Once Magus Elias joined them, the atmosphere of the party changed.

Kai could tell that most of his men hadn’t expected the old Magus to actually come along—especially with the deep-rooted rivalry between Vanderfall and Lancephil. Whispers began almost at once, cautious glances thrown toward the Magus riding silently near the front. It got bad enough that Killian had to discipline a few men for being too distracted.

No one spoke to Elias. No one even dared. Not even Bishop Maurice, who had offered a formal greeting and then kept a wide berth ever since.

Still, Elias’ presence, at least on the surface, proved to be a blessing. The old Magus was the strongest among them and even Kai couldn’t compare his strength to him at least in pure raw power. And more importantly, he was confident Elias wouldn’t try anything—at least not until the treant was dead. The hatred Elias held for the plague’s creator, the one who had ruined his homeland, was real. That gave Kai enough assurance to let him stay close. For now.

And it paid off. Elias, an Earth Magus of terrifying control, took over the defense of the group.

Unlike Kai, he didn’t maintain a constant shield. Instead, he reacted when necessary. Whenever a fiend or weaver got too close, the earth would respond like a living thing—spikes erupting from below, impaling the enemy in an instant. It looked as if Elias could sense everything in a wide circle around them—a three sixty vision.

Kai noticed faint threads of mana running down Elias’ legs into the ground. That had to be [Deepward Eye]—a third-circle earth spell that allowed the caster to track any movement in the surrounding terrain. The size of its range depended on one’s affinity and control, but in Elias’ hands, it worked flawlessly. It was one of Kai’s favorite earth spells, a reminder that Earth Mages were truly versatile. From building things to tracking things, they could do a lot.

With Elias fending off sneak attacks, Kai was finally able to conserve his mana. And that was crucial, because the deeper they went, the more powerful their enemies became.

At one point, a group of weavers—twisted Mages whose minds had long since rotted from corruption—rushed them. Six in total. They had likely sensed the combined mana of the group and come hunting. Two of them carried the strength of a Second-Circle Mage, while the others hovered around the first. But even so, they were nothing to Kai. Unlike true spellcasters, weavers fought on instinct. No tactics, no defense—just rage and power.

Kai cut them down quickly, using efficient, clean spells. He didn’t want to reveal too much this early—not with Elias watching him so closely. The old Magus’ eyes never left him during the fight, studying every movement, every flick of his fingers. Kai responded by keeping his magic basic but controlled.

But as they passed through a long-dead grove where grade-three bone wolves had turned into starving fiends, even that restraint was tested. The massive creatures—twisted things with white bone jutting out of their backs—hadn’t tasted human flesh in a long while. The moment they sensed fresh blood, they descended with a frenzy.

They were surrounded. For a few moments, the entire force wavered. Panic threatened to take hold. But Kai and Elias moved. They kept them off, carving through the fiends with wind and stone. It was their first real test, the first time their forces truly felt the threat of loss. And yet, by the end, the two of them won.

And the men behind them began to believe. But the fiends kept coming as they walked.

Even with the Enforcers holding the line and Magus Elias intercepting most of the ambushes, it wasn’t enough. The fiends were relentless. Twisted, starved things that attacked with no fear of pain or death.

And though the trained fighters did everything they could, they couldn’t protect everyone. At one point, a wild fiend leapt over a defensive line of Clerics and Paladins, crashing into them like a falling boulder. Before anyone could react, it had already torn through three of them—a Paladin and two Clerics—killing them on the spot. Five more, men from Viscount Redmont’s force, were injured trying to fend it off.

It was only thanks to Killian’s quick intervention, sword glowing with lightning, that the creature was brought down before it could tear through more of the formation. Even then, the damage was done.

The battle ended shortly after, but the losses left a mark. It made some of the men in the formation—especially Viscount Redmont’s men, move forward with doubt.

Though Kai considered them lucky, all things considered. Only three dead and a handful wounded—numbers that could have been far worse given the sheer number of fiends. Once the path ahead was cleared, they pushed forward until they found a cave nestled in a cluster of rocky hills. It was quiet. Isolated. A place to catch their breath.

They took a half-day break there—the longest they’d rested since the expedition began.

And as he finally sat down, the tension in his body hit him all at once. He hadn’t realized how tightly wound he’d been, how often he’d been running on the edge of collapse. Most nights he’d barely slept more than an hour, relying on [Refresh] spells just to keep moving. But now, with a proper rest, the exhaustion caught up with him.

He allowed himself to sleep, truly sleep, for the first time in days. And when he woke, he felt the difference. Clearer mind. Calmer body. The kind of rest that reminded him that he needed to sleep, more than he thought he did.

Still, no matter how sweet the break had been, they couldn’t afford to linger. The treant—the fiend that had started all of this—was still out there, spreading its rot. So they moved again.

Everyone was more alert now. The losses had shaken them. And when they finally reached an open field surrounded by sparse woodland, Kai allowed himself to ease up just a little.

Ambushes would be easier to spot here. And easier to crush. A place that they could manage.

Kai didn’t let his guard down, not even in the open field. His shoulders stayed squared, eyes scanning the edges of the tree line. Footsteps approached from behind. The air around them seemed to shift with each one, the way it did when earth mana pressed down on the surroundings.

Magus Elias.

“You handled the aftermath well,” the old Magus said, his gaze fixed not on Kai but the distant treetops swaying in the wind. “Calling for rest—most leaders don’t think of that. Not when they’re still young.”

Kai almost smiled. Almost. A response hovered on his tongue, something about not being as young as he looked, but it faded. He studied Elias instead. The man hadn’t come to talk about rest.

“I just knew they needed it,” Kai said finally, eyes flicking toward the group behind them. Some were walking drowsily, others sharpening weapons or whispering among themselves. “Losing people… doesn’t get easier. Not for soldiers. Not for Mages.”

Elias hummed. “Speaking of soldiers… yours are interesting.”

Kai knew what he meant. “They’re my knights.”

At that, Elias cleared his throat. “Knights,” he repeated. “Fitting. With how they fight.”

He waited, letting the silence stretch, clearly expecting more—details, an explanation, some glimpse behind the curtain. Kai offered nothing. Just met his gaze. A breeze passed. A few leaves twisted in the wind.

Five minutes crawled by.

“You’re different,” Elias said at last.

“Everyone is.”

“Not like this. You’re the most unusual Mage I’ve seen in decades. Everything about you—it doesn’t add up. I pegged you for fourth circle at first. But no. You barely use fourth-circle spells. And yet… if we fought, I doubt I’d win easily.”

Kai let out a low chuckle. “Thinking of going against me, Magus Elias?”

The old man’s lips twitched. “Maybe. Someday. A sparring match, nothing more. I’d rather be your friend.”

Interesting. Kai didn’t know the man wanted to be friends. “And why is that?”

“Because you’re worth befriending. You’re careful. Too careful. You knew from the beginning I wasn’t just tagging along. I tried to speak with your people—more like interrogating them, really. They were shaken. But I didn’t learn enough.” He paused, then added, almost thoughtfully, “You’re not naive.”

“I’m thinking maybe…” Elias began, then stopped.

Kai narrowed his eyes. “Maybe?”

But Elias didn’t answer. His entire body went still, and his gaze dropped to the ground beneath their feet. His voice changed.

“No time. Something’s coming. From below.”

Kai’s head snapped toward him.

“Everyone, guard up!” he shouted, voice slicing through the camp like a blade. “We’ve got movement—underground! Watch your footing! If the ground shifts, jump clear!”

All around them, weapons were drawn. Mages readied spells. Paladins raised shields. The field that had felt so open suddenly felt far too exposed.

Kai’s eyes stayed fixed on the ground, unmoving. He felt nothing yet—no mana tremor, no shift in weight—but his instincts screamed at him. A deep, crawling certainty that something was wrong. That something was near.

The ground in front of him bulged. He was already in the air before it burst.

Roots, thick as a man’s thigh, shot upward, thrashing like limbs trying to drag him down. They twisted, aimed to catch him mid-flight and slam him against the dirt. But he was faster. Flames erupted around him in a sweeping arc, incinerating the nearest tendrils. Charred bark cracked and curled in the heat.

Then another tremor hit—deeper, stronger.

“Fiend incoming!” Elias shouted, making all the heads turn.

The ground erupted again. This time it wasn’t roots.

Something clawed its way out from the earth, soil and stone falling from its shaggy form. It rose on two thick limbs, its back hunched, arms knuckle-dragging. Every inch of it was covered in dark, matted fur. At first glance, it looked like a gorilla—if a gorilla had been born in a nightmare.

But Kai knew better. It was a chimera. One that had turned into a fiend.

Gasps rippled through the ranks, and someone shouted the name aloud. Others followed, voices rising in alarm as the creature bellowed, baring jagged teeth.

Kai had never fought a chimera fiend himself—but he knew the stories. Grade-four beasts. Naturally strong. Unnaturally fast. Born in deep caves, where their claws carved tunnels and their senses sharpened in the dark. No ranged abilities, thankfully. Or so he thought.

The chimera reached down, grabbed a chunk of stone larger than a man’s torso, and hurled it like a catapult. The rock sailed through the air, smashing into a line of Paladins. Their shields held—but the force knocked them backward, boots dragging deep grooves in the dirt.

Kai’s brow creased.

More roots lashed upward toward him, closing in fast. He veered hard left, ducking low and twisting mid-air. The vines snapped behind him like whips, always a step too slow—but always reaching.

They were after him alone.

Good.

It meant the others could fight the chimera freely.

“Form up!” he shouted from above. “Stay out of its reach! Use bows, javelins and guns. Support the Mages! Don’t rush in unless you can tank the hit!”

But even as he barked orders, his force was already moving. Training kicking in. Arrows hissed through the air, javelins followed behind them with bolts of mana, and fire and ice lit the battlefield as spells detonated against the beast’s furred hide. The creature roared and twisted, but couldn’t charge.

Magus Elias raised both hands, and the earth responded.

Spikes shot upward beneath the chimera’s feet, forcing it to jump back. The terrain shifted, ground collapsing one moment and rising the next, boulders yanked out of its grasp before it could throw them. Elias basically dictated the battlefield like it was his own body.

It was a masterclass in dual casting. And it gave the others the opening they needed.

Killian charged in first, his blade wreathed in crackling thunder, Gareth right behind him with his weapon glowing dimly. Their strikes landed—clean, sharp, brutal.

The chimera roared again. But this time, it sounded less like fury— And more like pain.

Kai watched the chimera’s form in the distance, still fighting, still surrounded—but holding on.

They would manage. He was certain of that now.

He turned his focus upward, wind circling around him in sharp currents. With a flick of his fingers, he compressed the air, shaping it into blades. They sliced through the incoming roots, cutting them clean at the ends. Before they could retreat or wriggle free, Kai followed up with a stream of fire, burning the stumps to blackened ash.

But they kept growing back. Faster this time. As if the treant had woken up and was watching.

He narrowed his eyes. That might’ve been true. It would make sense that the treant was just powering up every attack it sent.

Still, Kai had more than enough mana to keep going. Fire lashed out again and again, but the constant movement, the darting, weaving, twisting in the air—he was burning through stamina faster than mana.

His breaths came harder now. Not ragged, but close. If he continued like this, he would be dead.

Deciding that he had to change his strategy, he chanted under his breath, and flames roared to life, encasing him in a shell of massive red and gold. A cloak of fire from head to toe, spiraling gently with his mana. He floated there, unmoving, the heat so intense that the very roots that reached for him caught fire before making contact.

They came faster. They burned faster. But he didn’t have to chase anymore. He let them come.

And while he held his position in the air like a blazing sun, he looked down. The chimera was dying.

Its body was riddled with wounds—deep holes that bled thick, blackened ichor. Even with its natural regeneration, strengthened further by its fiendish corruption, it couldn’t keep up. Too many spells. Too many strikes.

The Enforcers had boxed it in, weapons raised, forcing it back with every move. Killian and Gareth circled. Every time it tried to charge, someone from behind attacked, and Killian pushed from the front line.

And Magus Elias…

Kai watched as the ground trembled below the chimera’s feet. Spears of stone burst up in perfect rhythm, stabbing into the beast’s joints, its gut, its flanks.

As the chimera dropped to one knee, growling low, Elias sent the final strike—a long, jagged pike of earth that drove straight through its back. Killian moved in, driving his sword into the creature’s chest to make sure it stayed down.

Then, silence. And then, the silence was followed with a loud cheer.

It rippled across the forces like a wave. Relief. Victory.

At that same moment, the roots around Kai began to wither and pull back, slinking into the soil like snakes retreating from fire. The treant had withdrawn. For now.

Kai hovered in place, gaze cold. That roots and chimera meant one thing—it was watching. And it knew they were close. Closer than ever.

He slowly descended, boots hitting the earth with a soft crunch.

Elias approached immediately, his robe smudged with dust and faint streaks of blood at the hem.

“You conjured interesting flames,” the Magus said with a faint smirk. “I thought to help—but you were managing just fine on your own.”

Kai let the fire around him dissolve with a faint hiss. “You did plenty. That chimera could’ve wrecked half the force without your spells.”

“We’ll need every number we can spare for the final fight. And I believe it’s coming. The treant attacking us this far from its body… you were right. It’s spreading the plague through the roots below.”

“Yeah. And it’s watching us. I can’t shroud our force—It’s rooted into the land itself. The whole country is it’s eyes.”

“We’d be safer in the skies. If only we were all you,” Elias said with obvious hints of sarcasm.

Kai simply smiled in response.

That was when Killian walked up, helmet under one arm, brow furrowed and streaked with dirt.

“I don’t think there’s a way to avoid losses,” he said bluntly. “Those roots are going to keep coming, and more dangerous things will follow. We can’t outrun them.”

Kai nodded slowly.

“I know.”

And somewhere deep below them, the ground pulsed.

Magus Elias folded his arms, gaze drifting across the recovering troops. The cheers had quieted, replaced by tired hands tending to wounds, reforging discipline in silence.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about the treant,” he said at last. “Your force… It’s a good one. Mixed strengths. Sharp minds. And considering how deep we’ve come with so few casualties? That says something.” He paused, jaw tightening slightly. “But the real problem isn’t getting to the treant.”

His eyes darkened.

“It’s when we reach it.”

Kai turned to him and looked at him with curiosity in his eyes. Elias saw the question.

“I’ve seen it, trust me kid,” Elias said. “It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever laid eyes on—but it comes close. It’s the kind of thing you’d find if hell had a garden. If it wanted to punish you. Show you every soul you failed to save… and feed them back to you in roots and screams.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Kai didn’t flinch.

“Then our first task,” he said softly, “is to stand in front of hell proudly—and not look away.”

His gaze swept over the field below, watching as his soldiers began to reform their ranks.

“If we can do that… we’ve already won half the battle.”

***

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