Del'rek of the Eight-Man Empire moved with deliberate care, his four sturdy legs pressing against the damp forest floor near the edges of the Wastelands. His large trunk swayed, sniffing the air as he inhaled the blend of wet grass, ancient trees, and the faint grit of encroaching sand. The smells were achingly familiar. A century might have passed since he last walked this place—or longer. He wasn't sure. Time had a way of dulling the edges of his memory, yet the scents remained sharp, reminding him of a past he could never forget— nor did he wish to.

  "You shouldn't be here, Restoration Sage ," a voice rumbled from above, venom lacing the words.

  The title was spat like a curse. The voice was older and harsher than Del'rek remembered, but he knew who it was. Very few would be able to detect his spirit through his veil. Turning his trunk upward, he saw the Beast King perched high in the boughs of a towering tree, his form concealed by the interplay of shadow and sun.

  "I am here to pay respects to my Master," Del'rek replied with a steady voice, although his elephant form made his voice husky. He had not used this form in centuries.

  "Repeat that again. I think I heard it wrong," the Beast King snarled, leaping from above. He landed with a soft thud before the Sage in an elephant form. "Or are my memories lying to me? I remembered you betraying our ways and our Master along with it."

  Del'rek sighed at his once-old friend. "And here I thought more than a century would be enough to let bygones be bygones."

  "Bygones?" The Beast King snarled. "She loved you, Del'rek. We all did. She mourned for you."

  "And I will forever regret and hate that day," Del'rek replied.

  "Yet you never asked for forgiveness," the Beast King stated.

  "No." Del'rek raised his eyes to meet the Herald's. "And I will never ask. You had your path, and I had mine."

  The Beast King eyed the elephant, his fist clenching. Memories of their Master—her grief, her steadfast belief in Del'rek even after his betrayal flashed in his mind like unhealed wounds. He remembered the anguish his Master went through when they learned what Del'rek had done—what Sunda had always begged them not to. Sunda had begged them. And Del'rek had done it anyway. After all that, she had forgiven him anyway—without Del'rek even needing to ask.

  But Del'rek did not need to know that. The Beast King was not obliged to inform him.

  "What do you want?" The Beast King demanded. "You would not have known she had passed until you stepped in here."

  "I didn't," Del'rek admitted. "I was here to speak with her. But since you were the one to greet me, and not a shred of her spirit remains here. I have deduced her death."

  "Since you've now figured it out, you may leave," the Beast King pointed in the direction where the Sage had come from. "Or would you rather I send you back to Iceflower tuskless?"

  A pang of grief rose in Del'rek's heart. "I wish to pay my respect," he replied, trying to inject as much sincerity into his voice. "Even a prodigal son doesn't deserve to be denied that."

  The Beast King frowned. He was conflicted. On one hand, Del'rek was the sacred beast that had betrayed their Master. Yet her forgiveness lingered like an unspoken command.

  At last, he turned. "Just this once. And only for her."

  Del'rek inclined his head. "That would be more than enough."

  The Beast King led the elephant to the resting place of their Master. They strolled quietly through the jungle; the vines and bush parted along their path. Their spirits were veiled so that no one would detect their presence. Del'rek basked in the comforting familiarity of his old home. He missed the forest, although he knew he would not have made different decisions if he had been given the chance.

  "I need to speak with you," Del'rek said after a while.

  "Then speak," the Beast King replied. He was also curious about what message was so urgent that the Sage had travelled so secretly here to deliver first-hand.

  "It's the Monarchs," Del'rek continued.

  The Beast King halted in his tracks and looked over his shoulder. "We don't concern ourselves with the activity of the Monarchs," he reminded Del'rek before continuing.

  "Conflict is brewing between the Desert Monarch and the Akura," Del'rek explained. "The Wastelands will be caught in the middle if a war breaks out between them. Our home will be a battleground."

  " My home ," The Beast King reiterated. "Not yours."

  "Fine," Del'rek snapped. "But a war will break out. Don't get it twisted," he warned the Beast King. "We have received alliance proposals from the dragons and the Akuras. The Eight-Man Empire remains neutral, but the other Monarchs will not. We believe Shen and the dreadgod cults will rally with the dragons."

  "It does not concern The Wastelands. Northstrider relies on us as much as he hates to admit. He won't allow a battle to take place on top of us," the Beast King replied.

  "Stop acting foolish," Del'rek chided. "We both know Northstrider hates the dragons and will ally himself with the Akuras. He will drag you and the rest of the Wastelands into a war you do not wish."

  "Then it is obvious. We will be forced to follow," The Beast King replied frustratingly. "Or are you and your wandering Empire going to back us?"

  "No. But there is something you can do," Del'rek hinted.

  The Beast King did not reply and continued to lead the way instead.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  "I still care about the Wastelands, believe it or not," Del'rek scoffed in frustration. "My oaths bind me elsewhere, but it does not mean I have forgotten this place and its beasts. I still care about the home that she created!"

  The Beast King whirled and took a step towards the elephant. "What do you want me to do!?" he yelled. "You won't back us while Monarchs fight above us. We both know no one here can go against them!"

  "No," Del'rek replied with wide eyes. "But if The Wastelands have a Monarch of their own."

  "We have a Monarch," The Beast King rolled his eyes. "Haven't you heard he's still alive?"

  "A Monarch who cares about them," Del'rek grumbled. He stepped closer to his old friend. "You can advance," he whispered. "We both know you can. With you here, the Monarchs will have to take their battle elsewhere."

  The Beast King's eyes grew dark despite the bright sun. He looked with intense eyes at the Sage and snarled. "No."

  Del'rek met the fierce eyes with his own. He exhaled and sighed. "I had expected so," he whispered in resignation. "It was worth the try nonetheless."

  The Beast King turned and began walking again. "We have survived so far without a Monarch. We will endure and survive again."

  "Then I wish you the best of luck," Del'rek replied, trailing the Herald. Each step grew heavier.

  It was not long before the trees stopped, and the Beast King stood before a clearing.

  Del'rek looked at the large Menhua tree in the middle. "You did not bury her according to the way of the Wastelands," he said. "You didn't bring her body to the mountains for the crows."

  "No," the Beast King replied. "I buried her like the stories she used to tell us."

  The Herald led them towards the base of the tree. Over time, the ground had receded, revealing large tangles of roots. He used wind aura to carry him up onto the trunk. Del'rek did the same. At the centre of the trunk, where it was thickest, was a hole that the Beast King had dug with his bare hands.

  Del'rek stared inside the hole; his perception had told him who was inside, but he watched anyway. He burned soulfire, shifting back to his human form, and even discarded the tusk that he would usually wear in this form.

  "I remembered that story," the Sage muttered.

  He stepped into the hole and saw his Master's body. Gone was the golden light he was familiar with. Most of the feathers on her chest were gone now, revealing wrinkled and dead brown skin below. Her eyes, however, closed in peace, reminded him of the love she had freely given.

  "So much for never dying, am I right," the Beast King commented.

  Del'rek heard a bit of bitterness in the Herald's voice, but he could not help but smile. "Yeah," he muttered.

  The Sage summoned a water construct and a scrub from his soulspace and began washing Sunda’s body. Her body was not rotting, he noticed. The worms and insects had not dared to touch her. Only time did. The two disciples stayed quiet as he worked. Once the body was scrubbed clean, he made a thin cut on the trunk walls- sap flowed out.

  He used the sticky sap and began attaching the feathers he could find back to her body. Once he finished, he propped her up against the wall. The sight brought memories of his Master looking down on him with grace and love.

  He bowed low on all fours, pressing his head to the ground at her feet. "The disciple has returned to the master," he choked as a tear dripped from his eye.

  There was a thud next to him as The Beast King also bowed. "The disciple has returned to the master."

  For a long time, they knelt together in the quiet embrace of their shared grief.

  "You never completed the burial," Del'rek muttered, straightening his back.

  "No," The Beast King admitted. "I tried to. But I couldn't."

  "Only one more step," Del'rek pointed out.

  "Yeah," the Beast King smirked. "Let's take our Master on a walk."

  The Sage and the Herald walked through the forest, careful as they channelled wind aura into carrying their Master above. One last flight for her.

  "I wouldn't be able to openly mourn for her once I leave," Del'rek whispered. "I kept her presence a secret like how she always wanted."

  The Beast King looked up at his Master floating above their heads. He swallowed the bitterness in his mouth. "She forgave you. But I think she never blamed you in the first place. She loved you until the end," he said, remembering some of his Master's final words.

  Del'rek closed his eyes and nodded. "Thank you. For letting me know."

  "How did she die?" Del'rek asked. "I did not see any visible wounds."

  "Bloodspawns," The Beast King answered.

  Del'rek's head snapped, and he gave the Beast King an incredulous expression.

  "I couldn't believe it either," the Beast King shrugged. "She even bestowed her remnant to one my disciples. She's now at dragon territory, helping the other one advance."

  Del'rek's eyes narrowed at the words. The Beast King met it with his own knowing eyes, but there was also something Del'rek did not recognise.

  "If an opportunity arises. Will we be able to rely upon each other?" Del'rek asked.

  The Beast King nodded and offered a hand. "For our Master."

  Del'rek accepted the offered hand and shook it without hesitation. "For her."

  Ziel had a long day. He had slowly walked to the border between The Wastelands and dragon territory. Executed a dragon high gold and then walked back. Just as he was about to finally have a well-deserved rest, the Beast King summoned him.

  He sighed as he approached the Beast King outside the cave. It has become their main base ever since the Bleeding Phoenix attacked.

  The Beast King sat on the log he was always at when he wanted to meet someone, so he was easy to find. He was joyfully playing with his handpan by a campfire, and Ziel saw a few little mice listening to him by his feet. The beat sped up, and the mice's eyes widened. Zeal wondered if the mice realised that their heads were bopping.

  The tune reached its crescendo and dropped to a satisfying conclusion. The mice clapped and cheered, throwing small blades of grass to the Herald.

  "Thank you. Thank you," The Beast King bowed as if in a theatre. He waited for the cheers to finish before continuing. "That is all for this evening."

  There were a few 'aww' and 'no', but most were yawning. "Thank you, Beast King," the mice muttered in unison. "We loved it."

  The Beast King graced them with a smile. The mice formed a line and marched back into the cave.

  Ziel waited for the rodents to enter the cave before speaking. "You wanted to see me?"

  "Ah yes, Lord of the Dawnwing sect," The Beast King addressed him. "How have you been fairing?"

  "Breathing," Ziel answered.

  "I can see that," the Beast King smiled. "How do you really feel?"

  Ziel stared at him.

  "Well, you should start cheering because we just got permission to enter a Monarch's lab facility," the Beast King said, opening his arms like he had just presented an amazing idea.

  "And?" Ziel asked, suppressing a yawn. He was tired.

  "There's a water source inside called the spirit well. It is known to promote the growth of one's soul, increase madra density, and stimulate recovery," the Herald waggled his eyebrows. "It may be able to help your condition. If not, then maybe an elixir can be made from it that will."

  Ziel sighed. "You're talking about Ghostwater. Did you not raid it already?" he asked.

  "I have," The Beast King nodded, his smile not fading. "But the wells were not a...," he paused, searching for the right word, "a priority."

  Ziel looked at him impassively. "Your trash."

  "You could say that," the Beast King bounced his head from side to side and shrugged. "But for you, however, I think it could do you good."

  Ziel was careful not to lift his hope. He had long resigned to his condition, and the only real solution they had found was long lost. "I guess I can try," he yawned.

  "And yes, you shall. Even if it doesn't fix your problem, the spirit well will still do your spirit good. We would need it that way."

  "Why? Are you going to send me to fight Lords?" Ziel asked sarcastically.

  "Exactly."

  Ziel shifted to staring again.

  "Remember the Uncrowned tournament?" The Beast King asked, raising an eyebrow. "Care for a second chance?"

  Ziel's thoughts whirled, and for a moment, he had hope. "The Monarchs can fix me," he muttered.

  The Beast King nodded in agreement.

  Then Ziel remembered that he would likely need to reach the upper rankings to win such a prize. "Or I'll die," he sighed. "And I'm not an underlord."

  The Herald shrugged. "They'll allow it. The other factions have agreed to allow you to go into Ghostwater as a Truegold-powered Sacred artist."

  "Hmm," Ziel hummed.

  "And a Lord of a sect needs his servants, of course," the Beast King added.

  "Let me guess," Ziel replied. "The boy and the girl. And you want me to help them advance in Ghostwater."

  The Beast King nodded. "And since we have permission from the Monarch, he had given us some benefits to make your journey... ehh less tiring."

  Ziel sighed again. "I guess I'll do it."

  "Thank you. Sunda will have wanted this."

  Ziel's eyes widened slightly at the mention of the Garuda. He nodded slowly. "I guess I can do this for her."

  "So," the Beast King clapped his hands. "How are the two? I sensed Whitehall has advanced."

  Ziel lay flat on the ground. He was tired and felt this conversation would take long, so he decided he might as well sleep here.

  "They work well as a team, but they are weak. Sadi has horrible offensive techniques, while Whitehall has horrible defensive techniques. His iron body is a burden."

  The Beast King nodded in agreement. "Only for now."

  Ziel closed his eyes and continued. "I don't get it. Why not send someone to teach them their path? Why leave them to make it out on their own?"

  "I thought about it," The Beast King replied. "But Sunda had told me to let them discover it independently."

  "I disagree, but alright then," Ziel shrugged. His eyes were heavy, and he would very much like to never open them again.

  "Oh, I almost forgot," the Herald exclaimed.

  Ziel opened his eyes and gazed accusingly at the Beast King. He was sure the Herald was raising his voice on purpose to make him suffer.

  "Remember how I said the Monarch had given us some benefits," the Herald continued, pulling out three jewels. Blue and green light reflected off of them. "It took a while to track down, but their locations made it quick."

  Ziel did not know what those stones were and how they would help them. He closed his eyes and returned his head to the soft ground.

  "Ahem," the Beast King cleared his throat. "Have you heard about the best trash left in that pocket realm? Why is it now called Ghostwater?

  Slowly, inch by inch, Ziel opened one eye.