The ride to Crown’s Seat was hot and dusty, but Anya knew the back roads and pushed their horses hard. They arrived not a moment too soon. Borin’s hearing was just beginning in the main square, but a huge, angry crowd had already gathered. The mood was ugly. Gossip and royal announcements had painted Borin as a monster—a lone butcher who had slaughtered innocent hunters in a mountain rage.In the center of the square, on a raised wooden platform, Borin knelt. His hands were bound behind his back. Two massive royal guards stood on either side of him, holding his shoulders. He held his head high, but Lex could see the tightness in his jaw, the simmering anger and despair in his eyes.On a grand dais opposite the platform sat King Magnus Ironhold, the Merchant King of Aurelia. He looked weary but attentive, flanked by a line of stern, gray-bearded advisors—the King’s Council who would decide the penalty.The royal herald, the same large man from the festival, stepped onto the platform wi

After collecting a groggy but healing Yorn and a heavily-bandaged Rourke from the healer in Seaspire, the group made the final trek back to Ironstead. It was the deep, quiet hour of middle night when they finally stumbled through the inn's familiar door. The common room was dark and empty, a welcome sight."Right," Borin grunted, dropping his pack with a thud that echoed in the silence. "We are all dead on our feet. We will divvy up the loot in the morning when we can count past three without falling asleep. Everyone, get some rest."Lex didn't need telling twice. He dragged himself up the creaky stairs and collapsed onto his lumpy bed without even taking off his boots. His mind, however, buzzed for a while. He kept seeing the royal knight's single, perfect swing. He felt the crushing, invisible pressure of the King's magic. The sheer, effortless scale of their power."How many more like them are there?" he wondered, staring at the dark ceiling. Knights, wizards, warlords... kings. A

Lex fought the bats for what felt like hours.At first, it was a frantic, desperate dance. He spun and slashed, his glowing sword a blur of light in the oppressive darkness. Giant bat bodies thudded to the spongy ground, dissolving into puffs of fetid smoke and leaving behind small, pulsing Gloom-Cores. He’d snatch them up and shove them into his [Hammerspace] Backpack almost without thinking.But they kept coming. For every one he cut down, two more seemed to detach from the ceiling. Their shrieks were a physical force, battering his ears and scrambling his thoughts. He was exhausted, wounded from glancing claw strikes that tore his new tunic and drew blood. His arms burned. Hope began to drain away, replaced by a cold, clenching fear."This is it," a panicked voice in his head whispered. "You got cocky. You’re going to die in a cave, eaten by giant bats."He stumbled backward, his eyes fixed on the shimmering, dark tear of the portal he’d entered through. It was only twenty feet awa

The Shadow-thing, the faceless general, might not have had a face, but Lex didn’t need one to read its body language. The way it took a half-step back on its crystal dais. The slight tremor in its outstretched, clawed finger. The agitated swirl of the darkness where its head should be. It wasn’t just surprised. It was fear.It knows about the System, Lex realized, the thought cutting through his fatigue. It knows what "He has come" means. And it's terrified.The creature let out another scream. This one wasn't a command. It was a raw, psychic shriek of pure frustration and fear that made the ancient stones of the chamber groan and dust rain from the ceiling. Its massive army of Spawnlings and Golems, sensing their master’s panic, wavered. They shuffled backwards, their growls turning into confused whimpers.Lex, leaning on his sword, chest heaving, allowed himself a spark of hope. "It’s breaking. The army’s breaking. I can win this."But then, the Shadow-General did something strange.

Lex stood in the aftermath of his victory, catching his breath in the empty, scorched throne room. The purple-black crystal core of the Shadow-General pulsed faintly on the dais, the only remaining evidence that something terrible had once ruled this place. He scooped it up, feeling its unnatural warmth, and stashed it in his [Hammerspace] Backpack alongside the mountain of monster cores he'd accumulated.He took one last look around the cavern. The cold blue braziers had died. The oppressive, suffocating darkness was gone, replaced by the natural gloom of a regular cave. It was just a hole in the ground now.He turned and walked back through the narrow tunnel, past the torchlit corridor, through the silent cavern where he'd slaughtered the bats, and finally approached the shimmering tear of the portal.This time, when he reached out, his hand passed through without resistance.He stepped out.The air hit him first. Cold, crisp, and carrying the scent of pine needles and damp earth. I