The Lich Without a Soul Vessel

Against the barrage of twenty or thirty mages firing from range, the wind dragon had no way to strike back at all. On its own, it far outclassed any single one of the mages attacking it — but under that relentless, unbroken assault, it never found an opening. What Evan's group had just shown left the other two parties genuinely shaken. His people didn't attack in chaotic bursts — one cast while ready, another struck, a third rested. Evan had drawn the idea straight from three-rank musket volleys, a proper military tactic — even armies rarely fielded thirty-odd mages firing at once. Each individual spell was weak, nothing more than basic fireballs and wind blades, but strung together in sequence, they built into an unbroken, punishing rhythm.

Viscount Modi had seen real military engagements before, but never a battle with this many mages at once. On any real battlefield, ten mages already counted as a large-scale operation — magic served plenty of purposes beyond combat, and he'd never imagined mages could produce this kind of overwhelming dominance outside of legend, the sort of thing reserved for tales of true magical wars.

His own party had mages too, some stronger individually than Evan's own people, capable of far more powerful single spells — and yet none of it produced the same effect, because none of it strung together into continuous pressure.

Something seemed to dawn on Modi as the wind dragon finally gave out, shattering into rubble with a crash. Only then did everyone realize it had never been a true creature at all — just a statue.

With the dragon dealt with, the group started forward again, only for another roar to sound. This time they could see it clearly — a bear-man statue lurching to life, charging at the group. But they had the measure of it now, and the unbroken barrage came down again. The bear-man roared, barely managing to block a few strikes without ever landing one of its own, before it too crumbled into rubble.

Deeper in the hall stood a wooden idol that drew no one's attention at all. Everyone's eyes went straight to the altar table, piled with jewels and precious metal — rubies, sapphires, emeralds, gleaming in every color, gold and silver vessels stacked high across the table. Evan estimated the whole hoard at somewhere around two or three million gold worth.

All three parties fixed their eyes on the pile, none willing to give an inch, their breathing turning heavy. Evan's side came back to their senses first — the four teachers were Hollingburton people, after all, and magical research back home was its own kind of money-devouring machine, which made them the quickest to remember what mattered here.

Evan cleared his throat. Not that he had no wish to claim the whole hoard himself — but the other two parties, as far as Evan had observed, functioned essentially as one group already. They might squabble over the spoils among themselves, but faced with Evan's side, they'd inevitably band together, and with a standing grudge against Evan's group besides, any real fight would leave Evan's people bloodied even in victory — hardly the outcome he wanted. Better to set the grudge aside for now.

His cough snapped the others out of their trance. Modi gave a rueful smile. "Let's split it three ways evenly, one share to each group."

He'd started to suggest dividing by headcount instead, but seeing that Evan's group had by far the most people, he caught himself — that split would have favored the Gonuo Society disproportionately. Never mind. They were allies of a sort, for now. Not that he hadn't considered wiping Evan's group out entirely — but Evan had never once given him the opening. Had the distance been shorter, given the strength Evan's group had just displayed, closing in on them would have cost his own side at least a third of their number before they even landed a blow. But Evan's people had kept a careful distance from the other two groups the entire time.

Evan nodded. He'd already gained plenty from this — no need to push things to an ugly confrontation with them now. He signaled one of the students forward, and each party sent a representative to sort and divide the hoard into three even portions, stored away in rings. Once done, all three parties withdrew to their own groups, each casting a last careful glance around the now-empty hall before finally leaving it behind.

Viscount Modi offered a graceful bow. "A genuine pleasure meeting you, noble mages. I hope we might work together again someday. Your fighting strength has left quite an impression on me. Farewell."

Evan returned a mage's bow of his own. "Honored Viscount, your shrewdness has left a real impression on me as well. Speaking for myself, I'd welcome the chance to work with you again. Good fortune to you."

The other party received no such courtesy. Both sides simply eyed each other in silence. Professor Damire gave a short grunt and turned his head away; their leader answered with a grunt of his own. His side had suffered losses far worse than Evan's — not from any direct clash between the two of them, but because Evan's group had maneuvered them into fighting the beastmen instead. Without a backward glance, they simply headed down the mountain.

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Watching them go, Damire said, "It doesn't sit right, letting them just walk away like that."

"It doesn't sit right with me either," Evan said. "But they're clearly Gonuo Society. Now that we know who they are, Hollingburton won't let this go."

Jessica asked, puzzled, "How do you know they're Gonuo Society?"

"They never once said what organization they belonged to, and yet they pretended not to recognize the confirmed Gonuo member in that other party — while still coordinating with them perfectly through the fighting. Viscount Modi, working alongside them, never matched that same fluency, which tells you they're the same organization underneath. And beyond that — the curved blades they carry. Very few organizations across Tyrenese use that weapon," Evan said, without mentioning his own history with the Gonuo Society.

"Why pretend not to know each other, then?" Jessica pressed.

"Simple enough to explain," said Damire, not Evan. "They wanted one group visible, one hidden — better positioned to deal with us that way."

"Exactly the idea," Evan said, nodding along with Damire's read on it.

"So that's it. No wonder you wanted us to hold back our strength. What do we do now?" Emma asked.

"What else? Keep to the same approach, and get out of this half-plane as fast as we can. They likely won't try anything more while we're still inside — but once we're out, that's another matter entirely. If they've got reinforcements waiting, they could easily crush us with superior numbers. So the moment we clear this place, we need to move fast, before they get another chance," Evan said, gazing off into the distance.

The group tensed at that. They'd assumed clearing the half-plane meant safety. Hearing this from Evan, they understood now that the real danger was only just beginning once they stepped outside.

"Then shouldn't we hurry?" Emma said.

"No need to panic. The more a situation touches on life and death, the calmer you need to stay. Only by setting life and death aside entirely can you see a problem clearly enough to find the best path through it. We can't outrun them to the exit and still hold ourselves combat-ready at the same time — that's simply not possible. Given that, let's settle how to divide what we've gained today instead. All told, it comes to about a million gold. We'll split it evenly among everyone, including a share set aside for the students we lost, to pass on to their families. Sound fair?" Evan said, smiling as he looked around at the group. No one objected, though they hadn't quite understood why he'd chosen this particular moment to bring it up.

Evan had his reasons for raising the matter now — specifically, setting aside a share for the fallen students served a purpose. It settled everyone's minds. If they met more danger ahead, they'd know that even in death, their share would still reach their families, freeing them to fight without hesitation and follow orders without second-guessing.

With the split settled, they made their way down the mountain, still moving in rotating formation as before, no single group holding the lead position the whole way. Partway down, Jessica glanced back toward the direction of the beastman camp from the night before. "What is it? Something on your mind?" Evan asked.

"I was thinking about how unusual those beastmen were — nothing like them exists outside this place. Could it be a new species, or a mutated one? I'd love to study it properly," Jessica said.

"No time for that now. Their existence seemed tied specifically to worshipping the goddess of life — or rather, perhaps it wasn't the goddess of life at all, but the Blasphemous Witch Iniede's doing instead. Whatever the truth of it, it'll have to wait," Evan said. Jessica had grown more and more like a genuine biologist over these past weeks, fascinated by every trace of life she encountered.

"Just a passing thought. I know what matters more right now. Let's keep moving," Jessica said, though a trace of real regret lingered on her face.

The road back gave them no trouble — familiar ground now, and they made camp each night with real care, Professor Damire especially, checking the protective arrays over and over without fail.

They reached the exit a full day ahead of what anyone had expected. Tension rose through the group. An ancient tree lay fallen across the doorway, charred black. Evan examined it, tested its temperature, and said with a small smile, "Less than half a day since something passed through here — some other party cleared the obstacle for us not too long ago. Stay alert, everyone."

A Wraith Eye rose above his head, fading gradually from view. The others understood he was scouting ahead by magic. Evan closed his eyes and stood perfectly still for a while before opening them again. "No one at the exit. Still, don't get careless. Let's move out quickly."

The group hurried through the exit of the half-plane. Light spilled from the doorway atop the small rise, and one by one, everyone emerged, glancing warily around at a silence that held nothing but stillness. Once everyone had come through, Evan waved a hand and turned to Damire. "You know this ground. Lead us out — as fast as we can manage."

Damire nodded, and the group shifted formation once more, vanishing quickly into the sea of trees.

What Evan didn't know was that the two allied parties, once reunited, had reached the exit ahead of them, and Corey had begun turning over a new plan — an ambush waiting right at the doorway. But even the best-laid plans meet their match. The moment they emerged from the half-plane, they discovered two of their five remaining knights already dead — Amos, it turned out, had led the beastmen in a night raid, freeing their captured kin and killing two knights in the process, though losing three of their own in the exchange.

The moment the survivors emerged and the three remaining knights recounted what had happened, Viscount Modi lost all patience for waiting. He wanted his slaves recovered immediately, and refused to take part in any ambush against Evan's group. In truth, he'd never much believed in the plan to begin with, and used the incident as cover to pull his men away entirely. With that, Corey found his own remaining strength too thin to move against Evan alone — an ambush was out of the question now. He gave up on the idea entirely and withdrew, sending word back to headquarters instead.