The journey was fast. It had to be to catch up with that group of idiots who had taken my beloved. To follow them, one of the wolf lords tracked the fearful figures in the keep. I thought no one told them that sweat could also be a scent to follow. Despite Chapatrueno's insistence on accompanying me, I asked him to stay with the elves. It was more important to keep them alive if this event occurred... If I failed to stop it, I feared allies would be essential.
We covered the ground at great speed. No magic was worth anything here. My aura had recovered from the battle, but I could only move within its confines—something I always regretted. The education I received was not to make me a good warrior, only a good defender.
The elves' magic allowed me to advance across these prairies using my magic as reinforcement—not to avoid running, but to make my joints resist. The dwarves, on the other hand, focused on physical training—muscle to move fists once magic no longer determined the victor. Both were useful before, and more so now. The wolf no longer seemed surprised by the speed. Yet without the spells prepared, I had to advance with my gaze focused, my mouth murmuring the runes, feeling a small portion of my strength recover while my magical field weakened—very little; one of the first things the dwarves taught me was not to waste magic. I ran, but I knew what I would find.
Once I managed to extract all the information from Lilith—who for some reason felt she had failed me—I learned that those idiot elves were not responsible for the escape. It was more reasonable to believe she had decided to escape. My beloved had little attachment to me in the past. I suspected her current state would likely attack me before asking who I was. She also remained in the keep. She said she needed to check some things. I hoped the nagas would bring her the soul stone pieces. Even though I had not left the place open, they had committed to entering and retrieving those pieces. When I left the cavern, the males had been born, and they showed accelerated growth—I imagined from the abundant food available. I hoped they fertilized the eggs. From their reproduction system, they seemed more like a kind of immortal, but they needed to repopulate, at least to the genetic limit of their population.
The road was about twenty kilometers around the mountains where I found the truth behind the supposed magic that would return the elves' power. So far, so good. The wolf knew that the only way to prevent this was to eliminate every single one transporting my beloved. His clan was not stupid. They abandoned the prairies upon seeing the risk mercenaries represented in their hunting lands. For now, they took refuge in the Dark Forest and went out at night to hunt. The warriors they caught were normally sentinels or low-ranking military. They did not seek to unleash hatred against their species, but if they eliminated all their game for trophies and ingredients, it was expected they would have to obtain food elsewhere. I only convinced them not to attack peasants or anyone who could not defend themselves. They seemed fine with that; from what I understood, they liked challenges.
We arrived where we needed to be. The first thing that filled my senses was death. Where there had been a cliff wall, I could see a huge dwarven mine entrance. Dwarves, contrary to cultural beliefs, lived in labyrinthine cities—very well planned, all gigantic in construction. But nothing like this. It gave the impression of being a king's refuge. Then I realized: the fortress behind was for the wretched—bait for whoever sought to attack. This place, in contrast, was well protected and meant for kings and great ones to have a place. If only there was less death at its entrance, it would be something interesting to visit.
The wolf growled. There was a very great threat, but he did not know where it was located—only its level from his fur and flattened ears. I thought the dead city was more dangerous than it appeared. After much sniffing around the entrance, he indicated with a frustrated whine that the coffin was not there—it was traveling, but he could not pinpoint where. What bothered him was not that, but that they were traveling at a speed far exceeding ours... That was not good.
The only way to know where they were headed: the most likely places were the elven castle—with a history of cruelty and slavery—or the Relic Sanctuary, a sacred place where elves performed ceremonies giving thanks to whoever they had to for the destruction of some city that opposed them. Both destinations containing enough power to eliminate a couple of cities in less than a day. The armory was sealed, and the mystical creature breeding grounds were magical, but not within the magic others could employ. Only one alternative remained. Doing this was stupid. Everyone would realize someone was competing in power with them, and no one was willing to admit someone strong existed—even superior to them. But if I did not, I would not know where to go.
I began with my power—light, faint—a sphere growing outward. With new waves, I could make it grow continuously. It was not my aura proper; better defined as the area where it could influence. It was a magic sensor. But as I detected, I was detected. I pushed it until I felt the nagas' presence. Yet I could go further than that, could I not? That was the reason I did not show it to the elves. Had I done so, I would never have left that isle. I would probably have been employed for the rest of my life to recharge all their soul stones so they never lacked magic. The dwarves showed me how to reinforce it—like a tunnel. Magic did not need magic in all directions. Build! Reinforce! The weak part was for detection. The strong part would give you support so the magic did not decay. Do it like a sphere, like a shield. I reached the forest. There I saw Lilith—an enormous mass of raw, still quite uncontrollable magic. A black blot of Chapatrueno—the dwarf full of vengeance, but thanks to that, he could use his magic freely. I doubted there was a greater reward for him than facing all those who were and are unjust to defenseless people. The class and species struggle needed a champion. I hoped he could be that.
After a few minutes, my magic began to suffer. But it had to be a unidirectional probe. Even though I could believe I knew where it was going, it was stupid to take risks. Finally, I could feel the coastal cities. Their fields seemed so stable—not like the botched thing I had constructed to keep her from fleeing. But something I felt—finally, I felt a faint capture. It was like putrefaction. It had the magical equivalent of the scent from the mage's chamber. It traveled toward the sanctuary. I would have to go there at current speed. I could not afford to spend more magic for now. If I did, I would only arrive to be killed by what awaited me.
I was about to thank my tracker when six fields hardened their capacity. It seemed that not only in Stormhammer and Bloody Coin did they know I was around. Two powerful mages and the rest weak—but they had been in the path of my field and discovered they were not the biggest fish in the pond. Those were problems for their egos. They would have to face them as adults. I had to go to death, to contain its passage and prevent it from spilling across the continent.