Garrick stood on the platform, his presence commanding and unyielding. He was slowly shifting his gaze, absorbing every detail: scared townspeople herded to witness the morning events, nervous and haggard prisoners, the whole scene of the devastation of the settlement, with some of the houses burned down and others having their doors kicked in.

His confidence was supported not only by his own status as an Elder and now the sole possessor of power in this town but also by the presence of his private army. His cronies, rangers, and even street ruffians held the perimeter of the square and served as his bodyguards. They wouldn't allow dissent and ensure no one left before the punishment was delivered.

The usurper made an effort to look imposing. He donned his best clothes, not your average ranger's attire. In his hands, Aira noticed the same tablet gadget she had used just a few hours before. Everyone here knew the immense value of that kind of artifact. The device emitted a faint glow in the dim morning light.

As Aira was led to the platform and tied to the post, she saw the other captives standing nearby. It was hard to recognize them in their current state, beaten and with their clothes torn and covered in mud. But one of them was Jorin, the same kind elder who had done everything he could to forge a dialogue with her. So, it seemed that Garrick wasn't hurrying to return the gadget to its owner.

The other people tied near her were Jorin's and Garrick's old colleagues. Their faces were bruised and weary, but their eyes showed defiance.

After enjoying the scene of devastation for a bit longer, Garrick raised his hands, calling for silence. Murmurs in the crowd died, and all eyes turned to him. When he began to speak, his voice resonated with authority and fervor. And to sound more authoritative, he read his message from the tablet.

"People of Mountain View," he began, his tone solemn. "We stand at a crossroads. For too long, we have lived in fear. We were governed by indecision and weakness. No more. Today marks the beginning of a new era. One of order and unwavering strength."

He gestured towards Aira and the elders. "These individuals represent the old ways. They brought us nothing but chaos and vulnerability. Fraternizing with the undead, our mortal enemies, is the gravest of sins. You all know what the tradition demands of us. And the kind of behavior they demonstrated is nothing but a threat to our very existence."

Aira's heart sank as she saw people in the crowd nodding in agreement, their expressions grim and resigned. It was a reflection of an old conflict between the laws enforced by the Elders and the traditional ways of the people. Even with the most progressive leaders, change came slowly, if it came at all. Aira's eyes burned with anger and frustration as she listened to Garrick's distorted worldview. She strained against her bonds, but the ropes held fast. The crowd hung onto every Garrick's word. Their faces reflecting a mix of fear, uncertainty, and blind devotion.

Garrick continued, his voice rising with conviction. "From this day forward, we will stand united," he said. "We will not tolerate dissent or weakness. Anyone caught consorting with the enemy will face the same fate as these traitors."

He stepped closer to Aira. "This creature," he spat, "is an abomination. It pretends to be harmless, almost a friend, an ally. It promises to bring peace and cooperation with the undead. You saw it walking along the streets of our town because the Elders thought it will make you to get used to its presence. But make no mistake—it is a monster. And we will purge it from our midst."

The crowd stirred, a spark of rage and fear reflected in their eyes. Garrick was charging them with the energy of hatred. Now they were sure that the Elders were reckless and endangered their lives! Finally, they had an enemy they could punish. What was even better was that the enemy was tied securely before them.

Aira saw a few familiar faces—rangers she had come to know, town hall laborers, and street vendors. However, they either looked away or showed expressions of doubt or even hatred. In any case, expecting any of them to help her would be stupid. She caught Lila's gaze for a brief moment, a silent exchange of desperation and resolve. But when her only human friend shifted her hand to wave back, Aira shook her head to warn her not to do anything stupid.

Garrick turned his attention back to the villagers, his arms stretched out. "Let this be a warning to all. We will not allow our settlement to fall into chaos. We will remain vigilant and strong. Together, we will survive and teach the undead a lesson."

"The tradition has to be upheld!" he roared.

"Tradition!" echoed the crowd.

Garrick stepped back, signaling to his men. They moved forward, carrying torches lit with bright, crackling flames. The heat from the torches reached Aira even from this distance, and she felt a cold dread settle in her bones.

As the men approached the stakes, Garrick addressed the crowd again, holding the tablet proud for emphasis. "These elders," he declared, "have betrayed us by fraternizing with an undead. They are the enemies of the settlement. They are the enemies of the humanity and will be punished accordingly."

The Elders, Jorin among them, lifted their heads proudly, refusing to show fear. Aira admired their bravery even as fear threatened to overwhelm her. She closed her eyes, drawing on every ounce of strength she had left. This could not be the end. She refused to believe it. Somewhere within her, the spirit of the battlemage remained, waiting for the right moment to rise again. Somewhere within, there still was magic. She opened her eyes, fixing Garrick with a defiant stare. If this was her fate, she would face it with courage.

The executioners moved with grim efficiency, first starting fires at the feet of the elders. Wood, soaked with oil, ignited swiftly. It began slowly, licking their legs but inevitably raising higher and higher. The first man started moaning, not able to resist the pain. And soon, most of the Elders screamed, their cries of agony piercing the morning air. Their bodies convulsed in pain as the flames climbed higher, the acrid smell of burning flesh and smoke filling the square.

During the first moments of the horrifying scene, the crowd shied away as if shrinking. But it didn't take long before people started moving closer to the pyre, attracted to it like moths. A murmur spread over the square, execution becoming a mystical ritual.

Aira tensed, her own terror multiplied by the expectant mood of the crowd and mixed with a profound sense of helplessness. Throughout her career as an adventurer and a mage, she couldn't remember being cornered so thoroughly.

Garrick shouted over the crowd's cries: "We all know the undead have their ways of communication. Let the death of this abomination be a signal to the others! Let it share its experience with the other undead if it can. Let this be its last message, the last cry before it dies!"

The crowd cheered again, now consumed in an almost magical trance. A stray memory came to Aira of her recent encounter at the end of her dungeon run. In some bizarre way, it reminded her of that dark ritual that launched her on this odd journey.

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Fighting a wave of emotions, Aira focused on a ritual of her own. There was no other way she would distract herself from the cries of the people who, just a few days ago, tried to help her. Taking a deep breath didn't help her center herself, as her lungs momentarily were filled with burned air, only reminding her of her ordeal. So, she closed her eyes to explore her other senses. Meditation was the weirdest thing to do in the circumstance, but she didn't have any other refuge for her body and her soul.

She went through all the usual stages, finding the habitual rhythm she was so used to. And then, when she got to the last step, the world shifted around her. A powerful movement, unlike anything she had experienced before, yet similar to her old magic in some fundamental ways. It wasn't mana or any other arcane medium she'd been familiar with. But there was something out there, waiting to respond to her. Waiting for her to reach out.

Aira snapped out of the reverie when someone slapped her across her face. Garrick shouted at her, his face red and contorted: "Look around you, undead abomination! See the fear in the eyes of your collaborators! That's the fate of all of your unnatural friends! Watch while you can! Soon it will be your turn to join them!"

Contrary to Garrick's words, Jorin, despite these dire circumstances, was holding on to his composure. His eyes met Aira's with a look of unspoken defiance and sorrow. Everything he tried to build, including this new connection with the undead, was falling apart.

But even he could not withstand the searing pain for long. Soon, Jorin's screams joined the voices of the other Elders. But his suffering didn't last for long. Gradually, the screams turned into choked gasps. He and other members of the town council fell silent one by one, fainting from the unbearable pain and thick smoke.

Garrick reveled in his newly acquired absolute power. He watched Aira intently, trying to gauge how much of a connection she had with the other Elders. His eyes gleamed with perverse satisfaction when he saw Aira's horror. He attentively absorbed every emotion that crossed Aira's face: fear, anger, desperation. It was as if he needed her reactions to boost his belief in the righteousness of his cause.

"It's time to complete the purge," said Garrick. "We punished the colluding Elders, let this be a lesson to all who dare to defy our tradition. But the main source of the rot still remains. What should we do with the undead thing?"

"Burn it!" shouted somebody in the crowd. "Cut off its head!" screamed another person. "Flay it first!" said somebody else with a perverse desire.

"All of that is good," said Garrick. "I appreciate your input. But it would be only reasonable to put it on the same path as these traitors."

"Is it time to burn it?" he asked the crowd?

"Yes!" they shouted. "Burn it!"

Garrick looked at his cronies, gesturing with his hand. "Burn it!"

Several men with torches approached Aira, their faces set in grim determination. After an initial surge of fear, she sensed a spark of defiance. She would not break. She would not give Garrick the satisfaction of seeing her weak.

The fire roared to life, licking her feet. Aira gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out. And although the pain wasn't yet coming, she clearly saw the fire creeping too close to her legs not to cause any damage. Sweat broke on her forehead. She had to focus. To find a way out. And do it right now! Aira searched for any hint of the power she once wielded, the magic that had defined her very being.

It wasn't there.

Aira could feel the heat intensifying, the smoke stinging her eyes and filling her throat. She struggled against her bonds, her mind racing, searching for any possible escape. She sorted through all sorts of skills and abilities she had learned and acquired in her past life that might help before remembering that all of them depended on mana in one way or another. Her thoughts were getting increasingly scattered. Disjointed by the panic and the oppressive heat that was rising higher and higher, engulfing her whole body.

With the lust push, when it seemed all hope was lost, she felt it—a faint, almost imperceptible pulse of energy within her. It was weak, barely there, but she wasn't imagining it. Clinging to that spark, she concentrated, willing it to grow, to become something she could use. In her mind's eye, she returned to that sensation she had before she was slapped by Garrick moments ago. There was something there that could make this world's image whole for her. Something she should be able to influence and draw power from.

Aira had nothing to lose. And even as the heat from the flames intensified, she made an effort not to be distracted. She focused on that tiny pulse of energy. It grew stronger, responding to her desperation and her will to survive. Seeing that as her only hope, Aira poured all she had into the connection with that energy. Shaping and directing it.

A surge of power, a raw, untamed force, seemed to flow from deep within her. She felt the fires that burned around her in a completely new way, as manifestations of this world's energies. Exploring this new sensation further, she found that gadgets on the rangers also responded similarly. Even the humans surrounding her were full of that power.

The flames around her flickered, and then the screen of Garrick's tablet abruptly dimmed as if energy was drained from it. Aira's vision sharpened, and she could sense the fire's intensity redirected away.

All the energy that was sucked out of the flames surged towards Garrick and his cronies. The effect was instantaneous. The men fell to the ground, their bodies convulsing.

Flames around Aira faded almost completely, giving away all their power to the mage. It flowed through her body, partially recovering her wounds and filling her with unexpected force. She was filled to the brim with a strange, invigorating sensation, her old powers returning to her, making her more focused.

Barely understanding what was happening, she pulled against the ropes that bound her, the fire-weakened fibers snapping under her enhanced assault. Aira stumbled forward as the bonds fell off. Her empowered legs carried her with newfound agility. Looking around the platform, she fixed her gaze on Garrick. He was still alive. And he was recovering from the initial shock of the attack.

Aira leaped towards Garrick, covering the distance from the pyre to where the new leader of Mountain View was lying on the ground in a single jump. She landed amidst the crowd, but these people were too stunned and scared to react. The crackling energy that spread from Aura seemed to hold them in place, a tangible reminder of the strange power this undead wielded.

Seeing her approach, Garrick tried to back away, his eyes wide with fear and disbelief. "You... can't... stop... me..." he hissed, his voice trembling despite his attempt to sound commanding. "This settlement needs order. It needs—"

"—it needs a leader, not a tyrant," Aira growled, even if she knew no one would understand her. That her words would be lost on the crowd. Still, the defiance in her tone was unmistakable.

Looking again at the gadget in Garrick's hands, a realization finally came to her. It was so obvious! That spark on the day Jorin came to her. The energy she felt within the devices. The power of the flames. It all clicked in place.

She was able to connect to the System by manipulating the energy that powered some of the devices. That was her guide in regaining her magic. That's why she could read her stats from the tablet that was now in Garrick's hands. However, that didn't explain what happened with the other energies that surrounded her moments ago. What made her able to manipulate and direct them in an attack?

Promptly, she grabbed the device from Garrick's hands and checked if he had any other gadgets on him. Her guess was correct; the brute had collected more items from his fellow Elders. She took them all, not bothering to figure out their function. There would be time for that later. But as soon as she had the devices in her hands, she felt the connection with the System that wavered after her initial push, becoming stable once again.

Garrick slithered under Aira's feet, still trying to back away from her. As if that motion could have saved him from her powers. His eyes were filled with panic now. "What are you?" he demanded. And then, gathering all of his last powers, he screamed at the top of his lungs: "Everyone, attack it! Kill it!!!"

Aira reacted instinctively, following the same energy paths she had sensed moments before. She sucked the last energy from the dying flames of the pyre and directed it towards Garrick and his cronies, burning them from the inside.

The last memory she retained before passing out was the crowd dispersing with loud screams and shouts. With no one willing to help Garrick or even check if he was alive.

With that sight before her eyes, Aira dropped unconscious on top of Garrick's dead body.