I finally use the gap it presents, and thrust my sabre into the chest. It squirms, trying to escape, but I shall not let it. It kicks at my legs, clanging off my chainmail, but I grasp my blades hilt in both hands, and apply all of my strength.

It slams into the ground, and for just a moment, the jaw clatters open, pleading, before I crush it under my plated boot.

Pleading? Yes... it's funny. But even skeletons plead before they die. When you kill enough, you grow to recognise the signs.

I'm not sure if the others realise, but I'm not in a rush to disturb the young ones with pointless observations like this.

The blue crystal explodes, finally.

I look up to monitor the lich lord. It is thrashing now, riddled with Darion's best arrows hanging from its tattered robe and disabling its book of wind magic, and caught in a hardening grasp of boiling liquid metal. Esraye, of course, who is currently like a female metal golem.

It's a good job we left Jeanette behind. A wind caster lich would have made her angry.

There is certainly something very suspicious happening here. A whole horde of undead, with two liches here. Teleporting Dustils. Velopers. Almost full to bursting with all kinds of Void creature.

And I believe this monument that has appeared has something to do with it. It was a very tough fight here, almost as though we were having to assault a fortress by ourselves. The skeleton archers used the high ground to their advantage, and the lord used a raised platform to bombard us with Wind. Dangerous, even to me. It has sheared part of my shield clean off, and my left leg is bleeding, I'm fairly sure.

Yes... the void is actively resisting.

I have no real sense for magic like my beloved, but there us surely an ominous sense of wrongness to this place that gives me the shivers.

Still, we managed.

It was a lightning fast raid, as always. Breaking out of ambushes like this is our specialty. But we're feeling serious fatigue from this one. We will likely have to retreat shortly. I hope we can.

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Esraye clanks over to Darion and becomes flesh again. They are momentarily affectionate, which is unusual, and symptomatic of how difficult a fight this was.

I give them a moment, dislodging my sword from the ribcage, and flicking off the blue voidplasm as best I can.

"We are done, Ser." Esraye comes up to me.

She is supporting Darion, who I only now notice has a bleeding forehead and flank.

Esraye herself is hobbling slightly, and one of her fingers is crooked at a strange angle.

None of us got out of this one unscathed, it seems.

"Good job." I say, nodding.

They exhale in relief.

"Uncle, why were they fighting with such fury?"

I get an eye twitch at hearing 'uncle' from him again. Darion sounds scared and has regressed a bit to his older child-like self, it seems.

Though I guess he's my brother-in-law these days. And he is my son. I consider him that, for sure, despite everything. Ferlin would still be proud to see his boy become so strong. Even the grating personality is the same.

I supress a chuckle.

"I honestly don't know, Darion. I expect, though... it is this thing?" I look at the strange monument.

This whole ruin somehow recalls its heritage, built by the Syjillian empire after a great battle, where the empire's soldiers were massacred by rebels. Even as it changes itself, it never forgets key elements of its original architectural style, even though the Empire is long gone.

Understandably, this monument recalls a centrepoint, something often built in the market or royal squares in most Syjillan cities and towns. Said to be guidance, a waypoint, for the emperor. There is still one in Jeraldine's capital, black stone that is nearly impossible to destroy. Enshrining an earth and metal spirit tends to do that.

"I don't get it. But this gives me the creeps, uncle." Darion shivers.

Esraye hugs him, and glares at the stone. She rubs her head as her eyes glow slightly.

"It is certainly pooling a strange energy, Ser. It is practically bleeding power. But there is no spirit there. It is bizarre. And the flowers around the base are quite peculiar."

Hmm... so it is mysterious for sure, then. We will need to bring some scholar mages back here to observe it, no doubt.

There is an echoing clatter of several feet from one of the side corridors. Certainly, human feet. The others, it seems have also managed to come this way.

Well, it is not surprising. Everything always loops up in the end with this place. I hope they did well also.

Suddenly, the entire hall rumbles.

A quake?

Darion and Esraye leap back into stances. I have trained them well. I drop my now rather useless shield and take my blade up with both gauntlets, ignoring the pain from my arms with a grunt.

The centrepoint starts to grow further, ripping from the ground, as the Syjillian text on the stone glows an eerie dark blue.

Even I realise it is about to do something, and that whatever it is… it not likely to be to our benefit.

What is it doing? What will come now?