Vera thought she could feel the earth rumble softly under her feet as she watched the river of soldiers marching through the valley below. She wouldn’t be leaving yet — for an army of this size, even just breaking camp was an affair that took hours, but Vera stood and watched, still. She had been privy to this sight every day since the campaign had started, and she believed she owed them this much, at least. To be a witness for their acts — so that if they fell in this crusade against the Dark Lord, at least their memory would remain honored in the annals of history.

Officially, it had been the Holy Conclave that had called for this crusade, but everyone in the encampment knew she had been the one who pushed for it to happen.

Because she had to, no matter how much her fellow faithful had protested. High Priestess though she was, she had only been appointed to the role barely a year past. The High Priests of the other gods had thought her too inexperienced to make these kinds of decisions, but in the end, they had had no choice to concede. Her goddess, Saira, was chief among the pantheon, which gave Vera’s words a weight she wouldn’t have dreamed of otherwise.

“High Priestess,” a voice said from behind, one Vera was unfortunate enough to know intimately by now. She grimaced in distaste at the unwelcome interruption.

“Priest Graham,” she greeted in return, schooling her face before turning to the old man. “Is there something I can help you with?” she asked curtly, inwardly hoping Graham would leave her alone this time.

Her prayers went unanswered, and Graham moved to stand beside her, taking a long look towards the valley. Much like herself, Graham had joined her on her little morning custom every day without fail, and she’d long given up on trying to detract him. It was, at this point, a well-practiced ritual, the same words flowing through the grooves carved by the ceaseless repetition.

“Please call off the crusade,” he said softly, yet his words reverberated atop the hill. That she knew what he would say did not make Vera’s reply any easier.

“I cannot,” she said, her voice tight as she prepared to repeat what had become a mantra to her. “’The Dark Lord must be stopped lest doom befall the whole world.’ Lady Saira’s words were clear. The crusade must go on.” It left unsaid that it was all but impossible, at this point. She’d all but promised Canneria on a platter when she had pleaded for the Empire’s assistance. Even if she were to call the crusade to a halt, its generals would ensure it kept going.

“The goddess’s words were contingent on the Heroes being present,” Graham said, and Vera knew his argument was sound. Many had same the same when they had tried to dissuade her, but they’d all eventually conceded. All but one.

“That borders on heresy, Priest Graham. Do you doubt the goddess’s words?” she asked, thought the question was a formality by now. They all doubted the goddess’s words, even Vera. A crusade without Heroes was folly in her mind. But did they dare go against the goddess’s instructions? She could not, and so the crusade marched on.

“I would not dare doubt the wisdom of Lady Saira,” Graham said placatingly. “What I doubt is the fiber of mankind. The Heroes were clearly summoned, of that there is no doubt. Yet they are not here to do their duty. It is their failing that puts the crusade on precipitous ground.”

Vera gingerly touched the carved amulet hidden in her sleeve pocket, carefully tracing its edges with her fingers. “She would have spoken — any of the gods would have spoken — if the Heroes were to make or break the crusade.” She clutched at the small artifact, feeling the strange energy humming beneath its surface. “We have everything that we need to defeat an upstart Villain.”

Graham frowned as he always did. “And yet, the histories are clear. Never once has a Villain been defeated by anyone other than a Hero.”

“And that is the crux of the issue. We don’t need to defeat him — at least, not permanently. We only need to keep him from gaining momentum, to keep him confined to his tiny corner of the world. These Heroes may have been a failure, but there will be more. We merely need to hold on.”

Graham lowered his gaze, glancing towards Vera’s navel where her hands rested. “And are you that certain of your trinket? Certain enough that you’d be willing to send these people to their deaths, should you be wrong?”

Vera let the energy coursing through the artifact soothe her nerves. “It will have to. Even if we lose, it should buy us enough time.”

Graham sent her a pitying look. “For all our sakes, I hope you are right.”

Silence stretched as Vera and Graham watched the procession moving steadily through the valley. As the first rays of the sun peeked above the hills, the encampment behind them grew more and more animated.

“If I’m wrong…,” Vera said, and Graham looked at her in alarm — it was the first deviation from their routine since the very first day. Vera coughed to clear her voice and tried again. “If I’m wrong, I will be right there at the front of it. I will be the first to die. Please do not doubt my resolve,” she said, her voice cracking at the end.

Graham’s gaze grew soft, and his lips curled into a tight smile. “Your resolve has never been in doubt, High Priestess,” he said. “If anything, you have been exemplary in your role.”

“Then why do I feel so guilty?”

“This will sound like blasphemy to you,” Graham said, and Vera looked at him in alarm, “but it’s something each of the faithful learns, eventually. For one to be appointed High Priestess at such a young age, it’s no wonder you haven’t realized it yet.”

“What is it?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper in the wind.

“The gods… they don’t really concern themselves with us. They’ll share some of their power, and answer some prayers every now and then, but they have their own lives up there in the Celestial Realm.”

Vera’s lips tightened. She knew the wisdom she’d received from her goddess had been sparse, but to hear it said like that…

Whatever reservations she might have had faded as she remembered the goddess’s warning.

“The crusade will go on,” Vera declared for what would likely be the final time. Moments later, bells rang behind them, and the Conclave began their descent from their hill, following in the tracks of the 42nd Holy Crusade.

Some hours later, three figures stood on that very hill and watched the tail-end of the crusade as it blipped past the horizon. A tense atmosphere surrounded them as they shared uneasy glances, but none wanted to be the first to speak. Finally, the eldest of them, who’d become something of an unofficial leader in the past months, was the one to break the silence.

“It could be any—” Alexis said, her voice creaking from disuse. She cleared her throat and squinted at the horizon before trying again. “It could be any time now,” she said again, much more decisively this time, “at least, I think. We’re well past the border.” She glanced around at the idyllic hills of the Cannerian countryside. She didn’t think it looked at all different from what they’d had in Rhinia, but her Ranger class had given her a very convenient skill in the form of Bag of Tricks. She could easily pinpoint their exact location on the map without needing to think twice about it.

The only unknown variable in this equation was where they’d find the Dark Lord, but she could feel it in her bones that it wouldn’t be long. Another day, maybe even less. The anticipation made her skin crawl.

David grunted in acknowledgment, but Cameron wore a concerned frown on his face. “What will we do, then? If we remain this far behind, we’ll probably arrive too late to the fighting.”

“We should all be able to move much faster than the crusade,” David said as he looked at Cameron askance, who nodded in confirmation. “So, maybe we should go past them and prepare to ambush… you know who.”

A collective shudder went through the group at the Dark Lord’s mention. The feeling of discomfort was muted when they spoke about him in vague terms, but it still resembled worms crawling under their skin.

“No way,” Cameron said once he composed himself. “I’ll bet you anything they have something they think they can use against him,” he said, pausing as the squirming hit him. They had all taken turns to scout around the crusader encampments to try and figure out their plans, but they had come up short. “I want to wait for them to make the first move.”

“Right, your mystery magical nuke theory,” David said, his raised eyebrows making his opinion on the matter clear. “I don’t think that’s reason enough to lose maybe hours of the fighting.”

“There has to be something. They made it clear that Heroes aren’t optional — and then they just went and started an attack without us? It doesn’t add up unless they have an ace up their sleeve,” Cameron said with uncharacteristic fire in his voice. Alexis tilted her head thoughtfully — she didn’t think she’d seen him talk back before.

“We can’t get caught up in ‘maybes’ and ‘what ifs,’” David retorted with a roll of his eyes, “we have a job to do, and if we miss the window of opportunity, we’re as good as done for.” His voice sounded frantic, and Alexis suddenly felt the urge to run ahead of the crusade and just kill that monster.

‘Two, three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen…’ she counted in her mind, trying to bring clarity back to herself. The haze was getting worse, trying to hook its claws into her mind, but she’d gotten better at recognizing the intrusion. She wondered what it would have been like if she hadn’t dinged 40 and unlocked the Bag of Tricks. It gave her a plethora of small buffs, but so far a single one of them had been worth its weight in gold. Hunter’s Clarity, it was called, and it increased her resistance to mind-controlling or mind-impairing effects. The few points she’d put into Will must have helped, too.

“You’re being overly dramatic,” Alexis said once she was calm, startling the two boys. “The window of opportunity is bigger than just the start of the fighting. Being cautious can’t hurt.”

“Whatever,” David said with a sigh. “But still — I don’t get why they even need Heroes or a magic nuke. With how much manpower they’re bringing, they should be able to just straight-up bury the guy.”

“Maybe,” Alexis conceded. “Pound for pound, they should definitely have it in the bag, but they’re all treating it like they don’t.”

“It could be just superstition,” Cameron suggested, though Alexis was certain he didn’t believe his own words. “Like, they just got so used to needing Heroes to deal with Villains that they don’t think they can do it without us.”

Alexis shook her head. “I’m sure the gods would have cleared that up if it was true. Or at least, they wouldn’t have summoned us.”

“Maybe they’re trying to build a narrative. Make the people think it’s only those picked by the gods who can defeat the bad guys, even though in reality the villains are just random blokes and boom! Instant worship,” David said, and Alexis braced herself for the haze to return in full force — and then it didn’t.

Alexis’s eyes went wide. She thought she had had it figured out — any mention of that guy always triggered the haze, but then why didn’t outright blasphemy?

“Did my theory blow your mind that hard?” David asked, looking mildly concerned.

Alexis waved it away. “No, I was just thinking about something else. It’s not important,” she said, trying to downplay the revelation. She couldn’t share it, not yet. She didn’t know how much power the haze held, and she didn’t want to risk the silver of freedom she’d found. “There might be some truth to that, though, but I wouldn’t say Villains are random blokes. Isn’t this guy an Archmage?”

“Yes,” Cameron said as he nodded enthusiastically. Leave it to him to fanboy over their designated enemy. “But even so, the Rhinian crusaders have mages among their ranks. Not sure if they have any Archmages, but still, enough that they should have him countered.”

“And yet they don’t think they have it in the bag,” Alexis added with a whisper.

“Yup,” Cameron said, and even David nodded begrudgingly.

“We’ll wait for the crusade to initiate, then,” Alexis decided. And now, let’s hope I haven’t doomed us.