The Lich's force fell into my trap. It was a team effort—I admit it. I even wanted to help Chapatrueno more; he certainly suffered at the hands of that undead king's puppet. But he had so much power it was terrifying—not to mention his determination, enough to do all this damage without worrying about his safety.
I arrived at some secondary tunnels far above the cavern's location, so I hurried. When I entered, I saw the magic lines, the control lines—my eyes detected them easily. I did not understand everything, but the basis was to turn that body into another for that power-sick elf's collection. But there it was—the main line. Unlike the rest, it was made of soul stones. I did not want to think how much life was extinguished to create such quantity. They shone intensely. From there, all orders originated. So I jumped and began changing some of its runes—nothing noticeable. But since I wanted it to fall into my trap, I needed Chapatrueno to help. So I shared some of my sight with him. Just in time, I saw the first blow—brutal. That enchantment—the Deathbringer's pact—how grateful I was that none of the elves had undergone a similar process. It was very powerful.
While I worked at full speed, I could see the curse consuming him. Those modifications he made to his armor, however ingenious, kept hurting him. They kept him standing, but in exchange, his blood fell or evaporated with the tremendous heat he emitted. His brain must be delirious, only thinking of vengeance. I did not pity him—I also had a mission with no bright future.
While I changed things, I felt—I could not say it had content; it was more like a request. Someone called me, tried to show me what they had done, how they were killed by two ambitious elves, how they kept a part of themselves alive—the torture prolonged for millennia at the hands of these elves. He said he was ready, that he already wanted to die. But he would leave his remaining power to Chapatrueno—a worthy warrior—or to me if I managed to hurt the Lich. He only asked that I also save his last egg, that it would not have enough magic to hatch, not even mature. But someday it could, and he would have a child. I had to shout at the dwarf not to destroy the brain—not yet. Carefully, I checked, and indeed, under one of its broken stumps, an egg no larger than me was vibrating with each blow. At that moment, my trap activated.
For the magic to reach the body, a receiver was needed—something that would store and use the received magic like a giant reservoir. But for it to work, that power must be filtered. I still remembered that nauseating sensation it generated. So this time, half my changes were to refine its power. The rest—well, let's say it had much power, but it did not think anyone outside itself could control it. But now it was a single channel—one that drained its power. It tried to reinforce its control over the dragon, perhaps to bury it with Chapatrueno. Now it could only be sucked dry. Its magic accumulated quickly. I mocked its ambition. My intention was to continue until it was dry—until it finally died.
I felt more than saw the movement. I jumped back as his hammer struck the control center. The gems kept stealing magic, but now they no longer stored it. So to prevent it from dispersing—I had no risk of it returning to the Lich, not at this distance and without its emitter—I spread my field and contained it. It was too much force. I fell to my knees, only in time to see my companion, my friend, coming with the fury of death in his eyes. He no longer recognized me. I hoped I could defend myself, but I doubted it—at least without killing him.
It was not necessary. When he was a few steps from me, someone grabbed him by the waist. It was Moon Reflection—I knew he had followed him. For now, he did not seem to mind burning his hands or body. He clung to him, asking him to recover his sanity—that not all his people had died, that there were people waiting for him. Finally, I saw him regain sense. At that moment, all the weight of the battle knocked him down. I did not want him to die. I knew where the dwarf king's palace was—it was in the primordial elves' plans. So I ordered the elf to save him, even at the cost of his life. I sent them off and stayed alone with the dragon.
He again offered me his power—enough to eliminate Morgana, the Lich, and the elves. He asked me to take care of those who had not harmed him, to hide his only child. When he died, to let him die in peace. Even though I was tempted, it would not be at the cost of a life. I told him to give his power, but not for something as stupid as death—to give it to me for life. He told me what to do. So I ran with the immense mass of pure magic at my back. With one movement, I drew my sword and, without ceremony, plunged it where he indicated. I only heard a sigh. I was already descending. There was no time to lose. I took the egg and transported myself to the highest part of the mountain. There, I began to receive its strength, its knowledge—everything entered in fits and starts into my defective human body. But from there, I carefully poured it into that egg. It began to change—from brown to green, then to blue. At that moment, I finished with the dragon's reserves but still had the Lich's. Little by little, it turned dark—clear at first, but slowly changing. When its color was mottled black, the shell suffered a fracture. An eye received the light of dusk. Its gaze was old. Yet I welcomed it to this world, before the effects of my actions made me regret having withdrawn that field from the continent.