When Leonor and Lodtrack finally arrived, everything lay in ruins; the blue sky could be seen through the debris. Leonor desperately searched for his father among the remains, while Lodtrack tried to make him see reason: his father had died, possibly taking his enemies with him.
Leonor knelt and burst into tears upon finding his father's charred crown, with no trace of him. He remained motionless for a few minutes, trying to process everything. Lodtrack combed the area, looking for the bodies of his comrades or any sign of them.
He spotted Vindicta in the distance; a shiver ran down his spine, and he tried to approach. However, upon hearing the metallic footsteps of soldiers, he grabbed Leonor and positioned himself behind a large stone, allowing them to observe without being noticed.
Dozens of enemy soldiers arrived through the corridors (or what was left of them), wizards, healers, and warriors of all kinds and races, but not a single ally. Everyone had perished in battle, leaving only Lodtrack. The enemies cleared the rubble, much like the duo had done before. One of the soldiers tried to grab Vindicta from among the debris, but she was embedded and didn't seem to budge. Several soldiers pulled in the hope of claiming the artifact; they were petrified when the ground trembled, and from it rose a mass of charred and deformed black flesh with bright red eyes that Lodtrack knew well.
In its arms, it held the lifeless body of the old Alwarmu. Little remained of what had once been the warlock, as most of his body had disintegrated in the explosion. The soldiers shifted uncomfortably and continued searching through the debris, with the misfortune of being killed by several explosions that erupted from the ground.
Veronica struggled to get up; her legs trembled desperately, and her hair was singed, but she seemed perfectly fine after receiving an explosion of such magnitude. Some Bucullatus also emerged from the ground, and more than half of them had died.
The witch seemed to scream and command her soldiers. Lodtrack couldn't hear, and Leonor sat on the ground crying. They seemed to be looking for something. Veronica approached the demon and her master's body, and Lodtrack would swear she smiled upon seeing the corpse. The witch took the spear and began healing her demon.
The Bucullatus and the soldiers searched desperately, fearing what would happen to them if they didn't succeed in time. A soldier raised his hand and shouted for them to approach; he looked like a dwarf, although it was hard to tell with the armor. The Bucullatus, Veronica, and the demon, who looked better now, approached.
Among the rubble, Draco's destroyed body could be seen. His head was gone, but his armor was intact and easily recognizable. Lodtrack stifled a scream and almost lunged at them as he saw them starting to take things from his master, but this time, it was Leonor who calmed him down and indicated that they should leave. Lodtrack obeyed.
Veronica felt extremely weak, despite having already drunk several cámelio containers. She had spent almost all her mana reinforcing the shield, and still, the explosion had managed to affect her slightly.
She cursed constantly; bad luck for anyone who stood in her way, as she was determined to turn them into a rat, at least until she saw Grigori arriving almost crawling, with a hemorrhage in his abdomen and missing one of his arms.
"A broken toy," she said boredly, "it's useless."
"No, please, give me another chance," the elf begged desperately, lowering his head and prostrating himself on the ground.
"At least tell me what happened to you," she ordered; the elf told her what had happened with the guard and the noble "it means they managed to escape, idiot!"
Veronica was about to pulverize the trembling elf on the ground. Fortunately, a soldier called her and pulled Silo out from between some rocks, unconscious next to a strange orb.
The witch seemed to calm down upon seeing another of her 'toys' alive with her precious artifact. She looked again at Grigori, thinking about what to do with him. What good was a one-armed archer to her? But he was also her best hunter and assassin; besides, if she let those two escapes, her entire plan would be ruined.
"I'll spare you," decided the witch. The elf's eyes sparkled "but you'll have to do something to earn it."
Veronica opened her bag and took out a couple of things: the disjointed leg of some large bird, salts, threads, and a needle.
"Endona aftá enkos antikíe, kai qe anikatasi ta chatoi," she recited softly. The animal's leg levitated to rest on the elf's laceration, salt scattered over his wounds, causing him to howl in pain. The thread and needle also levitated and began to sew the abdominal wound until it closed; the skin began to unite until there was no trace of the cut. The needle also sewed the animal's leg to the elf's arm; both began to merge, the leg changed slightly to have a more human shape, although only with 4 fingers and feathers protruding.
Grigori lowered his head, grateful, and looked at his mistress with admiration. He knew what he had to do. He was about to leave when he was stopped by a mysterious voice.
"One moment, folks," it was a deep voice that caught Veronica and Grigori's attention. In front of them, the orb was levitating, and shadows around it showed the silhouette of a man.
"Lord..." Veronica knelt and lowered her head, leaving all her followers stunned, who imitated her example. "It's a pleasure to see you again," her voice was not entirely sincere, but the entity seemed not to mind.
"How good it feels to be back on the earthly plane," he breathed deeply. "You look good, my dear. I like the fiery style," he laughed, finding it amusing while no one else did. Veronica raised her head and forced a smile.
"It's strange for you to speak to me directly; what do I owe the honor?" the witch asked, trying to sound sweet.
'He' smiled. "Well, young lady, I was watching your battle, and I have to say I haven't had this much fun in centuries. What a great spectacle!" The entity laughed; Veronica raised an eyebrow.
"That doesn't answer the question. You wouldn't spend your power to come to this plane just to tell us that you had fun."
"How boring, dear," 'he' grabbed her chin and lifted her gaze, "but you're right about that. I heard your order, and I'm afraid I must discredit it." Veronica glared at him. "How scary, that apprentice was right; those faces don't suit you."
"Could you stop beating around the bush and speak to me clearly?" the witch began to lose patience, and her men were impressed that she allowed herself to be teased in such a way. The entity let out a cheerful laugh.
"I cannot let you kill the noble," the entity, despite lacking a face, conveyed seriousness in its tone.
"But why?"
"Let's leave it as a surprise. Don't worry, if all goes well, I'll assist you in your siege on the capital, even if they manage to arrive," Veronica gritted her teeth and looked at the entity with irritation. "Don't make faces, dear, after all, I am the one in charge. Hey, you..." pointing at Grigori, "you're the one who will pursue them, right? Come forward."
Grigori obeyed and stood in front of the shadow. "Y-yes, sir," Grigori bowed and nervously asked, "Who are you?" The shadow fixed its gaze on him.
"Interesting, how impertinent," Veronica looked at him with disdain. "I won't kill your pet, dear... I have many names, but I think in this world, they call me 'Qui Mortem.'" Everyone in the place shuddered upon hearing the name. "What's your name?"
"Grigori Vali..."
"Very well, Gregorio. I have a mission for you..." The elf tried to hide his annoyance at having his name mispronounced but remained silent, fearing the consequences. Qui Mortem extended his hand, and shadows swirled around it, forming the shape of a vial, which he handed to the elf. "It's a special liquid, containing part of my essence. Your main task will be to shoot the arrow at the noble, without killing him, of course." Grigori nodded, thinking of the guard he had faced.
"And what about his escort?"
"The young warrior... I don't care; you can kill him if you want, although I suggest you be cautious. If Draco and his apprentice could use divine techniques, it means that against all we believed, there is still at least one god alive. That's why they'll need my help." Qui Mortem said the last sentence with a severe and almost repulsive tone.
Veronica lowered her head, annoyed by the revelation. Grigori nodded and stored the vial.
"I suppose your visit ends here," deduced the witch.
"Unfortunately, I must conserve my power, but it's always a pleasure to talk to you," responded Qui Mortem cheerfully.
"Same here," she said, forcing a friendly tone, wishing he would leave already. Qui Mortem smiled, somehow, even without a face, they knew he was smiling, and said:
"By the way, your beloved sends her regards." Veronica glared at him, and the entity disappeared. She looked at Grigori.
"Take a group of assassins and one of the Bucullatus; you have your orders. Don't fail, or I'll use you as a centerpiece," the witch ordered, and Grigori nodded.
"All right, my men, we have nothing more to do here. Grab anything useful, and we'll continue our advance at dusk!" he ordered, and his men responded with a unanimous acceptance shout.
Lodtrack and Leonor moved heavily through the chimney passage; they had made sure to bring down the entrance to prevent anyone from following them.
"How far does this tunnel go?" Leonor asked with a hoarse voice from his crying.
"Far from the city, close to Mitropolis; there, we'll be safe."
"And if they follow us?"
"I doubt it," Leonor raised an eyebrow skeptically. "They didn't want anyone to escape or survive; it's clear they don't want an alarm raised about what happened. That means they'll go straight to the capital without stopping to fight anywhere else. The only possible path was guarded by Gramorg; now they have a clear path."
"So, we're lost," Leonor said pessimistically, caressing the rock walls of the tunnel. "It's impossible for us to arrive on time."
"No, there's still hope."
"What hope? They must be on their way already."
"They are an army, which moves very slowly; you and I are just two, and the way to the capital is immensely longer than going through the cities," he said, trying to convince himself. "It will take them at least two months to arrive; we can get there in one."
They continued through the tunnel until they were finally outside. The nighttime darkness covered everything except for a house with the lights on; on the facade, the Dragonoid clan logo could be seen.
Lodtrack knocked on the door and was greeted by a family who used to serve the nobles but now only took care of that farm. They explained the situation, left perplexed by the events. Truly, not even Lodtrack fully believed it yet. They asked for asylum and food, which was not a problem, but it wasn't the same when they asked for provisions and two horses.
"There's no problem with the horses; they belong to the Dragonoid house," nervously said the farmer, a tall and robust man with a large scar across his face. "However, it would be impossible for us to provide you with provisions. We don't have enough food for ourselves; you'll have to manage in Mitropolis."
Lodtrack was disappointed with the response but accepted it politely. They would still depart tomorrow and try to arrive in time to warn the empire. Veronica wouldn't stop for anything, and they had the premonition that the demon wouldn't be the only, nor the biggest, of their problems.
There was an extra room with a bunk bed, so they wouldn't have to worry about sleep that night, unaware that it would be the last time they would sleep peacefully for a long time.