The endless wastes surround us. Only four of us remain, all barely standing. We’re all shocked and frightened.

I look at destroyed lands around and shiver.

I knew how powerful she was. I understood the powers she had at her disposal better than anyone. But between knowing, and actually seeing, the difference is entirely a different matter.

Now, her lifeless, broken body lies between us. It barely resembles the elf I have known for so long.

Together, we’ve designed this experiment.

Humans, and other short living races, tend to make changes in their lives so fast. They adjust to them so quickly. If they had flourished in the society we had tried to create, then it would be worth to adapt the system into our lands.

I feel both remorse and shame, remembering her accusing glances during our fight.

I’ve been warning her. I’ve been trying to convince her to conclude our observation and return with our whole team.

She couldn’t have seen that we have failed. Or maybe she simply couldn’t accept the failure?

I wonder how much of her stubbornness was due to real care for our research and how much because she started to enjoy the position she was in too much.

Her only order for me was to not interfere with the natural progress of the experiment.

So I didn’t.

As I couldn’t force changes through her, I joined an already ongoing rebellion. Were my decisions less selfish than hers? I hope so.

After all, it is I who have to live with the consequences.

I channel most of the mana that’s left inside myself, coalescing the chaotic essence that still lingers after the combat. Souls of the fallen are still yelling around us, not understanding yet that they have died. Mages, soldiers, random people caught into a clash between forces they couldn’t fathom nor comprehend.

Soon they will move on.

‘But yours is not there anymore. After your body has failed, you continued to fight until all its energy was extinguished too. Even if gods have been silent and uncaring through grand cycles, was annihilating all of your being in the final act of defiance worth it? You’ve come so close to winning… I almost regret that you hadn’t; at least your sacrifice would have mattered. Now, I can only hope that a piece of you that I couldn’t even trace still remained. You always understood sorcery better than I.‘

As I weave threads of mana, a towering obelisk encases the body of the Overlord.

“An epoch has ended,” I say.

My act finally awakens them from a stupor.

“The Overlord’s tyranny is finished,” a human, with flames of mana still glowing within her eyes despite the tiredness proclaims. “From this day onwards, we will form a Council. Our mission will be to protect the world, not rule it. We will stay in the shadows, preserving the knowledge about magic, letting the people rule themselves, guiding them…”

“I wish you good luck…” she looks at me as if I have betrayed also her. “I’m simply unable to do this any longer. Overseeing, deciding the right from the wrong… My love, I need a respite…”

I could see many feelings passing through her face, all the way from a barely controlled fury to an understanding.

“Then get out of my sight,” she finally whispers, as much with anger as with resignation.

I tried not to see a tear dripping down her cheek. I fought to not wipe it away as I opened a Dimension Door.

Even if this might not mean anything anymore, I'm still the arbiter. And before I could search for my respite, there are still matters that need to be taken care of.

- Ion’s dream journal

“Take cover!” Niklas shouted just before arrows and stones began to rain on them.

The group answered with arrows of their own, assisted by minor spells sent by Reria and Ion. Similarly to the previous encounters, their half-hearted efforts to retaliate were enough to convince the cultists to retreat further into the fort.

The group slowly marched the corridor. They gave up on trying to chase the cultists who harassed them; the first attempt ended with one of the soldiers badly wounded by a trap. There weren’t many of them, nor were they very hard to spot, yet the combination of magical and mechanical ones which they have encountered so far convinced them to stay vigilant and proceed carefully.

The most curious thing Ion noticed during their earlier encounters was Petra’s ability to engulf her sword with currents of air, which allowed her to extend the range on which she could cut with her weapon. At first, he thought it to be a spell, yet the woman said its one of the applications of combat mana manipulation that she is proficient with. She claimed to achieve the effect instinctively... part of him wondered how different manipulating the mana would be if one tried to achieve the same effect by casting a spell. A pity he had no way to research it.

The group approached another door and fanned around it. When Sae told they were untrapped, Thaleus kicked them open.

They barged inside.

“Empty.”

Ion directed a ball of light to illuminate the room's insides. Most of the chambers they have checked were unused; dusted, containing ruined, barely recognisable furniture. Not this one.

“Dining hall. They must have interrupted their meal three, maybe four hours ago,” Sae said after checking an already cooling fireplace. “Is this blood?” she pointed at the wall.

“Goblins’,” Ciros said after inspecting the strains.

“You can say that just by looking?” Reria asked.

“It smells differently.”

Ion had no idea whether he could discern the smell of days old blood because of elven or ranger senses. Due to the combination of both, perhaps?

"Could have cleaned the blood before making it into a dining hall," one of the soldiers commented.

“No point in wasting any more time here. They are already stalling us with those attacks. Whatever they are preparing for us, I don’t want to let them finish it,” Dorian said.

They went on.

“Footsteps behind us,” Ciros said.

“I told you we ought to start by checking the dungeon, not the first floor,” Thaleus grumbled as the group formed a circle and prepared for another assault.

“No one important would be willingly living in the dungeon of a ruined fort…” Sae said.

“In our citadels-“

“Unless he’s a dwarf. And they have none of them.”

“Honestly, it seems to me like something the cultists would consider,” Petra said. “I told you we should have split.”

“Shhh… they are almost there.”

They took positions behind the corner. Ion started to gather mana for one of his spells. Soon, they heard the voices.

“They must have gone this way, it’s the only corridor where traps are disabled…”

“Following them wasn’t a good idea. We should go back…”

“Derek? What are you doing here?” Niklas suddenly shouted. “I’ve ordered you to secure the outsides.”

“Sir!” the leader of the approaching group quickly get over his surprise. “We dealt with sentries, yet suffered casualties; one of the militiamen was killed by the cultist’s spellcaster and four more too severely wounded for our potions to heal. Sam and one of the militiamen hid and are taking care of them; according to her they are currently stable, but she’s not sure how long it lasts, nor about their chances if we'd tried to move them now. If we deal with the cultists fast enough, after helping wounded with spells, we could transport them back to the village.”

Seeing the new arrivals weren’t hostile, they relaxed a bit; not too much as they were still inside the hostile territory. Five lightly armoured men, two of whom were Niklas subordinates, joined them.

“Have you encountered more… corrupted cultists among the sentries?” Dorian explained seeing oblivious gazes of the arrivals.

“The bodies we’ve seen outside… it wasn’t the effect of spells mages cast? I’m starting to doubt joining you was a good idea.”

“It’s good they don’t have the support of more of these. It could be problematic if the monstrosities were within the group that keeps harassing us,” Petra said.

Another skirmish occurred while they climbed a partially destroyed flight of stairs to reach the second floor. The cultists seemed more desperate to slow them, as even after two or three of them died, they still continued to fight, hiding behind a makeshift barricade built from the rubble.

“If not for the fear of completely destroying the staircase, I would have fried them with a Fireball…” Reria sighed, as she and Ion kept supporting their group with spells.

“With all the runes still protecting the building I doubt it’s possible,” Ion said. Not that he considered testing it. They were trying to spare mana on the leader of the cultists. “Were you always so eager to set everything on fire?”

As if on cue one of the barricades used by the cultists was hit by Reria’s Scorching Ray and started to burn.

Ion continued to observe the fight. The enemy, using their upper ground continued to stall them. Even if it became obvious now that whatever strange resistances the cultists had were already at their limits, their melee combatants were hesitant to charge against them. Witnessing Thaleus’ earlier attempt interrupted by the shower of acid which partially dissolved his shield as he sprang up a trap on his way might be a reason for this.

Noticing one of the archers peeking out of his cover, Ion quickly chanted an incantation for Hold Person and released the spell, making the unfortunate cultist an easy target.

Ion seriously started to think about helping Reria with setting the barricades on fire. The flames and smoke would probably force cultists to retreat, but they would also hinder his group further progress afterwards. He briefly considered fooling them with an illusion, yet creating a realistic image of fire and smoke wasn’t something he could currently achieve.

However, the cultists made the decision for Ion.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“They’re gone,” Niklas said.

The group warily climbed.

“Two more traps,” one of the Faranger's soldiers said as he and Sae quickly proceeded with disabling the devices at the top of the stairs.

“Are you feeling this?” Ion asked. “The mana around, it’s strange.”

“This whole castle was excluding an aura of evil, but now it thickens with our every step,” Dorian said.

“No. It’s something else. As if something was trying to suck all the ambient mana…”

“We must hurry up!” Reria ushered. “It could be the result of some ritual they are conducting. We have to stop it!”

“May Adrestia support our cause and aid us in battling our opponents,” Dorian said and began a short prayer, blessing everyone. Ion felt strange, yet calm energy filling him.

As they closed to the large door at the end of the corridor, Ion began to gather mana and lifeforce, weaving his spell. Even if he hadn’t noticed this earlier, his mind was still taxed after the previous use of that spell. Casting it now took him longer, and required him to spend more energy to properly manifest it, on top of the difficulties he had due to reduced amounts of ambient mana.

The scout checked the door and pushed them. Ion was surprised that they easily gave in; he expected the cultists to bar them.

Insides presented them with a curious sight. A ritual circle occupied most of the hall, five people around it. Three of them were lying unmoving, one youth was kneeling on all fours, heavily gasping for air. The fifth person was visibly taxed and still focused as he guided his mana.

Judging by the man’s elaborate robes, he must have been a leader of the cultists. Whenever Ion heard about priest Friedrich, he expected him to be a wizened, greying man. Contrary to the image he had in his mind, the priest was relatively young, maybe in mid-twenties. He briefly wondered how someone so young managed to exclude enough authority to convert so many villagers to his cause.

It can't be that all of them were simply possessed innocents; most have to be working for the cult willingly, right?

Inside the circle, sat a man. He had his back turned to them, his hands raised up. His palms were glowing with an eerie colour of gathered mana as it seeped towards a silvery-black spear that levitated in front of him. The weapon was ornamental, with an unusually big spearhead, resembling more of a blade that would be used not only to pierce but also slash the opponents. There was a certain etherealness to the weapon, but Ion could promise that as mana seeped from the person’s hands its image became firmer and more material.

The path to the circle was blocked by the group of a dozen bows-wielding cultists; judging by the wounds most of them had, they were the people who delayed them inside the fort.

“For Sudomeas!” one of them shouted, and the group released arrows as soon as the door opened.

Ion ducked, releasing Coldfire towards the circle. He saw Reria doing likewise with her Fireball. He stared unbelievingly when one of the cultists moved to block his projectile. The man didn’t even get a chance to understand his folly when the flames instantly consumed his energy, exploding and spreading around. For a moment an unearthly blue light illuminated the chamber, the flames engulfing each nearby cultist. Victims that were fortunate shared the fate of the man which was hit directly; their bodies almost instantly turned into icy dust. Screams of those who firmly clung to their lives made Ion’s blood run cold. With eyes wide with horror, they tried to douse the flames, whether by rolling or patting themselves. With morbid fascination Ion observed frostbites spreading through their bodies, unable to turn his gaze away.

“Move,” Ciros pushed Ion to the side.

The cultists in front of them weren’t the only ones; two smaller groups wielding melee weapons charged at them from the sides, in hopes of catching them off guard as soon as they entered the chamber.

Yet the danger from which Ciros was trying to save Ion came from within the ritual circle. When Reria’s Fireball reached the circle, the man sitting inside suddenly turned and caught the fiery ball inside his hand. The figure cocked his head and absentmindedly threw the spell back at the group.

Because of the ranger’s warning, Ion and most of the group managed to vacate the blast area.

“It would have to suffice, for now,” the voice; hollow and monotone, as if unused to the articulation, sounded as the figure stood up grabbing his weapon.

“Good…” Friedrich said in a raspy voice, falling on his knees. “Now help us deal with those blasphemers.”

The man ignored the priest as he went through the area where Ion’s spell exploded. Only a handful of affected cultists were still breathing, but all looked more flimsy than before. Most lied on the ground, nothing more than withered husks.

“Josh?” Ion recognised the approaching man.

“What have you done to my sister?” he shouted.

In a fraction of second, his spear moved, flying straight at Ion as if propelled forward by the spell. He barely had time to dodge, not willing to risk blocking the weapon with his protective spells. The soldier behind him, completely invested in a fight against different cultists has been pierced by it.

Reria sent two rays of energy against Josh, yet a wave of his hand was enough to send them straight at Ion. He managed to dodge one and block another with a spell of his own yet the third slightly burnt him.

As direct spell attacks seemed to be ineffective, Ion tried to affect him with Hold Person, yet felt the spell slipping from him.

“I always knew something was wrong with you, boy,” one of the village militia charged against Josh. “Pity that no one told you not to throw your weap-“

Josh waved his arm towards the man. Halfway through the move, the spear materialised inside it and its blade cleanly severed his head.

“The hate, the rage, the feeling of betrayal,” Josh’s voice became monotone once again. “You’ve torn the boy’s soul apart-”

“Adrestia, smite the evil before me!”

Josh managed to block Dorian’s enhanced attack. They continued the exchange for a few strikes before the spear found purchase forcing the paladin to take few steps behind to channel holy magic to heal the wound.

“How strong is your conviction, warrior? I’ve been already old when your deity ascended to her position. Is your faith in her strong enough to entertain this vessel of mine with a proper fight?”

The combat started anew, yet Dorian was pushed back. Ion and Reria alike tried to release Josh from fiend’s influence, yet the spells which caused pain to the fiend who possessed Bran were completely ineffective.

“Help Dorian!” Ion called, deciding that it would be better to support other combatants with magic.

Thaleus’, Niklas’ and Petra’s assistance somehow balanced the odds…

“Come, come! There is nothing more rewarding than quashing hopes of the mortals!”

…which meant that while Dorian wasn’t accumulating any more wounds at the alarming rate, Josh still was able to flawlessly evade all of their incoming attacks.

The remaining five fighters, assisted by Sae and Ciros continued to fight remaining cultists. With Ion’s and Reria’s spells, they should deal with them in no time and afterwards could focus solely on Josh. Suddenly, Reria’s casts became sluggish, as if she had problems with gathering mana or her mind was occupied with something else. Ion had no time to wonder about her predicament, as just before releasing another barrage of magic missiles, he felt a disruption in the flow of mana and had to fight to not let the energies explode in his face.

“I won’t let you destroy everything I’ve built here!”

“Damn, I thought that whatever spell he has been casting completely drained him out of mana,” Ion cursed, turning towards Friedrich.

Why they even let him stay unchecked after he finished his ritual? Ion felt as if something had been clouding his reasoning concerning the man, and whatever enchantment that affected him dispersed when he decided to attack them.

The priest was barely standing, supporting himself on the wall, yet was already chanting another spell.

Ion used the same tactic the cleric used against him, sending a streak of mana to interrupt his spellcasting. The man scowled but immediately responded, sending streaks of energy which dispersed when Ion manifested Shield around himself. They continued to throw and block each other quickest spells, be it magic missiles, fiery or icy rays, or blasts of pure energy. Whenever one tried to gather mana on something more elaborate, he was immediately interrupted.

Even when Reria added spells of hers to the mix, Friedrich still managed to keep them at the stalemate. Two times, despite Ion’s efforts, he actually managed to manifest one of the clerical spells to support the cultists who attacked the group, causing them to fight with renewed strength.

Ion heard Reria’s scream as some of the cleric’s spells hit her. Their opponent decided to harass her instead, and her tries to repel incoming magic could be only described as pathetic.

“Seriously? Have you never learned how to protect yourself?” Ion moved towards her to engulf her within barriers he was almost constantly sustaining around himself and threw the girl one of his healing potions.

“I know one spell,” she referred to the frosty armour which she barely sustained and gulped the mixture. “Never needed anything to fight against wizards.”

“For Uther’s sake! It never occurred to you that a cult leader could be a dangerous mage?” he flung more magic missiles at Friedrich to keep the man busy.

“Abjuration is much harder to learn than evocation. Instead of wasting mana on fancy barriers I hoped to finish enemy quickly.”

“And where is a sense of self-preservation? No, hells, no!” Ion ducked as Reria cast a streak of energy – which rebounded from the barrier Ion sustained around them and almost hit him.

“Are you trying to kill us? It blocks the projectiles, both ways.”

When casting by himself Ion could alter the field to allow his spells to pass, yet allowing somebody else's was something he has never tried before. And the current situation wasn’t the best moment to try new things.

Seeing their struggles, Sae disengaged the cultists she fought against and run towards the priest. As the rogue approached, Friedrich coalesced another layer of protective barrier in front of himself. On top of the Shield spell both he and Ion almost constantly maintained, the second barrier, in a form of almost lifelike kiteshield, hovered in front of him. The man manipulated it so that it blocked Sae’s attempts to hit him or sidestep the shield, preventing her from closing the distance. Friedrich targeted the girl with firebolts, yet despite the close distance she managed to evade them. She had more problems trying to dodge five magic missiles the caster sent against her, due to the man actively focusing on aiming the darts of energy.

Ion only hoped Sae’s armour and skills in mana manipulation would reduce the impact the attack had on her. However, the cleric’s efforts at guiding the spell made his defences more vulnerable, and for the first time during the fight, one of Ion’s fiery rays struck him true.

“Ror’eth! We conjured you to stop the enemies of Sudomeas, not for your own entertainment!”

There was no reaction to his order. The kiteshield hovering in front of the priest cracked when one of Sae’s shortswords hit it, forcing the caster to add more mana to repair it.

“Josh! Look how many of our brothers were murdered today by those vile wizards! The only hope to save Jane is to slay them now!”

Ion felt a sudden change in ambient mana and the next thing he noticed was a figure of the dwarf flying through the hall until it hit the wall. The young wizard instinctively turned, just in time to witness how another sweep of Josh’s spear pushed Dorian few meters back.

“I can’t waste more time on you,” Josh said, pointing spear at Ion. “My sister? Where is she? Tell me!”

“Alive. We can take you to her, but first, we need to get rid of that fiend sitting inside you. Fight his influence-”

“Ridiculous,” Josh took a few steps, completely ignoring the opponents he fought moments ago. “If not for the strength he gave me, you wouldn’t even bother talking with me. You only used me to get my sister, don’t you? How could I trust any word you say?”

He smirked, using his spear to deflect an arrow flying at him.

Petra decided to use the moment of Josh’s distraction to strike him from the back. Yet as soon as she started to move, Josh apparently relaxed position also slightly shifted. Niklas noticed it just in time to react. He managed to save the woman before Josh’s spear could strike her, yet has been pierced in her stand.

“Niklas!”

“Cowards and traitors,” he spat, twisting the spear lodged inside the dying man’s chest.

Petra rushed against Josh with fury, immediately assaulting him with a torrent of strikes. Dorian re-joined her, assisted by one of the soldiers who finished his earlier fight.

Yet Ion knew it won’t be enough. He took a look at Friedrich, somehow pushed back by Sae; it’s high time the priest finally runs out of mana. Believing the cleric to be too committed to his fight against her, Ion used almost all stolen lifeforce that remained within himself to manifest Coldfire once more. By the time he finished the chant, Josh already fended off attackers and moved towards him.

The blue flames exploded around Josh and Ion struggled to control them, to keep them from spreading, hoping to increase their destructive potential by focusing the spell in a single place.

The world became hazy when he released the spell.

“Interesting magic,” Josh said in a hollow voice when the flames subsided. Most of his hair and clothes were gone, a large portion of his skin was blackened and unhealthy. “Should you had proper guidance, our master could have found a task for you,” Ion watched terrified as with each passing second the wounds his opponent sustained healed themselves. “You surely would have fared much better than this fool over here.”

Even though everything seemed to dance before Ion’s eyes as he struggled to remain conscious, he was sure that Josh expression changed.

“Even if my sister is still alive, I’ll never forgive you what you’ve done to her.”

Ion blinked, and when he opened eyes again the room changed.

He heard someone’s scream.

No, it wasn’t the room that changed. He just suddenly found himself lying against the wall.

He coughed with blood.

Somehow, he found the idea of Josh’s spear piercing his abdomen and pinning him to the wall funny. It was probably the only thing that still allowed him to stand.

Ion tried to raise his arm, but without effect. Josh was walking towards him. Yet before he arrived, darkness spread before Ion’s eyes.

‘I definitely shouldn’t have casted this spell third time that quickly. And even this was in vain.’

“Why are you still struggling?” he heard a distant voice.

‘Just let me sleep.’

“You had so many chances to stop this from happening.”

‘I never thought that you would keep on gloating at the very end, Josh.’

“I tried to make you see the reason, yet you were deaf. But it's still not too late.”

The constant bickering started to annoy him. Ion forced himself to watch, and found the hall to be exactly the same as it was before the darkness took him. Positions of everyone included.

Or not. Everyone seemed to move at ridiculously slow peace. Josh still had a good five meters to reach him.

“It’s your fault it ends this way.”

He tried to look around to find the source of the voice, but like everyone else, his head was also almost frozen in a place.

He blinked – or maybe only thought that he blinked – and the scenery changed.

He was staring at the plains covered with rubbles and ruins. They were strangely familiar. If he’d focused, he could have almost remembered walking through the streets of this place. And destroying them during combat.

Five mages stood around him. No, only four, the one to his left was already dead. Killed by the ethereal image of an elven beauty.

He chanted and torrents of mana flew at her. Even if he couldn’t hear her, Ion was sure that she laughed as his spell was neutralised. Before his allies cast spells of their own, a ray of sickly green light flew from her hands and in an instant one of the mages was touched by it, his body turned to dust.

The ethereal figure stood just before him, and as he not-blinked, so stood Josh, reaching for spear lodged within him.

Ion felt himself speaking to the ethereal figure, and the very same syllables left his mouth, an ancient word spoken to Josh.

The pain Ion felt as the energies; both his own and of the spear piercing him, moved and burned insides of his throat, altering his vocal cords to allow him to utter syllables no mortal should be able to speak, engulfed him in the darkness once again.

Yet as his consciousness faded, he knew the world listened to him.