"Let me get this straight, Captain Xertris," Zoglon said to the captain kneeling before him. "We have the human mages huddled in a tiny little corner, bordering on collapse. Brannath slew the Head Mage, the most powerful magician in the kingdom. A hundred or so loyal soldiers have sacrificed their lives to exhaust those mages' magical and physical energies. Now you tell me that they are still fighting back just as hard as before? How is that possible?" With each word the captain's head grew damper with spittle. Captain Xertris nodded and stood up, coming to his full height of seven feet - over a foot taller than the king. Despite the disparity, his body quivered. As he opened his mouth to speak, Zolgon reached up and pressed a claw against his lips. "Think carefully before speaking your next words Xertis. They may be your last."

Xertis swallowed his saliva, took a deep breath, and spoke: "When the moon broke and our men lost themselves, we obliterated every last statue, and most of the elementals. It is true that the mages are on death's door. They should have tried to retreat further or flee. I don't see a reason to keep pressing them. If you could allow us more time to let them exhaust themselves, we could prevent further casualties."

"So you fear casualties," Zolgon said, while tilting his head to the side. "Is that fear yours alone or the consensus among your men?"

Xertis bit his lip. "I do not fear casualties, your highness. I fear hasty action. If we could allow the flanking force a little more time-"

"Just kill the mages," Zolgon cut him off. "It's not hard. Your king demands it." Without looking he extended his hand and a dart of black aura whistled across the room, piercing into the head of a mage. The victim was dead before he hit the ground.

The black aura whistled back into Zolgon's palm, dragging the corpse into his clutches. He threw the body at the captain's feet. "Just like that, I've killed one of those "difficult" mages. Do I need to demonstrate that again, captain?" He asked.

"That is unnecessary, sire," Xertris said, bordering on begging. "I merely request a reason as to your hurry. There should be no back-up to save the mages. The rebels should be enough to wipe out the knights," he gestured to the knight's academy along the distant horizon. "The mages are expending their resources faster than they can replenish them. General Finlish has left for another section of the kingdom. The War Monks are in Vilbar. If we may stall until our flanking squadrons get into position, we can annihilate the mages with minimal losses. What is your reason, your highness? I cannot inspire my men without one."

Zolgon reached for Xertis's head but upon seeing the resolve within his gaze, hesitated. "Who is your second in command?"

"I was the second in command." Xertris said. "The former captain went to flank the mages, leaving me - his right hand man - to lead the charge."

"Understood," Zolgon said before putting a hand on Xertis's shoulder. "As for your reason, work without it. If the warriors are disobedient then make an example. If you fail, I'll gut you. Is there anything else to report, maybe something that won't add to my headache?" Xertis hesitated. "What is it?" Zolgon said through clenched teeth.

"We can take care of the mages without my captain's help, it's just that...the hero might continue to be a problem."

"Of fucking couse he's a problem," Zolgon said.

Xertis continued: "You banned us from getting too close to him. He's costing us many casualties. I suggest that we concentrate our forces around him and take him down. The mages will lose their symbol of hope. Their morale will crumble."

"Denied," Zolgon responded. "You cannot kill the hero because he is the hero. He will take your souls, your physical energy, and if you have mana he'll take that too. Only I can kill him. It's not that hard a concept. If we could get into this fucking vault things would be different because then all of you incompetent idiots could kill the hero. Draken really shouldn't have mapped out all his legacies." He walked over to the statue of Maximus Draken and kicked it, resulting in a chipped toenail. A complex enchantment spread out from the statue's base, flashed, and vanished.

Xertris went wide eyed. "Sire that's...unbelievable. You could make an army to take down the hero."

Zolgon furrowed his brow and resisted the urge to kill the fool before him. 'Why would I need an army for something I can do myself?' He threw away the thought as it only worsened his headache. He glanced over his shoulder as a collection of screams rang out from the northern end of the mess hall. 'I could have sworn that I heard…' He rubbed his chin and, upon waiting a few moments, turned his attention back to the captain. "The mages are on their last legs. Kill them all. Use normal chains or ropes to bind the hero without getting too close. Find the key to the vault and bring it to me. Now go!"

The captain blinked twice, likely holding back another idiotic argument, and turning around. He barked out orders to his men as he took to the air.

"Sire," another nagging voice called from him. "You may not need the key," Zolgon looked down to face one of eight elder Shamans around the statue of Maximus Draken. The defensive enchantment entered a cycle of appearing and disappearing. Each instance of the complex enchantment differed from the previous with one exception, a single crack along its edge. "If we succeed, you don't have to bother bloodying your hands to search for it. Their withdrawal was a great mistake. They have too much faith in their legacy." Zolgon gave a slight smirk, which vanished as one of his pointed ears twitched. "Sire?"

"Wait." Zolgon said before glancing over his shoulder. His gaze lingered on the reserve warriors entering from the northern side. "Repeat what you said."

"We don't have to bother searching for the key. We can let the mages go. As my master said, it's not good to go after a cornered animal." The shaman froze, eyes widening.

Black aura flashed around Zolgon and the single crack within the defensive enchantment became six. "I know your master said it often. Brannath often said the same thing to me." His hands opened and closed as his aura faded. "We aren't letting a single one escape. I don't care what happens to you disposable peons. How long until you can bypass the enchantment?"

"Six minutes." The answer was given immediately.

"Six minutes?" Zolgon repeated.

"W-we were trained well," the shaman hesitated. "Even if this enchantment was made by the greatest mage in the world, it's not foolproof. It has weakened over time."

"Good," Zolgon said, glaring at the group of enemy mages. "So it's a race. I doubt they'll last that long without backup." His left eye twitched. "Without backup, they won't last long," he repeated. A shrill cry caused him to tilt his head upwards. A chill ran through his body, as if memories from a distant past entered his mind. He cleared his throat and turned around as a squad leader dashed over and knelt before him. "What is it now?"

The squad leader's face was completely pale. He held onto a deep gash in his shoulder. "Mighty king," he blurted out. "Our reserve squadrons have encountered enemies but it's...strange."

"Go on," Zolgon said, his gaze solely focused on the northern mess hall.

"We are being attacked by Undead, sir. The pattern is just as one of the previous Demon Kings warned, when our lands fell to ruin. We think it's him."

"The Forbidden One," the words spilled out of Zolgon's lips. Those within earshot shuttered at the name, given to the Lich who once imprisoned a previous Demon King. After the ignorant Demon King had stormed into the Lich's library, demanding the Forbidden One to serve his dark forces, he vanished. A month passed before he was thrown out, practically on death's door.

"Shall I call the captain back here?" one of the shamans asked.

Zolgon bit his claw and his lips curled into a grin. "No. We can't ignore the mages. It seems our own strategy has been turned against us. We're the ones being flanked." He chuckled. 'Well played, Forbidden One,' he thought. "Go tell the captain to just stall the mages while the shamans break the enchantment. The tides may have turned but if we can escape before we drown, we win." He reached into his spatial ring, drew a gold and black greatsword, and took a deep breath. Copper life essence and mana surged around his well trained body. "Now, time to avenge my guardian."