Sky Mesa Русский военный корабль, иди на хуй

The boy had been rescued. 

No thanks to him, apparently. 

When the time came, the Witch had not even approached him. No doubt hoping to pad her own record in the kingdom, she'd instead set out on her own—a suicide mission, Vasya would have reckoned. 

But the two returned alive, albeit worse for wear, and he watched them from the shadows, looking over the face of his. . .

Son.

And how many of those were there, out in the world? He had never stepped up for any children he might have ostensibly sired; the closest opportunity thus far had been his willingness to help Medusa.

Now that the mission had ended, so had said willingness. 

Vasiliy instead took advantage of the chaos within a nation at war and slipped away, skipping nimbly over the moonlit high desert grounds to the northeast. The mountains were in his sights, and once there, he'd rest for a moment before carrying on further north where he truly belonged.

To be free to fuck and fight at leisure; 

And to never again let a woman and her wiles determine the course of his life. . .Gods knew how much of it was left.