CHAPTER 37

Three figures sat around a campfire, their silhouettes were revealed by the burning cinders, yet anything else remained cloaked by shadows. The only thing that showed through the shadows that enveloped them were their eyes, their burning bright eyes.

Their bright yellow irises seemed to exude light as natural as the sun, as their eyes penetrated the shimmering dusk with the light that radiated from them.

With a sigh, the shortest figure spoke with a brisk voice.

“Do we really have to wait for those dark elves? Can’t we just kill the damned bastard now and get it over with? If he is dead, extracting the hostages will be easy!”

The figure standing most distant from the campfire walked back towards the other two. He said with a disgruntled and tired voice: “Could you stop whining about killing him? We were told to bring back the hostages alive, and if we try an outright assault he will just relocate and become invisible, again.”

An agitated voice rang as the shortest member spoke once again.

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to rub it in, I know what I did. But this time, it’s different. He has nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and no monsters that we don’t know of. It’s gonna be easy to cut off his head!”

Before they could continue, the third party member spoke.

“Alryd, stop with your ramblings and Falril, don’t bite. You know every discussion with him devolves into a yes or no argument regardless of the topic. Speaking is silver yet silence is golden, remember?”

The campsite became enshrouded in silence as the third party member’s calm yet stern voice cut off Alryd and Falril’s bickering. His silhouette seemed domineering as he towered above the other two, his presence seemed to radiate authority as the two obediently remained silent.

He continued.

“They said they will come after dusk, and the sun hasn’t gone down, so stop bickering about the time. Have you forgotten the most basic principle of our creed? Patience and striking when the opportunity arises. So shut up and wait.”

The campsite became silent once again, until the shortest of the figures, Alryd, spoke up once again.

“Chef, could you tell us about the target?”

With a sigh the so called chef stood up, and addressed the two once again.

“How hard is it to understand the meaning of ‘shut up and wait’? Being a battle crazed berserker doesn’t mean you are allowed to be this stupid. Either way, everything you need to know is in the mission briefing.”

“Ha ha, very funny. Making fun of a berserker for being stupid, very original. I meant something in the mission briefing, namely the ‘hostile hostages’ that are mentioned. What do they mean with ‘hostile hostages’? Are they corrupted, brainwashed, or do they have the Bertram syndrome or something? Because I’m not going to kidnap someone who willingly turned themselves into a lich after coming to like their kidnapper.”

The two underlings stared with anticipating gazes at the so called chef, as they expected an answer to their reasonable question. They had both read the mission briefing with great anticipation, yet for differing reasons. Both saw it as a chance, but one saw it as a chance for elation and the other saw it as a chance for elevation.

They waited for their leader to answer them in silence. The silence continued on for minutes on end, making it seem like an eternity, as the anticipation filled their minds and filtered out everything else. When they felt a century had passed, he finally spoke.

“Well, you sure can show some patience when you want to. You don’t need to know about the ‘hostile hostages’, I will handle him and the hostages, you will handle his minions. Don’t forget, he is a dark mage, and a powerful chimeramancer at that. His abominations are very powerful, so the moment you have any time to worry about the ‘hostile hostages’ it will be the moment before a twisted and vile monster closes its maw around your neck and rips off your head.

I will deal with the hostages while you and the dark elves distract his minions long enough to ensure my success. Understood?”

His voice had a threatening undertone in it, as his expression made clear that he wasn’t willing to give any more information to his two underlings.

While the campsite of the trio was shrouded in silence for the dozenth time, the humble abode of their target wasn’t as quiet. In contrast, it was filled with the roars and bellows of creatures from both inside and outside.

The target seemed to be in a hurry as he and a six armed goblin scurried around, trying to pack as many things as they could in the large number of chests, crates and bags that were piled up against the backwall.

It was quite surprising to see a large amount of the chests, crates and bags mostly filled, as the library seemed unchanged. The bookcases surrounding them were still filled with different kinds of literature, stacks upon stacks of books still permeated the hallways, yet when one would look closer, they would notice the change.

Certain books which normally seemed irrelevant or unimportant were taken from the shelfs, stacks of books had shrunk or completely disappeared in the absence of the literature it once held. The books seemed to have been selectively taken from the library, making it seem like nothing had been taken away.

The same was true for the other possessions of Orthrus.

The piles dozens upon dozens of exotic looking skulls, bones, or even complete skeletons seemed untouched, yet upon closer inspection a few of the more peculiar looking ones had been removed from the shelves they had rested on.

The armoury which housed a multitude of mystic yet powerful weapons had shrunk, quite literally. The room itself seemed to perfectly accommodate the impressive number of weapons it housed, giving the illusion that the true treasure was housed here, only to disappoint any would be raider when they found that the weapons were of only slightly above average quality.

The shimmering wands and fiery swords only proved to be slightly above average enchantments on mediocre equipment as it was clear that both the weapon and the enchantment had been forged by an amateur. The numerous intricately engraved bows were clearly inscribed by an amateur engraver, and even the sturdy crossbows and hand cannons could only be seen as a disgrace to any respectable gun smith.

Yet despite the effort to mask any major signs of moving out, one sign remained prevalent.

The unnatural silence that resounded through the dungeon which bordered the library. The usual chittering, screeching of claws, and growling had been replaced by an out of place tranquillity. The domineering aura’s of powerful monsters and the horrifying silhouettes of abominations had been replaced by a scene filled with blood and gore. Everything was dyed in a new taint with a mixture of red, blue, green and black as the multitude of creatures that once resided there had been brutally slaughtered.

Once again, a closer inspection revealed much more than a simple slaughter. It revealed a grand frenzy, a free for all between the multitude of prisoners kept in the dungeon. Orthrus acted as both the agitator and the benefactor of the frenzy, riling up the creatures by releasing the pressure that the dark mana worked on them, and ordering the weaker denizens to engage in battle with each other, signalling the start of a bloody and brutal affair.

The frenzy lasted a whole night, before the dungeon finally became quiet as the last shriek resounded through the literature filled hallways of the library.

The frenzy had ended with only a few creatures remaining. Each of them had faced a group of competitors trying for their life during the frenzy and each of them had mercilessly slaughtered a path through their fellow inmates in the hope of survival.

Through intelligence, brute strength, overwhelming speed or some innate ability they had conquered their foes, and they had grown out of their former selves. They had sharpened their dulled skills through the night long frenzy, they had advanced many levels through the enormous amount of mana they had greedily absorbed from the slaughter, and they had once again enjoyed the thrill of the hunt. They lusted for more as they were ready to charge out against their adversaries, only to experience the same pressure that had dulled their skills, taken away the thrill of battle, and had suppressed their minds time and time again.

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They were once again being forced into a comatose under the oppressing presence of the dark mana, their bodies were once again sealed away as the ever-growing pressure made their limbs impossible to move. They bravely roared and fought back against the oppressing force working on them, only to fall down one by one.

The dungeon became more and more quiet as every roar, screech and shriek was followed by a soft *thud* as the denizens fell prey to the dark mana one by one.

The last one to stand tall above its adversaries was the three headed hound. It valiantly defied the growing pressure on its body, standing tall even when the dark mana reached its peak, flowing into the room like a river.

The creature smirked as it noticed the stabilisation of the mana, only to lose that smirk when the dark mana around it rippled.

“So, you’re the last one standing. Well, it’s to be expected.”

The dark mana surrounding it seemed to ripple as the old mage spoke, bending under his will like it was nothing. It subsided only to collide with the monster’s body again in full force. It acted like an ocean under the mage’s will, resembling the tide as it washed up against the monster’s body with great force only to subside and clash again. It became a never ending cycle to dim the monster’s mind and have its consciousness fall prey to the dark mana surrounding it, and the dark mage in front of him.

With one last squeal escaping its maws, it collapsed on the floor. Its consciousness faded, yet its will remained, barring the dark mage from influencing its mind and soul. The only thing he could do was restrain it.

The whole affair elicited a sigh from Orthrus, as he knew he would need to restrain most of the remaining test subjects with heavy armaments, otherwise they would escape the moment he didn’t utmost attention to their cages. It had been several days since then and he still couldn’t help but check the enchantments on the cages every so often, as he would have a serious problem if those creatures were to escape.

Heavens knew he couldn’t handle another burden. He still felt anxious from the captured monsters as there was a very slim chance that they would break out regardless of their magically reinforced prisons. Yet his worries were quickly put out of mind as he heard a knock on the door. He walked over to the door with a sigh, as he knew exactly who was standing behind the enchanted oaken door. He opened the door and was actually a bit surprised, as they were with three instead of two.

Lyvia, Cyrus and Grey stood in front of him with grim yet hopeful faces.

They had come almost every day after the incident, hoping to see Daelyn pop out from behind the door and sooth their worries, only to be disappointed time and time again as Farnum hadn’t released Daelyn yet.

Orthrus remembered the day of the incident, and their reaction to it. He also couldn’t help but sigh, as that had been one of the most exhausting days in decades for him.

They had heard about Daelyn’s demise at the hands of the ants, as the most esteemed and renowned dark elf in the forest of Eleanor had come to tell them, and apologise for his actions.

The family had been perplexed as the highest power in the forest had come to their small house and profusely apologised for the damage he had brought upon their son.

Despite their surprise, the moment Marius had mentioned Daelyn being hurt, the two immediately shifted gears from surprise to worry. Their parental instincts got the best of them as they figuratively assaulted Marius.

His apology quickly turned into an interrogation as both Lyvia and Grey questioned him about every little detail. Answers were met with questions, questions were met with more questions, and any vagueness was met with even more intense interrogation.

It quickly became clear that Marius couldn’t give them the complete picture, so Elyvia sped off and interrogated Orthrus. He was faced with the same treatment and his every word was ravaged by the parental instincts that had been spiked by their deep worry for Daelyn.

The interrogation continued on for several hours, until both Marius and Orthrus had been completely exhausted. Satisfied with their answers, Lyvia and Grey treated them both to some roasted acorns and some tea to replenish their energy reserves.

It had been ten days since then and Orthrus had been sympathetic to the small family, offering them all the advice, apologies and comfort he could give them. Protecting both them and Daelyn from further harm, as it had been clear to Orthrus that Lyvia had considered breaking into Farnum and extracting Daelyn multiple times.

Orthrus once again eased their worries with predictions and explanations. He explained why it was taken so long for Daelyn to be healed and he eased their worries by explaining that Farnum was most likely healing Daelyn, as the old tree didn’t have any motivation not to.

The Theandor family left him a basket with tea leaves and acorn bread as they left to complete their daily task. Orthrus knew their worries were far from gone, but he hoped that he had eased them.

Returning to his work, he continued marking off his general checklist of different things he would need to pack.

‘Dried mana lilies, check. Potions, check. Staffs, weapons, tools and other equipment, check.’ Resounded through his mind as he ticked off box by box on the list.

He looked over with a disinterested look to the cages set up against the wall to his left.

‘Monsters, check.’

Orthrus breathed a sigh of relieve as he stood up. It had taken several days to categorise, gather and pack all the necessary items in such a manner that it would seem like nothing was missing from the library, its hidden hallways, the armoury and their personal chambers.

Orthrus cheerfully strolled past the mountain of items stacked against the backwalls of the library, humming in a soft tone as he made one last check.

Halfway through the mountain of chests, he came across a small branch lying on the side of his worktable. The small branch seemed completely innocuous and uninteresting. Surprisingly, it was completely innocuous and uninteresting, it was just a normal branch which could be found anywhere just outside of the house he was in.

Yet this particular branch gained his attention, as it was the reason how they had been able to discover his escape path and his general location.

With a swath of his hand, he knocked the branch off the table. With a grave expression and an angry yet trembling voice, he said:

“There will be no traces now. I believed to be cleansed of that filth over a century ago, only to encounter them once more. I will not let my life be tainted anymore by those damned bastards.”

His anger remained as he walked off with brisk and aggravated steps, becoming more and more motivated to finish as soon as possible.

Accompanied by the odd silence any library would have, he continued his work. He continued on his new projects, gathering information for Daelyn, enchanting Gob’s crafts and trying to bring the caged monsters under his will one by one.

His mind was filled with both boredom and anxiety as he repeated tasks he had done only minutes before. He checked everything for the dozenth time, he erased and enchanted one of Gob’s weapons for the fifth time, hoping to do something that would drive away his growing boredom.

He leaned back in his chair like a bored schoolboy, sighing as he reached the same results over and over, finding only one answer to both his boredom and anxiety.

Daelyn.

Daelyn was always the one to drive away his boredom with his unending stream of questions, his enthusiasm for almost every field of dark magic despite his inability to wield them, the need to prepare lessons, information and resources for the boy, and the satisfaction of watching him grow under his tutelage.

Small steps is what he always said, yet these small steps would always make both of them filled with joy. The exhilaration of seeing his new student grow was a sensation he hadn’t felt in a very long time, and he welcomed it.

He reminisced about the different times when he scolded the boy for his carelessness, the first time being when the boy tried to make a regeneration spell from scratch. He tested his first attempt on himself, himself! I was already foolish enough to test a spell you had just started creating, not to mention what level of mental incapacity it would require to test it on oneself.

Yet he had greatly enjoyed the boy’s effort.

He had enjoyed seeing the boy explore a type of magic that was unknown to both of them, he had enjoyed seeing him fail yet remain motivated with a little help, and he had enjoyed teaching him.

Orthrus continued to reminiscence about Daelyn’s progress for close to an hour, as he thought about the foundation Daelyn had already laid. He had made the foundation for a regeneration spell, he had become competent in the most basic form of auramancy, he had learnt a great deal about different kinds of magic, monsters and crafts during the last two years, and he had become adept at strategy and using tactics.

So adept, that he was able to beat Orthrus in a number of different strategic and tactical games about two-thirds of the time. Much to the dismay of Orthrus, he was being consecutively beaten by a boy that was several centuries his junior in something that he would be expected to have mastered by now.

Standing at the helm of armies of undead, commanding powerful abominations and commanding creatures from beyond this realm, and he was being beaten by a five year old when it came to utilising these powerful pawns!

The boy showed great potential, yet he couldn’t help but imagine how his peers would react to being beaten by a five year old, not to mention Marius. He knew that damned dark elf would laugh heartily for days on end and he knew that within the minute, literally, the entire forest would know.

Orthrus continued to sulk for several more minutes, wallowing in self-pity and pride as he both praised his student for his prowess and loathed himself for his tactical and strategic failures. Yet, he quickly cut off his train of thought and focused his senses outwards. He felt the enchantment on the glade outside flaring up, alerting him of a perimeter breach by a particular individual, a sun elf.

He was not alone anymore.

He quickly felt the glade fill with multiple presences, each quite powerful, yet there were none that matched neither the sun elf in the middle of the glade, nor himself.

He turned his back to the door and looked through the walls of his humble abode at Farnum. He knew Daelyn was in there, he knew what sun elves were capable of, and he knew he wasn’t going to let anything happen to his disciple.

Orthrus knew what they came for, he knew what he would have to give them to go away, yet he didn’t have it, not anymore.

Instead, he had something even better, something that would scar them for life, something that obeyed his command and would slaughter anything that would stand in his way, even if they were former comrades.

With a wicked smile, Orthrus turned to the group standing in front of his house and readied himself.

Blood would soil the ground, an old feud would be reignited with the conjuration of a single monster, and one creature would experience something that only the most legendary of existences experience, rebirth.