The group arrived in the city. At first, they did not saw anything out of the ordinary. The town's walls were high and built strong, ensuring its citizens safety for a long time now, no doubt. However, they were in good condition, meaning they did not see any fighting for a while now. Not surprising, given that Paxfort was far away from the borders. Before any enemy army would reach it, they have to go through at least a dozen more fortifications. They passed the open gates, the first odd thing they noticed was that there were no guards.

'Tch. They probably slacking off somewhere. Getting drunk. Not a bad plan for us either,' said Wolf.

The man did not answer. Originally, he only wanted to refill the supplies they used up in the forest. Maybe spend a quiet night there in real beds. But something was of. The air felt different. It felt... heavy. Full of despair. It reminded him to... 'No,' he thought. 'You're just imagining things.'

But as they went further, things got all the more out of the ordinary. There was no one in the streets. No child's playing. No shops open. Not even the usual "who are these people?" looks from the windows, which the company got used to. Also, it was quiet. Earfully quiet. No news being told by messengers. No house debates about someone not taking out the trash. No music from the taverns. As if the whole city became a ghost town.

'What is going on here?' Scythian asked. 'Where are the people? Even at this time ű, there should be life in this place!'

'Oh, they are here alright,' the veteran replied. 'Look.'

'Peeping into other people's house? What are you, a common thief?' asked the old spearman.

'Just look, you bonebag.'

After a little hesitation, the old squire complied and looked into the window. The wanderer followed suit.

Inside there was a dining room. With a table in the middle, around it were four chairs. They had a fireplace in the left corner, with all kinds of kitchen equipment hanging from the walls. There were stairs leading upwards, and at the base of the stairs, there was a woman in a blue dress with light brown hair. Judging from what she was wearing, she must have gotten ready to go to the local market.

But all she was doing was sitting. With tears in her eyes. Her eyes, which reflected only emptiness. On her face, despair and hopelessness. Without any effort to change anything.

The traveler backed up from the window, shocked at what he saw.

'No...' he said. He could not believe it. It could not be him.

'Whats wrong, lad?' asked his old mentor.

But he did not answer. He just ran in the direction of the town square. For he saw the silhouette of a man there. His guides followed; they did not understand what was happening. Suddenly the man stopped, as he was frozen where he stood.

When the others caught up to him, they started to realize whats happening.

In the square, there were most of the people of the city. All of them stood still. All of them were lost in thought. All of them in despair. It was like some twisted art exhibition, where the only emotion was sadness and hopelessness. At the far end of it, there was a robbed man on a stage chanting while holding a glowing amulet.

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'That fiend!' said Scythian in anger. 'It's a mages ritual! He's syphoning the negative energy from these people! While inducing bad thoughts in them! The reason why we are not affected is that he's concentrating too hard on the ritual, thus he could not notice us arrive!'

'Bastard!' agreed Wolf. 'But that's his mistake. Here's the plan: we go around, sneak from behind, break his concentration, and then, while he's surprised, we finish him. Then we collect the reward and the fame. What do you say, boy?'

The man did not answer. All he could see was him. Him who claimed everything from these people just as he did back then. Him who destroyed everything he once held dear. Him who is the reason for his nightmares.

Suddenly he drew out his sword. And let out a scream. A scream so outwordly that it was almost earshattering. A name, which he remembered and the one he sought to destroy.

'NAAAAZREEEEM!'

The black vines appeared once more. Except this time they not simply crawled upon the man's arm but erupted from the blade, stretching to every direction possible, before turning back and engulfing him, sourrounding him like armor.

Scythian and Wolf had no time to say a single thing. They could simply watch the transformation happen.

Then suddenly, with a speed that would put the old squire to shame, he jolted out towards his target. Striking with his blade.

Nazrem had but mere seconds to react. He raised his hands up, creating a protective shield between him and his assailant.

'Wha-' he could not even finish the question as the strike colided with the shield. The impact sent both of them flying back, with the mage colliding with a wall of a nearby building.

The people on the square suddenly got back to reality. With the spell broken, they started running in fear, trying to get away from the square, which has been turned into a battlefield. The furious warrior landed on his feet, and after a momentary dizziness, he got up. He knew that the mage lived. Yet. Nazrem got to his feet as well. His robbes have been changed, however. He now had light battle armor with dark pauldrons and a red cape. His helmetless head stood out. He had a few strains of red hair on the side of his head, but the top was bald. He looked at the enraged travelers.

'So, it was you who I felt a few days ago. Impressive display. Tell me, who are you?'

The man simply readied his blade for another strike. He let out a chuckle.

'I will tell you. After you lie dying at my feet!'

With that, he charged again.

The mentors stood by the sidelines, trying to work out from a safe place behind a wall where their pupil was in the fleeing crowd.

'Dammit, I can't see him anywhere,' said Wolf.

'Come on, we have to find him.'

Scythian put a hand on the veteran's shoulder.

'No, we don't. We have to help these people to safety.'

The warmaster shrugged of the spearman's hand.

'Are you insane?! He completely lost himself in there, fighting a mage alone! I don't know anything about magic, but even I can comprehend that with his limited abilities, he stands no chance against a foe like this!'

'I don't think that he's as lost in his rage as you think. Look at the crowd. They are only fleeing in one direction. Towards us.'

The master of battle stopped for a moment and took a deeper look. What the old fighter said was true. The crowd only fled in this direction; the dust from the first impact was way behind the end of the flood of the people.

'He put distance between himself and the innocent,' said Wolf grudgingly. 'Clever. Still, he needs our help.'

'And we will help,' aggreed Scythian. 'But he clearly wants these people safe. For now, this is his fight.'

Wolf thought for a moment. He did not like the idea to leave the man behind. But he must respect his wish to fight alone. He nodded to the old squire. With one last look back, they started to help the remaining guard evacuate the people of Paxfort.