The six Guardians pooled up their resources to find a way to contain the lost cities they had access to, to get rid of all those whose destruction would have minimal consequences, and to keep under control as many as the survivors in Jiera could handle.

All Guardians on Mogar used the lost cities as constant reminders of the consequences that Forbidden Magic had and of how even when it succeeded, its practice required a cost one hundred-fold greater than the result.

People who grew in their shadows would rarely dare to dabble in the Forbidden Arts while those who lived away from the lost cities would thank the gods for their luck and do all they could to keep things that way.

"What do you think of the anomaly? We agreed on sending him to your continent to allow you to study Lith and get your opinion." Tyris asked.

"Since he refused my offer for help, I can say that he's a moron." Fenagar's voice spoke volumes about his still hurting pride.

"Then he's as smart as I imagined. If he became your study subject, he would have died long before you let him go." Leegaain said.

"I don't give a damn about the anomaly." Zagran the Garuda said. "He's weak and insignificant, just like everyone but Salaark and I."

The Lord of Might would rarely provide a useful contribution so the others ignored her.

"I find him interesting." Roghar the Fenrir said. "This Lith is unlike Salaark who rules over death and rebirth or like me who deals with finding new ways to give life. From what I could see, his trade is not just killing, he deals with souls."

"What do you mean?" Salaark asked, intrigued at the idea.

"You use the darkness element to destroy something in order to create something else or make way for new life whereas he doesn't only kill someone, he also acts as a gateway for those who remained trapped between life and death."

"I noticed that his cracked life force exudes a powerful death aura. Do you think the two things are related?" Tyris asked.

"Indeed. Usually, the spirits of those who fail to move forward are doomed to linger around their deathplace, waiting for a Necromancer to create a suitable host for them. In Lith's case, however, the souls follow him and use him as a means to vent their anger.

"It makes Lith's potential enormous since even though those souls so far inhabited just shadows, he managed to feed them his life force through Spirit Magic, giving back to those souls not only substance, but also part of their memories." Roghar said.

"How is it different from my children?" Baba Yaga asked.

"Your children never truly died, while a common Necromancer simply gives a wandering spirit the means to interact with the physical world in exchange for all their memories.

"Based on my experiments, when the body and the soul aren't in synch, forming a bond between them erases the consciousness, making a greater undead akin to a newborn.

"The anomaly, instead, creates only a temporary bond that allows the souls to both retain their minds and to vent their grievances through battle. I theory, if perfected, such technique would allow a true resurrection.

"Yet since Mogar described him as the Lord of Destruction I doubt that is his intended purpose. What's truly interesting, however, is that amazing tower he brings along. It's an anomaly as unprecedented as he is." Roghar said.

"That's another thing that I failed to understand. The runt is way too young to craft something like that by himself and I'm sure that I know every single mage tower in existence. Does anyone know where it comes from?" Baba Yaga asked.

The Guardians from Garlen shook their heads even though they knew the truth, unwilling to put Menadion's Desperation at risk.

"I don't know its origin, but I sure like it. It's exactly the kind of tower I'd craft if I was so weak that I needed one." Zagran the Garuda said with a huge grin on her face.

"Even while we are talking, it's growing stronger. It changes and adapts to the environment to better support its master. If it keeps like this, one day it might match Menadion's tower, if not even surpass it."

Those words left Baba Yaga dumbstruck. Back when she had been Zagran's priestess and apprentice, the Blood Mother had soon learned that the Guardian would rarely make a compliment even to her peers, let alone to those who she considered inferiors.

"Why do you use Menadion's craft as a benchmark instead of mine? Ripha built her tower with outdated runes and Forgemastering techniques whereas I upgraded mine over the centuries with cutting edge magic." Baba Yaga could ignore the remarks of the ignorant, but not those of the Guardians.

"And yet yours is still inferior." Fenagar shook his head, while thinking back at all the amazing features of the lost artifact. "Not because your tower lacks power so much because you keep spreading your resources too thin.

"Menadion crafted her tower as the perfect lab and invested all of her resources on making it impregnable. You, instead, have created your tower as a means to offer your children a safe environment, with entire biomes inside to not make them feel like prisoners."

"All the energy that it wastes on commodities, Menadion's tower used it to grow her own crystals, to collect veins of rare metals, and even to farm her own natural treasures. She didn't waste world energy in playgrounds and sunsets."

"Taking care of your children is a commendable endeavor, Yaga." Zagran said, shocking all those present with the second compliment of that century so close to the first. "With your talent, skill, and heart, you should have become a Guardian."

"To what end?" The Blood Mother said with a scoff. "To be stuck in a continent far away from my own, without the possibility to get in touch with those I care for because my ego wouldn't allow me to coexist with any of you?

"To be forced to spectate you slaughter my people without being able to do anything? We've never fought seriously against each other so I've got no idea how powerful my white core makes me compared to a Guardian, but I know that it makes me free.

"Free to go wherever I want whenever I want. Free to save whoever I want, even those that the rest of Mogar knew as the accursed Odi, my people. There's a good reason why no race but beasts ever accepted to become Guardians.

"Mogar has no qualms killing her so-called chosen ones the moment they fail her and then burdens them with cruel tasks for the rest of eternity. Only a few of us managed to acquire a white core and escape her grasp, while only death awaited those who didn't bend the knee.

"That's why I created the undead. To give everyone the possibility to live forever, free from all constrictions, be they made by men, beasts, or even Mogar itself." Baba Yaga still remembered when Mogar had appeared to her under the guise of a female slave like those that her people were so quick to kill and replace like toys.

She had left the Odi because she couldn't tolerate a society that imposed impossible standards of beauty, power, and intelligence on its members.