Organizing a meeting takes time, and through mana-radio, Arch Priest of the Sun, Duncan, and Grand Merchant Venancijs joined in.

  “Naomi! You are alright! We were so worried.” Chino shouted.

  “Yes, I feel much better.” She smiled. “Thank you for worrying about me.”

  “That was a given, Dungeon Mistress.” Arch Priest answered. “We saw golden aurora. I presume you were chosen?”

  “Regretably, yes.” Naomi sighted and opened her path.

  “It’s the same as Lord Bernull's path.” Chino gasped.

  “Indeed.” Arch priest agreed. “But her title is about compassion, not about her victory over the grand lich.”

  “Because it was an accident.” Naomi protested. “I didn’t intend to kill her. I planned to break the spell and, after that, force her to surrender. At least, it was what I hoped for, because most likely she would be shot the next moment if someone got a clear line of fire.”

  “That explains a lot.” Old elf smiled at her.

  “Let me guess. The stronger I try to deny having a right to have that title, the stronger it proves it?” Naomi asked.

  “It’s more about proving the integrity of your character than just denying,” Pinera explained.

  “I really hope that no one gets the idea that I’m the one who should lead the armies against the arch lich,” Naomi said.

  “There would be those sorts of people, but no one will treat them seriously.” General Serator answered.

  “And, about traveling. I have a question, Dungeon Mistress.” Venancijs asced.

  “Yes?”

  “Your permission to exit the dungeon was a one-time permission, or you were granted that privilege permanently?”

  That question intrigued all gathered.

  “Oh, that. Yes, I’m allowed to exit the dungeon. Well, technically speaking, it will be just my golem who will leave it, not me, but yes. I need to build it properly this time. My patron gods will test it before they allow me to use it, and they gave me a long list of problems I need to solve. It will take me at least a year before I have most of them resolved, if not more. Oh, and I’m allowed to build them for other dungeon cores, too, if they wish.”

  Chino's eyes went wide when she heard the last sentence. She long ago stopped thinking of leaving her dungeon. Observing the town from her tower was enough for her. And now she was told she could go on a walk there. Duncan just shook his head while smiling. Others just looked at her with admiration and reverence.

  “Why did you all look like that at me?” Naomi asked. “I never intended to keep them for myself.”

  “And that is why you were chosen as a champion. You, Dungeon Mistress, are always thinking about others.” Minotaur grand priest smiled at her.

  “Why did you ask that?” Naomi turns to Venancijs to change the topic before she dies from embarrassment.

  “I wanted to know if I need to start preparation for your journey, Dungeon Mistress. Preparing a proper royal escort is a lot of work, and I never did anything like that. Thankfully, I can ask the king’s advisor about it.”

  “Please tell me you are joking. I don’t need all of that. Just a team or two of adventurers should be enough.” Naomi protested.

  “Grand Merchant is right, Dungeon Mistress. You are royal, envoy of the gods, and now also their champion. Anything less than a full royal procession is out of question.” Arch Priest spoke.

  “Great.” Naomi again slumped on her chair. “Grand Merchant, please learn everything about the royal procession, but don’t prepare anything. Maybe a few small things like banners, or samples of clothes for guards and servants, but not a full set. And don’t hire anyone. I need to find a way around that. I don’t want to drag with me a few dozen people because I’m curious what is over the horizon.”

  “Understood.”

  “Before we start talking about what I learn recently, I need to ask all of you if there is no one near you who could overhear us. It’s mostly a question for Grand Merchant Venancijs. The rest of us are inside the dungeons.”

  “It’s a valid concern, Dungeon Mistress. Even though my place is safe and well guarded, it's hard to tell if someone is trying to spy on us. And I think there was some commotion downstairs. Most likely, the king's messenger brought a letter of summons.”

  “I’m sorry. I trust you, I swear. But the news I have is disturbing, and priests would need to decide if and how people will learn about them.”

  “Then it’s even more important that I leave this meeting. Festivnes are waiting for me, and with a sour mood I wouldn't be able represent you, Dungeon Mistress, properly.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Thank you. And one thing before you leave. Please raise a toast to the defenders of On Taram, both living and fallen. Or ask the grand priest for a prayer for the souls of people who die in that destroyed town.”

  “I will do both, Dungeon Mistress. Goodbye, my lady.”

  “See you soon, my friend,” Naomi answered, and the Grand Merchant ended the connection.

  “I’m guessing that your news has something to do with all those chests.” Grand Forge Master asked.

  “We can start from them. Inside are letters with last words from the people who were killed in the massacre and from warriors who died during the siege. I wanted to ask you, Grand Priest Jathur, to help me send them out. I will pay all costs for that.”

  “There wouldn't be any costs involved, Dungeon Mistress. Delivering last words from the dying is one of the priest's duties.”

  “Understood. But if some unforeseen expenses appear, please do not hesitate.”

  “I will remember your, Dungeon Mistress, offer of help,” Jathur answered.

  “Let me guess. You, Dungeon Mistress, not only talked with the common folks, but also with cultists, and even a grand lich.” Eriser was joking, but it was most likely true.

  “Yeah, I talked with cultists.” Naomi sighted. “Seeing all those kids, newberns even, was hard. I almost stopped feeling guilty for killing that lich. But then I saw cultists, ar to be precise, their souls. Half of them barely had the strength to exist. Twisted gods seeped away all their strength. I couldn’t talk much with them. I really hope that they end in some peaceful place and manage to regain their strength before they face their punishment.”

  “And the other half.” Pale Pinera whispered. Learning that the twisted gods slowly consumed the souls of cultists was horrifying. No wonder they slowly descend into madness.

  “They were much less affected, so I managed to talk a little with them. I think they feel guilty or understand what they did. A few even expressed their remorse.” Naomi stands to bring a small chest to the table. When she opened it, there were three scrolls. “There were three of them who still had families somewhere out there. I convince them to send their apologies. I hope it would be possible to deliver those three letters too, despite who the sender was?”

  All gathered stared at the three letters in disbelief. It was like a small miracle. Necromancers, mostly because of the influence of twisted gods, don’t apologize, don't feel guilt.

  “There would be sent immediately and with utmost care,” Jathur whispered.

  “I will send the messages to the commanders of paladins along the route. They would provide any necessary help.” Arch Priest added.

  “What about grand lich?” General Serator asked.

  “Right, time for the bad news.” Naomi shivered.

  “Dungeon Mistress, please tell us she is dead, and not resurrected in the citadel of the undead.” Arch Priest asked.

  “She isn’t resurrected.” Naomi shakes her head. “All that story about the liches is another lie.”

  “Then that is good news.” Grand Forge Master commented.

  “It’s not,” Naomi answered. “You see, this lie is not for us but for necromancers.” Naomi takes a deep breath. “During ritual or whatever they are doing to themselves to become a lich, a soul of a necromancer is torn apart and consumed by the twisted gods.”

  Everyone turned pale when they heard these words. General Serator, or Grand Inquisitor, clenched their fists in cold fury.

  “I think I’m sick. I need some fresh air.” Pinera said, but her legs gave out, and she couldn't get up. Instead, the general opened the tent door wide to let in fresh air.

  “Naomi, please tell me that is not true,” Chino whispered weakly, when all of them regained some of their composure.

  “Regretfully, no. All gods checked an ocean of souls and its shores, but they didn’t find anything. They also checked that for other liches. Results were always the same.”

  “So, that means we need to hunt every lich with extreme prejudice. They are spawns of twisted gods, not just half-mad cultists, who don’t know what they are doing.” Grand Inquisitor concluded, and everyone agreed.

  “Naomi, if I see correctly, there is one more chest there,” Duncan asked.

  “Yes.” Naomi took from it a very thick scroll. “This is a list of names of all people who were killed by necromancers. Except two.”

  “Traitors.” Eriser spat.

  “Can you tell us who they were?” Arch Priest asked.

  “Lord and Lady of the town,” Naomi answered. “But they weren’t traitors. They were just overconfident fools, deceived by the grand lich. Cultists have spent the last twenty years doing that. And that is true bad news.”

  “Because if they did that in one place, there is no way to tell if they did that in another.” Grand Inquisitor finished.

  “Not if, but in how many.” Naomi corrected. “Lord and Lady told me that there are a lot of people like them. Helped and backed by some mysterious persona. Both of them checked every time, every piece of advice they got, and still got fooled. Only a handful of people are true traitors.”

  “Then we have a serious problem. I can conduct an extensive investigation, and even nobles wouldn’t be able to hide behind their ranks, but I can prosecute only true traitors. It’s not a crime to be foolish to listen to advice from unknown and untested sources.”

  “Dungeon Mistress, please tell us you or the gods have some advice for us on how to deal with that,” Pinera asked.

  “God’s hands are tied. Besides the warning, they can’t intervene. And for me, it’s something outside my knowledge. I only suggest being discreet with any investigations. It could turn into something in my world, which was called a ‘witch hunt’.”

  “Agree.” Duncan nodded. “If we announce that publicly, people would start fearing each other. They would start seeing cultists and traitors everywhere. Many innocent people would die, and in some places society could collapse completely.”

  “But we need to do something. We can’t leave this matter untouched. Cultis will be getting stronger that way, and people already are scared because they know that someone betrayed people in that town.” Jathur interjected.

  “Maybe a letter from the Arch Priest?” Naomi suggested. “Something about trusting each other, and warning about deals too good to be true.”

  “A letter.” Arch Priest thought about that for the moment. “We can try it. But I propose that you, Dungeon Mistress, should write it.”

  “Me? I don’t know anything about such things.”

  “I will help.” Chino raised her hand. “I wrote countless letters. Both of us should be able to do it.”

  “Thanks. But people would listen to what I had to say?”

  “Dungeon Mistress. You are an envoy of the gods, and now also a champion. If you are saying something, it’s almost like gods talking through you.” Grand Forge Master explained.