I stood there, an embodiment of experience and authority, as Lurantis presented her case. Her plea resonated in the chamber.

  "Archmagus, the prowess of the Janissaries could indeed be a formidable asset for the mission," Lurantis implored, her gaze fixed on me with determination.

  I replied with a subtle yet confident smile, "Your reputation precedes you. After all, who found and provided the funds required to fit the Janissaries? Was it not I who crafted the first of your order, enchanted your weapons, and fortified your armor? All of this was to maintain equilibrium in Sardoniel. My love for our homeland runs deep, and I acknowledge the potential perils magi might unleash. There must exist a force capable of upholding the law upon them. However, this task is mine to bear. Consider yourself honored that I choose not to involve you; it reflects my regard for your well-being."

  Tavien, curious, interjected, "Why confront this challenge alone when companions could bolster your efforts?"

  Maintaining my calm demeanor, I explained, "Why risk the lives of friends when the odds of success are already in my favor? Moreover, I am not truly alone. Thorani accompanies me."

  "And who is Thorani? And where is she?" Ousmane inquired.

  Nazir clarified, "She is the Deva who empowers him, bound with him in spirit."

  "Indeed, a formidable ally, of which I can not dare ask for a better one," I affirmed.

  Sultan Jahan, unwavering in his faith, defended, "Allah is the most powerful ally."

  Acknowledging Jahan's belief without dismissing it, I added, "I intend no disrespect. Your God operates on a different scale. Thorani is by my side, giving me undivided attention, as I do for her. She's my ally, my friend, my wife, and we stand ready to sacrifice for each other. I shall depart now, and may Allah safeguard you from any malevolent entities that may elude my watch."

  In the dimly lit expanse, shadows danced upon the cavern walls, setting the stage for a confrontation with a pack of infernal canines. Their hulking forms emerged from the obscurity, a quartet of seemingly menacing figures, their eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. Their threat appeared meager, so I sought to make quick work of them. A snap of my fingers unleashed a manifestation of my arcane might — a dozen ice spikes for each demonic hound.

  The spikes found their mark with precision, puncturing demonic flesh before erupting into a cascade of smaller shards reminiscent of shrapnel meticulously forged by the hands of skilled craftsmen. The result was an obliteration of their insides; their Demonic Essence siphoned into my gems for future use.

  Beyond these initial adversaries, minor threats in the form of Oni and Banshees dared to obstruct my path. Yet, their attempts proved feeble, my sword remaining sheathed, my mastery over dark arts not needed. Thorani's powers resonated, a formidable force more than capable of annihilating the Dread Necromancer lurking in this unholy nest.

  Having dispensed with these minor inconveniences within a mere thirty seconds, I entered a cavernous room. The dimensions of the chamber stretched a hundred meters in both length and width, an imposing space adorned with a long blue carpet that guided my way. At its heart lay a macabre spectacle — a heap of bones, the remnants of a once formidable mature dragon. Stone pillars, thick and sturdy, stood sentinel every ten meters, supporting the cavernous ceiling.

  It struck me as an oversight on their part, for I could effortlessly bring this entire subterranean edifice crashing down, erasing all opposition in mere moments. The legion of skeleton warriors and shambling corpses that filled the room became inconsequential; the task at hand seemed easier than I had initially conceived.

  Confident strides carried me into the vast chamber, an unwavering fortress unto myself. I wore armor that mocked the very notion of threat, a formidable bulwark against all adversaries except, perhaps, the dragon itself. Even the mighty cadaverous dragon would find breaching my defenses a formidable challenge, given my knack for conjuring magic barriers in the blink of an eye.

  The onslaught of axes and maces amounted to little more than futile gestures, their impact barely registering against my impervious armor. I, in turn, met their feeble attempts with crushing blows from my mace, an effortless dance of destruction that betrayed no hint of fatigue. My human guise belied my true nature — technically deceased, much like the adversaries I faced.

  Within this deadly ballet, the undead dragon stirred. A colossal skeletal form, its bones rattling as they shifted in response. The remnants of sinew clung sporadically, like tattered remnants of the once-living. The creature, no longer adorned with scales, emanated an eerie, spectral glow as the residue of its former essence clung to its skeletal frame. Atop the undead dragon, a figure draped in pompous blue silk robes held court, an air of arrogance radiating from their every gesture.

  Viknesh's voice reverberated through the cavernous expanse, carrying with it the weight of ancient grievances and a challenge to my convictions.

  "Z'albor, you've been bestowed with the gift of eternal life and power beyond mortal means. Why persist in protecting the plague that is mankind?" he taunted.

  "You recognize me? Good, that makes negotiations easier. Surrender now, and I assure you a fair trial. If the verdict is death, I can ensure it will be swift and painless. I just need you to come willingly," I replied, my tone laced with calm determination amid the spectral echoes of the chamber.

  "You are an insult to corpselords everywhere. Unfit for the title, ignorant of the honor and power it carries. You possess what every necromancer dreams of, yet you take it for granted," Viknesh spat with a venomous edge.

  "I would never wish this curse upon anyone!" I retorted.

  "Yet you sought it. Sacrificed much for it. We all know the story—how you gave all of Hamza's blood to complete the ritual. Your friend, your cousin, a father and a leader. How dare you act morally superior when you've done worse?" Viknesh's accusations cut through the air.

  "I did what I had to for the good of Sardoniel!" I shot back.

  "You can keep telling yourself that, but we are the same," Viknesh asserted.

  "The Carrion Empress was too powerful! Even with Thorani, I couldn't defeat her. It was Hamza's idea, precisely because of his family. He couldn't bear the thought of losing them due to our failure," I explained.

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  "So you admit it was a gift? The power to protect the ones you love. How could you look at this any other way?" Viknesh challenged.

  "Power can be a burden, and this power came not without sacrifice. I am the last of my family, unable to produce an heir. I've lived through several lifetimes of my cousins, experiencing the pain of burying them. I've watched the world suffer and seen heroes rise to keep it from falling apart. There must be balance in everything, and that's why I'm here. I will remain until no longer needed, but no one else needs what I have. The world, dark as it may be, is better now than it would be if everyone bore this undead curse. Your cult is selfish, stripping people of choice. You can receive what you wish in the shadowlands. You just want to be the ones in power, and your pride will be your downfall," I countered, my words resonating through the skeletal remnants of the Dread Necromancer's lair.

  "Z'albor, you could be a formidable ally. I ask you to surrender one last time. We will win, even if you kill me in this battle. Death comes to us all, and it would be better for you to join our movement than suffer with the rest," Viknesh implored, the echoes of his words lingering in the shadows of the cavernous domain.

  I summoned a ray of Negative Essence, intending to drain all his thermal energy and freeze him in place, but the dragon intercepted the attack.

  "So be it. I won't allow you to kill me so easily, Archlich," he declared, and an army of undead surrounding me began to march in unison. Unfazed, I manipulated the essence in the air, ripping away the heat from everything in the room, including the bones of the undead.

  "You won't have a choice," I stated resolutely, absorbing every ounce of warmth from the surroundings. The pillars began to freeze, and the Skeletons, Zombies, and Wights collapsed, shattering or turning into icy statues. Viknesh had Vampire thralls, somewhat resistant to the cold, but they posed no real threat. The icy ground robbed them of their footing as they charged, and with Essence-infused strikes, I exploded each of their heads with a single, precise blow.

  "You can't win, Z'albor. You're ignorant of the scourge that will arise even if you kill me." The dragon lunged, playing right into my plan. I teleported to the far entrance, away from the imminent danger, and sent my Essence through the weakened pillars. The room crumbled, tons of stone cascading down. As quickly as it had begun, it came to a thunderous end.

  "Trivial," I mumbled, drawing the Dark Essence from beneath the rubble to regenerate my own. The act was forbidden, a hypocritical law I had created, but rules seldom applied to the dead. Dark Essence could warp the minds and bodies of the living, yet it had no such effect on the undead. Thorani, though she used to disapprove, had learned to keep her silence during my rituals. She even converted the stored Dark Essence into Negative Essence, fueling my ice powers rather than my necromancy. When I turned around to return to the others, they were already sprinting toward me to investigate the commotion.

  "What was that?" Tavien inquired.

  "It was the handiwork of the most potent magus in the world," Nazir explained.

  "We need to check on the others. Will you come, or should I bring you back to the palace?" I asked.

  "Let's do the work of Allah," Jahan declared.

  I teleported us back to the monument in the first nest to examine the links I had established with the remaining Dread Necromancers. However, something felt amiss. There were only two links left, and Viknesh's link persisted. A human couldn't have survived the destruction, and artifacts wouldn't have saved him, thanks to Nazir's antimagic field. Could it be... no.

  "Change of plans," I declared. "I'm sending you to aid Master Hong. I need to go back and check on Viknesh. He's not dead. I can still see his essence here somehow."

  "No man could have survived that," Jahan remarked.

  "That's exactly why I'm worried, and he shouldn't have been strong enough to cast spells there. Something is going on, something I missed. We must not linger." I opened a portal to Master Hong's destination, then teleported back to the rubble where Viknesh lay, or at least where he should have been. I lifted all the rubble with my essence and flung them far away. As expected, several crushed bodies of demons, undead, and even the dragon were crushed. I searched for a while near the dragon's carcass to see if I could find the Dread Necromancer.

  "Looking for someone?"

  I turned around slowly and immediately realized how Viknesh survived. I saw flesh hanging from his once handsome face, with cuts so deep most of his skull had been exposed. His robes were tattered and soaked in his crimson fluid of life, though it was not as if he needed any of it anymore. He was a Corpselord.

  "Viknesh, what have you done? You've become an abomination!"

  "Enough with your hypocrisy, Archlich! You act all high and mighty when you, in fact, sold your soul to the devil for the powers you possess! You're one of the most renowned Corpselords in existence, on the same level as both Necros himself and Er'yeill the Carrion Empress. The three greatest Corpselords in the history of Kal'emsha, nicknamed the Dreadlich, Lichqueen, and the Archlich. I may be powerful, but in the grand scope of things, I am nothing. Our organization is much more than just the men we used to build that monument, as I'm sure you already figured out. I am but a puppet, a small fish in a huge pond, but you too are doing the will of our movement."

  I pulled him closer with my essence and slammed him to the ground, placing my foot on his head while dropping holy water on his face from a small vial I pulled from a pouch. The cavern echoed with the sizzle of the holy water reacting to the essence that clung to Viknesh's corrupted form.

  "Enough with your riddles, fool. How can I be doing the will of your movement when I am killing the heads of the previous magic monument? It sounds like an attempt to beg for your pitiful life."

  "Take it as you will," he spoke, though his tone was distorted from my metal boot on his face. "Know that it is too late. Every time you strike one of us, we will become stronger, and you cannot stop what is to come." I poured the entire vial on his face, the liquid burning with divine energy, and opened another as he screeched in agonizing pain.

  "You waste precious time, Z'albor. At this very moment, we are becoming stronger."

  "Enough!" I shouted as I emptied the vial on his face once more. I began to chant and create a blue aura, the essence of magic swirling around us, as I dropped a pinch of sand on his face. "Tell me what I need to know, and I'll kill you quickly. Don't, and your soul will be mine forever. You do not fear death, but I know you fear eternal imprisonment."

  Viknesh let out a soft chuckle. "And what's stopping me from lying to you?"

  "Try me, fool, and you'll regret it for eternity."

  "We have a trap laid out for the Sultan, and…" The blue aura began to glow red.

  "You lie," I said calmly, and I began to rip his soul from his putrid body.

  "Wait! Please just kill me!" He pleaded. "We are attacking villages around Kal'emsha. Our operation is not only found in Sardonia but also in Chawan, Broeri, and Asorewin. We initiated an organized attack to come out of hiding when we realized the Sardonia nest had been caught. At this moment, thousands of helpless farmers and woodsmen, women and children are being torn apart, limb by limb." He held a diabolical grin, and the red light shifted to blue. I infused Essence into my boot and crushed his head, fuming with anger.

  "Argh! Blast it all!" I bellowed, the resonance of my voice reverberating through the cavern, a symphony of frustration. Just as the echoes began to fade, a loathsome slug-like demon leaped at me, further stoking the fires of my fury. With a snap of my fingers, I summoned a torrent of lightning hotter than the surface of a star, instantly incinerating the wretched creature. Its demise left behind nothing but smoky remnants, and I, seizing the opportunity, converted its Essence into an energy orb.

  Turning back to Viknesh, my eyes widened, and I discovered his Essence had vanished like a wisp in the wind. "Damn it all," I muttered, a curse escaping my lips as the reality sank in. He hadn't merely spoken in riddles; there was a tangible link between the remaining Dread Necromancers, a sinister connection that gained strength from each fallen member. It wasn't a game but a perilous web of darkness.

  A sense of urgency gripped me. I needed to hurry and aid Nazir in case their ominous connection posed a threat beyond my current understanding.