This morning, Zeke woke up with a bittersweet feeling churning in his stomach. Three days had passed since his conversation with Snow, marking the promised date. Today, they would leave the treehouse and continue their journey.

On one hand, he was excited to get moving. On the other, the idea of spending the foreseeable future inside a dark, hostile jungle, constantly alert and on edge, wasn't appealing, especially after the peace he had enjoyed the past week.

Yet, all reluctance vanished from his mind when Zeke recalled one simple fact: War had broken out, and the Empire was moving.

They were already encroaching on his allies: Equinox and Invocatia, presumably making progress with every day he wasted. Was the Emperor resting? Was he taking it easy? Zeke highly doubted it. And, if he was being honest with himself, Cassius' story had affected him more than he had let on.

Zeke didn't think of himself as a prodigy, but he still took a lot of pride in his achievements. Among his generation, he had never met anyone who could match him overall. Sure, some could surpass him in certain aspects—Leo, for example, was a better fighter. However, when considering all aspects, Zeke still believed he surpassed his peers.

But what about Augustus Geistreich?

The young Emperor didn't have the privilege of attending an academy, classes, teachers, or a mentor like Maximilian. Yet, he had pioneered his school of Magic, united the Empire, and created the strongest military power on the continent.

Ever since Zeke had heard the story, a single question had plagued his mind:

Could he have done the same?

The question never failed to bring a frown to his face. The Emperor already had a thousand-year lead. If Zeke couldn’t even match the man’s starting position, what was the point in trying to catch up?

[Notice]

I have heard that comparison Is the greatest thief of joy.

At Akasha's words, Zeke couldn’t hide a smirk while slowly climbing out of bed. “Are you trying to cheer me up?”

[Answer]

Negative. I was merely pointing out the fact that the Host is the Host, and the Emperor is the Emperor. There is nothing to be gained from a battle of theoretical superiority, especially if only one side is playing.

While her words were blunt, Zeke could see the wisdom. He was just putting on his boots when a certain question popped into his mind.

“Say…” he started hesitantly, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer. Yet, now that he had thought about it, the thought refused to leave his mind. “...If you had the choice, who would you prefer as your Host between me and the Emperor?”

[Answer]

I am a being of the Mind…

Zeke's heart sank as he heard her words. Of course, she would pick the Emperor. After all, he was by far the most powerful Mind Mage on the continent, maybe in existence. Just as he was beginning to think that it had been a mistake to ask, Akasha continued.

I am a being of the Mind and, therefore, know best the shortcomings of my kind. While the Emperor might be able to give me unparalleled power, one such as him would never have trusted me the way Host trusts me. That was not a decision of the Mind, but of the heart. In that regard, the Emperor will never be Host's match.

Zeke froze, one hand already extended toward his coat. Her words had struck a chord within the very core of his being. He hurriedly blinked away the moisture in his eyes. Though the physical proof was gone, the warmth in his heart remained.

He slowly shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips. Who would have thought that the apathetic spirit would provide him with emotional support one day?

“Thanks, Akasha. That… means a lot.”

[Notice]

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

There's no need for thanks, as I was merely stating facts. Also, Host should really stop comparing himself; it’s—

“…It’s the thief of joy,” Zeke said cheekly, cutting her off. “I know, I know.”

Zeke put on his coat and strode through the door, wearing a huge smile on his face. Even though he was leaving behind the place he had called home for the past week, the moment he passed the threshold, it felt like he had gotten rid of a great burden.

***

Ash, Vulcanos, and Gravitas were already waiting. The Chimeroi were gathered outside, where Cassius was sharing some parting words with them. Curiously, there was no trace of Snow and Rhea anywhere.

As Zeke started to draw closer, he caught the final words of their conversation.

“…You can’t ever be too careful; countless people go missing every year,” Cassius said.

Ash, their scout, nodded with a grave expression on his face. “What if we still meet him?”

Zeke was surprised by Cassius’s expression as he replied. During all their time together, he had never seen the elf this serious.

"There is nothing to be done," he sighed. "If he really wants to stop you, you will not cross the Deadlands."

Even though Zeke had only heard the tail end of their conversation, he had a good idea about who they were talking about: The King of the Dead—a being that both intrigued and disturbed him.

He and Akasha had come across the name on more than one occasion while plotting their route. Even so, despite the many stories, Zeke still had no idea who or what this so-called King of the Dead actually was.

The only thing that was certain was the fact that he was a friend and teacher to all Death Mages. Most, if not all, claimed to have met him at one point, and some even claimed to have studied under him. Despite that, little was actually known about the person.

The lack of information, however, wasn’t because people were unwilling to talk about him, but rather that their accounts conflicted. Some described him as an elderly man, some as a young woman, some as a Chimeroi, and some even claimed he wasn’t a being of flesh and blood at all.

His appearance, personality, power, and other traits shifted with each tale, depending on the narrator. Despite the varied accounts, the credibility of the witnesses made an outright dismissal impossible. Remarkably, one of the most famous among them was someone Zeke knew personally: Aurelia Thorsten.

Apparently, the woman had spent years in the Deadlands before suddenly emerging as an Archmage. Many attributed her mastery over Life and Death to the King of the Dead. Overall, he remained an enigmatic figure, his influence undeniable regardless of his nature.

Yet, if asked whether Zeke wished to meet them, he would decline without hesitation. He still vividly recalled the unsettling level of fascination the Death Mage Moros had displayed toward him. Since then, Zeke had sworn to keep his distance from Death Mages whenever possible.

Despite a slight unease, Zeke wasn't overly concerned. Tens of thousands of people crossed the Deadlands each year. What were the odds that he, out of everyone, would encounter the King of the Dead?

With a shake of his head, he approached the waiting group. “Where are the others?” he inquired, partly out of curiosity and partly to shake off the sudden shiver creeping down his spine.

Cassius turned to him, a sly grin on his face. “Who are you talking about?”

Zeke rolled his eyes. “Who else? Snow and your wi—” Before he could finish the word wife, he felt the earth shake. It was a sensation he had become very familiar with. As expected, Zeke discovered a giant head towering over the trees, approaching them at a rapid pace.

Moments later, Zeke was able to make out a tiny, white-haired figure perched on the Titan’s outstretched palm.

“This is goodbye, child,” Cassius shouted over the noise of the shaking earth while pulling him into a tight hug.

Zeke frowned in confusion. What was going on, and why was Cassius in such a hurry?

His doubts were answered when Cassius quickly distanced himself from the group, only for the ground beneath his feet to be torn out and lifted into the air. Momentarily dazed, Zeke stared blankly at the rapidly shrinking figure of the elf.

Cassius remained on the lawn in front of his home, waving at him. Zeke waved back, carried in the hand of the Titan. His senses returned only when the elf vanished behind a sea of trees. Confused, he turned to the four Chimeroi, who grinned at him like the cat that got the cream.

“What's going on?" Zeke demanded to know.

“I... managed to convince Sister Rhea to accompany us for a while,” Snow said, appearing torn between pride and nervousness.

Zeke looked up at the towering face above them, then back to Snow. Her words slowly sank in, and his confusion melted into joy. Before he knew it, he was hugging her tightly. His happiness was clear, knowing that every hour with the Titan saved them from a day of grueling marching on foot.

When Zeke noticed what he was doing, he squeezed her one last time before releasing the girl, noticing her face had turned as red as a tomato.

"How far will she take us?" he asked excitedly.

Snow opened her lips, but instead of words, only a small squeak came out. She closed her mouth, then directed an urgent look at Ash. Despite shaking his head, the older Chimeroi still answered the question for her. "She will take us to the edge of the forest.”

Zeke furrowed his brows as he looked between his followers. Nobody else seemed surprised by this development. "You all knew?"

Vulcanos nodded, and Gravitas simply shrugged.

“You left me out?”

“It was meant to be a surprise,” Ash said. “Little Snow worked hard to convince that monstrous woman for you, after all…”

Zeke peeked at Snow. The girl was still red-faced but now occasionally stole glances at him, uncertain whether he would praise or scold her, yet remaining cautiously optimistic. At that sight, any remaining discontent vanished from his mind.

Who cared about being left out when this girl was acting so adorable?

Zeke cleared his throat. “Very well done, Snow. It was a great surprise!”

Snow flashed him a small yet brilliant smile. On her little face, the expression was so contagious that Zeke couldn’t help but smile back. His gaze then turned toward the horizon, where the Deadlands were. Their stay at the Treehouse had delayed them by about a week, but with the Titan’s help, they would still arrive ahead of schedule.

In all likelihood, their former guide wouldn’t even have made it back to the capital by the time they reached the border. Zeke smiled at the thought. Any pursuer would be in for a nasty surprise when they discovered his group had already left the continent.

At the thought of the capital, his mind was inadvertently drawn to the people he had left behind. What was the situation in Undercity? Were they doing fine? And most importantly...

Had David arrived already?