In her dark room in the Tiih chapel of the Shean Faith Saana sat with her legs crossed in a meditative pose. Taking in a deep breath, she released it. Then she opened her eyes and did it again. The process was repeated until she stabilised the painful thumping of her aged heart.

Then she looked down at the dust in front of her. A few minutes ago it had been a withered foot belonging to her target. The fact that it had been reduced to dust only meant one thing.

It is done, she thought, expelling a relieved breath.

Using the necromancer’s foot as a medium, she was able to pinpoint his location and strike. The spell she had used was 8th Order [Glorious Descent], which not only brought down an intense beam of light from the sky on to her target, but its aftermath summoned a light elemental for her to control.

One should never take half measures when dealing with the foulness that is necromancers. The reason she used this spell was to make sure that, even if he somehow survived, she would still be able to finish the job.

Unfortunately, 8th Order spells were extremely texting and with her lower end B aptitude a spell such as this drained quite a lot of her mana. As for taking control of the elemental, it put a strain on her body. She might be able to cast the spell again but in her current deteriorated state she would not be able to take control of the next elemental that showed up.

Fortunately, she did not have to do so.

Still, thinking back to what she had witnessed through the “eyes” of the elemental, she could not help being puzzled.

A phantom that can use magic? Since when?

The reason these species of undead were called phantoms was because, even though they might not be ghosts, they were just as invisible. With their capabilities to evade anyone and appear anywhere the creatures were a nightmare during the Days of Gloom. Back then they could appear in the most secure locations and strike down the most guarded targets. The fact that they could blend in with humans made them all the more harder to catch. Therefore, when influential figures suddenly started dropping with their throats slit by seemingly no one, the panicked masses referred to them as having been “killed by phantoms.”

That was how the creatures got their name.

Back then the terror of these undead was so bad that after the Days of Gloom their information had been sealed. Usually, an 8th Order priestess like Saana should not even know about their existence. However, long ago on a missionary quest to the far south she had encountered this creature when it assassinated a promising Paladin sprout. Back then she had been lucky to get away with her life.

Comparing the phantom from back then to the one she had just fought while puppeteering the elemental, the one from before was definitely superior. Even so, this one gave her the feeling that it was more troublesome. After all, the phantom from back then could only use its racial abilities to fight while this one clearly had not mastered them yet. It could even use magic, which included extremely potent Dark Magic.

It must have been a Netherkin, she thought.

The fact that a necromancer who was not even at senior level managed to summon the kind of creature that even Transcendent mages struggled to was too ridiculous. If such a character could ascend to the higher Orders they would no doubt be a serious disaster.

Luckily I found him before that, she thought as she released another relieved breath.

With the necromancer dead and the contract broken there was nothing left to tether the undead to the Main Plane. By this time it must already have been cast back into the Deadlands where it belonged.

Thinking this, Saana shifted her posture to sit on her knees and raised her hands in prayer form in front of the dimly glowing sunflower idol. Now that the problem had been resolved there was no need to concern herself with it anymore.

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Still, she let out another sigh at the fact that a potential danger had been solved before it could evolve into a calamity.

Good riddance.

***

After the bond shattered… Sage did not disappear.

Looking down at herself, she figured out the reason quickly.

The fact that she was from the Deadlands was true; and now that the contract between her and Bori had been broken she could definitely feel a force trying to drag her back into the desolate plane. However, not all of her was from the Deadlands. The reason why she was still here even after her anchor had died was because of this.

When the old necromancer first summoned her she had been nothing more than a ghost. However, by inhabiting a body that had been prepared for the ritual and absorbing materials of extremely high quality she had been turned into a phantom; so her current form was a product of this plane. That was why she was still here.

Unfortunately, the anchoring effect of this was only temporary. With each passing second she could feel the pull of the Deadlands growing stronger and the shackles of the Main Plane easing. At the rate things were going she suspected that within an hour or two the force would be enough to toss her back into the grey desert.

Fuck! She exclaimed, as she walked over to what was now the corpse of Bori.

The old man’s death had not been peaceful. The crushed limbs, the sunken chest and the dried blood trail running from his mouth; all of these indicated just how much pain he had endured in his final moments.

Looking at this pitiful form of a man who not long ago was excited about getting the chance to advance his craft, she could not stop the anger rising in her chest from boiling up.

“Nyx!” she called in a harsh voice.

She only had to wait for an instant before the black cat popped out of her shadow. Injuries were all over its body, but these wounds did not bleed. Instead they released shadowy tendrils, a testament to the cat’s elemental nature. Though, the rate at which the tendrils were leaving its body was steeply decreasing as the wounds sealed up.

After being summoned, Nyx took one look at her and immediately began to shiver. But she could have cared less about his reaction at this point. Swiping him by the neck, she brought him to eye level, where her dark orbs met his emerald ones; her intense glare causing his to flicker.

“Nyx. Is that fucking ability active?” she asked in a low voice.

“W-wh-what ability Master?” Nyx asked in return, nervousness clear in his tone.

“FUCKING {MISFORTUNE}!” she shouted. “WHEN I SUMMONED YOU DID YOU DEACTIVATE IT?”

“No?”

The response seemed to be a question. The look the cat gave her made her think that it did not know what the problem was.

Seeing its expression though, she wanted to explode.

FUCKING USELESS BEAST!

She should have known the worthless piece of shit would lack even the most basic common sense to turn off such an ability. Nyx really was to blame for all her problems since the day started. Fuck! Why had she even summoned him?

Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and exhaled.

Unfortunately, she did not have the time to sit and rage. The damage was done. Staying here and getting mad at the cat would only waste time. Right now what she needed to do was figure out what she should do next.

Taking another deep breath and releasing it, she opened her eyes and dropped Nyx.

“Find and take all the books and scrolls from underneath the rubble,” she ordered. “Also take everything that is valuable, give priority to gold. And make sure you miss nothing.”

“Yes Master,” the cat nodded timidly.

Then Sage’s glare intensified. “Before that deactivate {Misfortune} and never activate it until I say so. Understand?”

“Yes Master,” Nyx muttered while shaking.

After sending him off, she turned her attention back to Bori’s corpse.

Squatting down, she began to rummage through the ridiculously deep pockets of his tattered robes, coming out with a heavy coin purse and a few papers.

Looking at the papers, she realised that they were ones that held the model for the spell the old man was going to use to advance to the 7th Order. Sage could not help sigh in lamentation as she put the papers into her much smaller trouser pockets.

As she did so she could not help but notice her hand had become fainter, as if it was in the process of blurring. This would probably continue to happen as the pull of the Deadlands became stronger. She could just imagine how ghostly her appearance would be just before she was expelled from this plane.

She really did not want this to happen.

In the next moment she released another sigh, this time a remorseful one.

It was unfortunate that a bond could not be formed with non-living objects. There were some exceptions to this of course, like enchanted items and the like; but they could not tether her to a certain plane. Unless that was their purpose. Such items were rare, required powerful magic and took ages to craft. She was not holding her breath in hopes of finding one in the next hour or so.

As for her bond with Nyx, it was obviously not able to keep her here. After all, she was the one that kept the elemental cat tethered to this plane. Once she got kicked out of it he would be expelled with her.

If she wanted to remain in the Main Plane there was only one thing she could do.

Just thinking about it, a groan escaped her throat.