As Orvell and Minerva continued their journey after leaving Raven to handle Cloverville, they stumbled upon multiple sets of footprints—tracks left by a marching army. Based on the patterns and sheer number, Orvell speculated that there had to be at least a hundred soldiers, likely Behem’s forces led by his third-in-command.
To confirm their suspicions, Minerva cast a spell, conjuring a ghostly reenactment of past events. In the shimmering vision, they saw Zion Kos addressing the gathered army. Minerva’s eyes narrowed as she noticed the ring on his finger—a symbol she immediately recognized. “He’s a mage from Casted Stones,” she murmured. Casted Stones was a city known for harboring powerful magic users—high-ranking adventurers who either retired there or joined prestigious guilds. The sight of someone from Casted Stones outside its borders was unsettling. Magic users of that caliber rarely ventured beyond their sanctuaries, let alone allied themselves with someone like Behem.
As night fell, Orvell and Minerva set up camp. Orvell took the first watch while Minerva rested, but when it was her turn, she found herself captivated by the serene night sky. The peace, however, was short-lived. A rustling in the underbrush caught her attention.
Minerva’s instincts kicked in as she swiftly summoned her wand from thin air. “Show yourself!” she commanded.
The voice startled the intruder, who immediately bolted deeper into the woods. Without hesitation, Minerva pursued, weaving through trees and leaping over fallen logs. The fleeing figure retaliated, launching glowing magical projectiles in her direction. With precise flicks of her wand, Minerva deflected each incoming attack while closing the gap.
Determined to stop the intruder, she cast a cuffing spell, aiming for their leg. With a calculated flick of her wrist, the spell found its mark, conjuring enchanted shackles around the figure’s ankle. The intruder tumbled forward, but even as they hit the ground, they continued casting weak projectiles in desperation. Minerva swatted them aside effortlessly and, with another flick of her wand, bound the intruder’s wrists together.
Stepping forward, she pointed her wand at them and demanded, “Who are you?”
Silence.
Minerva narrowed her eyes. Reaching down, she yanked back the hood, and her breath hitched in surprise. A goblin. But not just any ordinary goblin—one who had clearly been working under Zion Kos.
“I assume you serve Zion,” she stated coldly. “Am I correct?”
The goblin glared at her, lips curled into a sneer, refusing to speak. Minerva leaned in closer, her tone sharp and threatening. “Talk, or I’ll make you wish you had.”
The goblin finally hissed out a response. “Lord Behem is waiting for you and your precious Orvell to fall. But he wants Orvell to witness my master’s true potential first.”
Minerva’s grip on her wand tightened. “Where is Zion?”
The goblin let out a harsh, rasping laugh. “Zion is everywhere.” His grin widened, malice glinting in his eyes. “And he knows exactly where you are. You can’t stop what’s coming.”
Ignoring his taunts, Minerva searched the goblin’s belongings and found a map marked with a location—Zion’s camp. A rare stroke of luck. With a flick of her wrist, she ended the goblin’s life in a swift, decisive motion.
Wasting no time, she sprinted back to camp and shook Orvell awake. “We have a problem,” she said breathlessly, quickly explaining everything.
Orvell’s expression darkened. “So they’re hunting us.”
Minerva nodded. “Yes—but they don’t know we’re aware of their plans. That gives us the upper hand.”
“For now,” Orvell muttered, already preparing for what was to come.
With Zion Kos on their trail, time was no longer on their side.
Minerva and Orvell, hot on the trail of Zion and his goblin cronies, consulted their slightly-mud-stained map. "Alright, let's see...X marks the spot...or, well, should mark the spot," Minerva muttered, squinting at the crude drawing. A few scrawny goblins, looking more like they'd raid a pantry than a village, ambled into view. "Looks like we've got a welcoming committee," Orvell quipped, drawing his sword with a practiced flourish. "Don't worry, I'll try not to make too much of a mess," Minerva added with a wry grin, her hand already crackling with arcane energy. The goblins, bless their pointed little ears, didn't stand a chance.
The campsite, when they finally reached it, was eerily deserted. "Well, that's just great," Orvell sighed. "Looks like we missed the party." Minerva, however, had a hunch. "Hold on a sec," she said, muttering an incantation. A shimmering, purple haze washed over the clearing, revealing...a small army of wizard goblins, cunningly camouflaged! "Sneaky little buggers," Orvell chuckled.
Eavesdropping on their chatter, they learned that Zion and his top six goons had headed to the Cave of Dire to, and I quote, "persuade the big scary beastie to join our totally awesome army." "Sounds like a fun family outing," Minerva deadpanned. "Let's go pay them a visit."
The journey to the cave was, shall we say, interesting. They ran into more of Zion's elite guard – goblins who could sling spells faster than you could say "goblin stew." "These guys are a bit more than your average looters," Orvell grunted, deflecting a volley of magical darts. Minerva, her eyes flashing, retorted, "Don't worry, darling, I've got this." And she did.
After the dust settled (and the goblins were... indisposed), Minerva examined one of their staves. "Huh," she mused. "This isn't human-made. And it's definitely not elven." Orvell peered over her shoulder. "What is it then, some newfangled goblin tech?" Minerva shook her head. "Worse. I haven't seen anything like this since...well, since Malice's defeat. This is Rangker craftsmanship, from Gall."
"That's impossible!" Orvell exclaimed. "The Rangker haven't been seen in ages!" Minerva, her expression grim, explained, "This staff proves they're still around—and that Malice's influence is far from gone." She carefully stowed the staff crystal in her pouch. "This needs further investigation. Later. If we have a later."
They pressed on, encountering (and dispatching) a few more elite goblins along the way. As twilight approached, they picked up the pace. "We don't want to be caught out here after dark," Orvell said, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Things get really nasty around here when the sun goes down."
Reaching the cave entrance, the stench of goblin and…something else…was overpowering. "Ugh," Minerva wrinkled her nose. "What died in here?" She conjured a flaming orb to light their way. Inside, they faced giant spiders the size of ponies (Orvell's fire-enchanted sword made short work of them) and scaledrins, reptilian humanoids that exploded spectacularly when hit with shock magic (Minerva's specialty).
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Their supplies were running dangerously low. "Just enough to get us out," Orvell noted grimly. "So, what's this 'dire creature' Behem wants so badly?"
Minerva launched into an explanation about dire creatures – magical hybrids, often with dire wolf blood, possessing enhanced abilities and a nasty disposition. "And don't ask me how they become dire," she added quickly. "It's…best not to know." She paused. "My guess? A dire kodie. They're huge, cave-dwelling, and about as friendly as a cornered badger. Oh, and they can talk. And use magic."
Orvell's eyes widened. "Talk? Magic? So, you're saying we're about to have a conversation with a giant, magical, talking badger-wyvern?"
Minerva shrugged. "Pretty much." Orvell sighed. "Well, I hope it's a polite badger-wyvern."
As the pair continued walking through the cave, Orvell turned to Minerva with a smirk. “Just like old times, yeah? I remember when you were just an advanced adventurer.”
Minerva chuckled. “Those were some good times.”
The conversation, however, stirred memories of Orvell’s beloved wife, Beatrice. Sensing the shift in his expression, Minerva placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “She’s in a better place now, Orvell. And if anything, she’d be proud of how far you’ve come—to protect not just your home, but the entire realm of Grass Mark.”
Orvell smiled faintly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t just focus on the loss… She would have wanted me to see this through.”
Their moment of reflection was cut short when they noticed an eerie glow up ahead. Alarmed, they exchanged glances, knowing they were at the heart of the cave. As they moved cautiously forward, voices and low growls echoed through the cavern.
Minerva narrowed her eyes. “Seems like they couldn’t get the dire Kodie on their side.”
Peering into the open chamber, they saw Zion Kos and his six elite guards struggling to subdue a massive beast. The dire Kodie, a towering creature of fur and fury, roared in defiance as the guards tried to restrain it.
“That’s no badger,” Orvell muttered.
Minerva smirked. “Well, the name ‘Kodie’ kind of gives it away.”
The two watched as the elite guards failed to capture the beast. Then, Zion stepped forward and effortlessly slapped a headpiece onto the Kodie’s head, a gem embedded at its center pulsing with sinister energy. The creature immediately went rigid before collapsing.
“Alright, you goons, let’s get this thing back to camp,” Zion commanded. “This beast will be a fine advantage in the war.”
As he turned to leave, a crackling magic projectile shot past his face. He paused mid-step, then chuckled.
“Minerva?” he said, looking toward the only exit, now blocked by Minerva and Orvell. “The great witch of the Spellcast Forest, master of the dark arts.” He smirked. “What an honor.”
Zion motioned to his elite wizard goblins, and they rushed forward. Minerva and Orvell wasted no time, tearing through the goblins with precision and ease. As the last one fell, Zion clapped slowly, mockingly.
“Not bad. No wonder Behem is worried you two might ruin his grand scheme.”
Minerva’s eyes burned with intensity. “A high wizard like you, working for Behem? Why?”
Zion laughed. “For fun. I got bored of the same old routine. Behem offered me excitement, a chance to break free from the monotony. And when he presented me with the Monster Heart… well, how could I refuse? Once he ascends as the Star of Grass Mark, I’ll be granted an endless supply of them.”
Orvell clenched his fists. “We’re stopping you here.”
He drew his hilt, and with a flash, his magic blade materialized, glowing a brilliant yellow. His magic kite shield shimmered into place. Minerva summoned her wand from thin air, ready to fight.
“Let’s make this quick, Minerva. We can’t waste time—Behem’s growing stronger by the second.”
Minerva nodded, and the battle erupted.
Orvell charged in, engaging Zion up close while Minerva provided ranged support. Zion, however, proved to be an exceptional wizard, effortlessly casting spells while multitasking between both opponents. Dark, writhing tentacles burst from the ground, lashing at Orvell while simultaneously blocking Minerva’s attacks.
Orvell dodged, slashed, and countered each strike while Minerva ensured his stamina didn’t wane, all while bombarding Zion with relentless magic projectiles. But Zion was relentless, his energy seemingly limitless. The battle stretched on for what felt like hours, neither side gaining the upper hand.
Panting, Orvell leaped back, assessing their situation. “This isn’t working. He’s not even tired.”
Minerva could sense Zion’s magic pressure—an overwhelming wellspring of mana. There was no way to overpower him. They had to outthink him.
Orvell cast a speed enchantment on himself and rushed forward. He swung his blade in a downward arc, but Zion effortlessly blocked and countered, sending Orvell crashing backward with a pulse of energy.
Zion smirked. “Pathetic.”
He summoned an undead knight to keep Orvell occupied, forcing Minerva to take the offensive. She tapped into her dark magic, unleashing devastating projectiles and area-of-effect spells. Zion, however, was fast—faster than any wizard she had faced before. He countered every attack, conjuring elemental projectiles in mere seconds, colliding them with her dark magic in explosive bursts.
Minerva gritted her teeth and shifted tactics. Summoning a dark magic sword from her wand, she closed the distance, striking at Zion with relentless precision. Yet, his reflexes were impeccable—every attack was met with a perfectly timed spell.
Then, in a moment of distraction, Zion cast a shackle spell, binding Minerva’s wrists mid-swing.
“Got you,” Zion sneered.
He stepped back and spun his staff in a circular motion. Above him, a massive beam of light began forming, humming with deadly energy. Minerva struggled against her restraints, realizing too late that she was trapped.
Zion grinned. “Goodbye, witch.”
The beam descended. Minerva barely had time to conjure a barrier, but she knew it wouldn’t hold. As cracks spider-webbed across her shield, she braced for the inevitable.
Then—
Orvell slammed his magic kite shield in front of her, intercepting the blast.
“Orvell!” Minerva gasped.
Through gritted teeth, Orvell turned to her. “The quest isn’t over yet.”
Zion’s eyes widened. “Impossible! A basic adventurer like you shouldn’t be able to withstand that spell!”
As the smoke cleared, Orvell stood firm. He exhaled sharply, then looked Zion dead in the eye.
“I guess Behem forgot to mention one thing,” he said. “I’m not just an adventurer. I’m the first to reach Rank One Hundred. And the first-ever Mystic Knight.”
Fear flickered in Zion’s gaze. He fired a flurry of elemental projectiles, but Orvell deflected them all, sprinting toward him with unrelenting determination.
Minerva, now freed from the shackle spell, saw her opening. She cast a dark spell enchantment on Orvell’s sword, amplifying its strength.
Zion panicked, throwing up a magic barrier just in time to block Orvell’s incoming strike. The cavern shook as sword met shield, shockwaves bursting outward. Zion poured every ounce of mana into reinforcing his barrier, but Orvell’s raw strength, enhanced by Minerva’s magic, was too much.
Cracks splintered across Zion’s shield.
“No… NO!” Zion roared, forcing more mana into the barrier.
But it was futile.
With a final push, Orvell’s enchanted blade shattered the barrier and pierced through Zion’s chest. The wizard gasped, eyes wide with shock, blood dripping from his lips.
Orvell withdrew his sword, letting Zion slump to the ground, lifeless.
For a moment, the cave was silent. Then Orvell turned to Minerva with a tired smile.
“Just like old times, yeah?”
Minerva let out a breathless chuckle. “Yeah… just like old times.”