Antilene woke up, and she realized no one was near her. The morning's light, entering gently through the tent opening, didn't help to overcome the strains of fatigue. Blinking repeatedly, only one question, that fundamental dilemma that broke down all barriers united everyone, echoed in her head.

  'Five more minutes?'

  The baneful question was answered by someone knocking. Or someone imitating the sound of knocking. The problem with tents was the clear absence of doors, in Antilene's opinion. A deliberate design error, according to her judgment.

  "Come on in," the half-elf replied, voice half-broken by a disgraceful desire to return in the blankets' hot embrace. Still in her modest nightgown, Antilene believed that formalities were to be expected only by people who lacked other forms of education.

  "Excuse me," Optics, already in full battle gear, entered with prudence, the noise of his steps abruptly interrupted when the shining scarlet eyes posed on the half-elf. "My lady, you could have told me to wait," the right hand was swift on covering the gaze which, to be fair, lacked curiosity.

  "No worries. There isn't much to hide anyway," still partly covered by the blankets Antilene yawned annoyed by the rising sun, so eager to replace the listless night. "Where is the queen?"

  "Right here," Queen Draudillon Oriculus emerged just behind the man, also cladded in full breastplate like her bodyguard. The silver armor, mere decoration, was a perfect fit for the woman. Advantages of being able to mold the body to every whims. "We didn't want to disturb your rest… but it's time."

  "They are already here?"

  "You told us to choose an area frequently raided."

  'Indeed, I did.' Indeed, she had. The morning Antilene cursed the afternoon Antilene, who believed in the motto 'a well-done job is a job done soon'. If it was true that you couldn't cry on spilled milk, it was equally a fact that recognizing your own mistakes was the first step in personal development. In that case, she had undoubtedly made one. "The beastmen could have waited for a more suitable hour before starting their rampages." Incapable of winning the drowsiness, the half-elf could just wake-up, saying farewell to the best -and only- lower she ever had. In her heart, a promise to never leave the pillow again was reforged with the invocation of a new basic principle: to sleep well is to live well.

  "We'll send them a letter of complaint," proposed Optics, tormented by that inscrutable affliction that led men to believe themselves witty. "We will also arrange a meeting for tea, if it pleases Your Highness."

  Good manners were a splendid and, regretfully, ancient invention, cradle of every culture worthy its name. At the same time, such solemn origins were also an excellent explanation for why too many were forgetful about it.

  'At this moment, coffee would be more appropriate,' corrected in her mind the half-elf. A quick glance to Queen Draudillon convinced Antilene about the goodness of her opinion; without a doubt that consideration was shared by the two of them and the disbelief furrowing the woman's brow was proof enough, no other confirmations needed.

  "Yeah, sure. I wouldn't like anything more than tea with demihumans," Lady Oriculus sighed defeated, almost surely disheartened by that lack of taste. Another point for the supremacy of coffee, if any doubt remained. "Now, can we hurry?"

  "I have not eaten yet. And my attire isn't suited for a battle." On the battlefield, both of these inconveniences could prove fatal, for different motivations. Just as equipment could determine the course of a clash, the lack of it could foreshadow an unpleasant surprise. "Give me ten minutes."

  "You get no more than five."

  Shrudding, Antilene had no other alternative than to accept. "They will be enough," she said. They wouldn't have been, all things considered.

  After Draudillon and Optics had left, while preparing the gears, the half-elf couldn't refrain from asking her growling stomach for forgiveness. A loaf of bread would have been her rich banquet.

  It was often claimed that breakfast was the most important meal of the day… Unwittingly, Antilene would have discovered how much wisdom could be found in that adage.

  The village was deserted. Small, with only a few dozen houses in all, in its heyday it could not have been more than the last refuge for desperate people who had nothing left, and who had seen everything and more in that limited space and on that small amount of arable land.

  At the moment, it was only hosting a group of demihumans busy dividing up the loot. Since gold or other precious metals could not be found in such remote places, the only resource that could be attained had a completely different origin.

  'Should I offer a prayer?'

  While the hot wind whistled, Antilene realized how futile certain actions could appear, after having repeated them a disproportionate number of times.

  For example, presenting yourself right in front of a small horde of beastmen, while they were trying to to catch the preys of the day was -in the daily life of a Theocracy's soldier- everything but uncommon.

  Antilene, whose experience on the field was greatly limited if compared to her companions of the Scripture, in a first moment could find excitement in purging evil from this wretched world. In giving herself a purpose, the half-elf thrived in fulfilling the sacred duty of annihilation.

  "Who are you?"

  Monotony, however, was a treacherous beast. The comfort that familiar patterns could provide became, in the long run, tiresome.

  Antilene didn't answer, for she already knew what would come next.

  The demihumans were hardened veterans, their scars and attitude proved it. They didn't try to approach the half-elf once she made her presence clear, nor did they start to charge heedlessly. Aware that no normal human would fight them alone if not absolutely sure of their skills, their preparations were testament of years spent refining survival abilities.

  "To which tribe you belong?"

  According to the Draconic Kingdom and the Theocracy's intel the invaders originated from a demihuman country in the east, split in different groups, divided according to their species. Their shining manes and feline faces, combined with their imposing bodies, gave away their origin.

  An adult nevayuu could mangle an adult's collarbone in the matter of a fraction of seconds and flay the thorax cage in even less.

  "..."

  But if Antilene had remained quiet at the beastmens' inquiry, in kind was the response awaiting her curiosity.

  Not that it mattered. The nevayuus started to circle her, cautious in their moves. The weapons -swords and maces still dripping the blood of recent victims- did not make any sound when unsheathed. Tens in total: three to the right, three to the left, two in the front, two in the back.

  Waiting for the first move, the casters behind her started to chant and the already steel-like muscles of the demihumans on the sides invigorated with energy, while the fighters disposed of according to a well tested formation.

  Despite the superiority in numbers, no underestimation. Despite the continuous triumphs against humans over the years, they were not tempted by the prospect of an easy victory.

  The beastmen remained motionless to predict how to move, leaving it inscrutable how often each movement could betray a future action. There was no carelessness on their part, yet they paid for a mistake that was never made when the half-elf did her deed.

  Wasn't it unfair how someone could do everything right, and get the wrong result in the end? It wasn't up to Antilene to establish if there was justice in the next outcome, it was just up to her to decide if it was worthy of not the ordeal.

  "Who are you?" In the matter of a blinking, the landscape heard a repetition of sounds, but not meaning. "Who are you?" At the start, concealed precautions. Before everything was stripped away. Then, after the ground had accepted the offerings made with nearest and dearest, it acquired a new connotation.

  "Who are you?" Over and over, the half-elf had heard it, and Six witnessing, she would have liked to provide the semblance of something that could grant what was requested by those who posed the issue. If her identity could be defined with such simplicity, Antilene would no longer have been the half-elf, nor the late extra-seat of the Black Scripture, nor the Evasha queen or the elves' savior.

  Maybe, Antilene could have been just a girl.

  "Who are you?"

  When each rite had been performed and each prayer invoked, the astonishment grew. It wasn't supposed to go like this, it wasn't expected to reach this result, and other dozens of exclamations that could be woven in the now deafening silence. As if the unpredictability gave consolation in the approaching end, and the thought of having done all you could was enough for what would come next.

  "I am the one asking questions here," Antilene severed the last navyuu's thread of hope with words alone. In watching his companions gently laid on the soil, the demihuman's awe left space for a new found subservience. "Your group was small. Is this how you usually operate… or something happened?"

  "You… are not a member of the Draconic Kingdom's army. Nor one of those adventures." Clearly, the demihuman wasn't unfamiliar with tightening an arm between his hands. In the same way, unfortunately for him, that unhealthy habit didn't translate into easily tightening one's own. "Not even the Holy Lord could get rid of so many of us in just the blink of an eye."

  "Congratulations on your insight. Now speak up," urged Antilene, already contemplating if cutting only one arm had been enough.

  The nevayuu looked around, his eyes squinting in every direction, searching for salvation in the now desolate village. As if, from one moment to the next, an entire army would come to his aid. But there was no one. Only him, and her. "Almost all the western part of this human nation is under our control at this point. My group was one of the few sent to search for the last survivors."

  No one would come to his help, and the only deliverance in wait was shaped like a scythe.

  "There were only members of your kind… Isn't yours an union of different species?"

  The irregular breathing displayed an increasing hesitation. The wounds inflicted had been meticulously calibrated so as not to kill him, but the mere fact that his senses had not yet been lost was evidence of great strength of spirit.

  "The current Negus is our king. But that doesn't mean the other monarchs aren't trying to increase their own personal power and that of their people, for when this war will be over."

  "What is a Negus?"

  "Don't you know anything about our culture?"

  "No."

  If the pain and the current predicament wouldn't have suggested otherwise, the nevayuu would have probably erupted in a loud laugh, and not a high-pitched snarl, like he did.

  "So you know nothing."

  "I don't."

  Once upon a time, irritation would have flowed in her veins. After spending so much time in the wilds, Antilene had learnt the lesson of patience.

  "Are you… one of them?"

  "One of them?"

  "The white sorcerers… The ones who even the brave king couldn't subdue."

  Names, names. Why did everyone speak about names who hold no true significance? 'White sorcerers, though… Could they be linked with the five fingers?' Even if, that beastmen didn't know anything about them: his uncertainty proved it.

  "All of this… To me is nothing," Antilene waved her hand in the hair, driving away pesky insects attracted by the corpses. "What I am aiming for is the holy relic. I know your people are searching for it."

  Curiosity took hold of his gaze. Curiosity... and something else. Even just a few steps away from the abyss of death, greed reigned supreme in life. Impossible to say if the tremble coming from the nevayuu's healthy arm was a last sign of remaining vitality or the first spasm of a newfound goal.

  It wasn't unusual for the truth to lie somewhere in between two extremes.

  "So… It was true. The treasures of the ancient dragon lay in this kingdom…"

  The half-elf just shrugged, waiting for the demihuman to continue.

  "You found one of them, that's how you are this strong…"

  Once again, the half-elf remained quiet. The seed had been planted, and it wouldn't take long to sprout.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  "You are letting your imagination run wild. I'm simply a collector in search of ancient memorabilia. My strength is only the addition of good exercise and healthy alimentation."

  "I… I see…" The more trivial the truth, the more the search for a satisfactory lie was fueled. It was a natural mechanism, based on a difficulty in accepting one's own mediocrity. If someone has defeated me, who am I to be special, it means that they are even more special than me. Reasoning like that could prove to be very dangerous, but also very useful when necessary. "I had heard that some clans were venturing in some areas remote from the usual ones, but I didn't expect…"

  "So your people are also taking part in it? Those white sorcerers are guiding them?"

  The nevayuu lowered his head, for sure pondering how much he could share to a stranger like her. Antilene didn't condemn him for it.

  "You will kill me anyway…"

  "Yes. So why waste my time?"

  It was, truth be told, a really impolite move as the last act.

  "Then, can I ask for a final request?" The fierce and proud warrior pleaded with every energy that could be muster. The aching of the upper-body gave away how little he could resist without further healing.

  "What is it?"

  "Burn my and my companions' bodies. Do it, and I will tell you everything you want."

  An unexpected turn of events. As a wish it didn't lack originality. Antilene's curiosity, once piqued, knew how to have the best of her.

  "It has to be with the white sorcerers and the undead plaguing the region lately, doesn't it?"

  Interesting how, on rare occasions, the absence of words could articulate entire discussions. In theory, even if a corpse was used as the catalyst for a summon the creature emerging from it would not coincide with the original one. In practice, soul matters were the perfect recipe for a headache and nobody could ascertain precisely what was going on…

  "Why did you demihumans start to work with the undead? Isn't it blasphemy for your culture?" While assumptions based on common sense couldn't always prove reliable, the hate for the undead was a common occurrence no matter whenever one went. To think that a simple beastmen nation in that corner of the world differed from that way of thinking was… weird, to say the least. "Ah, I can see it. It wasn't a choice, was it? A proud nation of warriors bent the knees to necromancers so easily?"

  And then the nevayuu said something that took Antilene by surprise. "It wasn't only the white sorcerers… After the defeat at Gelone's Fortress… The Nagus… He made a pact with something…" Was it the pain that made him so feverish, or did the strange coloration of his skin derive from something else?

  "Something? Can't you be more specific?" But at that point the demihuman collapsed, his fall light as a feather. "Ehi! Ehi!" No matter how much she called him, he was dead. Antilene checked his pulse more than one time to get a confirmation. Once she had got it, the half-elf puffed in frustration.

  'Damn, it's like the spell used to avoid the Scripture members getting interrogated, but even more refined. A single question was enough to provoke a clean death. Watching him, no one would even believe the cause was unnatural.'

  Even with previous experience of such magic, she hadn't thought it possible that it could be not only replicated, but even refined. Not by those she had believed to be simple savages.

  'I have sinned through arrogance.'

  Remaining in contemplation, Antilene reflected on how much everything had gone wrong. Her skills as a planner were still lacking to be honest and this was another proof of it.

  'Rufus would reprimand me for my recklessness… And he would be right… The questions are still a lot, and of my aims not a single one was achieved.'

  It took her a few minutes to recover and stop cursing herself for her incompetence. By that time, both Optics and Draudillon had caught up with her.

  "Weren't you supposed to leave one of them alive so they could spread the news about the holy relics?" Asked the swordsman, the rays of midday reflecting on his worried expression.

  "We should have created a distraction to give the demihuman the chance to escape, but we saw you here alone deep in thoughts," continued Draudillon, biting her lips in agitation. Exchanging a worried glance with Optics, the queen avoided looking directly at the half-elf, pointing her attention to what remained of the nevayuus.

  Antilene, in response, could only admit what had just happened.

  "... I fucked up."

  "You don't like tea?"

  It wasn't every day when a queen served you. Staring at the hot drink in the cup, Antilene could sense Draudillon's apprehension for her.

  "Not that much… But it will suffice. Thank you."

  The lemon fragrance filled her palate. A bitter aftertaste remained stuck on the half-elf's lips.

  "Delicious," Queen Oriculus, unlike the half-elf, had no problems showing her appreciation. "The blend comes from the Empire… But the lemons are a special cultivation of the Draconic Kingdom, one of the many treasures of the Ruspina's region. Be it afternoon or morning, there is nothing better to accompany cookies and pastries."

  Sweets in the aftermath of a failure would normally bring comfort. On any other occasion, even relief. On that bare camp-table, surrounded by the desert landscape and the sunset peeking over the horizon, they finished painting a rather outlandish picture.

  "They are not bad… Lately it seems that I can't escape cakes or other amenities…"

  Draudillon took a second cookie, savoring it with a small bite. Then another sip of tea, slowly. Incredibly slowly. Like every drop had to be carefully examined by her taste buds. She repeated the same action a couple of times, without ever losing her composure. "Is there something worrying you?" In the blue eyes could be glimpsed a hint of curiosity. "It's the first time since we have met each other that I see you… stirred."

  Not that she didn't appreciate the care, but showing such a highly visible vulnerability didn't sit right with the half-elf.

  "For starters, everyone would feel out of place in having a snack… where are we again?"

  With her head tilted slightly to the right, the great ravine that divided the valley appeared to be even more furrowed in the earth. Antilene watched as Optics, right on the edge of the precipice, whistled some unknown tune, but always making sure that his peripheral vision was focused on the queen.

  "The Weeping Dragon Passage," explained Draudillon, clasping the forearms of the armor, as if the very words were a strike to guard against. "It's where the Eight Greed Kings were said to have slain more than one of the ancient dragons during their rampage. My grandfather named this place in memory of his friends. As we were in the area already, I took the opportunity to show you."

  'The Eight Greed Kings… Grandfather was here then,' the world remained the same it had been for the last centuries, but for Antilene every nook and cranny was reshaped to her vision, with just an additional information. "The view is great… But also bare. It is difficult to believe a great battle was consumed right where we are now."

  Some magical creatures roamed in the distance. Mostly jumping hares, black-mantle foxes and blue robins. Nothing that could be defined as dangerous.

  Maybe the ancient magic of the dragons resting in that unusual grave still lingered and attracted living beings. Or maybe it was just the whims of nature, that had the death of the strong fuel the life of the weak.

  Maybe it wasn't anything at all.

  "I find it relaxing… Grandfather used to bring me here when I was little. Telling me stories about his friends… He called them friends, but I doubt he really saw the old dragons like that. For him, it was just the imitation of a concept that would sound familiar to me." Draudillon allowed herself a lapse in the memories, her long auburn hair being tickled by a light breeze. "I think he wanted to teach me a lesson. Even those who believe themselves infallible often make mistakes. The ancient dragon lords underestimated the threat of the Eight until it was too late. If they had acted with more awareness... Well, maybe not much would have changed, but there would have been fewer regrets for those who survived."

  Looking above, the sky was limpid, with only a few clouds up there. Antilene wanted her mood to be as clear.

  "I made a mistake…"

  A source of precious information was lost only because of her impulsiveness. Because, when faced with the prospect of a quick result, she had been consumed by greed. Antilene wasn't new to making errors, but this time the disappointment she felt burned fiercely in her soul.

  "Everyone makes mistakes, even you," Draudillon said, in an attempt to ease her doubts. The woman's hand approached hers, but stopped only a fraction of an inch away, as if that infinitesimal distance were endless. "You still found out that your plan was working, didn't you? The beastmen are starting to rush to this place, in search of holy relics… and at that point…"

  "History will repeat itself. That's what you mean?" A promised carnage, just in the same place part of her legacy had started, that was what Antilene had offered to the Draconic Kingdom. The ironic thing? It was no accurate plan that had set things to be like that, just mere coincidence. She had always feared to resemble her father, but maybe it had been that unknown grandfather all along, the one from whom she had inherited everything.

  "History never repeats itself. It just gives us that impression because we are unable to truly grasp the scale of the events we are experiencing; therefore, we associate them with something familiar. Future generations will give the right value to the present." Was Draudillon betting on the future generations? The reward didn't justify the risk, in that case.

  And yet, the half-elf wanted to make the same bet. Was the queen influencing her? Or was another reason that prompted her? A ruler was someone who watched the bigger picture, per Cardinals' teachings. A good ruler was someone who worked for tomorrow having in mind yesterday, per Antilene's considerations.

  "We still aren't sure if they will come here, anyway. For all we know, they could scatter all over the kingdom." Antilene finished her tea without much gusto. All that remained were the sweets, yet no hunger to accompany them.

  "Even the beastmen know the sacredness of this place. It's not without reason to concur they will come here," Draudillon was quite confident of what she proclaimed, or that was the impression she was attempting to cast. "The citizens of the Theocracy are distinguished by their faith, aren't they? Have faith, then."

  "It's unexpected to hear you preach about faith."

  "How so?"

  "We don't share the same faith, in the first place."

  "We don't?"

  Actually, Antilene couldn't tell. The Six had some temples in the Draconic Kingdom, but so had the Four and other minor beliefs. As for the queen... There was no way the half-elf could say that she had ever seen her praying. For a follower of the Six, this was unthinkable.

  "I didn't tell you anything… The demihuman, the nevayuu I had spared at the start, was afraid of something. Or, rather, of someone. They are called the white sorcerers, but I suspect they are something else, and the reason I am here in the first place."

  "Do you know them?"

  "I can't put my hand on the fire regarding the matter. In Evasha, just before I settled things with my father, there was a strange surge of undead. And, actually, strange incidents persisted even after my crowing."

  Draudillon remained unperturbed, except for a slight movement of the fingers that made the cup wobble, albeit imperceptibly.

  "Undead, you say? Just like…"

  "Just like what has been happening here since last month…," concluded Antilene for her. "The last report of the Scripture talks about a very powerful magic caster leading the beastmen in the last bout between your army and the demihumans." Even if Windstride's reliability was questionable, the other Scriptures' reports confirmed the weird abundance of undead in the region, something that even the higher echelons of the Draconic Kingdom were aware of at that point.

  "... Elder liches?" Draudillon asked.

  "Yes, but worse."

  Standing up, the queen held her breath, in search of the courage to utter what was blocking her throat. "Worse than an elder lich? Don't you want to say… Night Liches?" An epithet that spelled an epitaph of dread for those who dared to pronounce those words. "Who is it? Argoros the dragonlich? Siyern the titan? Or… Fear?"

  'The lord of the shadows,' thought Antilene. Each of these three was master of a dark and terrible domain, far away in the world. 'No one would expect them to interfere in the matters of this forgotten corner of existence.'

  And yet secrets and distant tales could affect even those who tried to avoid them.

  "I can't say for certain. These you nominated are the only ones we have some semblance of news of… But there are more. I killed one myself years ago, and I suspect there is some link with what is happening here right now."

  The deeds of the past always returned, making escaping from it impossible. With no opportunity to change them, Antilene had no choice but to accept their consequences.

  "You killed one of these monsters? You killed a night lich, which is said to have the power of an entire nation?"

  Returning to her encounter with Kunivela and his acolytes, even that estimation sounded an underestimation. Nations like the Empire, the Holy Kingdom or the Draconic Kingdom itself would have fallen without having the time to plan a resistance if one of the powerful undead casters were to seriously attack them.

  Truly, an enemy that in normal circumstances humanity had no chance against.

  "So what?"

  Draudillon could only come to terms with what she had heard, satisfying her curiosity with so little. "It's one of these monsters that is threatening my home?"

  "Maybe more than one…"

  "Splendid," that horrible possibility, that in other circumstances could have made the listener shiver in fear, was accepted with composed dignity. "And here I thought things couldn't get any worse."

  "You seem to be taking it well," noted Antilene. Fortitude or simple surrender?

  "What should I do? At this point we are already in the ballet room… We can just dance. Didn't you promise to save this kingdom? I shall trust you."

  The weight that word, trust, imposed was heavy.

  "I guess you are right," as Draudillon took a walk nearby, the half-elf tried to remember something… Something that had bothered her for a long time. "Be it one or two, night liches will not be a problem." Ten, though, or more… Antilene was seized by a wave of concern. And excitement. Clenching her fists, she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

  A familiar voice disturbed the stillness barely ripened.

  "Sorry to interrupt," Optics approached in fret, sweat dripping from his forehead. "We have company." The worker's tone of voice couldn't hide a hint of concern.

  Both Antilene and the queen followed him, halting at the cliff edge. "There. Watch!" He pointed to a part of the valley sheltered by a rocky formation. From afar, they could glimpse figures moving in the distance, busy setting up what at first glance could have been described as a small camp.

  Squinting her eyes, the half-elf had no problems recognizing the mysterious visitors.

  "Demihumans? Nevayuus again?"

  "Only a few of them. Lady Fouche, what are you gonna do?"

  "You and Queen Oriculus stay here. I will talk with them. Optics, don't disappoint me."

  The swordsman nodded, a sardonic smile only hinted on his face. "It would be difficult to disappoint you even more. But I'll try my best."

  "They don't seem dangerous," said Draudillon. "But please, pay attention."

  Antilene was already in the midst of jumping towards them. "Got it." She couldn't tell if she was proceeding as it was expected from her. There were no traces of other enemies near them, but a sophisticated concealment skill could have fooled even her.

  In any case, Draudillon had a way to defend herself, if worse came to worse…

  The half-elf moved cautiously near the demihumans, preparing for the fight. Approaching, she could see how badly they had been battered. Some remained seated even when they saw her, very few of them having the energy necessary to hold a weapon. Most didn't even look like soldiers and, if it hadn't been for their natural gifts, they would have been even considered harmless.

  "A human?"

  Difficult as it was to distinguish the age of demihumans, it was evident that the one who spoke stood out for his youthful appearance compared to the others. His build was thinner, the voice soft and the eyes and face tried to masker with resolution and leadership what was uncertainty. As the mouth hesitated, the arms couldn't stop slightly shaking.

  Nothing of that had no importance to Antilene, whose attention was captured by the color of the fur. White. White as snow.

  "What are you doing here?" Asked the half-elf, paying attention to them. Having still in mind the experience of the morning, she refrained from repeating the earlier failures.

  "We…" The young nevayuu couldn't finish. One of the soldiers, sword at hands, stood between him and the half-elf.

  "My prince," he said, while raising an oval bronze shield. "This woman is bad news…"

  Antilene whistled surprised. Not everyone was able to understand her strength in such a short fraction of time.

  "I don't sense anything dangerous from her," replied the one who was, evidently, a sort of prince.

  "That's the point, my lord. Everyone, before engaging with strangers, enemies no less, emits no matter what minimum emotions. Fear, anticipation, bloodlust… But she… Nothing. A human woman, showing herself to a group of proud nevayuus, without a small change in her expressions or imprecise movements. Cold as ice, she makes my blood freeze."

  That warrior stood up for his acumen, Antilene considered. More so, if compared to the other nevayuus, who just waited for directions, clueless about what to do with the danger posing in their front.

  "Your intuition deserves praise, warrior. But proud nevayuus? I only see scared cubs." A far cry from the great battle she had anticipated. That small group couldn't even provide a tale for some drunkards in a small inn of some remote region, forget the epic story that could inspire hearts and repel monsters. "Searching for the holy relics? If that is your aim, I am afraid you are too late."

  "We…," Once again, the prince tried to speak.

  "My prince," When the guard tried to stop him, this time was met with a fierce rebuttal by his liege.

  "We have no alternatives, Ashiramn. You said it yourself, didn't you? She is strong. And someone strong is what we need." Still trembling, the young demihuman forced himself to act as a leader. The result, while unconvincing, was enough to assert his position. "I need to ask her."

  "...Go ahead, then."

  Intrigued, Antilene waited for him to speak. And, at that point, something happened that never, not even in her wildest dreams, the half-elf could have imagined.

  The demihuman knelt at her feet.

  "I beg you, human. You and all the people in this kingdom. My father needs your help."

  Unexpectedly, Antilene was left speechless.