journey from Doldrey.