–—- ??? —---

  Countless long stalks of grass rippled as soft winds blew. The sky beyond turned a dramatic display of orange and pink as the twin suns began their descent into slumber.

  Jonathan's gaze swept over the calm scene as their cart jostled and bounced along the bumpy imperial road.

  He sighed as he leaned back against the provisions piled in with the heroes. Behind and ahead of them, the members of his order marched, rode horseback, or rested on supply wagons like theirs.

  It had been a long, disappointing day.

  After being dismissed by the high priest, Jonathan had regrouped with his party. They had set out into the city once more, their search for survivors continuing. Having more able bodies to search only helped the dismal truth arrive sooner. The city of Golvan lay in ruins, its people missing or dead.

  They had only found two more. That was it. Every unaccounted member of the city was now assumed dead or taken. As if that wasn’t bad enough, they were ordered to abandon the city.

  “Jonathan?” a soft voice whispered.

  The paladin shifted his attention from the rippling grass to Catherine. The blond elementalist studied him with a look of concern. Jonathan gave her a small smile.

  “Sorry, my mind was elsewhere.”

  “I know.” She returned his smile, then chuckled as a loud snore broke into their conversation. “If only we could be as relaxed as Algorax,” Catherine said, glancing at the passed-out barbarian. “I still don’t understand how he seems to be able to sleep anywhere.”

  Jonathan chuckled. “He swore to me it wasn’t a skill. I told him if I ever discovered he lied, I would never let him hear the end of it.”

  “Nor would I.” Catherine agreed. She leaned closer to Jonathan, and her smile shifted into a troubled frown. “Did you want to talk about your meeting? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that angry.”

  A long sigh escaped Jonathan before he could stop it. “I…” He dropped his eyes to the floor as he thought through that meeting. He had been beyond angry. The order had been his home since he could remember. But at times, he wondered why he stayed. To blame him and his party for their ‘inability’? To suggest they should have done more?

  Jonathan had already done more. They all had. Every one of the heroes had sacrificed more than anyone else. And yet, they were always told they were lacking. By royalty, by their leaders, and now, more recently, by some ridiculous man in a stupid hat.

  With the Demonlord dead, what did he owe these people? Even now, they rode to the next stronghold city to stand before the united leaders of the world. Why? So they could give their “report.” Not celebrate their victory, but report. Jonathan was tired of it all.

  He raised his eyes from the floor, and they gained a steely glint.

  “Catherine, they blame us for the cities that have been lost. Countless people are angry, and the nobles need someone to take the blame.”

  Catherine frowned. “But it’s not our fault. We fought day in and day out.” Her tone took on venom. “While those nobles fled to safer cities. The moment the fight looked lost, they retreated with their armies.” Her knuckles went white as she gripped her skirt. “And because of that, cities were lost, then corrupted. That can’t be put on our shoulders.”

  “You are right. But they aren’t going to see it that way,” Jonathan replied, his jaw tight. “For them, every fallen city is another black mark for the heroes. You know they have already spread rumors that we are inadequate. They dismiss the reports of the Demonlord’s strength and instead insist we are simply lazy.” Jonathan’s teeth felt like they might crack. “That we don’t train enough. That we are somehow not ‘true’ heroes.”

  “Well, then, why don’t we be what they accuse us of?” someone hissed from their side.

  Catherine and Jonathan glanced over to see Darcy.

  “Weren’t you scouting ahead?” Jonathan asked.

  “I was.” She nodded as she leaned against a lumpy bag. “There’s nothing. Empty road from here to where we will camp tonight.”

  Jonathan nodded.

  “What are you suggesting, Darcy?” Catherine asked with squinted eyes.

  “I’m just saying,” Darcy replied, twirling a gleaming dagger, “if they are going to say we aren’t ‘true’ heroes, then why not act like it?” Her mouth split in a predatory smile. “There are a few of those loudmouths who could use a lesson in civility.”

  Jonathan expected Catherine to protest, but was surprised when she remained silent. Darcy’s eyebrows shot up at the dark look on the elementalist’s face.

  “Hold on, you aren’t actually thinking of agreeing?” Darcy stared at Catherine. “Cat, you’re supposed to be the diplomatic one.”

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  “Has Miss Dignified finally decided to join in on our horrible plans?” Algorax said as he used his arms to push himself from his sleeping position. He glared at Darcy, then whipped a small bronze coin at her. The rogue shifted her head to the left, dodging the coin, but yelping as a second one smacked audibly.

  “That’s for kicking me awake as you snuck back onto the wagon, little thief,” Aglorax said with a grin.

  “Damnit, Algorax!” Darcy cursed, rubbing the red mark on her forehead. “I swear that coin wasn’t standard. Do you sneak off to have those custom-made?”

  Algorax winked. “Not that you know.” He turned his tattooed face back to Catherine. “But what’s going on? It’s not like you ignore our little thief when she suggests violence. Normally, you would be lecturing her by this point.”

  Catherine glanced at him, then at Jonathan. “Have you told them?”

  Darcy and Algorax looked at Jonathan. The paladin shook his head. He clenched his fist as he recounted his meeting with the High Priest, then the short conversation he had later as everyone was ordered to abandon the city.

  “I just don’t get it,” Algorax muttered. “Sure, the city is a ruin, and the walls are rubble at multiple points.” He glanced toward Catherine. “But shouldn’t that be simple to fix? I thought that was why Timothy was staying behind. You get a few good earth elementalists and buildings and walls rise in hours.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Catherine replied. “The city’s layline has been corrupted. We had hoped the demons didn’t have enough time, but Marie and some of the order’s priests confirmed it.”

  She shook her head. “Now Golvan will join the other fallen cities.”

  Algorax frowned. “You keep saying that, but it doesn’t make any sense. My people’s stronghold has been rebuilt countless times. Nothing like that ever happened there.”

  “But that was before the shift,” Catherine nodded. “When the cycle’s breach point moved to imperial territory, this new tactic appeared.” Her face dropped. “Before this, it was only a few towns that fell. But with this cycle?” She glanced between her friends. “It’s best to assume every city that was taken had its leylines corrupted.”

  “That still doesn’t make it our fault,” Darcy huffed. “We have done nothing but fight since the cycle began. They can’t really blame us for this…” She looked at Jonathan. “Can they?”

  Jonathan was silent for a moment. “It sounds like they are going to.”

  They all fell silent.

  “Just how bad is this… corruption anyway?” Algorax broke the dead air.

  “Bad,” Catherine replied. “My family has trade connections that stretch through the entire empire. We’ve collected eyewitness accounts,” she drummed her fingers on her staff. “From those, they describe strange, uncontrollable magic. Local beasts that find their way in emerge warped and changed. People go in, then never come out.” She shuddered. “And the effects only get worse with every passing year.”

  She sighed, her shoulders sagging in resignation.

  “It’s a disaster.”

  –—- ??? —---

  “It’s perfect!” Wilbur exclaimed, his eyes glowing with arcane light. He hovered among the clouds, his body cloaked as he gazed down on the ruined city.

  He had been observing the city from above, and a few hours ago, the column of troops had left. Wilbur had watched as groups of mages moved to the crumbled sections of walls and still-standing gatehouses.

  He had thought they were just sealing the city's defenses, but had been surprised when they also sealed the gates.

  Why were they doing that? To keep the few non-ruined buildings and their contents safe from looters?

  Wilbur had considered teleporting down to ask, but decided against it. Instead, he took a ‘wait and see’ approach.

  And boy, was there a lot to see. Wilbur had cast multiple detection and observation spells, then had been dumbstruck by what he saw.

  The mana in the city was changing.

  His vision zoomed in on the glowing blob of mana that was the city's leyline. Normally, a leyline wasn’t easily visible. However, someone had done something to this one.

  And the change was glorious.

  “I never knew demons could do something like this,” He muttered to himself as he examined the glowing light. To be fair, he had never really messed around with leylines. Messing with mana conduits connected to the heart of the world always seemed like a dumb idea to Wilbur. In his years of magical tinkering, there had always been… unfortunate accidents. Those normally resulted in burnt hair, fingers, or slightly worse. But they weren’t that bad. He had grown a bit numb to physical injuries over the years. These days, when an array misaligned or a concoction exploded, Wilbur would just raise his remaining appendages and go, “It's gone! Ta da!”

  He always thought it was funny. Maybe he would perform that trick with an audience now that he was back out in the world.

  But he was getting distracted. Which is something you shouldn’t do when messing with leylines.

  The result of an “oops” when it came to them was far worse than a missing limb. Instead, what would go missing would be the neighborhood. Or the whole country.

  Maybe he had been wrong in avoiding them. The demons clearly had, and they were fine.

  …they did have a boss who would always come back even if he died. Minor details.

  But what they had accomplished was worth the risk. The leyline was changing its alignment. Wilbur had searched the Glittering Expanse for months to find a leyline that only had the mildest of attunements. Even then, it had taken over a year to create a magical device to shunt off that pesky fire affinity into the surrounding desert.

  “It’s definitely demonic in some way,” He mused as he watched the dark black energy slowly expand. With every hour, it steadily overtook the glowing white of the leyline's magical footprint. The dark, demonic essence within wasn’t what interested Wilbur. It was what lay underneath.

  Arcane Magic.

  Once the corruption completely took hold, it would radiate the demonically infused arcane that the Demonlord used. Of course, that’s if it was left alone.

  Wilbur’s gaze shifted to the straight line that cut through the countryside. It stretched far into the distance, and Wilbur squinted as he searched for the elementalists. They weren’t even visible to his magically enhanced vision by this point, the group seeming to be in quite the rush to catch up.

  He turned back to the city. Were they just going leave it to its fate? That seemed like such a waste. Would they not come back?

  “Hmmm.” Wilbur’s gaze swept the ruin. Few buildings stood after the demons' rampage.

  He broke into a grin.“Squatter's rights? That’s totally a thing in this empire, right?” Wilbur willed his body downward. He descended from the clouds, the ruined city growing in his view.

  “Even then.” Wilbur nodded to himself. “At the very least, real estate prices in Golvan are perfect for the opportunistic buyer!”

  He laughed as his feet hit the shattered cobble.

  “And I thought this quest was going to be hard. Step one and two, here I come!”

  –—- ??? —---

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