The runes lit up, using the mana contained in the crystal to open the dimensional door and create a red vortex connecting two different points in space. Manohar dragged Balkor inside and shapeshifted them both back to their real appearance.

"No more tricks?" The god of death asked.

"No, just a piece of advice. Save your best spells for Night. There is no reason to waste good magic on goons."

Ancient Gates could be opened by anyone at any time, making them a security nightmare. It was the reason why Undead Courts placed a gatekeeper at every entrance and they had to be informed of every arrival or departure.

The moment the red door opened, Xear Rakley, gatekeeper and one of the oldest Ghouls of Othre, sounded the alarm. Ghouls had regenerative abilities on par with trolls and couldn't be killed unless their heart was destroyed or their entire body pulverized.

Both were arduous tasks since they could freely move their hearts throughout their bodies and merge with earth to escape all kinds of attacks. Balkor only needed a flick of his wrist to release his tier three spell Needle.

A hail of darkness rays pierced Xear from every side. Each one of them was no bigger than a pinhole, resulting in little to no damage to a living being. An undead's weak point, however, was another story entirely.

The ghoul's heart had now more holes than swiss cheese and even though they were small, the damage was enough to cut off the mana flow it received from the blood core. For a split second, the ghoul turned into a corpse, and then it stayed that way.

"Nice move." Manohar gave him a thumbs up before waving his hand and slaughtering an elite unit of undead.

His tier four spell, Full-Course Meal, fixed the imbalance in their blood cores, turning the undead back into living beings just long enough for the tier three spell Fire Wall to burn them into crisp.

"And here I thought I was the only one researching a cure for undeath." Balkor said. "Your method is crude and ineffective. It doesn't really fix anything. It just overloads the undead with the light element."

"That's the difference between you and me." Manohar said. "You think that reversing undeath is a cure, whereas I think that death is the cure. Look at these old fogeys. They have lived centuries, and for what?

"Did they make any great magical breakthrough? Have they brought any real progress to their civilization? No. They are pests and they need to be treated as such."

"I disagree." Balkor used the tier four darkness spell, Sandman, to send another wave of guards to their eternal sleep. "Undeath can be used to buy time and give a life to people affected by diseases we have yet to find a cure for.

"Not all the undead are born out of their own will and some regret their choice. They deserve a second chance."

"At what price? What about the lives of those they had to feed upon to sustain their existence? There's no such thing as a second chance." Manohar shook his head while impaling a vampire with a stake made of light.

"Price? Very few undead need to kill to feed. Also, every country has its jails filled with people who don't deserve to live. Their life force can be used to give back at least part of what they have taken from others." Balkor snarled as he turned a Golem into debris.

The two mages continued their debate while slaughtering everyone and everything so dumb to stand in their path. What made the elders of the Court run away, screaming for their mothers like children after a nightmare, was the fact that not a single piece of furniture was broken, not a single carpet was damaged by the Magi.

Even their area of effect spells were maneuvered with surgical precision that they hit nothing but their intended targets. The Magi followed the Court's elders to the throne hall, where their host was waiting for them.

"Manohar, it's so good to see you again." Night giggled like a little girl. "You shouldn't have bothered bringing me a present. I was going to take dear Balkor myself later, but thank you anyway.

"You've saved me the trip and another tussle with that overgrown desert chicken."

"I think there's a misunderstanding. I've never been here before." Manohar lied through his teeth, placing his hand over his heart to look more convincing.

"Please, there are only three renowned Light Masters in the whole Griffon Kingdom. One is a kitty cat, another is a lizzie, and the last is you." Night said. "Do you think I missed how the 'mysterious girl' used your spells and moved like a man?"

"I…"

"No, you don't have a sister. I checked!" She cut him short.

Night looked like a young woman in her mid-twenties, about 1.70 meters (5'7") tall, with ebony skin that seemed to devour all light and full lips that highlighted her sensual smile.

She had silver waist-long hair and round eyes without pupils that shone like moons. Her body was covered by a skin-tight black full suit of armor that left only her head exposed, yet she was no less charming than if she was wearing a cocktail dress.

Each one of her Chosen belonged to a different race, undead species and country, but they all exuded a powerful presence that would bring most mortals to their knees. They were the apex predators of their kind, yet they weren't allowed to sit nor to stay close to their lord.

They stood behind her throne, waiting for orders.

"Dammit, this is really embarrassing." Manohar scratched his head. "I know I only asked you a second opinion about Night, but now we need to kill them all. We can't afford these maniacs to spread their lies throughout the three great countries.

"I have a reputation to uphold."

Balkor started to laugh like a maniac, not knowing whether to be more amused by Manohar abusing the word "we" or by the fact that the god of healing was completely ignoring Night and her cadre.

"How dare you pitiful lambs disrespect the Dark Queen?" Beregor Skywulf had been a powerful barbarian chieftain before being turned into a Wraith.

Nothing of his flesh now remained, yet the living shadows enveloping his bones were shaped to resemble his lost physique. He stood almost 2 meters (6' 7") tall, with shoulders wider than most tables and arms as thick as small trees.

His fingers were caressing the hilt of his prized battle-ax, Stormhowl, that rested on his back. He wore leather trousers padded with fur, a leather shirt and boots. It was impossible to say if he was bald since shadows couldn't replicate hair.

Beregor's eyes shone with the red light of undeath that was now strengthened by his fury and mana.

"Silence, Beregor. You are but servants, whereas Manohar is my guest and Balkor is the Sword I've chosen." Night raised her hand, making her champions stand at attention like soldiers.

"Join me, Ilyum Balkor, and I'll give you more than you have ever dreamed about. Together we can conquer this Kingdom and kill all those who made your life miserable.

I'm not like the Royals, I don't care about anyone but Baba Yaga's children. I promise you that together we will destroy all the ancient noble households, including the accursed Ernas, and then even the children of the Griffon if that's what you want."