Oh, I hate these rascals with a passion. The inquisitorium had some of the most hypocritical scoundrels known to man. They served a supposed peaceful God, yet they tortured, maimed, and even killed to complete their missions in the name of their God. Not someone I want to serve. Now I had to sit here and act polite because these rascals were watching me. I hope my nervousness wasn't obvious. Could generally keep my cool, but Thamolin was even more rude than me, and I was worried he'd open his mouth and get himself in trouble. Even the crusader who tried to reassure us didn't sound confident. These guys scared me more than those darn demons. I felt something fall on my lap. I looked down and jumped instantly; it was the decapitated head of a Wight. Thamolin couldn't hold back his chuckle, but I was more concerned with who flung the head at me. The cave entrance shadowed behind us, and my eyes darted around, trying to find the source of this unwelcome surprise.

  "You two had something to do with this?" came the voice of a stern woman. I turned to face her. She was a tan woman with dark brown hair, dressed in the standard inquisitor wardrobe, and with her were two men and another woman.

  "Something, yes, but you already know there was someone else involved."

  "Wise enough not to lie to an inquisitor," the ebon-skinned man stated.

  "I may not be educated, but I am no fool. Even if I didn't know you could sense the magic used in the cave, I should be smart enough to realize you would notice some of the Wights had spear punctures, and neither of us has spears."

  The inquisitor laughed. "You'd be surprised how many people lack that common sense. So where is your friend?"

  "In truth, I don't know. He's a Jakka, trained as a hunter. He will be difficult to track down, especially with the lead he has," I explained.

  "It's honestly not important. Right, Osei?" the smaller woman asked.

  "Correct. We were just curious because we were not expecting a guardian in these parts. And yourself, since you clearly know a thing or two, have you seen other demonic activity in these parts? We're trying to prevent an outbreak and quickly. Any villager that's killed expands their forces."

  "I have seen nothing aside from what happened today. Why do you believe there may be an outbreak?" I asked.

  "That's for us to know and not yourself," the tan woman said. The dark-skinned man put up his hand.

  "We tracked a cult and found some of their members traveled to this area. I thank you for your time. We will take our leave now and see if we can find others."

  "Wait!" I shouted as he turned around. "Not long ago, I fought back an exceptionally large band of chaos not far from here. In fact, I've noticed an overall increase in their activity lately, though I'm not sure how that can relate to the Wights. What I am sure of is this is our home, and we will not watch it burn. Let me come with you." I might not like the Church, but they take demons seriously.

  "Absolutely not," the young pale man objected.

  "Why not? This is my home, and now that I know there will be a possible outbreak, I'm going to try to stop it with or without your help."

  "He makes a fair point," the Velmar captain interjected.

  "I know he does, and I agree with him. We aren't undercover right now, so he can come, though at his own risk," the head inquisitor declared. "My name is Osei. Stay close to the crusaders, and you should be safe. You seem capable enough to defend yourself, but the magic the necromancers possess could catch you by surprise, and you are less armed for dealing with such situations than we are."

  I nodded in agreement. Pride meant little to nothing to me anymore, and he was right. Inquisitors and crusaders were trained specifically to deal with essence users and demons.

  I faced my son, knowing he had no place in the impending battle. "Thamolin, I need you to go back to my parents or my sister."

  "No way. I'm staying here." The resolve in his eye seemed unbending, but so was mine.

  "I'm not askin' boy. You're going to get yourself killed out here. Bow and sword won't be much use against casters like them necromancers."

  "This is my home too, and going to meet up with them now would be more dangerous anyway, with all the Wights roaming the woods right now."

  Damn it. The boy had a point. "Fine, you can come, but stay behind me," I sighed.

  "Shouldn't we look for Kor'tish first? He might need our help," Thamolin stated.

  "I can guarantee that if he needs help, we wouldn't be able to do anything. He is far more capable than us, and chances are, he's either close by or stopping another group of Wights from attacking a nearby village. He's protected these parts since before you were born. We have to trust he will be fine, and we will find the source of these demons."

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  "You know, this quest isn't safe for civilians. Even if you were a member of the wanderer guild, you seem to be a fighter. Demons and Essence users are a different category of threats that you are likely not accustomed to. We cannot promise your safety or that of your son, for that matter," the young man observed.

  "Indo, you were just saying our talents are better used elsewhere because this was going to be boring. That doesn't sound like you thought it was dangerous to me," the almond-eyed woman noted.

  "Boring for us, yes. We are the best of the best. If we joined the guild, we'd be tier 5 wanderers. Based on his equipment, he should be at best a tier 3, and he isn't trained for these threats the way we are. Even if he could defeat the lieutenant in a spar, Jeremiah would likely fare better against demons. And his son… a child that young shouldn't have this put on his shoulders," the young man explained. I looked at Thamolin, showing obvious agreement with the young inquisitor.

  "I can handle myself if things go south. I've slain more than my share of Wights today," my son retorted.

  "But you shouldn't have to. That's why we're here. God sent us so you wouldn't have to lift a finger. We are overqualified for this job. We will find the necromancers in this part and wipe them out of existence," Indo reasoned.

  "And do you know where to find this necromancer?" Thamolin asked.

  "Naturally," the Velmar jumped in. "We have a map, enhanced with the essence of the Archmagus Z'albor himself. He or she is not far from here, actually, which is why we were here. That being said, they're right, Indo. They were able to fight off the Wights before we got here, and they managed to stay in one piece."

  "I am convinced it was because of their friend Kor'tish, but even if it wasn't, there are chances that we will encounter threats far greater than Wights before night falls. Slim, yes, but chances nonetheless," Indo asserted with a furrowed brow.

  "We'll take our chances," Thamolin declared arrogantly, his chin held high.

  That was my son. Hard-headed, just like his old man. The inquisitor sighed in surrender, rollin' his eyes. We continued to follow the Velmar with the magic map. Some of the crusaders engaged in pointless banter, namely the Ozen folk, their laughter echoing through the woods. Reminded me of my dad. We came to a halt after some time.

  "Are we near?" Osei asked, his gaze focused on Elleshar.

  "Indeed we are. One of the necromancers is within a half a mile radius," Elleshar explained, tracing the map with a dramatic sweep of his hand.

  "You said there were three in the outskirts," Indo pointed out, a quizzical expression on his face. "And we haven't seen any undead recently."

  "Yes, but while they might expect a retired adventurer or even half a dozen of them, they don't believe it will be enough to stop them, so they clearly spread out to get to the most villagers the fastest way possible," Elleshar clarified, his eyes scannin' the surroundings.

  "That's where Kor'tish must have gone," I interrupted. "As a Jakka, he's incredibly fast. He must be trackin' down monsters from town to town with the help of his beasts to stop them from bringin' harm to the villagers as best as he can."

  "That would make sense, but what of the undead in this area?" the almond-eyed woman asked, her arms crossed.

  "It is probable that their ranks comprise solely Wights and Shamblers. Wights, resilient to the armaments wielded by the local populace, render even small firearms insufficient for inflicting significant harm. Nonetheless, a necromancer of the third circle possesses the capability to fashion a Wight from the cadaver of an ordinary individual, obviating the necessity for more potent creations. The Shamblers, on the other hand, derive from the reanimation of aged corpses that have undergone considerable decay. Due to the easily destructible nature of their putrefied flesh, they serve as defenders of the enclave. Necromancers leverage them to inundate interlopers with overwhelming numbers or as corporeal shields while orchestrating the formulation of spells to repel intruders more decisively." Elleshar explained.

  "And how would you know all of this?" the other woman inquired, her eyes narrowing.

  "The Velmar possess an unparalleled mastery of Essence manipulation, standing as pioneers in the development of incantations and spells, including the intricate art of necromancy. Furthermore, my designation within the Church in Kal'emsha affords me extensive experience in confronting practitioners of the dark arts. The question naturally arises: Why, indeed, did Christelle deem it prudent to enlist my expertise and that of my team for this joint expedition with your esteemed inquisitorial cadre?"

  "As a legate, nothing more. You were the bridge between the Sardonians and the Church. You were the only reason we were able to convince Janissaries to do their job," she said, her tone slightly accusatory.

  The Velmar chuckled. "Ask her then."

  "That's enough," Osei interjected sternly. "Elleshar, lead the way," he commanded, gesturing forward with authority.

  The forest around us was filled with life; the vibrant colors of moss-covered trees and the rustling leaves painted a vivid image. Sunlight filtered through the thick covering above us, casting playful shadows on the forest floor. The air was filled with the earthy aroma of decaying leaves and the distant scent of wildflowers. As we ventured deeper, the terrain became uneven, and the sound of a distant stream added a soothing melody to our journey.

  Elleshar led us with confidence, his steps echoing in the natural cathedral of the woods. The map in his hand glowed softly, respondin' to the essence within him. The occasional snap of a twig underfoot and the chirpin' of birds above were the only disruptions in our quiet procession.

  The Velmar paused at times, studyin' the map and the surroundings, his keen eyes catchin' details others might miss. The anticipation in the group grew, an unspoken tension as we neared the source of the disturbance.

  Osei's eyes remained sharp, scannin' the surroundings for any signs of movement. Thamolin clutched his weapon tighter. The Ozen folk, now quiet, walked with a newfound seriousness, the lightness of their banter replaced by the seriousness of the upcoming confrontation.

  The forest, calm at first, now seemed to hold its breath. We pressed on, the colorful scenery an interesting reflection of the dark forces we were about to face. The whispers of the wind through the leaves became a threatening symphony, underscoring our mission.