Sub-Chapter 5.1: The Land of No Man
After leaving the lush paths of the Dryads Forest, Lucifell and Azazel continued their journey eastward. The snowstorm that had followed them through the Zorel Mountains slowly faded behind their backs.
The world changed.
The cold winds disappeared.
And the land ahead became something entirely different.
The grass slowly vanished beneath the hooves of their horses.
The green earth turned into cracked dirt.
The trees ended.
Then there was nothing.
Only open land stretching endlessly to the horizon.
A land of no man.
The sun burned fiercely above them, its heat reflecting from the dry ground. It was hard to believe that only hours earlier they had ridden through falling snow.
Azazel wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Strange place," he muttered.
Lucifell said nothing.
His eyes through his visor mask simply scanned the horizon.
One hour more.
One hour until the Dark Elven Forest.
But something unexpected appeared in the distance.
A building.
A lone structure standing in the middle of the empty land.
A tavern.
Wooden pillars held a wide roof that provided shade from the brutal sun.
A worn sign swung slowly in the wind.
Milandur's Tavern.
A place known among travelers, mercenaries, smugglers, and criminals who crossed the forgotten routes between kingdoms.
Lucifell slowed his horse.
Azazel raised an eyebrow.
"You want to stop?"
Lucifell's gaze shifted toward the roof of the tavern.
A griffin rested there beneath the shade.
Its armored saddle carried a familiar banner.
The sigil of Mournvale Kingdom.
And beside it…
The symbol of Arcana.
Azazel noticed it too.
"That griffin… isn't that from the Oracle Squadron?"
Lucifell dismounted.
"Yes."
His voice remained calm.
"That means someone from Mournvale is here."
Inside the tavern, the air was cooler.
The scent of roasted meat and desert spices filled the room.
Several travelers sat around wooden tables—mercenaries, traders, and figures whose faces were better left unknown.
Behind the counter stood a strange host.
A fox.
But not an ordinary fox.
He walked upright like a man.
Orange and white fur.
Grey goggles resting over his eyes.
A black hat tilted slightly to one side.
Black boots tapping lightly against the wooden floor.
This was Milandur the Fox.
Owner of the tavern.
Leader of a small desert fox clan that operated the place.
And a man who knew far too many secrets.
But Lucifell's attention was drawn elsewhere.
At a nearby table sat a woman wearing the uniform of the Oracle Squadron.
She stood immediately when she saw him.
Her posture straightened.
Her hand moved respectfully to her chest.
"Commander Lucifell."
Her voice carried both discipline and relief.
Azazel recognized her.
"Vice Captain of Oracle squadron… Vionna Leracrux."
Vionna smiled politely.
Her personality carried the calm professionalism of a battlefield scanner and the sincerity of someone who respected authority.
"I was hoping it really was you."
She gestured toward the seats.
"Please. Sit."
She signaled for drinks.
"I'll cover this round."
Azazel chuckled softly.
"Not many people offer drinks to the Nightbringer."
Vionna's smile remained calm.
"I suppose I'm not many people."
Then she reached into her coat and carefully removed a sealed envelope.
The wax bore the royal sigil of Mournvale Kingdom.
She placed it on the table before Lucifell.
"This was meant for you."
Lucifell picked up the envelope.
Vionna explained.
"Captain Donnie was ordered by the Queen to deliver this personally. But he received an urgent royal assignment before he could leave the capital."
She bowed her head slightly.
"He asked me to deliver it in his place."
Lucifell broke the seal.
Inside was a message from Shenly Quirsa Voyage, Queen of Mournvale.
An invitation.
She wished to meet Lucifell again after his current mission was complete.
But as usual…
The letter contained no location.
No time.
Only a royal seal.
Azazel leaned back in his chair.
"The queen seems… persistent."
Lucifell folded the letter calmly.
"This isn't the first time."
Vionna stood.
"I should return to my squadron."
She saluted both of them.
"May your mission succeed."
And with that, she left the tavern.
Only moments later,
Milandur himself approached their table.
The fox removed his hat politely.
"Well now…"
His voice carried a playful charm.
"This is a rare day."
He leaned slightly closer.
"The Nightbringer himself visiting my humble establishment."
Then his golden eyes shifted toward Azazel.
"And this must be the famous Human-Elf half-blood Captain of the Eclipse Guard."
Azazel smirked.
"Word travels fast."
Milandur placed his paws on the table.
"Not fast."
He smiled slyly.
"Just… well connected."
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"And if the Nightbringer is crossing the Land of No Man…"
His voice dropped slightly.
"…then you must be heading for the Dark Elven Forest."
Lucifell did not deny it.
Milandur sighed.
"Well… then I suppose I should offer a small piece of advice."
His voice became quieter.
"Lavik's territory isn't a place where travelers walk freely."
"There's a gatekeeper."
"A minotaur named Gribs."
"He asks every visitor one simple question."
Milandur smirked.
"Purpose."
Azazel folded his arms.
"And the correct answer?"
Milandur raised one finger.
"Ten gold coins of Dullant."
Then he leaned even closer.
"But if your purpose is to see Lavik the Cutterbones himself…"
He smiled.
"…then the price becomes fifty."
Lucifell placed a small pouch of gold coins on the table.
The metallic sound echoed softly.
Milandur's ears twitched.
"Well…"
He chuckled.
"It seems you came prepared."
Sub-Chapter 5.2: The Dark Elven Forest
One hour later.
Lucifell and Azazel reached the edge of the forest.
Once, this place had been known as TheGolden Leafs Elven Forest. A sacred home of majestic elves.
Now…
It looked like a different world.
The trees were twisted and thick.
The forest had become a dense rainforest where vines and bushes swallowed the ancient paths.
Even sunlight struggled to penetrate the canopy above.
The air smelled damp.
And wrong.
Standing at the entrance was a massive figure.
A Minotaur.
Towering at nearly 350 centimeters tall.
His muscles were enormous.
In his hands rested a giant axe.
His name was Gribs.
He stared down at the two riders.
Then he spoke one word.
"Purpose."
Lucifell dismounted slowly.
He placed fifty gold Dullant coins into the minotaur's massive hand.
Gribs weighed them silently.
Then he nodded.
Without another word…
He turned and began walking deeper into the forest.
Lucifell and Azazel followed.
After several minutes, the trees opened into a clearing.
And there it stood.
A dark temple built from black stone and bone.
The Cutterbones Sanctuary.
Inside the shadows of the temple entrance…
A tall figure watched them.
Grey skin covered in snake-like scales.
Glowing orange eyes burning in the dark.
Two sickles resting in his hands.
Lavik the Cutterbones.
He stepped forward slowly.
A grin spreading across his monstrous face.
His eyes moved first to Lucifell.
Then to Azazel.
The grin widened.
"Well…"
His voice was soft and dangerous.
"The legend himself."
But his expression suddenly hardened.
He pointed one sickle toward Azazel.
"That one…"
His voice turned cold.
"…does not enter my temple."
His glowing eyes narrowed.
"Elf blood should not be diluted with human weakness."
Then his gaze returned to Lucifell.
"Now then, Nightbringer…"
Lavik smiled wider.
"To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"
Lucifell's voice remained calm.
"Information."
For the first time…
Lavik's smile faded.
Inside the Cutterbones Sanctuary, the air felt damp and cold.
The temple walls were carved from black stone and bone, decorated with strange markings that seemed older than the forest itself.
Torches burned with a green flame.
Outside the temple entrance, Azazel remained standing beside Gribs.
Lavik had made it clear.
Only Lucifell would enter.
Inside the sanctuary, the tall cursed elf slowly walked in a circle around his guest.
His twin sickles scraped softly against the stone floor as he moved.
His glowing orange eyes studied Lucifell like a scientist observing a rare specimen.
Then he chuckled.
"So…"
Lavik tilted his head slightly.
"I thought the Nightbringer himself had come to arrest me for my crimes."
Lucifell stood motionless in the center of the chamber.
His voice was calm.
"It's still rumors."
Lavik raised an eyebrow.
Lucifell continued.
"And I walk in proof, not rumors."
For a moment…
The cursed elf simply stared.
Then Lavik burst into laughter.
A long, amused laugh that echoed through the dark temple.
"Ahhh…"
He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
"Still the same as always."
Lavik leaned closer.
"Tell me something, Nightbringer."
His grin slowly returned.
"Do you personally believe the stories about me?"
Lucifell did not answer immediately.
Lavik continued speaking.
"They say I torture young girls."
"They say I eat them."
"They say I sell the rest in black markets."
His glowing eyes narrowed with curiosity.
"So tell me…"
"Do you believe it?"
Lucifell's gaze did not change.
"What I believe doesn't matter."
Lavik tilted his head again.
"Oh?"
Lucifell spoke slowly.
"The law doesn't pursue rumors."
"It pursues proof."
Lavik's smile faded slightly.
Lucifell continued.
"One of the Testaments of God says so."
"Law cannot be built upon gossip or rumor.
Judgment requires evidence and proof."
The words were part of the sacred doctrine written by the scholars of Ventine.
The central authority behind every major church across the legal kingdoms.
Lavik let out a quiet whistle.
"Well… well…"
He walked toward the throne-like seat at the center of the temple and sat down casually.
"I didn't expect the Nightbringer to quote scripture to me."
Lucifell replied calmly.
"You asked."
Lavik tapped one sickle against the armrest of his throne.
"Interesting."
His orange eyes studied Lucifell again.
"So…"
"Someone spread those rumors about me."
Lavik leaned forward slightly.
"But you never bothered to confirm them."
Lucifell answered.
"Rumors don't interest me."
Lavik smirked again.
"Even when the rumors are about a monster?"
Lucifell's expression did not change.
"I'm not here for your past."
Lavik's smile slowly disappeared.
Silence filled the temple.
Then Lucifell finally spoke.
"I'm here because the Underworld Kingdom has begun its march."
For the first time…
Lavik's eyes widened slightly.
The room grew quiet.
Even the green flames seemed to flicker more slowly.
Lavik leaned back into his throne.
His sickles stopped moving.
"So…"
His voice became softer.
"The war is finally coming."
Lavik stared at Lucifell with deep curiosity.
"And you came to tell me."
A slow grin returned to his face.
"Well now…"
"That makes this visit far more interesting."
Lavik leaned forward again.
"Tell me something, Nightbringer."
His orange eyes burned in the dark.
"Did you come here to warn me…"
"…or to recruit me?"
Lavik leaned forward on his throne of dark stone.
The green flames around the temple flickered slowly, casting long shadows across the cursed elf's scaled body.
His glowing eyes stared directly into Lucifell's.
Silence filled the Cutterbones Sanctuary.
Lucifell did not answer immediately.
Instead, he slowly walked across the temple floor, his boots echoing softly against the stone.
Lavik watched him carefully.
Studying him.
Measuring every movement.
Finally, Lucifell stopped a few steps away from the throne.
"I came to inform you."
Lavik's eyebrow lifted.
"Informed criminals?"
He chuckled quietly.
"That's a new one."
Lucifell ignored the sarcasm.
"The Underworld Kingdom has begun mobilizing its armies."
Lavik tapped one sickle slowly against the armrest of his throne.
Clink.
Clink.
Clink.
"That doesn't concern me."
Lucifell's eyes shifted slightly toward him.
"If they reach the surface kingdoms…"
His voice remained calm.
"…this forest will not remain untouched."
Lavik's smile slowly faded.
Lucifell continued.
"The Underworld army does not negotiate."
"They do not trade."
"They do not occupy."
Lavik leaned forward slightly.
"So what do they do?"
Lucifell answered simply.
"They consume."
The green flames flickered again.
For a moment, the temple felt colder.
Lavik stared at Lucifell in silence.
Then he began to laugh again.
Not loudly.
But slowly.
"Of course they do."
He stood from his throne and began walking around the chamber.
His cloak moved like a shadow behind him.
"Demons devouring the world…"
He spun one sickle in his hand lazily.
"How poetic."
Then Lavik suddenly stopped.
His glowing eyes turned serious again.
"But tell me something, Nightbringer."
His voice lowered.
"Why should I care?"
He pointed one sickle toward the temple entrance.
"This forest is already cursed."
"My people are already rejected."
"The surface kingdoms already call us monsters."
He stepped closer to Lucifell.
"If the Underworld comes…"
His smile returned.
"…perhaps we'll get along just fine."
Outside the temple entrance, Azazel shifted slightly.
He could hear pieces of the conversation echoing through the stone hall.
Lucifell remained completely calm.
"You're wrong."
Lavik's grin widened.
"Oh?"
Lucifell's voice was steady.
"The Underworld doesn't make allies."
"They erase obstacles."
Lavik tilted his head.
"And what exactly am I?"
Lucifell answered without hesitation.
"An obstacle."
For a brief moment…
Lavik's smile disappeared.
Then he chuckled again.
"You really haven't changed."
He turned his back to Lucifell and walked toward one of the temple pillars.
"I remember the stories about you."
"The Archangel who freed an enemy."
"The exile of Heaven."
"The Nightbringer."
He glanced back over his shoulder.
"You and I are not so different, Lucifell."
Lucifell's gaze remained steady.
Lavik continued speaking.
"Both cursed."
"Both cast out."
"Both feared."
He spread his arms slightly.
"So why not let the world burn?"
His glowing eyes narrowed.
"Why defend it?"
Lucifell answered quietly.
"I'm not defending the world."
Lavik blinked once.
Lucifell continued.
"I'm preventing something worse from replacing it."
The temple fell silent again.
Lavik studied Lucifell carefully.
Then he slowly walked back toward his throne.
"So that's why you came."
He sat down again.
"You didn't come to arrest me."
"You didn't come to judge me."
His smile returned slowly.
"You came because you need something."
Lucifell did not deny it.
Lavik leaned forward.
"And what exactly does the Nightbringer want from a monster like me?"
Lucifell finally spoke the real reason.
"I need information."
Lavik's eyes glowed brighter.
"Information about what?"
Lucifell answered calmly.
"The paths beneath the Dark Elven Forest."
Lavik's grin suddenly grew wider.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
"Ah…"
He tapped his sickle lightly against the throne again.
"So that's it."
Lavik leaned closer.
"You believe the Underworld army will rise through my territory."
Lucifell remained silent.
Lavik began laughing again.
But this time…
The laughter sounded far more excited.
"Well now…"
His glowing eyes burned with curiosity.
"That means this war is coming much sooner than I thought."
He leaned forward toward Lucifell.
"And if the Underworld really plans to crawl through my forest…"
Lavik's grin stretched across his face.
"…then perhaps I am interested."
The cursed elf rested his chin on his hand.
"So tell me, Nightbringer."
His voice became playful again.
"What do I get in return?"
Lavik rested his chin against his hand, his glowing orange eyes staring directly into Lucifell.
His sickle tapped slowly against the armrest of his throne.
Lucifell answered without hesitation.
"Your people."
Lavik's smile faded slightly.
Lucifell continued.
"The curse placed upon this forest."
"The one given by Malak."
Lavik's eyes sharpened.
Lucifell's voice remained calm.
"I can remove it."
Silence.
The green flames in the sanctuary flickered softly.
Lavik leaned back in his throne.
His expression slowly changed from amusement to curiosity.
"You're offering to break the curse?"
Lucifell nodded once.
"Not just the forest."
"Your people."
The cursed elf's eyes narrowed.
"You can do that?"
Lucifell answered simply.
"Yes."
For the first time since the meeting began…
Lavik did not smile.
His fingers slowly tightened around one of his sickles.
"You would heal them?"
Lucifell nodded again.
"Every cursed elf in this forest."
The room became very quiet.
Outside the sanctuary, the sound of distant forest insects echoed through the humid air.
Lavik stared at Lucifell for several seconds.
Then he stood up.
Slowly.
His tall, thin figure walked down the steps of the throne.
He stopped directly in front of Lucifell.
"You would return them to what they once were."
Lucifell did not move.
Lavik whispered.
"True elves."
Lucifell answered.
"Yes."
Lavik suddenly laughed.
But this laugh was different.
Short.
Almost bitter.
"You really are insane."
He turned away and began pacing slowly across the sanctuary.
"You offer salvation to monsters."
He spun one sickle casually in his hand.
"Do you know what these people have done?"
"Smugglers."
"Killers."
"Black market traders."
"Slavers."
His orange eyes flashed.
"Just like their king."
Lucifell remained calm.
"I'm not judging them."
Lavik stopped walking.
His back still facing Lucifell.
"Then why?"
Lucifell answered quietly.
"Because the curse was never their choice."
Lavik slowly turned his head.
"And mine was?"
Lucifell did not answer.
Lavik stared at him for a long moment.
Then he chuckled softly.
"You know something, Nightbringer?"
He walked closer again.
"You're very strange."
He leaned closer to Lucifell's face.
"But I like strange."
Lavik stepped back and spread his arms slightly.
"Fine."
He pointed one sickle toward the temple entrance.
"You heal my people."
"Every cursed elf in this forest."
His voice became serious.
"You restore them to what they once were."
Lucifell nodded.
"And in return?"
Lavik's grin returned.
"I give you what you want."
"The tunnels."
"The hidden paths beneath this forest."
"The ones that lead to the Underworld."
Lucifell spoke one word.
"Agreed."
But Lavik suddenly raised a finger.
"One more thing."
Lucifell waited.
Lavik pointed to his own scaled body.
His grey skin covered with snake-like patterns.
His monstrous form.
His glowing eyes.
His cursed existence.
"You heal them."
His smile slowly widened.
"But not me."
Lucifell's gaze remained steady.
Lavik's voice became almost playful.
"I want to stay like this."
He spread his arms again.
"This form…"
"This curse…"
"This beautiful monstrosity."
His grin grew wider.
"It suits me."
Lucifell asked calmly.
"Why?"
Lavik answered without hesitation.
"Because this…"
He tapped one clawed finger against his scaled chest.
"…is who I truly am."
His voice became colder.
"If you remove this curse…"
"I might become the noble elf I used to be."
He leaned closer.
"And I hated that man."
Silence filled the sanctuary.
Then Lavik straightened his cloak.
"So…"
His eyes burned with curiosity again.
"Do we have a deal, Nightbringer?"
Lucifell answered calmly.
"Yes."
Lavik's grin slowly returned.
"Good."
He sat back down on his throne.
"Because the Underworld army is about to walk straight into the worst forest they could possibly choose."
He spun his sickle slowly.
"And I would love to watch that."
Sub-Chapter 5.3: The Weight of Mercy
Lavik sat quietly on his throne, studying Lucifell with growing interest.
"Tell me something, Nightbringer," he said.
"How many people do you think live in this forest?"
Lucifell did not answer.
Lavik answered it himself.
"Roughly fifteen hundred."
His orange eyes glowed faintly in the dark sanctuary.
"Every cursed elf that followed me after the fall of the Golden Leafs Forest."
Lucifell nodded once.
"Gather them."
Lavik raised an eyebrow.
"All of them?"
"Yes."
Lavik chuckled softly.
"You intend to heal fifteen hundred cursed creatures in one day?"
Lucifell simply repeated,
"Gather them."
For a moment Lavik just stared at him.
Then the cursed elf smiled.
"Well… this I want to see."
Not long after, the entire population of the Dark Elven Forest gathered in the clearing before the Cutterbones Sanctuary.
Hundreds.
Then thousands.
Grey-skinned elves with twisted scales.
Eyes glowing faintly in the shadows.
Once they had been majestic elves of the Golden Leafs Forest.
Now they looked like creatures born from a nightmare.
Azazel stood beside Lucifell outside the temple.
He counted the crowd with a quiet sigh.
"Fifteen hundred people…"
He glanced sideways.
"That's going to drain half your energy for the entire day."
Lucifell removed the black gloves from his hands.
His voice remained calm.
"It's okay."
Azazel folded his arms.
"You always say that."
Lucifell stepped forward.
Lavik stood behind the crowd, watching silently.
Curious.
Suspicious.
Hopeful.
Lucifell raised his voice slightly.
"Raise your left hand."
The cursed elves hesitated.
Lavik spoke from behind them.
"Do as he says."
One by one…
Fifteen hundred hands rose into the air.
Lucifell closed his eyes for a moment.
Then his wings appeared.
Large black wings unfolded behind his back like shadows spreading across the clearing.
Feathers darker than the night sky.
Azazel blinked once.
Even he rarely saw them.
Lucifell's bare hands began to glow.
A warm golden light formed around his palms.
This was the gift he carried.
A power that allowed him to heal any wound, illness, or curse.
But every time he healed someone…
He felt the pain they carried.
Every scar.
Every sickness.
Every curse.
The moment when Lucifell activated the ability…
Far away in the Eventide Castle, a jewel resting upon a marble pedestal suddenly began to shine.
Alquine's Jewel.
Its light grew brighter with every passing second.
She recognized that light.
It meant only one thing.
Lucifell was healing again.
She closed her eyes.
And reached out with her mind.
Lucifell stepped forward once.
Then he lifted into the air.
His wings beat once.
Then again.
He began flying above the gathered elves.
As he passed over them, he tapped each raised hand with his glowing palm.
The first touch happened.
And suddenly—
Pain.
Lucifell felt it instantly.
Not just physical pain.
Memories.
Suffering.
Fear.
The curse of Malak had twisted their bodies for years.
He felt every broken bone.
Every sickness.
Every moment of despair.
Inside his mind he whispered quietly.
"stay calm."
Another hand.
Another flash of light.
More pain flooded into him.
A child who watched their parents mutate.
A warrior who lost his mind under the curse.
A woman who feared her own reflection.
Lucifell clenched his jaw.
Inside his mind he screamed.
But outside…
He remained calm.
Another touch.
Another life restored.
Golden light spread across the clearing like falling stars.
Below him, the cursed elves began transforming.
Grey scales vanished.
Skin returned to its natural tone.
Eyes softened.
They were becoming elves again.
Lucifell continued flying.
Faster now.
Hundreds healed.
Then more.
The pain inside his mind grew louder.
Voices.
Memories.
Screams.
Please help us.
It hurts.
Why did this happen to us?
Lucifell screamed silently inside his mind as he pushed forward.
Then the sky itself responded.
Dark clouds above the forest suddenly cracked apart.
A brilliant light descended from the heavens.
The forest was bathed in warmth.
The trees themselves began to change.
Twisted branches straightened.
Dead leaves turned green again.
The land was healing too.
Lavik watched everything in silence.
His glowing eyes slowly widened.
For the first time in centuries…
His people looked like elves again.
Above them, Lucifell reached the final person.
He touched the last raised hand.
Golden light exploded across the clearing.
Then suddenly—
His wings vanished.
Lucifell's body fell from the sky.
Azazel moved instantly.
He caught Lucifell before he struck the ground.
Lucifell's breathing was heavy.
His body trembling from exhaustion.
Azazel sighed.
"I told you."
And at that moment…
Azazel heard a voice inside his mind.
A familiar voice.
Through telepathy.
"Azazel."
It was Alquine.
Azazel sighed slightly.
"Yes, I know."
"You saw it through the jewel."
Alquine's voice sounded worried.
"He used it again…"
Azazel glanced down at Lucifell.
"Yeah."
"And this time on fifteen hundred people."
There was a pause.
Then Azazel added quietly.
"But don't worry."
"I caught him."
The connection faded.
Lavik approached slowly.
He stared at the exhausted Nightbringer.
Then spoke calmly.
"Let him rest in my temple."
Azazel looked up.
Lavik smirked slightly.
"And you, half-blood…"
He turned toward the sanctuary entrance.
"This time you are allowed inside."
Azazel lifted Lucifell and walked toward the temple.
But as he crossed the stone doorway—
A memory suddenly flashed across his mind.
A village.
Burning.
Azazel was fifteen years old.
People screaming.
A massive hydra dragon destroying houses with its many heads.
Azazel remembered the fear.
The helplessness.
Then the sky turned black.
A figure descended from the clouds.
Black wings.
A calm voice.
Lucifell.
The Nightbringer had slain the hydra that day.
After the battle…
Lucifell walked through the ruined village.
Touching wounded people one by one.
Healing them exactly the same way he had done today.
Azazel remembered watching silently as a teenager.
That was the moment he decided something.
I will follow that man.
The memory faded.
Azazel looked down at Lucifell's unconscious face.
"…you never change," he muttered quietly.
Inside the sanctuary, Lavik stood near the entrance watching them.
As Azazel carried Lucifell deeper into the temple, Lavik spoke softly.
"I owe you, Nightbringer."
Outside, the healed elves stood in silence.
Looking at their hands.
Their faces.
Their reflections.
For the first time in centuries…
They were free.
Hours later, inside the sanctuary, Lavik kept his promise.
He revealed what Lucifell had come for.
Ancient tunnels beneath the forest.
Old passages carved long ago.
Paths that connected several distant lands.
Smugglers once used them.
So did darker forces.
Lavik's voice became serious.
"One of those tunnels…"
He tapped the map carved into the stone floor.
"…leads directly to the Underworld Kingdom."
Lucifell listened carefully.
The war would come through those paths.
Eventually.
But not yet.
The next morning,
Lucifell and Azazel prepared to leave the forest.
Hundreds of elves gathered along the path to watch them go.
But this time…
They were no longer cursed creatures.
They were elves again.
And they cheered.
Azazel mounted his horse and glanced back at the crowd.
"Well…"
He grinned slightly.
"You just became a legend in their history."
Lucifell said nothing.
As they reached the forest gate,
the massive minotaur Gribs stepped forward.
He tossed a small sack through the air.
Lucifell caught it.
The gold coins from yesterday.
Gribs nodded respectfully.
"Thank you, Nightbringer."
Lucifell placed the sack back in his saddlebag.
Then he and Azazel rode forward across the Land of No Man.
Their destination was clear.
The Kingdom of Mournvale.
Behind them,
the Dark Elven Forest slowly disappeared into the distance.
And somewhere far below the earth…
Ancient tunnels waited.
Silent.
Dark.
Leading to the rising armies of the Underworld.