After meeting Wilhelm Adler, Reinfried and I paid a visit to the castle’s experienced medic. She used healing magic to restore us to perfect condition. Unlike my simple incantation, her spells healed wounds and broken bones. I now knew the secret behind Lord Faust’s longevity: the medical care available to him was unworldly.

Even after the treatment, however, Reinfried and I still needed food and sleep. A quick meal silenced our stomachs. Then we retired to two rooms in the castle’s west wing and rested until it was noon. The beds were gold-plated; the mattresses were soft; and the pillows were feathery. When I woke up, I felt as if I had been floating in the placid waters of Lake Arcadia for the past six hours.

Shortly afterward, Lord Faust, Reinfried, and I left the castle and followed the mountain trails. The future of Ashenbrook depended on us, and the lives of the townspeople were on the line. We needed to locate the cultists and foil their plots before they could unleash their monsters and demons.

“Are you sure we’ll find them in the mountains?” I said as I stepped in mud.

“Yes,” Lord Faust replied. “Their holy sites are in this area.”

“What are our chances of winning?” I pestered him. “Did you think this over? Did you consider the possible scenarios?”

“You ask useless questions.” He looked disgusted with me. “If we raid the cultists’ hideout now, we employ the element of surprise. Our chances of winning are the highest this way.”

“If we wait, we can ask for reinforcements from outside the town,” I said.

“Then what?” Lord Faust looked even more disgusted. “The demons will have a feast! Haven’t you heard what Wilhelm said? This is not a battle that we can win by numbers. We can only depend on your immunity.”

I nodded and wondered again why Reinfried and I had survived.

Think, Lance. Think. Was it just warmth? Didn’t you feel something other than the heat? I closed my eyes and remembered what had happened. When the demons attacked, before the warmth filled my body, there was a dim light. Yes, it was coming from under my clothes. Could it be… I searched my pockets. I had my compass, my map, my flares. And this.

I found Demetrius’s card—the seven of clubs that he had thrown at me when we first met. I had forgotten about it, and it had remained in my pocket all this time. I examined it with care. It seemed like an ordinary playing card except that it was made of rigid, unpliable material.

Maybe I’m overthinking.

I was about to put it away, but then I noticed that its corner had roughened. Checking the tiny, coarse bumps, I realized that the card was made of more than one layer. With my fingernails, I scratched the edge several times until the outer layer came off. Underneath, I found cryptic drawings and ancient characters.

Could it be… Is Demetrius…

“Lord Faust,” I said, walking next to him. “You’re a mage, right?”

“Do you still doubt it?”

“No, I could tell from the start. There’s something magical about you.”

“I’m not a fan of sarcasm.”

“Sorry, sir!” I grinned. “Since you’re a mage, could you tell me what this is?”

I handed him the card. While he looked at it, a sudden fit of coughing seized him. His face turned slightly red, and sweat slid down his forehead. After he had recovered, he said, “I apologize. The pollen affects my breathing.”

This is why the elderly should stay home.

“This card is amusing,” he added. “The writing is nonsensical, but it looks like a magical formula. Whoever made it must be popular in parties and balls.”

“I knew it,” I laughed. I was really overthinking.

“Who gave it to you?” Lord Faust handed the card back.

“A local performer.”

“If you paid for a magical item, you’ve been tricked.”

“Don’t worry,” I laughed again. “I’m not that stupid.”

Our conversation stopped here. Reinfried, who was a few steps ahead, raised the old map and pointed at the distance. “The entrance to the underground caverns is over there.”

We left the mountain trail. After a short walk through dense thickets, a grim sight loomed out of the fog. We found the first evidence that the Cult of Belphegor was hiding in the mountains: there were tens of stakes ending in gory skulls. The skulls were broken and cracked. Some were missing their jaws, while others were split in half. They had been toyed with before they were left as warning signs. We proceeded with caution through this unsightly area, avoiding the frosty bones and dangling tendons, until we found ourselves standing in front of a cave’s entrance. On the muddy ground were fresh footprints.

“This is the spot,” Reinfried said. “According to the maps, there are over fifty underground rooms. Should we head inside?”

“We can’t cower now.” I drew my sword.

Reinfried was the first to enter, and I was the last. For the first time, I saw Lord Faust use magic. He cast a spell and lit our surroundings with a ball of light that rested on his palm. It was frustrating to see someone use magic so casually. I couldn’t believe it, but I envied Lord Faust for his abilities.

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“Be careful you don’t trip,” Reinfried said. “The ground slopes.”

After a short descent, we were standing in front of a wooden door. White paint had been recently used to draw a headless sheep near the knob. This evidence erased all remaining doubt: the Cult of Belphegor was revived, and we were inside its hideout.

“Lord Faust, please back us up,” Reinfried whispered. “Lance and I will attack.”

“I’ll go right,” I said.

Reinfried nodded with Silverthorne ready in his hand.

On the count of three, we pushed the door open and dashed into the room. The black-clad cultists had been waiting for us. They held thick grimoires and raised their hands to cast spells, but we were faster than they had anticipated.

In the blink of an eye, Reinfried was standing in front of the two enemies on the left. They released undead hounds at him. Guttural growls reverberated through the cave, and rabid jaws clattered, but Reinfried held his ground and retaliated with shiny slashes.

On the other side of the room, I was zigzagging closer to three enemies. They launched fireballs the size of my head, but I avoided one shot after the other, leaving behind me a blazing trail. Next, they fired thunderbolts—discharges that killed and vanished like an undetectable poison—but I hid behind the columns that supported the roof, then closed in with a series of slides and rolls.

“Retreat!” Their confidence suddenly turned into distress.

Before they could turn around, however, I lunged at them with my sword. A feint and a slash took care of the first. The other two raised daggers and circled around me like vultures. They picked the best moment to strike, but I didn’t let them stab me. I spun my body and kicked one to the ground. Then I blocked the other’s dagger and pushed him back.

“The enemies of the cult will perish!”

“We won’t let you ruin our dream.”

The battle was one-sided, but they refused to surrender. They stood up again and recited cryptic incantations. It seemed that they were planning to cause an explosion, so I removed knives from my belt and threw them in haste. These knives interrupted the magical chanting. Then I advanced into close range, slashed twice with my sword, and ended the fray.

“It seems you needed no help.” Lord Faust walked into the room. “Reinfried, your swordsmanship was exemplary. And using the knives was quite resourceful of you, Lance.”

“Thank you, Lord Faust,” Reinfried said. “ Let’s continue moving. It’s a long way to the main chamber.”

***

Several skirmishes followed the first. The demons, however, never attacked; there were only cultists and reanimated corpses. Reinfried and I decimated their ranks, and Lord Faust supported us from a distance. An old man on the verge of senility—he was a bit late on a few occasions, but his magic saved us from many difficult situations. After a long journey through the serpentine tunnels and perilous caves, we arrived at the intersection of two paths.

“One leads directly to the main chamber. The other goes through several rooms first,” Reinfried said. “According to the map, the main chamber is the largest. The cultists may be preparing an ambush there. It will be their final struggle.”

“And they outnumber us,” Lord Faust remarked. “Do you have a plan?”

Reinfried and I looked at each other and remained silent.

“I will compensate for the brains that you lack.” Lord Faust snatched the map and examined it for a few minutes. After he had traced the most promising lines, his face lit up—as if he had been proud of himself—and he said without further thought, “We should split up.”

The idea was surprising.

“Listen attentively,” he continued, “Lance and I will follow the shorter path. We will rush into the ambush like two unsuspecting idiots. At the same time, Reinfried will go down the longer path, arrive unexpected, and attack the cultists from behind. The plan is foolproof.”

“But there’s a risk,” I said. “Reinfried might get attacked while he’s alone.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Reinfried said with resolve. “The plan seems logical. Since we’re already outnumbered, attacking as a group offers no real advantage.”

“Are you sure about this?” I said.

“Yes. This is the best way to proceed.”

“Be careful. And retreat if you find yourself in a difficult situation.”

“What’s wrong, Lance?” Reinfried said. “You remind me of Marie.”

“A master always worries about his students.”

He laughed, “I won’t disappoint you, Master Ainsworth.” Then he turned around and walked into the tunnel on the left. I watched for a while until he disappeared into the darkness.

“Everything will be fine,” I said, “since it’s Reinfried.”

“Yes, not for nothing was he knighted.”

Lord Faust and I chose the other tunnel and advanced toward the main chamber. The walls were covered in ancient drawings and carvings. As I looked at them, I thought about the Cult of Belphegor. Why do people leave society, settle in such dingy places, and commit such atrocious acts? What do they gain or accomplish? No matter how hard I squeezed my brain, the motives of the cult remained as indecipherable as the drawings on the walls.

“What do you think of Valentine Faust and Zeke Yuchi?” Lord Faust said, and I turned my attention to him. “Tell me your honest opinion, Lance.”

“Uh, the two were heroes,” I said. “They fought demons and destroyed an entire cult of lawless mages. That’s not an easy task.”

“You are naive.”

What’s his problem? I said my honest opinion.

He continued, “Zeke Yuchi entered the Seventh Labyrinth but returned empty-handed.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Imagine if he had returned with a staff that could revive the dead or a potion that could smite a filthy liar.”

I took a moment to consider the possibilities before I said, “He went to another world, and that’s enough.”

“Enough?”

“Yeah, a visit to the Seventh Labyrinth—that’s my dream.”

Lord Faust didn’t comment.

We saw the famed “light at the end of the tunnel,” but it didn’t signify hope. It was escaping from cracks in a large wooden door and only warned of an upcoming confrontation. How many cultists would be waiting? What tricks would they have up their sleeves? What would they do when I corner them—in a moment of sheer desperation? I knew only one thing: the fight wouldn’t be easy.

I stopped at the entrance to the main chamber, took a deep breath, and gestured to Lord Faust that I would be heading inside. He nodded and gestured that he would follow me.

The Cult of Belphegor will be buried here. I gripped my sword more tightly. It will be forgotten again, and I will return to Rick with the prize money.

I kicked the chamber’s door open. Expecting unceasing attacks, I lurched to the left and rolled forward. Then I got up and started running to confront the enemy. Mid-sprint, however, I noticed that no one had attacked me. There were neither fireballs nor sparks. No daggers. No grimoires. No angry shouts. I slowed down and finally stopped. No matter where I looked, I couldn’t find an enemy.

“There is no need to search so desperately,” Lord Faust said. “I told them to give us some privacy. I wanted to talk to you without distractions.”

I turned around and saw him enter the vast chamber.

“The look on your face is priceless,” he laughed politely, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “Your naiveté has been rather entertaining… and annoying.”