Within minutes, they had joined the fray. It didn’t take long for the first wraith to attack, what appeared to be an Earth Elemental.

The wraith’s ethereal, boulder-like form oscillated as it approached. It was strange to see something so solid fade in and out of existence. The entity was at least eight feet tall, a collection of rocks and dirt held together by pure magic.

Justin activated Dandy’s Swagger, then switched his Affinity to Seraphis’ Clarity for the evasion boost.

He fell in beside Eldrin, his cane finding purchase on the wraith’s lower half. His cane glowed at each point of impact. The Earth Elemental groaned, fading. Eldrin’s unenchanted longsword only found empty air, but Justin’s cane was still doing work. Each successful strike caused the wraith to reform.

Seeing Justin as the threat, it roared and surged forward, throwing him back. Justin arced through the air, landing hard on the rocky beach.

Before he could register the pain, he was surrounded by a bluish light, a shock of coldness running through his body. Kargan had healed him. It was as if no damage had been done at all.

The elemental shifted its attention to Kargan, who was working to set up a new ward. Lila threw her knives furiously. Enchanted as they were, they chipped away at the wraith, forcing it to remain solid and take more hits from Eldrin.

Justin rushed in to distract it from Kargan. His healing could not be interrupted. As Justin worked to command the wraith’s attention, Lila’s voice launched into a slow, resonant melody. It was deep, grounding, almost like the steady beat of a giant’s heart reverberating through the air.

As the song rose and fell, an unexpected wave of resilience settled over him, every note reinforcing his resolve like layers of steel. Even Kargan, whose healing spells had been waning, seemed emboldened. Justin was suddenly wrapped in a fresh aura of Sacrificial Armor, which would allow him to tank some hits from the elemental. Lila must have been fortifying Endurance, a smart move considering it would not only help him stand up to the Elemental, but it would aid Kargan’s healing and wards.

As they continued to fight, a flash of movement caught Justin’s eye. Baron Valdrik was advancing toward them, his lips moving as he spoke a spell into existence. A sudden rush of wind whipped up from his staff, coalescing into a small tornado that barreled straight into the Earth Wraith. It groaned, the air forcing its collection of floating rocks asunder, until the magical bonds could no longer contain it. Ghostly rocks flew in all directions as the rest of it crumbled into a fine, glowing powder.

Justin’s gaze locked with the Baron’s. Had the man just saved his life? It seemed they were working together, at least for now.

Valdrik leaped back into the fray, summoning a giant globe of water that doused a fire wraith. Never pausing, he formed new spells, all pouring from his lips in a rapid stream. An invisible barrier shimmered into place, deflecting an incoming blow. Then he shot a burst of freezing energy toward an advancing fire wraith, snuffing out its flame. Without pause, he summoned a jagged arc of lightning, which crackled through the air before a water wraith, leaving it stunned and sputtering.

The Baron’s mage—who had been shooting fireballs at them minutes ago—joined the Baron, along with the ranger. Gareth the Shadowblade fought nearby with his curved katana, his black cloak swirling. Though they fought with ferocity, none could match the Baron in prowess.

But for all that, and Justin’s party’s own minor contributions, there were still more wraiths. The Baron’s soldiers were falling in droves, while the fire wraiths were turning their rage toward the anchored ship, which was engulfed in flames in no time at all.

Justin had to wonder, if this was the end. It certainly felt like it.

That was when a notification appeared on his interface:

[Baron Valdrik has invited you to join his party. Do you accept?]

Justin frowned as Eldrin shouted above the din. “Do it! If we’re in the same party, he can’t attack us—same as we can’t attack him.”

Justin took a second to consider, then accepted with a mental push. The others followed suit.

Looking at his interface, Justin could see they were now a party of nine: the four of them plus Ryak, the Baron, and the three surviving members of Baron Valdrik’s party.

A chill ran down his spine as he scanned the list of names:

Gareth Everett, Level 26 Shadowblade with the Assassin Focus.

Wolfram Gravesong, Level 18 Ranger with the Hunter Focus.

Rothian Nightflame, Level 24 Sorcerer with the Pyromancer Focus. Of all the Baron’s men, he was the only one who wasn’t undead.

And at the top of the list…Dragomir Valdrik, Level 36 Lexicant with the Necromancy Focus.

That was all it allowed him to see, along with a small list of minor buffs he was getting from each party member.

The battle raged on. Justin and Eldrin struck at a Water Wraith, Justin using his cane to puncture its fluid while Kargan’s Knives of Fury forced the water apart. Gareth’s shadow-infused blade sliced through the air, Wolfram’s discs cut through the semi-solid forms of Earth Elementals, while Rothian launched walls of flame.

Valdrik himself was a whirlwind, moving with unnatural speed and grace. Clearly, he’d cast some sort of spell that made his move faster. His magic shifted in seamless, deadly arcs as he cut down wraiths with incantations that seemed to bend reality. The chilling strains of Vranthillis cants floated through the air. The Baron’s pale face was calm, as if this were no trouble for him.

Finally, they destroyed the last of the wraiths, each of which left behind ethereally glowing remains.

A notification flashed in Justin’s vision:

[1,500 Experience Gained! Your experience stands at 2094/2070. Level-up available!]

The weight of it hit him. Even with Valdrik’s group carrying much of the battle, the sheer level of these wraiths had to be somewhere near 30, given the level of the Vault. That had to be the reason for so much experience.

Justin and the others had only downed about two wraiths altogether. If he’d gotten this much experience, how much had Valdrik gained, considering he’d killed at least three-fourths of them? It was probably in the tens of thousands.

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An uneasy silence settled as the two groups faced each other. Ryak stepped forward, meeting Valdrik’s eye with a look that suggested wariness, but also respect. It would be a simple thing for Valdrik—Dragomir, Justin supposed—to boot them from the party and attack them.

For now, the Baron had other things on his mind. He glanced back at the inlet, the remains of his burning ship casting a dark orange glow across the ice and snow. The crackling fire illuminated his features in harsh relief, his sharp face almost demonic in the firelight.

Then he turned to Justin, his voice measured. “Well, it seems you were right. Just as you couldn’t leave, now neither can we.”

Ryak’s gaze was solemn. “That is the truth of this Vault. None who enter this island return. The only way out is to clear it.”

Valdrik’s gaze shifted to Ryak. “You must be the Qilungik that Bohemond mentioned.”

“That bastard,” Lila said. “He sold us out!”

“Was it any surprise?” Valdrik asked. “Despite their fanatical bluster for Arion, there is no honor among the Ashcrofts.”

“Did you kill him?” Justin asked.

“Would you have liked that?” Valdrik asked with a dark smile. “No, I let him leave with five crowns—a small price for his services.”

Justin shook his head. He shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d read Bohemond’s intentions like a book. But foolishly, perhaps, Justin had hoped for a better outcome. Bohemond had likely spied them heading northeast across the tundra. Once Valdrik had that information, he’d hired a ship and used magic to gain ground, despite the danger of the Ghostly Sea. He would have had to have found a way around Iceward Barrier, which guarded the bay in which Kaldrath was situation.

But if anyone could manage all that, it would have been Valdrik.

Wolfram stepped forward, his gaze murderous. It was more than their scuffle earlier; Justin had killed his bonded blood bat back in Drakendir. The ranger touched the satchel slung over his shoulder, filled with the bladed discs that had come so close to killing Justin.

“I say we rid ourselves of these nuisances,” Wolfram said, glancing toward Valdrik.

Gareth stood as still as death, his hand never leaving the hilt of his katana. His eyes were cold and blue, his skin cadaverous. This was Alistair’s murderer, Valdrik’s second in command. And for now, at least, he was content to remain silent.

The Baron half-turned his head to his sorcerer. “What’s your opinion, Rothian?”

The sorcerer stared at Justin with cunning brown eyes. He had a darker complexion than the fair-skinned Aranthians, his head was shaved bald, and his black cloak glowed subtly with some form of enchantment. When he answered, his voice was high for a man of his heft, his accent lilting. “This one is…interesting. What he did with his voice is like nothing I’ve ever seen. That he is only Level 10 is beyond belief.”

“Indeed,” Valdrik said, eyeing Justin closely. “It makes me wonder what other surprises he holds.”

“He’s dangerous,” Wolfram said. “I say we end things here and make our way back to the mainland.”

“My magic could do that,” Valdrik allowed, “but I’m concerned about this Vault.”

“As am I,” Rothian said. “If the Vault demands we clear it before we can leave the island, they may prove useful.”

Valdrik considered this, then nodded. “Precisely my thoughts.”

“We’re not clearing any Vault for you,” Lila snapped. “It’s Level 35. We’d be dead in minutes.”

Whatever number they had been expecting, it wasn’t that. They considered this in silence.

“I wasn’t going to suggest the four of you going alone,” Valdrik said. “That would be completely folly. Rather, we should work together to clear it. We destroyed many of these wraiths already. It will be some time before the Vault’s Magic replenishes them. Though it’s Level 35, the time to strike is now.”

“The Baron is right,” Ryak said. “It’s foolish to leave. The Vault won’t allow it. It’s killed many of my people in this way.”

“That’s how it is with some Vaults,” Valdrik said. “Especially the more dangerous ones. Once you get close enough, they have a certain gravity to them. They warp reality itself. Think of it as a sort of ‘Event Horizon.’ Once you cross it, you can’t turn back.” He winked at Justin. “You should be familiar with the term, Mr. Talemaker.”

The others looked at him curiously. Of course, Justin, being from Earth, knew about event horizons and black holes. The metaphor was apt, but of course, it would mean nothing to a native Erythian. The asshole was toying with him.

“If we’re going in, let’s get it over with,” Justin said.

Valdrik turned, his tone commanding. “Then I’ll lead. We’re here because of your mistakes. If we escape this, it’ll be because of my orders. Follow them without question.”

“Yeah, so you can send us to our deaths first,” Lila said.

Valdrik’s gaze narrowed. “Would you prefer another leader? Refuse, and you’re free to go your own way. I’m sure the Vault will be kind to you.”

Ryak stepped in, a note of diplomacy in his tone. “Let’s put aside our differences. We’ll need every advantage if we’re to survive.”

“Wisely spoken, Ryak,” the Baron said. Justin wasn’t sure if he’d learned the name from Bohemond, or if he’d gleaned it from the party menu.

Justin shot a quick glance at Valdrik. “And after the Vault? Do we walk free?”

Valdrik’s smile was as cold as the surrounding air. “Naturally.”

“Liar,” Lila spat.

He shot her an annoyed glance. “My patience wears thin. Are we going to argue all day, or are we going to do something about this Vault?”

No one responded. Even Eldrin was quiet.

“I’ll take your silence as assent. Follow me.”

Valdrik started toward the path leading into the glacier, weaving around the dead bodies as if they were nothing more than rocks. Eldrin kneeled and harvested some of the ethereal residue left behind by the wraiths.

“Elemental dust is a rare ingredient for both alchemy and enchanting,” he explained. “I can’t pass up the opportunity.”

He gathered the dust and put it in a small satchel, tucking it in his daypack.

Eldrin might have been thinking ahead to a future beyond the island. Justin inwardly commended his optimism. As they followed a suitable distance behind, Justin couldn’t feel anything but bewildered. At any moment, he realized Valdrik could decide to kick them from the party and end their lives. That he hadn’t already meant he intended to keep them alive for some purpose, even if it was just as meat shields.

If what Eldrin said was true, as long as they were in the same party, they couldn’t attack each other. But that didn’t mean Valdrik couldn’t indirectly attack, or perhaps allow a party member to die by holding back help.

The march in the crevice was silent. Justin wanted to hash out some sort of plan with the others, but it was going to be overheard. The Baron had sharp senses, and it was probable that he could guess their thoughts just by scanning their faces. The best play was to work together—for now.

At last, they arrived at the mouth of the Vault. The barrier of red magic shimmered, a dense, pulsing aura that responded to their arrival. The Vault description blinked to life in their interfaces once again, the dreaded Level 35 marker as clear as ever. At least it hadn’t gone up a level or two in the interim.

There was no difference in the description or rewards. The only thing was that their average party level was now 17.88, so the risk level had adjusted slightly. Instead of saying “fatal,” it said, “almost certainly fatal.” It was something, at least.

Valdrik and his party studied the description in silence, talking quietly with each other before the Baron gave a final nod. Turning to face both groups, Valdrik’s tone was hard and commanding.

“I will take the lead as tank. Kargan, Wolfram…prioritize healing. Everyone else, attack as directed. Our survival depends on this, so there will be no distinctions between parties. If anyone is caught shirking their role or sabotaging, I will handle it—swiftly and without mercy. Kargan, you will shield me with that spell of yours. I’m not sure what it’s called.”

“Sacrificial Armor,” Kargan said.

“Good. Blood Warden is a rare and powerful class. It’ll let you punch above your weight. The spell you cast will be highly effective against large groups.”

“I have seven of them left,” Kargan said.

“Then we must use them judiciously.”

Justin blinked. That meant, at some point, Kargan had jumped to Level 8, since he could cast Knives of Fury as many times as his level. Kargan had said nothing to any of them about it. He wondered what new spells, skills, or boons he had access to now.

“Wolfram, you’ll also prioritize healing. If anyone needs help, give it. Anyone who doesn’t follow orders, or shirks their duties will be dealt with most severely. Test me at your own peril.” His gaze took on a new intensity. “And of course, this should go without saying…the Star of Elara is mine. Divide the rest as you see fit.”

The weight of his words left no room for argument. Justin gave a brief nod, his stomach knotting. He’d never trust Wolfram to heal him in a million years, but it seemed Valdrik’s ranger carried a stock of potions and, perhaps, enough skill to keep them going. For now, it would have to be enough.

“After you, Valdrik,” Eldrin said, his tone neutral.

Valdrik met his gaze with a thin smile. “Into the maw of the beast, then. Let’s hunt this drake.”