Meanwhile, things changed slowly around Newton. Not suddenly. Not enough for him to notice at first. But the monastery no longer felt entirely hostile when he walked through it.
The younger knights greeted him openly now. Some trained harder whenever he entered the training grounds. Others waited near the gates on weekends, hoping they would be among those chosen to ride with him to Snowland. Even the older knights who disliked him had begun hiding it behind silence instead of open contempt.
Not all of them accepted him. A few still watched him with cold eyes during meals. A few still refused to bow when he passed. Tywin remained among the worst of them, though even he had stopped speaking against Newton openly.
But the balance inside the monastery had shifted. Newton could feel it. The feasts at Snowland had become part of the knights' lives now. Men who once spent their evenings beneath silent monastery walls now laughed around warm fires, drank heavily with Snowland soldiers, and returned with stories they repeated for days afterward.
The rigid distance between Newton and the others weakened every week. Aemon noticed. He never spoke against it.
Yet every time Newton returned with larger numbers of knights behind him, Aemon's gaze lingered slightly longer than before.
That alone unsettled Newton more than anger would have.
One month passed quietly. Winter deepened across the Nine Kingdoms. Snow buried the roads leading down the mountains, though the monastery horses still crossed them better than most armies could. The forests below the cliffs grew pale beneath frost, and smoke rose endlessly from distant villages struggling against the cold.
That evening, Newton mounted his horse beside the monastery gates. Three hundred knights waited behind him. Their armor gleamed beneath the fading sunlight. Blue cloaks moved softly in the wind. Horses stamped against the frozen earth impatiently.
Newton pulled slightly against the reins and faced them. "We will ride quickly to Snowland," he said. "We return before nightfall."
The men nodded. Some grinned openly. One of them shouted, "Then let us ride before the cooks finish the meat without us!"
Laughter broke across the line. Newton shook his head faintly, though a small smile touched his face. Then he kicked the horse forward.
The gates opened. Three hundred horses thundered down the mountain road. The sound rolled across the cliffs like distant war drums.
They crossed frozen streams and narrow forest paths. Villagers stopped their work whenever the knights passed. Children ran toward the roadsides to watch them ride by. Some bowed toward the monastery banners. Others simply stared in awe.
Newton rode ahead of the others with Tywin beside him. Cold wind struck against his face as the horses pushed harder across the lower hills.
The sun had already begun sinking when Newton heard another sound beneath the thunder of hooves.
Faint at first. Then clearer. Running rast.
Newton's expression changed immediately. "Halt!" The command cut through the movement sharply.
Every horse slowed almost at once. The forest around them fell silent except for the heavy breathing of the animals.
Newton listened carefully. Branches snapped somewhere ahead. Then came the sound again.
Footsteps.
Tywin reached slowly for his sword. "Someone is running."
Newton nodded without taking his eyes off the trees. The knights behind them shifted uneasily. Then suddenly a man burst out of the forest.
He stumbled violently into the road before collapsing to one knee.
Arrows pierced through his shoulder and side. Blood soaked the front of his clothes. His breathing came rough and uneven as panic filled his eyes.
The moment he saw the monastery banners, he crawled desperately forward. "Help me!" His voice cracked. "Please, help me!"
Newton immediately jumped down from his horse. The man grabbed weakly at Newton's boot. "Please..." Newton crouched beside him quickly. "Who is after you?"
Before the wounded man could answer, movement exploded from the forest behind him. Men poured out from between the trees in large numbers. They held armor, spears, swords, and the flag of Green City.
Nearly two hundred soldiers spread across the road within seconds.
Newton slowly rose to his feet. The monastery knights behind him drew closer immediately. Hands moved toward sword hilts.
The opposing army stopped several yards away. Their leader rode forward on horseback, his eyes moving carefully across the monastery banners. Then his gaze settled on Newton's blue badge.
His jaw tightened slightly.
Newton stepped forward calmly. "Why are you chasing this man?"
The leader looked irritated already. "That is none of your concern, Knight." His voice carried authority, but there was caution beneath it too. "Face your divine duties and leave us to deal with him."
Newton frowned slightly. The wounded man behind him groaned weakly. Newton slowly drew his sword. Steel flashed beneath the fading sunlight. "You are not taking him," Newton said calmly, "until I know what he has done."
The soldiers across from them shifted uneasily. The leader's eyes narrowed. "He is our prisoner," he replied coldly. "He escaped lawful arrest. We are returning him to our lord."
The wounded man immediately coughed through the blood in his throat. "They are lying." He tried to rise and failed. "They want to murder me!"
Newton turned toward him. "Why?"
The young man's breathing trembled. "I am Kelvin Ezion, son of Lord Kelly Ezion of Green City."
Newton froze briefly. He knew the name. Everyone in Snowland knew it.
Lord Ezion had long been one of Edmond's strongest allies among the southern kingdoms. He was the one who gifted Sonia her designed Sonia's wheelchair and gifted it to her himself.
Newton looked back toward the soldiers slowly. "Why would an army hunt the son his lord?"
Kelvin swallowed painfully before answering. "My uncle rebelled against my father." His voice shook with grief. "He murdered him, and took the castle, and now he wants me dead so he can claim the Green Throne completely."
Murmurs spread quietly among the monastery knights. Newton's eyes hardened. He turned back toward the opposing soldiers. "Is this true?"
The leader's face darkened immediately. "Even if it was," he snapped, "what business is it of yours?" He pointed toward the monastery banners. "You are knights of the monastery. Your duty is to the gods. You have no place in the politics of the Nine Kingdoms."
Newton remained still. Cold wind moved through the road between both armies. Then Newton answered quietly. "We also swore an oath to protect the weak."
The leader laughed bitterly. "Weak?" He pointed toward Kelvin. "That man is part of a civil war." Newton did not lower his sword.
"He is wounded and hunted by two hundred armed men. Right now, he is weak." The leader's patience finally broke. "I can see you are the stubborn type." He slowly drew his own sword. "So let violence settle it."
Steel rang across the road as the soldiers behind him armed themselves. Immediately the monastery knights pulled their swords free.
Three hundred blades reflected beneath the dying sunlight. Newton stepped backward toward his men. "Shield wall!"
The command roared across the road..The knights moved instantly. Shields locked together with practiced precision, forming a solid wall of steel and wood across the narrow path.
The enemy army charged. Their war cries exploded through the forest. Then both sides collided.
The sound of steel striking steel shook the road violently.
The first enemy soldiers smashed against the monastery shield wall and failed immediately. Spears thrust through openings. Swords hacked downward from behind the shields.
Men screamed. Blood splashed across the snow.
Newton moved through the fighting with frightening speed. His blade tore through the first soldier who reached him. The second tried to strike from the side, but Newton turned sharply and drove his sword through the man's throat before the attack landed.
More soldiers rushed him. He met them head on. The road descended fully into chaos. Horses screamed. Steel clashed endlessly.
Bodies collapsed into the snow one after another. The enemy army tried repeatedly to break the monastery formation, but the shield wall held firm every time. Every failed charge cost them more men.
Tywin fought beside Newton with brutal precision, cutting down soldiers who pushed too close to the formation. The enemy leader shouted desperately for his men to regroup.
It was already too late. Fear had begun spreading through their lines. Newton cut through another soldier and looked up. The enemy numbers had collapsed badly.
Less than fifty remained standing now. Blood covered the road. The leader stared around him in horror before finally roaring:
"Retreat!" The surviving soldiers turned immediately. Some fled into the forests. Others mounted horses and rode desperately down the road. Within moments they were gone.
Silence slowly returned.
Broken only by groans from the dying. Newton stood still for several seconds, breathing heavily as blood dripped from his sword. Then he turned sharply. "Treat the wounded."
The knights immediately moved. Small camps were established near the road before darkness fully arrived. Fires rose quickly against the cold evening air while healers moved between injured men.
Kelvin sat near one of the fires wrapped in heavy cloth. Newton knelt beside him, pressing heated cloth against the wound in his shoulder.
Kelvin winced painfully. For several minutes, neither of them spoke. Then suddenly Kelvin broke. Tears filled his eyes. "My father is dead." His voice cracked completely. "My uncle will not stop hunting me." He grabbed Newton's wrist desperately. "Please, help me."
Newton looked at him quietly. "We cannot involve ourselves further."
Kelvin stared at him in disbelief.
"We are knights of the monastery," Newton continued carefully. "We do not interfere in kingdom wars."
Kelvin's breathing trembled harder. "My father fed your monastery for years." The words came desperate now. "He sent food, gold, supplies during winters." Tears rolled down his face openly. "Please help me because of him."
Newton remained silent.
Kelvin lowered his head weakly. "They have my wife." His voice nearly disappeared. "And my children."
Something tightened painfully inside Newton's chest. Still, he shook his head. "I am sorry."
Tywin suddenly stepped closer from the shadows. "If the castle remains under the uncle," he said quietly, "he will eventually learn what happened here tonight."
Newton looked at him. Tywin crossed his arms. "And when he learns the monastery protected Kelvin, he may decide to bring war against us before we can react."
The fire crackled softly between them. Newton exhaled slowly. Part of him already wanted to help. Another part wanted to return home immediately.
He had delayed his visit to Edmond longer than usual already. His father's warning still echoed clearly in his mind.
Never miss the shaving.
The thought unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. Yet Kelvin's voice returned again. "They have my children."
Newton closed his eyes briefly..When he opened them again, Tywin was still watching him carefully. "The Grand Master will not approve," Newton muttered.
Kelvin stared at him desperately. "Then why save me at all?" The question struck harder than Newton expected.
Kelvin's eyes burned now. "What was the purpose of risking your lives for me if you intended to leave me for them to kill later?"
Newton froze.
The fire cracked softly beside them. No one spoke. For several seconds, Newton simply stared into the flames. Then slowly he rose to his feet. He knew what his father would have done. He knew that Edmond wouldn't have think twice. But yet, he was limited because he was a knight.
He turned toward the gathered knights nearby. "Which of you," he asked loudly, "is willing to sail to Green City and help this man reclaim his home?"
For barely a heartbeat, silence remained. Then hands rose. One after another. Dozens turned into hundreds. Even some knights Newton barely knew stepped forward immediately. Tywin raised his hand too.
Newton stared at them. All the three hundred knights were ready. Waiting for his command. He exhaled sharply and shook his head faintly, almost in disbelief. "Alright then," he said quietly. Then louder: "We ride for Green City."
A roar rose from the knights immediately. Kelvin lowered his head in relief as tears fell freely from his eyes.
And far beyond them, beyond the forests and frozen roads, something ancient remained hidden in the library of Green City. The last surviving dragon egg waited in darkness for the last Dragarian to awaken it.