The tools hanging from the forge walls clattered and swayed, as if possessed. A hammer dropped from its hook, landing with a loud clang that made one of the kids scream.

  The ground vibrated beneath Alyra’s shoes.

  She gripped a ceiling beam for support.

  This didn’t feel like thunder. It was too deep. Too steady.

  The blacksmith stood frozen, brow furrowed, listening.

  Markus’s apprentices huddled in a corner, most of them shaking. The one with the bandage stayed close to Alyra, staring at her with his one wide eye.

  She tried to offer a reassuring smile. The rumble kept building, louder than the downpour hammering the sheet metal roof. The roar outside echoed the thudding in her chest. Something was coming. Something big.

  “What is it?” Alyra finally asked.

  Markus glanced at her, serious. “No idea. But it’s headed this way.”

  Derek stopped under a massive kapok tree, one armored hand resting on the rough trunk. The storm was still tearing the jungle apart with bursts of rain and wind. Sunset wasn’t far off, which sure wouldn’t help visibility.

  “Vanda, where’s that zombie buffalo stampede heading?”

  “Give me a second. Confirmed. Exactly as predicted. It’s moving toward Ebonshade.”

  He scowled. “How close to Ebonshade are they going to get?”

  “Based on telemetry from the Repair Bots, they’re not just getting close. They’re going through it. They’ll trample the buildings and anyone in their path. Living. Or otherwise.”

  Derek’s stomach clenched. “Are you sure? Alyra and that other girl could be hiding in one of those houses.”

  “Yes, Derek. Unless they stop or change course, there won’t be anything left of the village. I... I’m sorry.”

  A wet thump made him spin around.

  Tunga had appeared out of nowhere. “Why we stop?”

  “The undead buffalo herd is heading into town. It’s probably going to level everything. Can you do anything? Animals usually listen to you.”

  He shook his head. “Only living ones. And I talk better with plants.”

  Derek grimaced. “Let’s move. If they’re hiding in one of the homes, we need to find them before the stampede turns it to rubble.”

  “Elias will be waiting too. Might be a trap.”

  “Right now, Elias isn’t the one I’m worried about. It’s that Franken-horror stitched from corpses. I doubt the micro-missiles finished it off.”

  Tunga frowned. “As long as Elias has the Life sphere, you can’t beat him.”

  Derek exhaled hard. Tunga was right. No matter what he threw at the undead priest, the bastard would just get back up. In a direct fight, there was no way to win. His only hope was that Isabelle had managed to draw him away.

  “Vanda. We're going back to Ebonshade. Plot the most direct route. Reduce armor weight and push reactor to 110%.”

  “Right away, Derek.”

  “Tell the Repair Bots to scan the houses. I want infrared. Undead shouldn’t emit body heat like the living. It’ll help them find the girls faster. Once you spot them, light up the minimap with a green marker.”

  “Understood,” Vanda said. A short pause. “Derek, the first row of houses has already been destroyed. It’s possible that—”

  “I don’t want to hear it. Alyra’s fine.” He turned to Tunga. “Let’s go.”

  He aligned the NOVA’s systems with the new route.

  The shaman was already darting through the jungle, a black wraith swinging through the canopy.

  “Alyra’s fine,” Derek muttered.

  Markus slammed the forge’s door shut behind him. “We need to get out of here, now!”

  Alyra’s heart skipped. “What’s going on?”

  “The animals scattered after that undead mess. But now they’re back, and they’re charging through like demons possessed. They’ve already taken out the first few houses. And they’re not slowing down.”

  Alyra’s eyes widened. “What? Animals don’t act like that!”

  Markus nodded grimly. “Something’s wrong. But if we don’t get out of here, we’re next.” He grabbed his massive blacksmith’s hammer from the floor and slung it over his shoulder. “Let’s go. Now.”

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  Alyra grabbed his arm. “Where are we going?”

  “To the Temple of Orbisar. Biggest, sturdiest building in Ebonshade. I doubt even that herd could knock it down.”

  Elias was probably in there. Along with who knew what else. It was like running into the wolf’s den.

  Markus must’ve seen the fear in her eyes, because his expression softened. He placed a large, callused hand on her shoulder. Surprisingly warm. Gentle, even.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. Trust me.”

  There was something grounded and unshakable in the man. Like a boulder in the storm. Alyra swallowed and managed a small nod. “Okay.” She turned to the kids and motioned with her head.

  Wind howled through the forge. Then came the stench: wet earth... and rot. With Markus in the lead, they plunged into the storm.

  Isabelle kicked one of the benches with all her strength. The rotten wood exploded into a thousand splinters across the temple floor.

  “Damn it! I’ll find you, you damned spy! Wherever you’re hiding! And you better pray Alyra’s okay, because if anything happens to her...”

  She clenched her fist, halfway through the motion to punch something else.

  That damn spy had fooled her again. Probably hadn’t even been there in the first place. Too clever to face her head-on. She’d give anything to hunt her down right now, but there were more pressing matters.

  She needed to stop Elias. Help Derek save Alyra. The hunt for the heretic would have to wait. And when that day came, not even Orbisar would save her.

  A high-pitched voice broke her train of thought. “Temper will lead you away from the Light, my child.”

  The voice came from the altar, opposite the direction she’d entered.

  She turned sharply.

  Elias stood there, his staff casting a ghostly green light over his face. Half of it was decayed, bones and sinew exposed. His robes were torn in several places, and his eyes were dull and lifeless.

  Isabelle narrowed her eyes. Another illusion from that damned spy? “Are you... really Elias?”

  He looked down at his tattered clothes. “I know I look... awful. These are dark times. But yes, it’s me. You shouldn’t doubt that. What can I do for you, child?”

  That was how Elias used to speak to his followers. But Sierelith could’ve copied it again. Still... why pull the same trick twice?

  Her heart sped up. Maybe it really was Elias. Maybe the temple itself was triggering something, some echo of who he used to be. Now was her chance.

  Isabelle offered a shallow bow. “Forgive me. I allowed myself to be deceived, and I lost my composure. I meant no disrespect, to you or this sacred place.”

  Elias nodded gently. “We all make mistakes. Sometimes our minds... play cruel tricks on us.”

  She nodded. That sounded like a reference to the madness he’d shown ever since absorbing that broken sphere. Was he... aware of what was happening to him?

  She cleared her throat. “Actually, I didn’t come for myself. I came to help you.”

  The priest remained still.

  “Elias, I don’t think you realize what’s happening to Ebonshade.”

  “You think I’ve lost my mind, don’t you?” His rasping voice carried a trace of sadness.

  Isabelle shifted uncomfortably. “I didn’t mean—”

  He raised a skeletal hand. “No need to explain, Warden. I know what’s going on.” He looked at the overturned benches, the scattered candles. “Ebonshade is crumbling.” He lowered his head. “And it’s all my fault.”

  Isabelle gasped. “You... you know what’s happening to you?”

  The priest calmly studied his skeletal hand. “I’m dead, Warden. And this broken sphere… it won’t let me go. It eats away at me, even as it keeps me on my feet.”

  She frowned. How could he be this lucid and still be behind all the horrors she’d seen outside?

  Elias lowered his gaze. “You’re wondering, aren’t you? If I’m still myself... why did I raise most of Ebonshade as undead? Why do I keep causing pain?”

  She nodded.

  He placed a hand on the altar. “I only regain clarity in short bursts. And only here, inside Orbisar’s sacred walls. The Light of our god is the only thing that brings back a sliver of my humanity.”

  “Praise Orbisar,” Isabelle whispered, though her voice wavered. “But why didn’t you...” She faltered.

  Elias nodded. “You’re wondering why I didn’t take my own life while I was still aware.”

  She clenched her jaw and nodded again. Knowing what he’d done to the innocent people of the village… she wouldn’t have hesitated for a second.

  “I tried,” he said. “That’s how I became undead. I hanged myself from a ceiling beam in my own home.” His voice caught.

  She winced. “And then?”

  Elias lifted his staff. The sphere glowed sickly in the temple’s shadows.

  “The Life Sphere’s energy brought me back. I kept trying. Over and over. Different methods. But it won’t let me die.”

  He pointed toward a window with a skeletal finger. “I even tried abandoning the sphere deep in the jungle. But its power found me. Brought me back.”

  He looked up toward the temple ceiling. “Its energy flows through me now. I can’t be rid of it.”

  Isabelle gripped her sword’s hilt. “That’s impossible. It’s just an Iron-tier sphere. It shouldn’t hold that much power.”

  Elias let out a sigh like a dying man’s final breath. “I’ve asked myself the same. But there’s no explanation. Maybe this is my penance.”

  She stared at the skeletal figure, head bowed in quiet misery. His suffering was unbearable. But pity wouldn’t stop the destruction.

  Then she remembered the spy’s words:

  ‘If you want to save what’s left of Ebonshade, find the other two spheres!’

  If the heretic was right, there were two more spheres. One of them another Life Sphere, used by the cultists to revive their dead.

  She hated trusting that snake. But they were out of time.

  “Elias, did you ever deal with the death cultists before all this started?”

  He stood still, then slowly walked to a tall, narrow window. “Yes. I don’t know how you know that. But a few days before the sphere fell, something... unsettling happened here.”

  He paused. “Sometimes I wonder if this is divine punishment. Maybe I’m just Orbisar’s instrument.”

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  He nodded slowly. “I don’t know why you care, Warden. But I won’t keep it from you. I knew about the forbidden rituals. Once a year, they brought the dead back.”

  “I know.”

  “I knew too. Everyone did, but I couldn’t prove it. They used Orbisar’s sacred spheres for their blasphemy. They needed a Life Sphere—and a Death Sphere.” He trembled.

  He looked weaker now. Even the light from his staff was dimmer, as if the sphere’s power was draining.

  “I caught them, finally. A few weeks ago. In the act. I stormed in and seized both spheres.”

  “You confiscated them?”

  He nodded. “They had no right to use them. I was going to report them.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “I had to leave at once when the new sphere fell. I didn’t want it harming the village.”

  “What happened to the cultists’ spheres?”

  He walked slowly back to the altar. “I absorbed the cultists’ Life Sphere. I wanted to be sure no one could reclaim it while I was gone. A seer had confirmed I had the auric level needed, just enough to absorb a sphere safely.”

  She swallowed. Her throat felt like sandpaper. If he had the auric level needed, then why had his mind broken like that? “And the Death sphere?”

  “I stored it here. I meant to send it to the scholars in the Citadel when I got back, but never got the chance. Something about the fallen sphere corrupted me.”

  A sharp laugh echoed across the temple, bouncing off the walls.

  Isabelle spun around.

  A purple cloud descended from the rafters and took shape… Sierelith, laughing.

  Heat flared in Isabelle’s face. Her sword was in hand before she realized it. “You! How dare you show yourself again!”

  The mage raised her hands. “Oh, sorry. I couldn’t help but eavesdrop. Honestly, I haven’t had this much fun in ages.”

  “Save your lies,” Isabelle said. “I won’t waste time chasing a fake illusion.”

  “Yeah, yeah...” Sierelith waved her hand dismissively. “You said that already. We don’t have time for your empty threats, Warden. Listen.” She pointed at Elias. “If I heard right, the fool absorbed the cultists’ sphere on their sacred ground. That whole area is soaked in Life energy. It seeps into the people there. Great for farming, healing, and so on.”

  Isabelle growled. “You said you didn’t have time, then launch into a monologue?”

  “Patience. What I have to say actually matters. I’m getting there.” She flicked her fingers. “Elias was probably much closer to his auric limit than he thought. That land is soaked in Life energy, it seeps into everything, even people. When he absorbed the cultists’ sphere, he likely pushed himself right to the edge.”

  Isabelle’s eyes widened. “And when he approached the fallen sphere…”

  Sierelith grinned. “Boom. He blew past it.” She scoffed. “If your Church spent less time preaching and more time studying the other cults, this could’ve been avoided.”

  Isabelle’s knuckles whitened on her sword. She had to be careful around someone who lived by deception and illusion. “Shut your mouth, heretic. I won’t fall for your tricks again.”

  Sierelith opened her mouth to reply, but a low, guttural growl from the altar cut her off.

  Elias was on his knees, clutching his staff. The green light flared violently.

  Isabelle rushed over. “Elias! What’s happening?!”

  A second snarl, deeper, rougher. Like a gravestone dragged across stone.

  She stepped back, sword raised, heart pounding.

  Slowly, Elias rose to his feet. His dull eyes now blazed like green lanterns. His face twisted into a feral grin.

  Sierelith gasped, turned, and bolted.

  Before Isabelle could react, the heretic had already vanished through the temple doors.

  Then Elias spoke, his voice deep, booming, inhuman. “None of you are leaving. Prepare to join my holy flock!”

  Isabelle swallowed hard. What the hell did he mean, none of them? That damn spy had just walked out. Maybe the ex-priest really was mad. Drunk on power.

  As if answering her thought, Sierelith reappeared inside the temple. She stumbled through the green haze, rubbing her forehead, a fresh bruise already forming.

  “What are you doing back here?” Isabelle snapped. “Trying to pull another illusion?”

  “No,” the mage muttered, scowling. “Not by choice. There’s an energy barrier outside. No one’s getting out.”

  Isabelle’s mouth fell open. “So this time... you’re really here? This isn’t another trick?”

  Sierelith brushed off her coat with a grimace. “Surprise. Now we’re both stuck here. With that.”

  A sickly green fire burst around Elias, crawling up the cracked stone floor and licking the walls like something alive.

  Both women turned toward him, instinct overriding everything else.

  Isabelle stepped forward, blade ready, muscles coiled. Quietly, she whispered a prayer to Orbisar while channeling power through her chakras. Lightning danced along her limbs, rising from her legs, up her spine, and into her sword.

  “For Orbisar!” she roared.

  Sierelith moved beside her, eyes locked on Elias. “You’d better fight half as well as you preach, Warden.”

  “Shut it,” Isabelle hissed.

  And unleashed the power.

  A scream of lightning tore through the temple.

  Then everything went white.