Elin fumed.

"I'm not saying you're wrong, but maybe the prince is making a solid point?"

"There is no way," Elin clenched her teeth, "that what he said makes sense, Walter. The nobility will not protect you. They will betray you the moment they can find a profit to do so."

"From a strategic standpoint--"

She hissed like a snake. "Strategy be damned! They're only strategic insofar as it serves them! If they cared, then Camp Wolf wouldn't be the sorry state it's in now! They deserve to bleed a little for their complacency."

The prince stomped out after Elin denied his orders, so Walter and Elin sat in an otherwise empty meeting room.

She watched Walter stare at the map table. His eyes flickered between the replica of Camp Wolf and the numerous figurines representing the Rangville invaders. Reports placed them halfway to Camp Bear, and, once they staged there, they would begin their assault on Camp Wolf. With the quarantine line broken, the undead would flow into Wilmand Kingdom.

Before he left, Prince Wilhelm explained their advantage: Rangville did not understand how strong Walter was. The Rangville Empire would employ a hammer-and-anvil assault. First, Rangville's infantry would circumnavigate Camp Wolf's frontline and attack laterally, and, secondly, they would harass with a mobile cavalry utilizing hit-and-run tactics. No matter which unit Elin fought against, the other could inflict irreparable harm on Camp Wolf. However, if both Walter and Elin supported independently, the siege would be stalemated. Monster pressure from the Necropolis would force Rangville's withdrawal, and the quarantine would be secured.

"There's no guarantee they're unaware of you, as well," Elin said, "If they are, then they will attempt an assassination. The prince's assessment is an easy-fix to the nobility's lack of resolve."

Walter didn't look at her. "If we don't split, then a lot of people will die, probably."

"Walter, the same argument is made for arranged marriages."

"Oh."

Elin breathed out a sigh of relief because he relented.

"Then, let's try the reverse card," he said.

Camp Bear's stout defenses, square level stone walls, defied the Necropolis. The morning mist shrouded it. Soldiers inside the camp slept soundly, unlike Camp Wolf, as no undead ever breached their defenses.

Unlike the neglect suffered in Camp Wolf, Camp Bear suffered from a complacency of safety. The hour of the changing-of-the-guard passed, and yawning soldiers greeted each other in passing.

Sister Lora, armored as her 'Viper' persona, tossed a grappling hook and scaled the outer wall with an acrobatic prowess. Seconds later, she buried her dagger into the kidney of an unaware man, looking inward instead of outward. He tried to scream, but the pain and shock seized his diaphragm, and she gagged him with her hand, regardless.

Sister Lora selected this man, and this spot on the wall, to breach because of its isolated nature. The rope ladder on her back soon unrolled, and men from the Gruesome Hatchet mercenary group followed her.

Ragnar scaled first, followed by Lady Elin and Sir Walter. Sir Walter stared at the dead man.

Moments later, the invaders breached the walls and secured the tower.

Sister Lora put a hand on Sir Walter's upper arm, "There's still time to turn back."

Sir Walter didn't look away from the corpse, with its lifeless eyes and face twisted in agony. Sister Lora didn't hide the man to show Sir Walter their imminent actions. If he continued, then he would have to take lives. Sister Lora and Lady Elin both understood, without holding the conversation, that Sir Walter never fought before.

Both women waited for his answer.

"No," he said, "This was my idea. I'm not turning away now."

A score of mercenaries from the Gruesome Hatchet climbed, along with dozens of Royal Spellswords.

Walter eyed Sister Lora as she half-crouched-half-sprinted across the wall. Gruesome Hatchet mercenaries, he didn't understand the name since none of them used hatchets, rushed south.

Their goal was to take Camp Bear by surprise and convert it into a military asset before the arrival of the Rangville army. Without a foothold, Rangville exposed themselves to the Necropolis dungeon cluster.

When I cast this spell, there's no turning back.

The soldiers at Camp Bear did not know they were going to die this morning. Technically, they weren't an immediate threat to Walter's life, and Sister Lora correctly stated he could leave. But, if he did so, then Elin would escort him to safety, and the mercenaries would lose their overwatch. More importantly, he accepted responsibility for Sister Lora's safety.

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Ten glowing orbs streaked from in front of him to the opposite wall. The archers posted there, bleary-eyed, wouldn't turn around in time. If they did, then it wouldn't change the result. Magic Missile did not miss unless something blocked the projectile, because it automatically changed course to reach its target. The moment hung in the air for Walter.

He could, theoretically, still not kill the soldiers, even now. Reasserting control over the missiles isn't impossible, and he could redirect them into harmless targets. Walter willfully waited for it to finish.

The cracks exploded in succession. Some of the archers died outright and crumpled. One screamed, lost his balance, and tripped off the wall. The sensation haunted him as he watched lives snuff out.

I've crossed a line. Why does my mouth taste like metal?

Walter recast the spell, twice more.

Thirty men. In seconds. I can't see which ones died. They're not going to breathe again, or joke, or tell their wives they love them. No, this is too much. Who am I to decide who lives and dies?

His breath hyperventilated as he cast again. Forty men, forever gone. No matter how quickly Sister Lora sprinted, no matter how fast her blade flashed, she could not deliver death as efficiently or unfairly as Walter. Some died without knowing it was even him. What if I learned a deadlier spell than Magic Missile, like 'Declare Death,' or, 'Tiltowait?' Can I use such magic? Should I?

"What the fuck did I just do?" He severed his ties with humanity, and he crossed the line into monstrousness. There could never be a return--

Elin grasped his wrist, "I'm still here."

Walter's breathing resumed a healthy pace.

It had to be the same for her. No, she started as a child. It had to be worse.

He nodded. "I'm here, too."

Walter followed Elin as she trailed behind the mercenaries. Swordsmen that charged at her suffered a horrible slash, cleaved through metal and meat. An enemy archer surmised Walter's role and attempted to snipe him. Elin bared her teeth and slapped the arrow from the air with the flat of her blade, and Walter, his face taut and grim, returned fire.

The gatehouse fell in mere minutes. Elin grabbed the winch to the portcullis and cranked it open.

Camp Bear fell to Wilmand Kingdom's control in under fifteen minutes. Camp Bear's commander officially surrendered before the army arrived.