The battle was over quickly. Despite the numbers involved, the aftermath was minimal. Tables and chairs lay scattered, a bookshelf had been toppled, and one of the tall pillars supporting the room was shattering into rubble. It could have been far worse.

Already, General Korteg was preparing for the next one. Soon, they would be entering Elenvine. There was no telling where the rift might connect to. If it was like the temple connected to Fishers Lake, they could expect the ruins of another wizard temple on the other side. Where that might be was anyone’s guess, but it would almost certainly be full of warlocks.

They had to be ready for another fight. Little time was wasted. Already, others were working on the central array, preparing the rift. Hump watched with keen interest before turning to the books throughout the temple, Nisha trailing behind him. They were ancient, written in the language of ancient wizards. Hump couldn’t read it, but if there were spellbooks here, he was pretty sure the Book of Infinite Pages could decipher it for him.

“What are you looking for?” Bud asked. The knight had been helping to clear the temple of bodies, piling them up against the walls where they would be out of the way.

“Nothing specific,” Hump said. “When faced with an ancient library like this, it’s hard not to take a peek.”

Bud leant closer, looking at the book. “Can you even read that?”

“Nope.” Hump added the book to his bag anyway.

“Then what good is it?”

Hump shrugged. “If nothing else, maybe Walt can learn something from it.” The house spirit was still hard at work in the phylactery library. It had been a while since Hump had checked in. He wondered if there had been progress on that door.

Hump looked back to the bodies of the warlocks they had killed. A few had been captured and were being interrogated now, but there was a lot he could learn just from seeing their faces. They were of different races: some had pale skin, others dark, though most bore the olive skin of the people of Alveron, he even saw a few of the giant people from the north that rivalled Bud for size. It seemed the warlocks drew their recruits from across the lands. Seeing it made him realise the true scale of their operation. The Order of Ancients, as the demon, Karlac, had called it, might extend across all the realms of the world. It would explain how so many could be stationed in a location as remote as this.

During the fight, he had noticed that not all were practitioners. Some were mere cultists, fanatics, but without essence, likely fighting for the promise of power in reward for their service. They looked young. Some perhaps younger than even Hump. The sight left a bitter taste in his mouth. These were desperate people, drawn into something far beyond their understanding, their lives wasted in pursuit of a false promise.

“It is a true shame that so many fall to their greed,” Bud said.

Hump looked at the knight and frowned. He considered how large a role his own master had in turning him into the man he was today. The old man’s values were what guided him. His lessons on magic, of course, but also on kindness and helping people.

“I could see a world where I was amongst these people,” Hump said.

Bud gave him a strange look, his face scrunched with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know of my background,” Hump said. “Imagine my master had not found me on the streets of Elenvine as a boy, but instead someone of this organisation had claimed me. They could have taught me magic, given me strength, and told me tales about the evil gods that locked the true rulers of the world away.” He shrugged. “It would not be hard to convince a young mind that this was a path worth following.”

Bud laughed and shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. You’re a good man, Hump. You would never have become one of these people.”

His friend thought highly of him, and in a sense that made Hump feel a little warmth, but he couldn’t help but see it as naivety. He saw himself in these faces—wizards and martials that had been forced to turn to secret knowledge out of fear that the world would look down on them. It was only as Hump had grown in strength and proven himself that Chosen had truly valued him. Prince Kassius, for all his flaws, had started on a path to prove himself to be no lesser than his brothers, and no doubt had found his place amongst people like this.

“You forget that I almost did fall,” Hump said. “There was a dragon in my soul.”

“Yes, but that wasn’t you.” Bud’s tone was dismissive, verging on frustrated.

“What’s the difference?”

“You didn’t choose that path,” Bud said. “It found you.”

Hump looked over the piles of bodies. “Do you think these people chose their path?” Hump pointed at a girl. “Look at her. She couldn’t be any older than we are. Wouldn’t surprise me if she’d grown up on the very same streets as me, watching Chosen and nobles living in luxury while we wondered where the next meal would come from. Now imagine a place that provided that meal—more than that, they taught you how to fight for yourself against all those that had looked down on you. Did she choose that path? In a way, sure. But when the choice is an exposed rooftop in the rain and half a stale loaf of bread or a company of mysterious practitioners offering you food and power, I know what I’d do.”

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“What’s that?” Bud asked, his voice quiet now.

“Food and power,” Hump said. “Any day.”

Bud frowned, thinking over his words. “You’re right. That’s not much of a choice at all. Though I still don’t believe you would ever harm innocents.”

“A young mind is highly impressionable.” Hump paused for a moment, and then decided to probe on a… sensitive matter. “Think of your own upbringing and the Pantheon. It has shaped your values, your actions, your entire life. How simple would it be for them to raise you on a false notion?”

“The Pantheon is righteous,” Bud said. “It is not the same!”

If only you knew, Hump thought. He watched his friend. For a few seconds, he wanted to spill everything: the tale Owalyn had told him of the Wandering Wizard and the Thirteen Thieves; the note left behind in his own spellbook about the betrayal of the Pantheon and their nefarious goals; the slave binding the enveloped Bud’s very soul. It would be such a relief to share the burden of this knowledge, but logic won out. This was not the time or place, Hump still hadn’t decided what to do, and there was no way he could force his friend into such a position.

Instead, he took a different angle. “There are still people alive now that would have witnessed the hunting and burning of wizards of the past. Was that righteous?”

Bud paused and took a deep breath. “I do not believe it was out of bad intentions. Warlocks are dangerous, and they are numerous as we can see now.”

“Yet a few centuries pass, and they decide wizards are now fine again,” Hump said. “What changed?”

Bud looked around, and Hump became suddenly aware of just how many Chosen were standing around.

Bud took a step closer, and said quietly, “I do not have all the answers. I have... questioned this very subject myself. What’s important is that whatever you might have been in another life, I believe in the Hump before me. And I hope you feel the same about me, whatever ideals my upbringing has instilled in me.” He grinned. “There is nobody I would rather have fighting at my side.”

A hole opened in Hump’s stomach at Bud’s words—guilt, shame, confusion. If all he knew were true, then it was not only warlocks that he had to contend with. The Pantheon at its very core was false. They were kings and queens of slaves, bound to them by blessings imbued upon the very souls of their Chosen. And Hump was their enemy.

Despite everything, Hump couldn’t help but grin back at Bud’s earnestness. “I do, my friend. You are the best of them, truly. Forgive my rant, I think the tiredness is starting to get to me.”

Bud clapped his shoulder and laughed. “There is nothing to forgive. You have insights into the world that I lack, and I am not foolish enough to disregard them. I regret my choice of words. Perhaps it was not their greed that claimed them, but something else—a need for something bigger than themselves maybe. I don’t know.”

“I’m sure that answer changes depending on who you ask,” Hump said.

“Indeed,” Bud said. His gaze wandered over the bodies thoughtfully. “I suppose the true shame of it is that they did not have a full understanding of the situation from the beginning. Once they knew what they were involved in, they were too deep to ever see another path.”

“That is a very good point,” Hump said. “It’s good to hear you sounding so wise! I’m impressed.”

Bud snorted. “Bound to happen occasionally. Come on, I want to see if Marcela will bless me up some water to wash my hands. The blood’s starting to dry.”

Together, they made their way through the great hall, though Hump didn’t speak further. He’d been so quick to accept the word of Samuel, the first master of his spellbook, that he hadn’t stopped to consider the problem himself. The mission left behind for him was not to overthrow the gods, but to keep safe the information contained within the book until the day came that he could give it back to the world.

That was no reason to abandon his own loyalties. What mattered were his friends and the people that had been good to him, not the ambitions of a long dead man. He would certainly consider it, but he had his own choices to make. For one thing, if warlocks were to gain access to the knowledge in his book it would cause untold terror. As nice an idea as it was to make it available to the world, there was danger to that too. Not to mention, he had no true evidence that the gods would restrict this information. They no longer hunted wizards, after all, maybe things had changed. Maybe there was room in the world for both wizards and Chosen.

Whatever the case, one thing stood out to Hump more than anything—he was far too lacking in understanding to make such decisions. He was a hedge wizard, not some lord of the people or wise sage. This was beyond him. If he were to carry on the mission of the Wandering Wizard, he needed to know the workings of people, society and the world, only then could he make an educated decision.

He needed knowledge, and three places came to mind where he could get it. Elenvine had the grandest library in the kingdom, the library in the lich’s phylactery held ancient knowledge that Walt was still translating, yet it was somewhere else Hump thought might serve better. The Order of the Three Eyes were keepers of knowledge. Wizard Aldric had offered Hump a chance to meet them—if he could be accepted into their order, he could gain access to their archives. Perhaps there, he might find the answers he needed.

It wasn’t long until they were ordered to gather before the general and assigned roles for the coming assault. The array was ready. All they needed now was his command.

“It will not be easy this time,” General Korteg said. “While this side of the rift was guarded by a relatively weak force, we may encounter the entire warlock invasion force when we cross through this rift. We must advance on the assumption that the warlocks have made whatever lies beyond this rift their stronghold.”

It made sense to Hump. The location would allow for easy movement of their forces, a way to escape the city and a place that nobody knew about. It was perfect. Hump had seen many warlock bases in Sheercliff City—he had helped to destroy many of them. But if this force possessed warlocks with strength like Anthony’s, they might have another long day ahead of them.

Hump turned to his friends. It was possible they were marching to their deaths. There was no fear on their faces as they looked back at him.

Nisha leant against him, her body vibrating with energy. Impressions surged through Hump’s mind that he managed to narrow down to: Great Hunt ahead!

She looked at him, purple eyes dancing with essence, teeth bared in an excited snarl. Hump snarled back and ran a hand down her spine. Fight well, Nishari.