I came to my senses—around me is black snow, on the square lie the dead, and crows peck at torn bodies… Ryazan is burned to the ground. The horde is already gone, but their Kipchak dogs are combing through the ruins, finishing off those who managed to survive. And then a child with white hair appears beside me and calls me by name. He assures me I’m Ratmir’s warrior—one who swore to protect his loved ones.
But how is that possible? Yesterday I was living in a different era. And today—bare among corpses, in someone else’s body, with someone else’s memories that feel like they’ve become mine.
What’s next? There’s only one choice. Russians don’t cry—Russians fight. I raised my sword, gathered the remaining living, and for the first time I realized: my place and my time are here now. The Tatars thought Rus’ had been broken and conquered.
They miscalculated. I ended up in Ryazan not to lie down in the same grave with it. I’m here to raise the land for battle and begin a war for liberation.