“What?” Jeremy asked as he brushed off specks of dirt from Shelby. “You don’t want to go in?”

The snail seemed to shrink as she responded with clicks and whistles.

“Oh, you can’t go in.”

Jeremy turned to Dallarath and the rest of his party and shrugged.

“I guess we’ll be going in without Shelby. Something about enchanted walls preventing her from phasing through.”

Dal nodded in understanding, but the rest of his party seemed hesitant to go forward without the snail.

Jeremy understood their sentiment. Shelby would miss out on exploring the underground base and probably most of the action fun.

“If you’d rather not go in, raise a hand — I won’t hold it against you.”

A couple of hands rose — the healer’s and the scout’s. Dallarath’s hand followed as he moved towards the mage.

“We’d rather not go down their base, wizard,” he started, “but we will.”

He glanced at his party, receiving nods from each one.

“We’re ridding the world of cultists that attacked Bountiful — it’s a worthwhile risk.”

Jeremy thought the half-elf was overthinking things. They were going against cultists not demon lords. The weight he put in his words seemed overblown — especially since the cultists trapped themselves in their hole.

Then again, he preferred battling with demon lords — not that he had many chances to. He was more familiar with their thinking. Hell — their thinking was his thinking, seeing as they were in his head all the time.

“Any of you have people in there?”

“What?” an outraged Dallarath sharply turned to the wizard.

“Not you guys. I was communing with higher beings.”

The half-elf frowned not understanding his words.

Jeremy waited in silence. He took a deep breath as if absorbing the ambiance.

“None? Really? Not one? And sorry Idlis, the snakes were weak. You should have made them strong enough to eat the cultists.”

The wizard smiled as he turned to the party. He didn’t mind talking in their presence — they were hired help, after all. They also probably thought he was a bit insane, as everyone did, talking to himself won’t change their evaluation of him. Then again...

“Sorry, commune spell. You know the thing — higher being problems.”

He could see the doubt in their eyes, especially in the healer’s.

“That’s not how commune works,” Remilla’s eyes darted left and right, afraid to meet the wizard’s.

“Hehehe,” Siege laughed. “The boss’ higher beings are not the usual ilk. They have quirky habits and personalities.”

The others seemed to accept the dwarf’s explanation. It was believable, not everyone’s higher beings were the same.

“I should probably set this here,” Jeremy muttered as he places a small glass pyramid on the ground.

It shimmered for a few seconds before shooting a green beam of light into the air.

“That should do the trick. Help Lucas too with his wagon.”

Jeremy stared at the cave and then the dead snakes around it. Since they were hunting rats, what better way to clear their nest than to send snakes after them?

“Awaken!”

***

Aven’R saw the serpents rise. Their lifeless bodies were held together by necrotic energy, but the scout could detect something else — something more sinister, even infernal.

She assumed the Scourge was a necromancer from the very beginning. With his black robes, aura of death, and now a scythe — his whole look was screaming necromancer.

Of course, most necromancers took actual effort to hide their dark practices. Jeremy seemed to want to scare people.

Or maybe not.

It looked like he actually liked the scythe. Aven’R remembered seeing the wizard cutting dandelions on the field — he looked quite adept at its use.

The aura of death had something to do about jerms. She remembered the illustrations on their first escort mission to the swamps. They illustrated the wizard’s obsession with jerms and how he was deathly afraid of them.

He was either oblivious to how he looked like, or he thought looking like a necromancer was a good cover. It was probably the former.

Four of the snakes went down the cave. At first, she thought the Scourge chose the smallest ones so they can make their way through the caves easier — then she remembered him asking if there was a market for snake parts.

The wizard was a conundrum. He seemed terrifying and pleasant at the same time. Like… like… like his snail! Oh, the two were meant to be together.

Their party just followed the four huge snakes. The wizard told them to capture any cultists they see, saying it was up to Sebas if they lived or died. Those were strange words coming from the Scourge. Why would his butler have the final say on the fate of the cultists?

They saw broken bodies as they went further down. Rem did what she could to keep them alive and the Scourge even provided healing drops for those with serious injuries.

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Dallarath complained — but he was assured that the drops used on the cultists would not be charged to their party.

She couldn’t help notice that Jeremy was also marking the walls with some kind of light magic as they moved. She wanted to tell him that she was attuned to space so there was no way for them to get lost.

It felt like a clean-up mission — until she felt the surge of power.

The cave shook, parts of it collapsing behind them. The injured cultists would be buried alive. Sure, some of them probably deserved the gruesome fate — but a few cultists seemed too young and naive to be actually evil.

The Scourge led them to a large cavern where a hideous obese man was waiting for them.

“So you brought friends with you,” he squeaked. “Good. More deaths to satiate my appetite.”

Aven’R barely held a giggle. The man’s voice was surprisingly high — like a kid’s.

“Mister Malice, we meet at last,” the Scourge bowed mockingly. “You have quite a unique appearance — and by unique, I mean eunuch.”

“You…” Malice’s eyes steeled in rage. “Tenebrous!”

***

Shadowy tendrils erupted from the ground grasping for Jeremy. They converged on the wizard, enveloping him in a shadowy cocoon.

Inside the cocoon, the steel band of Jeremy’s staff flared — hindering the shadows and humidity, while also cooling the temperature.

“Hmm… quite refreshing,” Jeremy was quite pleased with his staff’s function. He debated on whether to stay inside the shadowy cocoon and wait things out or just break through with force.

The first option would deplete Malice’s mana ever so slowly — while also allowing him to stay fresh and cool. There was hardly any reason to choose the second option.

“Jeremy! Are you ok?”

Ah, the others. I guess there’s no avoiding it.

The circle of cool air expanded around the shadowy tendrils. The tendrils resisted for a moment before the growing sphere shredded them to pieces.

Cool dry air filled the large cavern.

“Take him down!” roared Dallarath.

Jeremy admired his choice of words as well as the delivery. He thought about making a list of phrases to shout during battles or other situations that required yelling.

The party sprung into action — however, Malice was just too far away.

Dallarath’s party revolved around their two fighters — and both were useless against a spellcaster more than two hundred steps away.

Surprisingly, they led with two arrows from Aven’R and a bolt from Remilla.

Gwin touched Siege while casting a spell, and soon the dwarf was flying across the cavern.

Dallarath was running after the flying dwarf, swords drawn and ready to strike.

Malice waved a hand sending four bolts of flame towards the approaching warriors.

Instead of using his shield, the dwarf used his sword to strike the fiery bolts — dissipating one and taking a hit from the other.

Jeremy was impressed by the dwarf’s use of his sword. The cold blade was no mere magical weapon — it was more of a concept that took the form of a sword.

The two bolts headed for the half-elf hit nothing but air — Dallarath just vanished.

So he was that kind of elf. Formidable.

The half-elf appeared behind Malice — only to be backhanded by the cultist.

Dallarath crashed into a wall and then the ground.

Or not.

Malice’s strike was surprisingly strong — perhaps backed by a spell or magical item.

Siege lunged for the cultist before he could turn, but time seemed to slow down for the dwarf — his movements all but slowed to a halt.

Malice picked up a nearby sword, probably dropped by one of the cultists. He raised the sword high and swung, intent on decapitating the dwarf.

The sword struck — inches away from the dwarf’s neck.

Malice stared at the sword in his hand, seemingly confused that he had missed.

The dwarf’s use of grabity impressed Jeremy. He had two spells at the ready, but he held his hand when he saw the changing trajectory of the sword.

The two were simply too close for him to cast his spells safely, and he didn’t have the months of learned coordination and training Dallarath’s party had.

Then again, dwarves were hardy.

Jeremy extended his hand, sending five orbs of hellfire towards the two. The dwarf had his sword but Malice would need to burn mana to dispel their effects.

To his surprise, the cultist grabbed the slowed dwarf and hurled him into the oncoming orbs.

All five hit the dwarf, exploding with a bang and enveloping him in fire.

Jeremy immediately banished the hellfire, but the dwarf was out cold.

He turned to the three sisters, hearing their gasps of surprise and horror.

“It’s what Siege would have wanted,” he shrugged. “Oh no — I meant noooooo, Siege!”

His antics infuriated Malice further.

“You think this is a joke, wizard?” he roared. “Watch your friends get buried alive.”

He wrenched an amulet tied around his neck, flinging it towards the sisters.

“Shield up,” Jeremy warned.

The cave collapsed around the three siblings.

Gwindin managed to put up a shield before they were buried underneath tons of earth and stone.

Jeremy locked eyes on the elven mage, seeing the determination in her eyes as she left the task of finishing Malice to him.

“Just you and me, boy” Malice sneered. “Just you and me.”

Jeremy wondered at the concept. Since he was never truly alone, how could it be just Malice and him? He wanted to correct the cultist — but then he remembered that it was this particular cultist that made him who he was. What he was.

His eyes swept the cavern. The dwarf, the half-elf, the sisters — they weren’t there anymore, and Jeremy stopped caring.

He unleashed hell on Malice — raining fire, lightning, ice, and whatever he could throw at the damned cultist.

It was met with laughter.

“Strong, but untrained,” Malice snickered. “Like a child with a hammer. You can break things, but you can’t stand against a proper adult.”

Malice glowed with power.

He unleashed his own barrage of spells — precise and calculated ones.

Jeremy barely managed to put up a shield after the first few hits. He was bleeding and bruised, but his staff allowed him to heal while focusing on maintaining his shield.

And he could maintain his shield — indefinitely, even.

It was a stalemate.

He could probably break it with the help of a demon or two, but he doubted if unleashing a demon lord on the world was less harmful than letting a cultist live.

“I give up, I give up. I tried my best.”

Jeremy flung up his hands as he smiled at Malice.

“That’s it?” Malice raged. “Everyone died in this place. My acolytes, your friends — now you just give up, just like that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jeremy shrugged. “Everyone’s probably up there getting sorted out.”

“You...”

“Me?”

“You...”

“This is taking too long,” Jeremy sighed. “I can’t kill you, you can’t kill me — and you’ve been watching for far too long.”

“What?” Malice seemed baffled by the wizard’s words. “Who’s been watching?”

“I was never meant to face you Mister Malice,” Jeremy admitted. “I just got carried away.”

Light poured into the cavern from above as the earth above split in two, revealing fiery wings.

“Malice.”

“Blackstaff.”

“Jeremy.”

“Father.”