The moonlight shines dimly from the entrance, far ahead of me. I stand facing Azkar, now a zombified shell, groaning at me. “I wonder what life would be like if I didn’t have to kill you,” I muse, looking at his lifeless form. Behind him, the others lie dead on the cold ground.

“I wonder what it would be like if we still had to work together instead of killing all of you. Would I have made friends?” I ask the zombie in front of me, knowing the absurdity of my words. “Gods, this is stupid—” I mutter as I walk off. “I’m talking to a dead man.” Azkar stumbles after me.

“Well, I guess you can help me with this last task, Azkar.” I head toward the entrance of the cave, greeted by tall trees and the refreshing air, a stark contrast to the decaying bodies inside.

I head toward the village, not far from where I stand. From a distance, it looks like a ghost town—quiet and still, as if everyone is asleep. I need to stay silent to make this work. I approach the nearest house, my footsteps muffled on the dirt path. The door creaks open easily; it’s unlocked.

Inside, I find my first victims: a wood elf family—two children, a mother, and a father. The air is heavy with the smell of wood and warmth. I move swiftly, drawing my battle axe as I slip into the dimly lit room. The parents are asleep, their bodies sprawled across the floor, the children huddled close to them. I take a moment to savor the scene—the quiet before the storm.

Without hesitation, I strike. The blade slices through the father’s neck, severing his head, the mother wakes with a start, but before she can react, I slice her open, and she collapses with a choked gasp.

The children’s screams pierce the night as they wake to the horror. I turn to them, my expression as cold as ever. Azkar, in his grotesque form, is unnervingly efficient. With a sickening crunch, he grabs the first child, his rotting hands leaving trails of blood as he tears through them. The second child, in a desperate attempt to flee, scrambles away. I quickly close the distance and catch them. With ruthless precision, I end their life with a brutal cut.

I continue through the village, the silence of the night now broken by the distant echoes of my violence.

I killed the last person living in this village, my blade dripping with blood. As I walk outside, I notice the sun beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden hue over the now-desolate landscape. The village is a ghost town—silent and empty, with not a soul left to be heard. I sheathe my axe and turn away from the scene. I can’t help but ask myself, was it worth it? Killing so many innocents just to complete the mission?

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As I walk down the dirt path toward the tree with the door on it, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn to find the hatted man grinning at me. “Ahh, yes, I see you have done your deed,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “Now, I present you with this—” he stretches out his hands, and the Lich he spoke of materializes between us, floating ominously.

“I assume you'll be traveling with this, so I’ll cast a spell to place it in this bag of holding for you. It will shrink until you pull it out; once released, it will return to its normal size, so be careful.” He hands me the bag. His grin widens further as he asks, “So, how much did you enjoy killing each and every person?”

A strange sensation burns within me, something I can’t quite place. What is this feeling?

I pull out my battle axe ready to swing, “Piss off.” The fire builds within me.

“Ahh, so she does have emotions. I can see the severed bond between you and your Queen. What a pity. You are a failure.”

His words cut deep, and my heart aches. I almost forgot—my Queen abandoned me. I broke my Oath to her, and to this man, it’s just a cruel joke. All my efforts, all my hard work, dismissed in an instant.

Fueled by anger, I swing my axe at him. He jumps back, giggling. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” he taunts as dark spears materialize in his hands. With a flick, he flings them at me, and one strikes my leg. Pain shoots through me, but I grit my teeth, refusing to show weakness.

I swing again, my blade catching his arm, severing it cleanly. The limb drops to the ground with a sickening thud, but instead of pain, he laughs.

Before he can taunt me further, I use the blessing of the Raven Queen to teleport behind him. My sword slashes across his back, slicing through flesh and bone. Blood gushes out, staining the ground beneath us.

“Oh, you’re fun to play with,” he sneers, unfazed by the deep wound. With a swift turn, he drives a dagger into my ribs, the sharp pain exploding through my side. I grunt but refuse to back down.

Summoning all my strength, I twist away, yanking the dagger from my side and hurling it at him. It sinks into his shoulder, but instead of wincing, he only laughs harder, his twisted grin never fading. In an instant, he teleports away, reappearing a short distance from me. “Cai, come catch me!” he mocks.

Fueled by rage and determination, I charge at the man, delivering a powerful upward slash that cuts deep into his chest. He staggers, his laughter abruptly ceasing as he collapses to the ground. As he lies there, his form begins to waver and dissolve.

I watch in disbelief as the man's fading figure morphs into the withered form of Draxen. His body, long dead just as it was when I killed him, is revealed beneath the man’s vanishing guise. The sight of my old comrade emerging from the fading man sends a jolt of shock through me, leaving me momentarily paralyzed and shaken.

Before the last trace of the man disappears, his voice echoes in my mind, “We’ll meet again, darling. This was just the beginning.” I kneel beside Draxen, the memories of our time together flooding back, mixing with the bitter reality of what I’ve become.