It was hard to deny a gift from the gods, even when it was wrapped in something distasteful, and they may not have your best intentions in mind. A ghost from my past was somewhat sobering, yet at the same time, infuriating. Misery loved company, but curses gathered without a hint of emotion.

“Angelos,” I growled, my grip tightening on the handle of the greatsword. “How do you still live?” He had not made a move to harm us - in fact, if my memory served, this skill would be keeping us safe for a short time.

He chuckled, chuffed with himself. “Resurrection. My daft god can’t get nowt done without me to wipe his arse.”

Although I didn’t put much favor in the hands of the gods, it had always bemused me how the Guardian spoke so poorly of his deity yet still maintained his given abilities and had not been smote from existence. I had first met him over a century prior, so his appearance was as confusing as it was draining to my sensibilities.

“Been brought back twice now,” he continued, “silly bugger keeps putting me at the same age though - says it’s-“

“Balanced, yes.” My right eye twitched in lieu of them both rolling at his statement. That was what his god supposedly stood for, for all the good it did them both. As my eyes idly looked at the zombies failing to claw through the grey barrier, perhaps it was going slightly better than what we had accomplished as heathens.

“Didn’t expect to find ya balls deep in undead, with two waifs on ya leash. Though, things don’t change, huh?” He smirked as he nodded to the two humans.

Like grit to my ears. “What is the purpose you seek me, Angelos?”

He shrugged, but his face became a little more serious. “Was just in your arse-end of the world on business, thought I’d check in on my least favorite pile of shit. Turns out some other cock rules your roost now.”

To say that Angelos and I had been friends once would have been a stretch. We had fought alongside each other and against each other. He was neither a proper Villain nor a Hero - apparently, his god allowed him to toe the line between. Then again, he had certainly done more harm than most, even if he had set some things right. Briefly, I almost saw the clarity there with my own path.

Although I owed him no favors nor explanation, it was almost nice to see a face that I recognized - without wanting to immediately cleave it off. “So, now that you’ve found me: I willingly gave up my power to see death or redemption in regrowing into a Hero - Woodsworth betrayed me and has stolen what power remained at the estate.”

“Ah.” Angelos rubbed his slim beard, pulling at the point on his chin. “I had expected you to say it was a long story. Woodsworth? The butler? You must be going soft, Victor.” He shook his head with a smile.

More the fool me for not seeing the inevitable cliche.

“There is a longer tale to tell, should you wish to hear it. I owe you that much for saving us.”

The Guardian exhaled through his nose and nodded. “A good ear is few and far between in these parts. Figured you might want to cut up those monk fucks too?”

I turned to look at the two humans, who seemed pensive and somewhat unsure of the situation. “We thought there was something going on with them. Something isn’t right.”

“Yeah, no shit. So, who are these two younglings? Thought you’d grown out of-“

“Angelos, please.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “This is Florence and Jakob - we are a Party doing Ranking Quests together.”

The man paused and gave a brief whistle before bowing towards them. “My apologies, Miss and Master. The years have made my tongue looser than a…” he stood back up to catch my glare. “I’m a bit of a shit-talker; I hope I don’t offend.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Florence shrugged. “I’ve heard worse.” Jakob just grimaced with a brief nod.

“Excellent,” Angelos winked at the pair. “Seems like the both of ya are continuing the trend of making shit decisions.” He gestured between the zombies and me as if his point wasn’t clear enough.

“It’s getting stuffy in your playhouse,” I interjected as I saw Florence open her mouth. Her gloved hand hung stiff by her side as if frozen, and we needed healing. “Care to continue the foul language out in the open?” Getting out of here was currently more important than learning some new curses.

“Be my guest,” he stepped away from where the first tunnel lay. “I’ll cover our backs and stop the naughty undead from tickling yer arse.”

With a sigh, I gestured for the other two to follow me. There was still a low chance that he would attack us - but I didn’t get that feeling from him. He wasn’t much of a fighter, even back in the old days, and while he liked to labor his sentences with a lot of colorful expletives, he generally had a reasonable take on things.

I slipped through the grey of the dome, a slight tingling flooding through my body as it made contact - then the cold air of the other side. He had destroyed the undead through this passageway, and their spent corpses lay inert against the rough walls.

Florence and Jakob followed suit, not looking too confident with either our visitor or his odd skills. Barriers were useful if you weren’t a fan of broken noses. I knew Angelos was one of those people from prior experience. A wry grin peaked at the corner of my mouth.

As we traveled down the path, we heard the chanting ringing out again before a pause and wave of energy passed through us. Florence shivered.

“You can sense it too?” I raised an eyebrow, unsure of whether she was coincidentally cold or could feel the divine energies used in the Guardian’s spell.

“I can. It doesn’t feel like… normal magic?” She screwed her face up as she glanced between me and the dark before us.

All I could do was grunt in response. As much as there were now several other new things to discuss - all I could think about was the monastery and what really lay within. Or whom.

Footsteps came up from behind us, quickening in pace to catch up as we reached the hole in the wall to the tomb. We clambered through and waited for the Guardian. Each of us pensive and tired. Eager for the light of day and a reprieve from the haunting stares of the undead.

Angelos came into view from the dim light as he neared our position. “Lotta fuckin’ zombies. This place is fucked.”

“Agreed. This was not normal.”

He entered into the chamber with us and limbered up his muscles. “Here, you forgot this, you overgrown bat.”

I held out my hand, and he dropped a pendant into my palm. A large green gem, shattered, sat in a hand made of ornately detailed silver. The chain was a dirtied bronze in comparison.

“I broke it,” he shrugged. “Looks like the bugger you fried the head off wanted his zombies to come to his dead body once he fell. Odd enchantment.”

Jakob worked his jaw. “For defense? Or maybe they could gain something by eating his corpse?”

Angelos shrugged again. “Beats me; spellcasters are a weird bunch - no offense, Miss.” He gave a reverent nod to the Mage.

“None taken. It would be nice to know how he managed to control so many.” Florence looked tired, and her arm still hung stiffly by her side.

The Guardian opened his mouth as if ready to say something trite but stopped and grimaced towards me. I nodded. Things to discuss once the sun was our friend once more.

We ascended the brief staircase, avoiding the piles of dead and slick rotten flesh now coating the pathway - and then we were outside. The gloom and fog still hung over the area oppressively, but the number of undead had thinned considerably.

“Whatever dregs still standing will be stuck up each other’s arses trying to get out the tunnels,” Angelos rubbed his chin. “Without the sparkly git, it’ll be a week before they succumb to unraveling.”

Necromantic magic was required to keep a base undead going. With no source of power, they’d eventually be too rotten and desiccated to function - returning to their natural place atop the dirt. In time the clouds should also filter away, and any trace of evil Villainy discarded to the wind.

“What Rank do you think he was?” Jakob said as he narrowed his eyes out to the distant figures amongst the fog.

“Doesn’t matter now,” I shook my head and turned to head back to the wagon. “If it wasn’t an official Quest, then we won’t get any credit anyway.” I stopped to give them a grin. “We just did a good act for no reason.”

“Seems like bullshit,” Florence murmured, pushing past, eager to get to the sunlight.

“Eh.” Angelos looked up to the darkened sky and closed his eyes. “In this life, you’re either riding the bull, or you’re stuck in the shit. Gotta do a lot of wading to climb up, huh, Victor?”

I exhaled and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s go pay a visit to those monks and see how balanced they are.”

With a snort, he turned his head back to me. “My stomach’s aflutter already,” he grinned, and his grey eyes twinkled with malicious intent.