War God Vasquez’s POV.

“What do you want? Are you here to gloat? I suppose you’re satisfied that your plan is unfolding exactly as you predicted,” I said.

“Are you going to do it?” Thrandil questioned suddenly.

…

“…If His Highness orders it, I shall do anything,” I said after a moment.

Thrandil clicked his tongue and shook his head in a disapproving manner. “Now that’s not a very healthy way of doing things. Didn’t you say you're a brand new father? You can’t just leave your child so soon.”

“I definitely don’t want to hear that from you. I’m certain you sent many good men to their deaths, and the last time I checked…you aren’t on very good terms with what family you have,” I pointed out as I sat down behind my desk and began writing.

Thrandil took a seat and looked ready to contradict me, but he slumped back into his chair with a sigh. “Well…you have a point…but it isn’t representative of reality. That’s not very fair, right? I didn’t send people to do things I wouldn’t have done myself. And isn’t it because I’m on such bad terms with my family that you should heed my advice? I may know little in these matters, but I am certain you can’t exactly be a good, nor necessarily even a bad, father if you are lying in a grave.”

I placed my quill down and stared at the old Elf and told him, “And my family won’t have a place to live if I fail here. I have long since served His Majesty and his family. I will do whatever it takes to safeguard this kingdom, even if it means dying in the process. It’s as simple as that.”

Thrandil nodded with a smile. “Such conviction and honor…I wonder if things would have been different if people like you were at the head all those years ago. Perhaps the war would have never even begun,” he said solemnly.

“What? It was Tel’an’duth that started things. The events at Crescent Castle are well documented,” I said.

Thrandil’s brows furrowed as he sighed again. “You silly Humans and your short life spans…is that what you truly believe? It was Brax that started the war, not us. I had only just ascended to the throne after a brutal succession. I wasn’t even fully recovered myself before the first battle at High Towers.”

“High Towers? That was a fort on the border, and it only happened after you attacked Crescent Castle,” I argued.

“I may be getting old, but my memory has not left me yet, Vasquez. And do you genuinely believe that I would lie so many years later? For what do I have to gain? Indeed, it can’t be some amount of pity from a man whose father wasn’t even born yet when things began,” Thrandil countered.

I scoffed. “I know not what you have to gain, but I have seen plenty of information that says otherwise. I’ve read over many, many old texts and agreements sent by Tel’an’duth. Most, if not all, of them showed the gross ‘treaties’ that you attempted to force upon us in the name of peace.”

“And I was the one who wrote and read many treaties, and it was Brax who sent impossible demands. I even have the original documents in the Imperial Vault. I was even the first to broker peace, setting territory lines to how they were before the war with a hundred-year guarantee of peace. Do tell me if you read that one, mmm?” Thrandil asked.

Is any of this true? The discrepancies… are far too prominent in what he is saying and what I know. And it is true, what does the old, former emperor have to gain by lying to a single man in a besieged city? Could it be that…there was some foul play between our nations? A thi—a third party…a nation that played both sides of the war…I see…that is a possibility.

Just like today’s events, could the Holy Kingdom have orchestrated everything? Just like His Highness believes?

…

It matters not. Not at the moment, at least.

I put a hand up to stop him. “This conversation matters not. These events may as well be ancient history compared to what needs to be done today. You should attend to your own affairs. The undead may be at our doorstep before we know it.”

Thrandil shrugged as he stood up. “I suppose you are right. There is much that needs to be done.”

But he paused halfway while leaving the room, and gave me an annoyed look. “What now?” I questioned.

“You just called me ancient…that’s not very nice. That could very well be an act of war, insulting royalty in such a way,” he said playfully.

But am I wrong? I probably won’t live to see sixty, let alone a hundred. Three hundred years may as well be an eternity when I can’t remember what I had for dinner a week ago.

“Yes, I apologize from the bottom of my heart, Your Grace…please forgive this old soldier this one time,” I sighed.

Thrandil chuckled to himself as he walked out of the room. “Funny too…”

—

Kaladin Shadowheart’s POV.

After the meeting, I met with Sylvia in our room to discuss what had been said and what we were doing as we moved forward. The only reason she hadn’t been present was that she was resting after staying up for two days to be on call for any emergencies.

“You are saying that someone who is a powerful mage needs to die to use a dungeon item? What kind of crap is that?” Sylvia hissed.

“It’s true. Prince Xander and Thrandil both said as such. Apparently, the item is strong enough to destroy a large group of enemies and change the landscape forever, but at the cost of a life,” I explained.

Sylvia scratched her chin only to shrug. “And you want to avoid that…I suppose I may be able to do something. How does the person die? Do they…drop dead? Or turn into dust or something?”

“That I do not know for certain,” I said, shaking my head.

Sylvia rocked back and forth in the chair before saying, “Then maybe I could use the item? I’m not technically a mage in the usual sense, but maybe it will still work. The odds of me dying are pretty low after all.”

“Absolutely not. You directly using the item is out of the question,” I said firmly.

Sylvia smiled softly to herself and said, “Mmm, okay. Then I won’t even try. But if you want me to save someone, I must bite them directly. There’s no telling what may happen at that point. I could very well die with them.”

I put a hand to my face and sighed. “That…is true.”

Sylvia crossed her legs on the chair and gave me a worried look. “Can I ask what is making you so worried? Obviously, you don’t want some innocent person to die, but…if it’s a random person we don’t really know…would you stop them? Surely, everyone thinks this is a worthy sacrifice, so it’s not like it's in vain. And to be clear, I am more than willing to help whoever it is.”

“That’s the issue. It won’t be a random person, will it? Prince Xander didn’t specify the exact details of a ‘strong mage,’ but let’s assume for such a powerful item to work, it needs someone at the Grandmaster level. Not many people can fill that slot…and the ones that can are all people we know,” I said.

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Sylvia put a finger to her chin as her eyes grew dark with understanding. “Ah…you’re right. Not many people can be classified as such. And the top contender would be…Bowen, right? Or maybe even Vasquez,” she mused solemnly.

“Exactly, and regardless of who it is, I would prefer to avoid the needless death of another just to gain an edge in this battle,” I said.

Sylvia suddenly stood up and said, “Well, talking about it here won’t get us anywhere. If we want to know for sure, we have no choice but to go talk with Prince Xander.”

“Indeed.”

—

“This is not happening. Neither of you are allowed to use the item, which is final,” Prince Xander said before we even got a chance to speak.

“Exactly, this won’t do. I refuse, so don’t even bother offering,” Lauren added instantly.

I exchanged confused looks with Sylvia and explained to them, “That’s not why we came to you…”

The two royal siblings exchanged looks and even looked behind them to see Ren. Ren just shrugged with a soft smile.

Huh, it seems like the three of them are actually getting along. A few months ago, I’m pretty sure Lauren would have been ripping her hair out if she had to deal with Xander this long. Maybe the battle is just that dire, so putting their differences away is only natural.

Prince Xander awkwardly cleared his throat and said, “I see…then, I apologize for my hasty and unnecessary comment.”

“Then what would you like to talk about? Of course, both of you are always welcome to speak with us,” Lauren stated.

“Has anyone offered to take the position and use the item?” I asked.

Lauren gloomily shook her head. “No, not yet. It’s a rather complex topic to approach. We haven’t made demands of anyone but fear that we may have to decide ourselves in the end,” she said.

Sylvia raised her hand and asked, “Could you tell us how the person died when using the item? Like, what happened to them?”

“I was told that the person just died instantly after using the item. There were no apparent injuries to their body. They were alive one moment, and then dead the next,” Prince Xander explained.

“Was anyone around the mage affected?” I asked.

Prince Xander had a pensive look for a moment before saying, “No, I don’t recall any damage being done to those around the mage. But to be fair, I didn’t ask such a question. The only worry was that if the item was not correctly used, it may misfire, which would undoubtedly lead to unforeseen and dramatic consequences for us.”

“Then I want to offer my help. I can avoid the worst case if I try to keep the person alive. I can’t guarantee anything…but at the very least, I could ease their pain, if there was any,” Sylvia offered.

Prince Xander narrowed his eyes. “This…is too great a risk. You're far too valuable as an asset to take such a risk, Sylvia. We have no way of testing the item, let alone the effects it would have on a Vampire. There’s a possibility that you may die alongside the mage.”

“That’s right. We understand that your healing abilities are impressive, but this is an instant death that we are talking about. There are no precedents for it,” Lauren added.

The item may not be so mysterious.

“But what if the death isn’t magical in nature? What if the item stops the heart or affects the brain in some capacity? In such a case, Sylvia would be able to save that person. She can even tell by using her sword, not directly connecting herself to the person until the time to act. Sure, it may be a matter of seconds, but if Sylvia was put into position, I trust that she can do it,” I said.

“You would go so far as to risk your life for a person you don’t even know yet?” Prince Xander asked Sylvia.

Sylvia looked at me, and I nodded for her to continue. “After talking amongst ourselves, we figured the pool of people you can pull from is relatively small. You can’t ask a random person but a powerful mage, right? And you can’t force, say, Prince Leopold or His Majesty Thrandil. And even if they offered, you would have to decline them,” Sylvia reasoned.

“So that leaves it to someone on our side. We guess you are thinking of Bowen or even Vasquez.”

Prince Xander shut his eyes, and Lauren and Ren averted their own. It appears their train of thought was the same as ours. Of course, it was the only natural conclusion to arrive at. It had to be someone from Luminar who was incredibly gifted in magic.

“Rather than just letting them die a martyr, at least allow me to try and protect them. All I ask is to make an attempt,” Sylvia requested.

Lauren looked up at Sylvia and smiled. “Please, allow us some time to think it over. This decision shouldn’t be made lightly.”

“Alright,” Sylvia agreed.

“Thank you for seeing us then. We’ll take our leave,” I said.

—

After leaving the royal siblings, I separated from Sylvia to allow her more time to rest, as my next rotation was on the horizon. I prepared myself for the day, and when the bells came tolling, I made my way back to the Western wall.

The scene was rather grim. The immense undead horde from the west looked no smaller than it had at the start of the siege. The battlefield was littered with the undead, arrows, boulders, and bolts. The siege machines tirelessly launched projectiles into the horde, decimating the shambling undead. Only for them to eventually rise again.

But there were just too many. It mattered not if the boulder from a catapult crushed dozens; the sheer amount was overwhelming to the point one could not see the ground underneath. And the rotting stench looming over everyone was oppressive and draining. The faces of the defenders did not inspire confidence, tired as they looked.

Perhaps the relentless onslaught drained them, or the enemy they faced did. As Thrandil said, it was undoubtedly demoralizing to face an enemy that never wavered while the numbers never visibly decreased. Thankfully, from what I was told, diseases had yet to show, but the amount of minor injuries were mounting thanks to the random attacks from enemy archers.

I looked over the wall at the piling and writhing corpses. I launched a Fireball directly into the mass, reducing those caught in the initial blast to dust while body parts and viscera flew in every direction. That was the main problem. The Zombies and Skeletons that were not entirely destroyed eventually returned to the pile. Guards would pour boiling oil over the walls, fire arrows, or drop rocks. Mages could crush the horde with boulders, wash them away with water, or slice them into pieces with wind, but only fire guaranteed they remained dead forever.

It was a similar scene across the entire wall. As the piles grew, a team of fire mages would be dispatched to burn it down. So far, no pile had reached halfway up the walls, but as the undead surrounded the city, the amount of corpse mountains would stretch the mages thin.

I made myself worthwhile and helped where I could when I wasn’t burning piles of undead. I helped carry wounded to the lifts to be extracted or carried crates of bolts or arrows to locations. But as I was moving a box to a ballista, a rain of arrows landed on the wall. Most of them fell short or harmlessly landed somewhere else, but a few did manage to find a target.

One of the defenders was struck in the shoulder and dropped a bundle of arrows as he cried out in pain. I hopped onto the wall and immediately spotted a group of Skeletons in tattered clothes with bows in their hands amongst the horde. They were already preparing another barrage but I took my spear out from my Spatial Ring and pointed the golden tip at them.

I launched a flurry of Fireballs at the group, and the orange globs of flames raced off to their destination. I peppered the entire area, scattering the bones everywhere and making a sizeable crater. One thing of benefit was that the weapons used by the undead were finite. The bows and arrows, if destroyed or damaged, did not regenerate like the bodies. It was a minor victory, but it was nonetheless a victory.

Afterward, I went to help the wounded man, but he was already being dragged away to safety, so I returned to my mage duties. I sent a torrent of flames into a growing pile and continued along the wall, dispatching the most prominent groups. I spent most, if not all, of my time during my shift doing exactly that. I exhausted most of my mana by the end, making a severe dent in the piles, but by the time I returned, it was guaranteed to be right back where I left them.

The bells rang, and the three-hour shift had ended. I piled onto one of the lifts with everyone to return to the camp for rest and food before my second shift of the day. But as the lift reached the bottom and people began to funnel out, the bells rang restlessly again, singing the dread song of an emergency.

Damn. What now? It’s too soon for the siege weapons from the undead to arrive. They would have been spotted.

“Get the wounded off! Send everyone else back up! We have an emergency!” someone barked.

The wounded were offloaded and everyone else was sent back to the top. The defenders were rushing around frantically, looking over the walls and shouting. I grabbed a Luminar officer and asked him what was going on.

“My Lord! Ghouls have snuck through the horde and are climbing the walls in mass! We have to stop them!” he explained.

Ghouls, huh?

I had faced them in the dungeon. They were somewhere between a Zombie and a Skeleton in appearance. They possessed sharpened bones that could slice through armor and weapons and relied on speed and agility to cause havoc.

I peered over the edge and heard the snarling of the undead as the creatures scaled the wall. They shoved their sharp fingers and toes into the stone and moved up at surprising speed. I formed a rock with earth magic and launched it, sending the undead back into the mass. In every direction, the amount of Ghouls climbing the walls grew by the minute; they must have numbered in the hundreds.

I should have saved some mana…