"The Church has no right to make demands of me," Z'albor chuckled, pacing around his opulent room adorned with artifacts of potent magic and lavish furniture, each piece worth more than a peasant's lifetime earnings.

  "Archmagus, please. Lives are at stake, and more will be lost if we don't take action. The time to act is now."

  "People die every day. My realm is plagued by the undead, Vampires, Specters, Revenants, and Corpselords. We defend the rest of the living world from the Shadowlands, yet they don't send us aid."

  "They lack the time and resources. The..."

  Z'albor slammed a heavy fist on his diamond-encrusted table. "They claim they lack the time and resources! The Church and the Griffon Empire are allies, arguably the strongest force on this entire planet! Instead of blaming me and my people, they should send their paladins to the Shadowlands to defeat the Undying Monarch. Yet, they have the audacity to ask for MY help and threaten ME if I refuse? Can't they inform one of their cardinals or paladins? The Llevian battle against chaos but never seek my aid, even though the leader of the Olandra is my friend! No, the cult still lurks in Sardonia. While I sympathize with the innocent who might fall prey to the necromancers, that is the responsibility of the Church and their God to protect. The necromancers have more opportunities to gain the power to raise Necros here in Sardonia or in the Shadowlands, and that's precisely where I plan to focus my efforts. What I can offer is a few daggers enchanted and designed to set free the spirits that possess these corpses and instant travel for you and your companions. I will not debate this."

  In an instant, the world transformed, and I stood amidst the ruins of a once-thriving human city. The air reeked of decay, and skeletal buildings loomed like mournful sentinels. The sky overhead mirrored the somber scene with its ominous gray.

  In the desolation, distant inquisitors moved about, investigating the remnants of the lost civilization. Navigating through shattered structures, I approached Indo and Guan, their expressions heavy with the tragedy around them.

  "Well met. I'm here to assist however I can," I announced, my voice cutting through the uncomfortable silence.

  "Where are the others?" Indo inquired, scanning the horizon.

  "They'll be here soon. I didn't bring them when I visited the Archmagus, so he's rounding them up as we..."

  Before I could finish, the missing crusaders—Jeremiah, Keille, Davorn, and Roderick—materialized a few meters away, accompanied by the imposing figure of Z'albor.

  "I haven't got all day, so I'll make this quick. It's your responsibility to stop the necromancers in this area," Indo opened his mouth, but Z'albor silenced us all without so much as a wave of his hand. I couldn't utter a word. I was amazed at how effortlessly the Archmagus used spells. The difference in power between a Velmar noble like myself and one of the most potent Corpselords was evident.

  Z'albor poured sand onto the ground, manipulating it with his Essence. The sand began to radiate a luminous azure energy. With a graceful sweep of his hands, he conjured the brilliant sand back to him in a mesmerizing dance. The sand infused into a plain parchment, which he handed to me with an air of solemnity.

  "This here's a map, complete with a legend. Every creature, from Wights to necromancers, has been marked by the sands and revealed on this map. If you infuse your Essence into it, it'll show you exactly where you are, ensuring you won't get lost as long as you have a magus in the expedition," Z'albor explained, presenting the parchment with a gravity that matched the significance of the task at hand. His words hung in the air, resonating with the weight of the impending mission.

  He turned to face Indo and Guan with a pointed reminder, "So if you let Elleshar die, you may be in trouble. Don't let it happen. Here are some daggers enchanted to banish spirits. They lose potency after a single use. Any questions?" None of us could respond, still under the effects of his silencing spell. With a final assurance, Z'albor teleported away, leaving us to contemplate the gravity of our duty.

  "Was he mocking us? He didn't give us the chance to ask anything or gather Osei and Talia to discuss the plan," Indo mused, a hint of frustration in his voice.

  "The instructions were simple enough. He probably forgot he silenced us and was fully confident in our abilities to convey the information to the others," Guan rationalized, attempting to find reason in the enigmatic Archmagus's actions.

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  "Forgot he silenced us? A powerful wizard like that? I doubt it. He may not be allied with necromancers, but he's still clearly an ass. I see why Aubemont doesn't like him much," Indo retorted, his skepticism evident.

  "That 'ass' is the reason we'll save the lives of many of your people," I interjected, emphasizing the urgency of the situation.

  "Oi, that ass? I mean, it was pretty good and all, but it certainly won't be saving anyone's life," Davorn mocked, injecting a touch of irreverence into the solemn atmosphere.

  "Can you take a single minute seriously?" Keille intervened.

  "I did. Several, as a matter of fact. I didn't even mention the sand I have stuck between my ears, and my beard, and my…"

  "Okay, we get it. You're getting far too descriptive, Davorn," Jeremiah interjected, trying to steer the conversation back to the mission.

  "Too descriptive? I'm filtering it for the woman here. I can show you descriptive," Davorn quipped with a mischievous grin.

  "Can we please get on with saving people? It is our, you know, duty as warriors of God," Roderick implored, refocusing the group on the solemn task ahead.

  "Don't you wish you had the Archmagus' spell right about now?" I teased Indo, who responded with a helpless sigh, lowering his head.

  "Psst, I love a little bit of playful banter, but I know I wish I could do that," Guan chimed in with a light jest.

  "Brothers, I am glad to see you, but what are you doing here?" Osei questioned, appearing with Talia from around the bend of a destroyed tavern.

  "I called them to help, and it paid off. Look," Indo explained, holding up the map Z'albor had created for us.

  "How did you create this? Elleshar, are you certain those are the locations of the monsters who did this?" Osei inquired, skepticism lining his features.

  "Indeed I am, for it was not me who created it, but the Archmagus himself."

  "It could very well be a trap," Talia cynically remarked.

  "Yes, because the Archmagus would need to devise such an elaborate plan and spend such valuable resources to lead us astray to an ambush of several demons, of which we would clearly slay a formidable amount and thus weaken his army…" Indo's words dripped with sarcasm.

  "Enough Vescaro," Osei intervened. "We understand where you are coming from, but your condescending tone is neither appropriate nor welcome. We are trained to analyze situations, ambushes, and people, with the understanding that we are, in fact, the most frightening thing in the vicinity. Under normal circumstances, Sister Talia's assessment would have been perfectly reasonable."

  "But this is not a normal situation, and I grow tired of you treating it as such!" I could feel the tension growing. Indo's face reddened with anger as he spat the words, and he continued to huff and puff even after. Guan placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  "Indo, you cannot speak to Osei…" she began.

  "It is alright, Sister," Osei interrupted, offering a warm smile as usual. "Indo, I understand your frustration, truly. It is difficult to accept that we cannot fix all problems…"

  "But we can fix this one!"

  "Will we bring a single life back by destroying the cult? Will avenging them ensure their salvation?" Osei's calm rebuttal echoed through the strained air.

  "...No but…"

  Osei's hand remained aloft, a silent command for Indo to hold his retort. "But nothing. You must learn to tame your emotions," Osei continued, his voice a steady stream that flowed against the torrent of Indo's frustration. The weight of his gaze bore into Indo, urging him to look beyond the immediate turmoil.

  "Do you not think the enemy can smell the conflict residing within you?" Osei's words, laden with a certain mysticism, painted a vivid picture of an unseen battle where emotions were weapons wielded by both allies and adversaries. "Do you believe they will not take advantage of such an opportunity?" The battlefield, in Osei's vision, extended beyond the physical realm into the realm of the psychological, where the scent of inner turmoil could be as damning as any weapon.

  "Your rash decision got Martin killed." Osei's blunt statement cut through the emotional fog, a sobering acknowledgment of the consequences that lingered in the aftermath of impulsive choices. The unspoken pain of loss hung in the air, a poignant reminder that actions, however well-intentioned, could echo with irreversible repercussions.

  "I saved a boy's life," Indo's defense, a lone beacon in the storm, struggled to pierce through the somber realization that enveloped them.

  "Which was a good thing," Osei conceded, his words softening the edges of censure. "But how many more children would Martin have saved throughout his lifetime had he not traded his life for the life of this boy?" The question, heavy with the weight of hypotheticals, painted a poignant image of a life dedicated to service and protection.

  "Will this boy become a great man in the future? Who can say, perhaps he will. But the life of one young lad, though precious indeed, is not worth more than the life of many."

  Indo settled down a little, easing his breathing as he engaged in deep thought. Osei, the calm harbinger of wisdom, turned to face me. "Will you lead the way, Elleshar?" I nodded, and we continued onward to purge the undead threat. In the wake of the exchange, a somber resolve settled over the group, each step forward carrying the significance of introspection and the shared commitment to vanquish the undead menace.