Ritzy and Gerhart would have been surprised by Mognog’s suddenly harsh words if they hadn’t reminded them of the scum that was responsible for Talia’s death. They had no time for things such as caring about Mognog’s abrupt change in temperament and the subsequent explosion of foul language.

Ritzy and Gerhart stopped walking as they fixed stony gazes on Lenny, who semi-consciously moved his body and tried to crawl away. However, he could only use one arm since there was an arrow in the other’s shoulder. His legs were also pretty useless.

The arrow lodged in one of them had gotten torn out when Gerhart dragged him across the village, but only after wreaking havoc on the muscles and flesh in Lenny’s leg.

Lenny moved at less than a snail’s pace, and neither of the two were worried that the deranged, crazed, crippled, and mumbling disgrace would get away. If anything, he would die before leaving the village since Gerhart’s treatment had ripped open the burn scars on Lenny’s face and given him several more holes to leak blood out of.

But neither Ritzy nor Gerhart wanted Lenny to die that easy of a death. Not that it had been easy since he had suffered so much that he had gone insane. But it wasn’t enough.

The sin of killing Talia wasn’t something that could be acquitted merely by enduring, or failing to endure, some meager physical torment. The only question was what they should do to ease some of the pain Talia’s passing had left them.

They probably couldn’t make Lenny experience the same thing since the town had already burned down, and if Lenny was that badly injured, the odds were that his children and mistress weren’t any better off.

Well, since Nentelle was the mayor’s wife, she could have been saved, but it wasn’t likely. The chaos wrought by the fire and the assassination of Michmond would have been too much for most people to care about some old hag that’s only good at nagging people.

It was a shame they could put Lenny through that suffering. Again. But then again, they would have had to go back to town for that, so it wasn’t possible, even if anyone had survived.

“Hey, kiddos. I know you want to take revenge and all that. But, for now, just make sure he doesn’t die or escape or something. You don’t have time to stand around and plan torture methods.”

Mognog could tell that they weren’t really listening. And he understood. He wouldn’t want to think about anything else other than how to torment the person who killed his best friend if they lay on the ground in front of him. That was why he understood how to get them going.

“Remember what I told you about assessing the situation and what tools and things you have available to you to find a way out of trouble? Yeah, that goes for other things as well. Since you can’t decide on how to torture that shit-sack of living dungrot, go and look for things you can use on him.”

Mognog’s words reached Ritzy and Gerhart and made their eyes sparkle with a malicious glint. They didn’t know what they would find that could help them make Lenny regret ever being conceived if he wasn’t already at that stage. But whatever they found was sure to be better than their bare hands.

Ritzy fetched his club and rested it atop Lenny’s back. Lenny was so damaged he didn’t even notice he couldn’t move anymore due to the bone club’s weight pressing down on him, much less notice the actual bone club.

Lenny’s empty eyes clung onto nothing in the middle of the air, and the fingers of his barely functioning hand dug into and scraped at the ground as he tried to drag himself forward. But, despite skinning his fingers until they bled and clawing until his fingernails came off, Lenny didn’t crawl even an inch forward.

Confirming that Lenny couldn’t move, Ritzy and Gerhart hurried through the village, gathering everything they found in front of Mognog. They laid it out in a row so that Mognog could begin analyzing everything and come up with a solution that would hopefully satisfy their strict requirements of saving Talia without it costing them their lives.

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However, there wasn’t much to find and gather, even if they took every last thing they found. The huts didn’t have much aside from a few trinkets that appeared to be the goblins’ decorations.

There were a few more bows and arrows and a couple of rusty shortswords, which Gerhart felt lucky the first goblin he encountered didn’t use. There were also several round-ish things that could either be some kind of meatloaf or an old piece of bread.

The loaves didn’t look very appetizing, but if it was food, it could potentially help them endure and last once they started moving. If it didn’t kill them first.

And then, there were the bags they had brought with them, the items they contained, and the dagger, bow, and arrows Lenny had brought.

Mognog looked at everything spread out before him and let out a thoughtful hum.

Mognog shifted his gaze toward the things he didn’t know what they were.

“Those two books and that stick. What are those?”

Mognog knew what a book was, but he could feel something different about the two old leathery, seemingly inconspicuous books. He also knew there had to be a reason behind why Ritzy and Gerhart had them.

“As far as we can tell, they are two spellbooks, and that is Ritzy’s Bone Chalk. It is used for summoning the undead. Mostly of the skeleton variety.”

“Yep, but I can also summon other things. I summoned this stuff.”

Ritzy ran a hand through his white hair.

“I see. How reliable is it?”

“...not very.”

“I would like you to tell me about the process, but first, what are the spells?”

“Mine was something called Sparking Arrow. Just so you know, we got these spellbooks when we cleared this dungeon, so we haven’t learned them yet.”

“Pssh. Spells are easy. Just read and do what it says.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t touched magic?”

“I haven’t. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know how magic works. Stay focused. What does Sparking Arrow do?”

Gerhart shrugged.

“I think it makes the arrow spark a little on impact.”

Mognog hummed.

“That can be useful. Start reading and start learning. Kiddo, what’s yours about?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get to check before things happened.”

Ritzy reached for his book, which was closer to black than Gerhart’s dusty brown one. He opened it.

“‘Deathbed - Resting place for the dead.’ Is what it says here.”

Gerhart looked up at Ritzy.

“You got a description?”

“Yeah. You didn’t?”

“Nope.”

“Guys, stay focused.”

Mognog didn’t know if it was because they were tired or if they sought distraction, but Ritzy and Gerhart grabbed any chance they could get their hands on to talk about something else.

“Kiddo, what do you think your spell does?”

Ritzy pondered for a few moments as he flipped through the flappy book.

“I think it’s a storage spell for my summons.”

Ritzy’s eyes lit up as he realized what the spell did.

“Woah! This is awesome. Not even some of the better necromancers have this kind of spell!”

Mognog thought for a few seconds before the flames in his eyesockets flickered in realization.

“The description said ‘the dead,’ right?”

Ritzy nodded.

“Yep.”

“Did it say anything, or is there anything about those dead being yours?”

“Hmm?”

Ritzy continued flipping through the book with a concentrated frown.

“...I’m not sure. I would have to learn it to be sure, but it doesn’t seem like it. I get the feeling that it opens a separate space, but I’m not sure what I can put inside.”

“Guys.”

Mognog’s eyes blazed a little stronger than before.

“I think I have a solution.”