“You never said it could fight back!” Alwen yelped as ice shards tore through his arm, sending him sprawling.

  “I didn’t know either! The book never mentioned it!” I shouted, casting Rejuvenation for what felt like the hundredth time.

  In Dreadspire, the throne just sat there. It never fought back. But this one, forged from ice and bone, was anything but passive. Summon Skeleton, Nova Blast, Icicle Strike. It could cast spells the Lich King used, though nowhere near as strong.

  We fought against time, attacking relentlessly and dodging just enough to stay alive. Behind us, Pica’s Treant held the Lich King at bay, its wooden frame protected by Living Armor. Unlike before, the Lich King refused to stray far from his frozen throne.

  I pulled out another of my precious potions. Like the Cinderbrew Vial, it was brewed with Emberfly essence and infused with fire. I hurled it toward the throne.

  [Flameburst Flask used]

  The vial shattered mid-air, erupting into a burst of searing flame that clung to the throne, crawling across it like a living inferno and filling the air with the hiss of melting ice.

  “Take that, you stupid chair!” I yelled as a chunk of its backrest exploded under the blast.

  “Help me! This part’s almost gone!” Alwen shouted, blasting one of the throne’s supports until it began to tilt dangerously.

  I followed his lead, firing a volley of Mana shots while ducking under a hail of jagged ice that nearly clipped my head.

  With a thunderous crack, the throne split in two. The upper half collapsed, scattering shards of bone and ice like broken glass.

  Too bad the Tether had already worn off. If not, this fight would’ve ended ages ago.

  Relief started to rise in my chest, until Pica’s scream cut through the chaos.

  I turned. Her Treant had just taken a massive ice blast. Its bark cracked, splintered, then shattered into pieces. Pica stood exposed, completely defenseless.

  “Eryndor, careful!” Alwen warned.

  Another Icicle Strike streaked toward me. Everything happened too fast. I saw Alwen leap, then warmth splashed across my face.

  Thick. Sticky. Metallic. The tang of blood filled my mouth. I wiped my eyes and screamed his name.

  Alwen convulsed on the floor, blood spilling from the gaping wound in his neck.

  “Eryndor, destroy the throne!” Pica shouted, just before a blast from the Lich King sent her crashing into the floor.

  I froze. My thoughts scattered like glass.

  We had to finish this. But Alwen… he was dying right in front of me.

  Instinct took over.

  I pulled out the Restorative Chalice, its carvings of vines and tiny forest creatures shifted subtly.

  As water from my gourd touched its base, the liquid shimmered into gold. The carvings began to move faster as I fed Mana into it. The glow deepened to radiant gold.

  [Restorative Chalice used. Hidden Effect: Greater Restoration activated]

  I lifted Alwen’s head, poured the shining liquid into his mouth, pressing my palm over the wound. His convulsions slowed. Torn flesh began to knit together.

  Then the chalice crumbled in my hands, disintegrating into golden dust that drifted away like sand on the wind.

  I turned back to the throne, ignoring the shards of ice tearing into my skin. Chaos ruled the room, Pica’s faint screams mingled with the blasts of ice from the Lich.

  [WARNING: Your HP has fallen below 10%]

  Pain lanced through my ribs as I unleashed my final attack, shattering the throne in a burst of raw Mana. Cracks spidered through its surface, gouging deep fissures into the floor as necrotic energy spiraled upward.

  The green flames in the corner torches flickered out. The Lich King shrieked, its skeletal form rising, wreathed in emerald fire.

  I stumbled toward Pica, ignoring my wounds. The entire left side of her body was a wreck, frozen solid in places and shattered in others. Her severed arm lay beside her like broken ice.

  “W-why?” she whispered, blood spilling down her chin. Her eyes were distant, unfocused.

  I couldn’t answer. I just poured potion after potion, casting Rejuvenation again and again. Even if she survived, she’d never be whole again.

  “It’s over, Pica. We won,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “I’ll fix this. I swear it.”

  “Why?” she breathed weakly. “You had the chance.”

  “I—I’m sorry,” I stammered, tears burning my eyes.

  She murmured something I couldn’t hear, then a voice, cold and sharp, echoed through the chamber.

  The King’s Temptation.

  The Lich’s signature move before it was sealed away.

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  “I sense it… a hunger for power… greatness…”

  “One among you… may rise… power without end… life without limit…”

  “Shut up, you fucking corpse!” I roared, voice cracking.

  “Lend me your strength… and in return, a fragment of my soul…”

  Pica’s right hand twitched. Mana flared around her staff.

  “I will.” Her voice was weak, but resolute. “Make me strong.”

  “Pica, no… what are you doing?” I gasped.

  But it was too late.

  “Wise choice… mortal.”

  “Rise, bearer of my soul… together, we shall unmake the world that feared us.”

  Her body lifted from the ground, drawn toward the Lich. I grabbed her leg, but blood made my grip slip.

  Alwen, barely conscious, screamed her name as the Lich descended, cradling her limp form. It slid her body into the cracks of the shattered throne.

  The torches flared green. Shadows came alive.

  “Shit,” I hissed, staggering back.

  “This… isn’t over.”

  ***

  With the King’s Temptation successful, the Lich King wasn’t sealed away immediately. The ritual required one last step: we had to inflict enough damage before the seal would trigger.

  Fortunately, since Pica had been the vessel, the threshold shouldn’t have been too high.

  But I was in no shape to fight. Every breath burned where the ice had pierced my ribs, my Mana reserves were nearly empty, and every healing potion I owned had already been poured down Pica’s throat.

  I clenched my teeth, drawing out the last embers of Mana I had left to heal myself.

  [WARNING: Mana reserves below 2%]

  Pain flared behind my eyes as the world tilted. Each cast felt like tearing my own veins apart.

  Alwen noticed.

  He stepped forward and raised his staff. His Tether latched onto the Lich King, binding them together. Then he uncorked a Painbane Potion and downed it in one gulp.

  “Fight me, you ugly skeleton,” he snarled, lightning crackling around him as he activated Overload. The air hummed with violent energy before his attack slammed into the Lich’s chest.

  The King staggered, screeching. A gust of icy wind blasting Alwen off his feet. He hit the ground hard, rolled, and still forced himself upright. He screamed again, firing another blast.

  I tried to rise, but agony tore through me. My legs refused to obey. I could only watch helplessly as Alwen traded blow after blow with the Lich King.

  A burst of frost exploded against him, coating his body in jagged ice. Still, he didn’t stop. He kept attacking, each shot fueled by something far stronger than pain.

  “Die, you bastard!” Alwen roared, taking one step forward and unleashing another Overload.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  The Lich raised its wand, summoning a storm of icy spears that tore through the air. Alwen barely flinched.

  I couldn’t bear to watch. I shut my eyes as the sound of impact tore through the air. When I opened them again, he was still standing. Somehow. His body was full of holes, yet he refused to fall, firing another barrage.

  Then, finally, I heard it.

  “You… think you’ve won? I… am… eternal…”

  The Lich King’s final words rasped through the frozen air before its body lifted, wreathed in green fire.

  [Special Event: Challenge 3 of 3 Completed]

  “Alwen! Alwen!” I called out, stumbling toward him. He was still attacking, still firing aimlessly into empty air. The fight was over, but his body hadn’t realized it yet.

  “Stop! For God’s sake, it’s over!” My voice broke as I wrapped my arms around him from behind. Tears blurred my vision. His body was ice-cold and trembling.

  At last, he stopped. The staff slipped from his fingers and clattered against the floor.

  I laid him down gently, ignoring the tremors shaking the ground as the Lich’s body sank into the cracks below, sealed away.

  “Don’t die…” he whispered. So faintly I almost thought I imagined it.

  “Alwen, please!” I cried, rummaging through his pouch and grabbing the potion. But deep down, I already knew it was useless. His breath came slower and slower… until it stopped. The light in his eyes dimmed and went out.

  “No… no, no, nooo!” I bellowed, clutching his body, shaking him as if I could force a miracle to happen.

  I didn’t know how long I screamed. Or cried.

  All I knew was that, at some point, darkness finally took me too.

  ***

  I had no idea how long I’d been asleep.

  All I remembered was the nightmare: vivid, terrifying, and far too real.

  When I finally woke, the first thing I felt was the stickiness clinging to my skin. The air bit at my skin, cold enough to make me shiver uncontrollably.

  Still half-conscious, my eyes drifted toward a shape beside me, and then my breath caught. Alwen lay motionless on the ground, his body torn and bloodied. His eyes were open, empty, devoid of life.

  For a moment, my mind refused to accept it. Then the truth struck like a blade through the chest. The nightmare had been real.

  Tears slipped down my cheeks before I even noticed. I wanted to scream, to curse the world, but my throat burned, and all that came out was a hoarse, broken sound. My emotions tangled into a painful mess: rage, despair, guilt, grief.

  I pulled Alwen into my arms and gently closed his eyes. I didn’t know what else to do.

  Time lost meaning as I sat there, drowning in regret. I blamed the Lich that never should’ve appeared, my own recklessness, and this cursed Tower that had taken everything from us.

  But most of all, I blamed Pica.

  If that traitorous bitch hadn’t turned on us, Alwen would still be alive. We’d be laughing right now, celebrating our victory instead of mourning it.

  “You shameless, backstabbing bitch… I should’ve let you die,” I spat. I had even planned to heal her completely.

  After venting every ounce of fury I had left, I forced myself to breathe. My hands trembled as I pressed them together and whispered a brief farewell before covering Alwen’s body with a torn cloth. I had no choice. I couldn’t give him a proper burial here.

  Then I turned to the treasure chest that had appeared after the fight. Inside lay piles of Mana Stones and rare monster parts. I gathered everything in silence, each movement reigniting my hatred for Pica.

  I searched through the rest of our belongings, collecting what Alwen had left behind. Fortunately, there were still a few healing potions. I also had some Cinderbrew Vials and Flameburst Flasks left, though not many.

  Once finished, I took some time to restore my Mana and health. Without the Restorative Chalice, the process was painfully slow.

  I need to get another one, I thought grimly. But it’ll take time until it’s available again.

  Now that I was alone, I had to rethink everything. Maybe, in a twisted way, this was a good thing. I could move freely, hunt for hidden treasures without questions or suspicion.

  “Time to move,” I muttered, standing after finishing my new exploration plan. “Staying here any longer would drive me mad.”

  I walked toward the black statue near the stairs. Its expression was cold, lifeless, and unchanging. For a long moment, I just stared back at it before placing my hand on the golden skull embedded in its chest.

  Light burst from every corner of the chamber, growing brighter and brighter until it became unbearable. I squinted, then shut my eyes, pressing my arm over them.

  I counted the seconds until the brilliance finally began to fade. Slowly, I opened them again.

  “…Where am I?” I looked around, confused.

  I had expected the golden chamber back in the underground cavern, yet found myself somewhere completely unfamiliar.

  MILESTONES

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