“Ya realize if that Dullahan bastard spots ya here, we’re all bleedin’ cooked, don’tcha?” barked the familiar orc blacksmith as she slammed her shutters and bolted her doors. “Soldiers’ve been patrollin’ all higgledy-piggledy since some sod gave Dullahan the slip. Wonder who that might be, hmm?” she finished with a low, menacing growl, still fussing over every latch and lock.

I’d been perched on her workbench for a few minutes, struggling to catch my breath. My whole body throbbed after being pursued not once, but twice by murderous monsters.

Sorry, Ichni, I’ll try to be progressive– one was a monster, the other was one very angry j’ana– but that doesn’t change the fact that both had wanted me super fucking dead. Between the demon frog and the armory-on-legs hit man, I almost found myself longing for a second round with the frogfiend—at least that thing didn’t come with a private army at its beck and call. Hell, I was the one that had the numbers, thanks to Command Undead!

Stealing the time to appreciate life’s fleeting embraces, I took stock of the loot before me. On the bench before me lay the cane and that grisly skeletal hand adorned with three rings. Now that I finally had a moment, I carefully slid each ring free and lined them up. One might’ve been a wedding band, and that thought gave me a queasy pang of guilt—grave-robbing wasn’t exactly heroic. I propped my chin on my elbow, wrestling with my uneasy conscience.

The cane appeared to be fashioned from polished red wood, cherry-like in hue and about four feet in length. It could’ve passed for either a noble’s swaggering prop or a mage’s staff. Its base ended in a silver tip, while the top bore a steel claw clutching a milky white gem. By torchlight, I swore I saw wispy fog swirling within the jewel, like a stormcloud imprisoned in crystal.

The first ring was a simple steel band, its pattern twisted like coiled wire. The second, this one containing a fat diamond and several smaller ones, was presumably proof of his marriage and lecherous adultery with that psychotic maid. The third was curious: a plain obsidian band with no adornments whatsoever, yet chillingly cool to the touch. Its simplicity was almost unsettling.

“Now I’ve got not one but two fugitives skulkin’ in me shop!” Quen ranted, stuffing random tools and scraps into a heavy sack. “One’s a traitor, says the posters, and the other’s a traitor who snatched up the first traitor. What kinda rotten luck is this? What in the blazing pits did I get meself into?”

“I’m sorry, Quen—” I began, only to be cut off by a fierce shushing gesture. She wasn’t angry at us specifically, I could tell, but she needed to vent like a boiling kettle about to whistle.

Ichni, meanwhile, toyed with a polished lump of ore Quen had smelted earlier. She phased her hand just enough to nudge it rolling across the bench, then waved her other hand to halt it. The racket and tension barely fazed her; it was as if scenes like this were everyday background noise to the princess-turned-ghost, and she busied herself with simple amusements.

“Remind me—why d’ya wanna trek off to the Fire Shrine again? Ya wanted there before I even offered ta sword.” Quen asked, taking a deep breath as if logic might calm her nerves.

“I’m after the Element housed there, and so I can shatter the chains binding that light spirit,” I answered, repeating my grand quest’s outline.

“Are you mad?” She hissed, failing to calm down even a little.

“I’m fucking pissed, yeah.” I snapped, still seething after my run-in with Dullahan.

“Hi ‘mad,’ I’m ‘dad’—ah, damn, that joke doesn’t translate,” Ichni attempted, her pun falling flatter than the ore ball that just rolled off the table with a heavy thunk.

“Those chains’ve kept Demon King Malphas locked down for over a century,” Quen explained, bafflement edging out her anger. “Not a single soul’s come close to breakin’ them. So why waltz in and set ’im free?”

“Wait—are we discussing the same ‘chains’?” I asked, confused. “The Four-Lights mentioned each spirit was bound by a powerful chain only I can break. Ichni and now you talk about chains restraining the king. Are these the same set of chains or what?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re the same chains, Addy,” Ichni confirmed. “Ever look up and see those shining chains of light stretching from each shrine to Daemongard, the royal castle?”

“Daemongard? First I’ve heard the name… but wait…” I paused, recalling a faint line of light glimpsed near the water tower.

I remembered spotting a faint line of luminescence overhead, like cosmic chalk drawn across the heavens. Was that one of the very chains we were meant to break?

“So you meant it—freeing the spirits truly frees the Demon King?” I asked, the realization settling in my gut like a lead weight.

“Well, yeah, pakkha,” Ichni admitted, sounding a bit sheepish. “Why else would I bother helping you? Besides the obvious, I mean.”

“I knew you mentioned it,” I said, “but I didn’t realize it was so literal. Freeing the spirits means unleashing the Demon King? That’s a bigger risk than I bargained for.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation,” Ichni added. “Those chains also give him immense durability, like full-on invincibility level power. It’s kind of like he’s trapped in limbo, where he can’t die but he also can’t leave his spot. If you wanted to take my dad on, they were gonna have to go either way.”

I rubbed my face, feeling the weight of this revelation. This quest could drag on for months or years, and my main aim had been to restore my humanity and do some good deeds along the way. If helping the spirits freed a monstrous ruler, I’d be flipping heroism on its head. Would my cosmic “Guidance Guy” reward me for accidentally unleashing the ultimate evil? Probably not.

“Before I took up the hammer decades ago,” Quen cut into my brooding to get back on subject, “I worked in the Makka-Makka Mines where the Fire Shrine’s located. That place is under Lieutenant Bernie One-Hander’s thumb, remember? I warned ya about that dolt earlier.”

“Right, the minotaur foreman you both consider a ruthless moron,” I said nervously. He was supposed to have stalled Dullahan, but that obviously didn’t pan out.

“He may be thick as a plank, but he’s tough as old boots,” Quen continued. “He’s screwed up countless times, yet still ranks among the Demon King’s trusted minions. When I first met ya both, I thought you were bonkers—and I still do. I’ve seen people brave enough to challenge his majesty, and champions that tried to change the system from within. But never have I seen a loon like you, so hell-bent on bein’ a hero.”

“Well, it was sort of my thing before, y’know.” I said with a goofy smile. “I fell from the ranks quite a bit, so I’m not actually ‘hero material’ just yet, but I’ve started from scratch before. I know the work it takes, and I won’t give up until I’m dust or victorious.”

“That’s what’s drivin’ me mad!” Quen hollered, voice crackling with energy. “Ya carry that blasted confidence as if ya could pull off the impossible, even though ya look like ya should be housed in a mausoleum, no offense!”

“None taken,” I said, shrugging. “Been called worse.”

“Mostly by me!” Ichni teased, causing me to arch an eyebrow.

“Even as a shrimpy husk, ya got fire,” Quen admitted, grinning broadly. She rested a hammer across the back of her shoulders. “It’s infectious, lad, makes me feel like I’m watchin’ a legend-in-the-making!”

“An unlikely hero risen from the grave, striving against all odds for the smiles of his—” I began, only for Ichni and Quen to pull identical grimaces.

“Too cheesy,” Ichni muttered, and Quen nodded vigorously.

“Anyway,” Quen continued, nodding at the cane and rings, “dunno what half that rubbish does, but it’s from the so-called ‘dungeon’ I promised to reward, innit?”

“It is!” I said, excitement creeping back into my voice.

Suddenly, a crackling sound erupted from outside the shop, as though a booming voice radiated from the sky like a displeased god.

“Attention, attention,” came a deep, snarling growl. Dullahan.

“As many of you are well aware, I, Lieutenant Dullahan, the loyal left hand of his majesty, has been on a quest for justice. Justice against those that threaten the crown.” He went on, earning a groan from the princess.

“Ugh, he’s gonna monologue, isn’t he?” She grumbled.

“I’m sure some of you may be wondering why I call to the entire town of Aratan Villa, and that is simply because there is a TRAITOR lurking in your midst. One who has committed the heinous act of rebelling against the crown, kidnapping the royal princess, and CULINARY DESECRATION.” The looming voice went on.

“Great, now the bagel is a crime to my list? What punishment is that, death?” I hurled at no one in particular.

“The punishment for all three is DEATH. The person in question, a particularly ugly ghoul in rusted armor, is hiding in your town, kind citizens. Undead knight, I know you can hear me.” He paused for dramatic effect. “You have one hour to meet me outside the western gate to face your punishment with honor and dignity intact. If you don’t… I’ll raze this town to the very ground it sits on.”

The threat was with clear intent by the cold drawl of his voice as he uttered it, but it was still shocking how willing he was going in order to find me. It sent me shivers as though I had felt his baleful gaze.

“I do offer forgiveness, knight. You hold a very important figure dear to my heart. If you come with knees bent and her highness offered, I may offer… penance. The choice is yours.” The booming voice crackled out of existence, and I could hear frantic shouting and screaming in the distance. He just sentenced the entire town to die unless I appeared in front of this foul monster of a dreadlord.

“I don’t like this guy,” I finally admitted through clenched teeth.

“Finally caught on, have we?” Ichni quipped, voice dripping with mockery, her expression as rigid as carved stone.

“A knight’s duty is to his people, yet this so-called lieutenant would slaughter everyone over a petty grudge?” I demanded. “Where’s the honor in that? What dignity is left if he murders innocent townsfolk just to bait me out?”

“Could be he’s bluffin’,” Quen grunted, uncertain. “But what if he ain’t? What if yer life’s worth tradin’ to spare all these folks to Dullahan?”

“We won’t test that theory,” I said firmly. “Quen, we had a deal. Arm me properly, and I’ll face him head-on.”

“Oh, lad, you’ll be gettin’ more than my prized blade,” Quen said with a mighty grin. “I got somethin’ else here too you might fancy. Been working on it since ya left.”

She walked over to a mannequin draped in a sheet, and tore the cloth off. Ichni gasped audibly, while my own mouth hung loose in awe.

Oh, heavens yes.

* * *

Stepping out of Quen’s forge, I found the streets awash in chaos. Villagers ran and screamed, guards wrestled to contain the crowd, children wailed, and someone had inexplicably ignited a small fire. A toppled torch post lay in the dirt. Barely ten minutes had passed since Dullahan’s ultimatum, and pandemonium was already in full swing.

I now stood there with a new set of chainmail armor, refitted by Quen to protect me. It was much lighter than my old set, rust and all, and she even took the liberty of customizing it, creating small discolored indentions where the holes on my old set used to be.

“It stood out so much I figured it could be yer callin’ card!” she’d joked earlier, as I inspected the odd patches. Her tone suggested pride, as if those blemishes now defined my personal brand.

She also bequeathed to me the Aether Blade, the magical shortsword that could unlock new forms once I acquired an Element. While not entirely impressive in its normal form, its blue steel glowed with a mystical power before I sheathed it and equipped it to the back of my belt.

Wrapped in a dark brown cloak, I surveyed the mayhem. Two familiar guards hurried over, and I instinctively reached for my blade. They raised their hands, signaling peace, and I let my grip relax.

“Oi, mate, you catch wind of that whoppin' bit of news, then?” barked the gray wolf-man guard, clearly on edge.

“We were worried about you when he called you out,” added the Shiba-man guard, his voice still holding that oddly smooth timbre.

“Yeah, your lieutenant’s gunning for me,” I said grimly. “I suppose you’re here on orders to…?”

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“Cor blimey! He might be the lieutenant, but it's us lot wot’s 'ere to keep the town safe!” the gray wolf said, waving his arms. “We know full well you ain’t done nothin’ dodgy!"

“He had us put wanted posters of you up, but we took them down already,” Shiba-man added quietly. “We know you’ve helped the town since you arrived.”

“Oh. Oh geez, guys…” I mumbled, at a loss for words.

“It’s all right, mate! I reckon you get it, but we need you to go and have a chinwag with ‘im! If you don’t, it’ll be a proper mess for the whole lot of us!" The gray wolf went on, punching me in the shoulder. “If you tackle ‘im like you tackled me bleedin’ quiz, it’ll be a doddle! I’ve got faith in ya, mate!”

I caught maybe a third of his slang, but his kind eyes spoke volumes. I nodded, grateful for their faith.

“Stay safe, or we’ll fret over ya,” said the Shiba-man, patting my shoulder. “Good luck, and remember—we’re on your side.”

“Give ‘im a right proper wallop, mate! That’ll knock some sense into ‘im!” Gray wolf-man added, wagging his tail frantically.

I turned toward the main thoroughfare stretching to the western gate—my final destination. With a nervous swallow, I mustered what courage I had and set off toward near-certain doom.

“Are you scared, Adrian?” Ichni whispered from her glove.

“I am,” I confessed, my honesty stark. “But I’m more scared of what will happen if we don’t face him and settle this. I can’t lose—I won’t lose.”

It was triggering painful memories as I began my pace. It felt as though I was walking through time, when I was leading my Holy Knights through the gate to face their own deaths. This time, however, it was purely my own neck on the line, with Ichni’s fate resting in our efforts. Even the prayer that I held in my lips was the same. Protect us… protect the princess. I felt my brows furl as I realized that the days of cowardice would have to take a backseat. Spineless or no, I wasn’t charging blindly this time. I knew the exact stakes.

“It’s okay, I’m a little scared too.” She said with a nervous pace to her voice. “There’s no telling what he might do. Don’t worry though, Addy. I’ll be right here with you.”

“Because you’re stuck with me in a moldy glove?” I teased weakly.

“Well, that too, but that’s what friends do.” She replied, and I could almost feel her smirk.

“Since when were we friends? At most, I figured we were professional adventuring pals.” I asked.

She scoffed. “Oh please, you’ve listened to me more than the entire castle combined. Hell knows I’ve found a soft spot to tolerate your stupid grin now and then.”

“Guess we’re even, then,” I said lightly. As I neared the gate, townsfolk noticed me—some with fear, others in stunned admiration at my choice to meet Dullahan. I blocked them out, focusing on the banter with Ichni.

“I once told myself I’d pawn you off if you annoyed me too much, but I doubt I could shake you that easily now,” I admitted. “We’re an odd pair, aren’t we?”

“What– get rid of me, or the glove?” she teased. “You’re lucky you’re the first one to have found me. An esteemed princess like myself usually gets to be picky on her appointed knights!”

“Well, pardon me, Your Highness!” I shot back. “Need I remind you it was me who rescued you from becoming eternal forest décor and turned you into a mobile menace? You were able to go from crime scene to crime machine thanks to me!”

“Oh please, you act like I didn’t break any laws when I was alive. Remember me mentioning my wild nights with Hilda?” she asked.

“Right, you were drinking pals, or something along those lines?” I inquired, intrigued. A crowd was gathering around and behind us at this point, but no one actually approached me as I reached the middle of town.

“Devils, I wish I could drink now!” she lamented. “But yeah, back when I had a pulse, I’d sneak out of the castle whenever possible.” She appeared beside me, startling nearby onlookers. They might’ve expected a somber march to doom; we looked more like old friends gossiping on a stroll.

“Until… you got caught doing something and you got banned from alcohol.” I concluded.

She snorted at this. “Since when did a royal decree of prohibition ever stop someone?”

“Okay…” I mused, imagining the mischief a tipsy princess could stir up. “So what exactly got you in deep trouble?”

“Well!” Ichni declared, as though she was already loading the story like a bullet into a gun. “It started with these enormous statues my father had built at the castle gates…”

“Alright.” I prodded on.

“Well, my web is verrrry flexible. Almost elastic. So if I connect two objects together…” She motioned me to finish.

“You got yourself a slingshot?” I suggested.

“Bingo! But let me do the storytelling. You’ve got a knack for grunting, let’s stick to that for the moment.” She said in a sarcastic tone.

I looked at her in defiance, but kept silent after a dismissive grunt.

“Subba,” she continued dramatically. “So me, Hilda and the girls make this GIANT slingshot, and we’re pulling it back further and further. Once I let go of the ground– WHOOSH!” She swept her arms in a grand arc, miming something akin to a boulder soaring skyward.

“Sounds like—” I attempted to interject, but she pressed a finger to her lips.

“Shh! Tuhn bhavaha!” she hissed irritably, silencing me again.

I sighed, grunted in submission, and sat at a bench to let her continue. The growing crowd of people kept their distance as they, too, began to listen to this wild tale.

“Anyhow, the harpies are flying, I’m flying, I’m pretty sure a naga guard gave it a shot!” She went on. “But I made one teensy teeny-tiny error.”

“Oh, I know this part!” piped up a voice. I glanced around to see Hilda, the harpy mail-carrier, apparently rested and curious, joining the gathering throng. She motioned to Ichni to continue while giving a smug grin, as though the ending in her mind left her in delight.

“My web? Super strong, and when I’m pulling it, it’s like a winch, even if I got sticks for arms. Eventually, one of the statues gives way.” She said, with a devilish smirk. She seemed to be enjoying the attention. It felt like even the guards were walking in for the chance to listen to the tale now.

“Oh no!” Someone cried out at the story. I grunted in surprise to add to this.

“Ohhhhh yes! This is a huge statue, mind you. Took three years to build one, a hundred feet tall. The Cryotect herself made the initial plans.” She said with amazing detail to the building drama. She was like a seasoned storyteller building tension at this point.

“Who’s the Cryotect?” I asked, but I earned myself even more shushes, this time from the crowd. Guess it was storytime, not question time.

“Natti, later! So, it snapped at the legs and flung through the gate, past me, and halfway to the castle itself. When father found out, he was FURIOUS.” She said, proud of her wild misdeed. She was practically basking in the crowd’s shock, murmurs and gasps rolling in waves.

“How furious was he?” Someone chimed in, trying to stroke the story.

“He was livid. His voice was so angry that I bet you even the villagers here could hear it! ‘Ichni, we decorated the castle with the finest works of art, and you just turned it into a playground as a joke!’ he roared.” She said, trying to imitate her apparently bass-toned father.

“And what did you say?” Someone asked from a different part of the crowd. Apparently they could ask questions, but the guy on death row could only pretend he was a caveman!

“I was like, ‘Well, it was the statue of Captain Onshi, and he’s already a joke! At least he was useful for a laugh!’” She finished, chuckling to herself. The crowd broke into a mixture of fruitful and anxious laughter in return.

“You might be kidding around, but that statue is STILL on the ground. Never could fix it, and thus, the royal decree was born. ‘Hear ye, hear ye! Prithee a dark day for anyone that gives the princess fine booze!’” She said, amping up the ending of the story. A round of applause came from the mob, and even a rose was thrown in by my feet. Climmard, who was now also a part of the crowd, finished the story with a great finale of his guitar.

“That was quite the story!” I finally declared, as I rose back to my feet. She smiled from ear to ear, as though the story got her spirits back, forgive the pun.

“Love to tell that story. If I ever get my webshot powers back, I’ll show you what it’s like!” She said excitedly.

“I don’t know if I should worry or not!” I said with my own nervous smile.

“Oh santha, I won’t be drinking! Ghost body! No alcohol allowed, see?” She motioned to herself, as though I had forgotten the state she was in.

“That’s not what I’m worried about!” I huffed, exasperated.

With the afterthought of Ichni’s story fading from memory, I looked at the people around us, who were beginning to return their gaze to me with both anxiety and expectancy. I knew they were worried about themselves, but I couldn’t help but worry about them too.

“Listen, everyone,” I began softly, “I know what Dullahan threatened.”

“The part where we are all gonna die?!” One interjected.

“The part where you’re in danger if I don’t go and face him.” I corrected the stranger.

“You needn’t worry,” I continued wistfully, my voice soft. “I’ve done my part for this place. I’ve watched some of you grow.”

“It’s only been a week,” Ichni muttered under her breath, but I pressed on, ignoring her remark.

“In dark times like these, we can’t give weight to the fears in our hearts.” I went on. “Give value to those who love you, and cherish your time with them. Use that to make the best of times. A day like this will come and go, but those memories? Those are forever.”

A quiet murmur rippled through the crowd, some nodding in hesitant agreement to my holy scripture platitudes.

“When I’m gone, it may feel like nothing changed,” I continued. “But I beg you—remember. Something did happen.”

“This crowd alone is a rarity,” I added with a wry smile. “Even if it was to listen to Ichni’s story about making a drunken fool of herself.”

“Hey!” Ichni snapped, drawing a few chuckles.

“You’re all in this together. Whether it’s as a town or as a people, demon or otherwise; strive to be the best you can be. As a community.” I finished, prompting scattered cheers.

“Now, I’m off to face my imminent defeat!” I shouted, somehow joyously despite the connotations. “Climmard, give me a song to march to battle to!”

Climmard, as if destined for this role, plucked his strings, launching into a whimsical ballad. The crowd followed along, transforming my grim pilgrimage into a bizarre parade. As I headed toward the gate, his jaunty melody underscored every step toward fate.

Oh, there goes the ghoul, once in his armor of rust,

With a wobble, a rattle, and a trail of dust.

From Aratan Villa, so cozy and grand,

He’s off to make his final stand.

To where, you ask, does he march for death?

To what poor fate will he give his last breath?

Beyond the gates yonder, of the town he grew fonder,

His battle with Dullahan is the only tale that’s left!

O’, brave undead knight!

Give him your greatest fight!

Give him hell on our behalf!

Though there is no room, for your certain doom,

We surely had shared a laugh!

By now, half the town had gathered—what started as frightened villagers transformed into something like my personal pep rally. Randy the barkeep strolled up and handed me a frothy beer, which I downed so fast the crowd whooped like I’d just set a drinking record. Someone draped a fragrant lei of flowers over my shoulders, as if I were some undead champion heading to a luau in hell. Upon reaching Madam Bagel’s place, she presented a pristine Headless Ham & Cheese Bagel Sandwich, practically anointing me with culinary grace before my final showdown. I devoured it in three massive bites, silently lamenting that it didn’t come with a “+10 to not-dying” buff attached.

As I approached the opened palisade, I saw the demon in question far off in the distance. Though he was just a tiny dot from my point of view, I could still tell that he stood menacing on a hill near the dirt road, glaring at me. Even from afar, he radiated bad news. But hey, I still had about thirty minutes until my scheduled “execution extravaganza,” so no need to hurry, right? I focused on summoning my best “hero face,” which mostly meant furrowing my brow and trying not to look like I was about to wet myself.

Ichni, wanting her part in the speeches for the final battle, began to rev up her words of encouragement as I walked through the gate. She cleared her throat dramatically:

“Hear me, oh kingdom! It is I, your beloved Princess Ichni vi Daemon! On this glorious occasion, I—”

But before she could finish her grand intro, the crowd started peeling away like they’d just remembered they left the stove on. “Heyyyyy~! Waaaait~!” she howled, voice cracking. “Don’t leave yet! I didn’t get to my inspirational quote section!”

I spun around to find my once-adoring audience fleeing like I’d announced free tax audits. Doors slammed, shutters rattled, and the iron gate dropped behind me as if the town decided “Nope, we’re done here.” The guards themselves vanished faster than a mouse at a cat convention.

From somewhere in the distance, a lone voice called, “Good luck, sending you thoughts and prayers!”

“You bhayan traitors! You were just trying to kick us out!” Ichni screeched indignantly as she rattled the gates pointlessly, her arms sinking through them. “We’re out here, busting our butts, and you’re all just gonna run away?! You can’t just leave us ekā to die! What kind of good-for-nothing gāma sends out their ‘hero’ and then just pretends it's a bank holiday! Come on, j’ana~!”

“I know that word, it means ‘people’!” I chimed in, proud to decipher her demon-speak mid-tantrum. Ichni kept up her furious rant for another minute, then spat a sticky wad of web at the ground, huffing dramatically. With cheeks puffed like a grumpy squirrel, she finally turned back toward me.

“Hmph! Who needs ’em?” Ichni declared, arms crossed. “Let’s just skirt around Dullahan and let this town burn. They deserve it!”

I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure. And I’m Dullahan’s cousin. You don’t mean that,” I said calmly, calling her bluff.

“Ugh, fine! I wish I meant it, but whatever!” Ichni shrilled, the words climbing several octaves as her temper hissed. “Let’s find out what this gothic edgelord jackass drama-queen wants while I’m still simmering. It’s his fault we’re neck-deep in demon dung!”

“By all means, please direct all that venom at him,” I urged, as we trudged forward. Our final showdown with Dullahan loomed large. Nothing says ‘boss battle’ like a cursed knight, a ghostly princess with a foul mouth, and me—an undead hero who’d just had a beer and a bagel as my last rites.