They were chasing after him.

They were searching for him.

They were hunting him down

He wanted to disband the group, but they wanted to fight alongside him.

"Those idiots" he thought.

Even though he greatly reduced the king's troops by using all sorts of traps he carefully concealed in Sherwood, they did not stop and would not stop until he was dead.

It's been a whole month since the soldiers killed everyone and he began his one-man last stand.

And even though he was resorting to all of his tricks, old and new, his victory was so unbelievably far away from him.

He fought on and fought on; he stopped at nothing to help the poor villagers, even if they hated him.

A man who would not tolerate the unrighteousness of the mighty, and would use every mean necessary to aid those harmed by them.

That was who he was.

But deep within him, he longed for something else.

He wanted to be a hero, and be acknowledged by people as one.

When he was a child he wanted to be a "badass knight". Serving the townspeople, serving his king, living to serve and protect everyone.

But now that's nothing more than a distant dream.

Even more so than before, now that the "badass knights" are out for his blood.

He heard hushed voices. They are here already.

To fight head on would be disadvantageous.

And so, he retreated to the deepest, darkness part of Sherwood Forest.

The troops quickly strode by the trees, attempting to avoid the traps of the man, but failing most of the time.

Their orders are to kill the thief.

While a normal thief was nothing to send so many soldiers about, this one stole valuables from the noblemen, not to mention with which frequency he did such a thing.

Also, nobles from other countries wanted to take advantage of his actions, and were going to favor him. They could attack at anytime

The king had to take action, and so he sent them to eliminate him.

The leader gave the order to halt, and the troops did so.

There was the sound of animals running away altered by the sudden presence of them.

There was the sound water running in a small stream.

There was the sound of the wind making the grass sway gently.

And there was the light, almost impossible to hear, sound of a bowstring being pulled.

And then there was the whistle of something being propelled through the air.

And then there was the dull sound of steel, flesh and bones being pierced.

And then there was the loud thud of a man falling to the floor, dead.

They saw a shadow jumping from tree to tree, away from them.

It was him.

They chased after him, triggering traps upon doing so.

Their chase was slowed but not halted.

They arrived at a clearing, and several soldiers which had a clear view of him shot with their crossbows.

But even though he moved so fast, he did not evade every arrow.

Wounded, he shot at a place that did not seem important.

But it was the trigger for a trap that caused a massive explosion.

The troops were in complete disarray, and he used the confusion to escape.

The night was cold. So was the air.

He arrived at the deepest part of Sherwood Forest.

Did he kill all of them?

Maybe that was so, maybe not.

Either way, only he knew how to enter that part of Sherwood, he and he alone.

It was time to check his wounds.

Most of the arrows were stuck in unimportant places.

But he coughed and saw blood in his palm.

This was normal, since an arrow hit a lung.

How did he manage to run so far without noticing?

Either way, there was no way out.

This dark place would be his grave.

"Ugh…Fantastic" he thought.

Was it wrong of him to try to help the villagers?

Friends…Riches…He had everything he needed.

Why didn't he just take it?

He looked up.

He closed his eyes.

He tried to ease his breathing, and succeeded.

And so, the Faceless King of May died.

On the dark blue depths of the ocean's womb, there are several buildings.

On one specific building, there is a red wall separating two parties.

One had a child and its servant

The other had a man in green armor and another with a cloak of the same color.

The water on the men's side was red, the walls and floor were dark, and the two persons were being enveloped by black and purple mosaics of sorts.

They are disappearing.

As the man, as that "Neutral Good" servant with the cloak vanished forever, a single thought crossed his mind, but he did not voice it, there was no need to.

"I have no regrets anymore…"

"Thank you…kid"

"Thank you…Master"