At the same time as the trio started his journey towards Oto, Janardan received a strange missive. Had it not been for the recent events, he would have immediately dismissed it as an elaborate prank and severely chewed out the messenger. Even so, it was too great a claim to believe.

Speaking of the messenger, up until now, he had considered him a comrade among others, not one of great talent, but at the very least committed to the cause. “For all those years, you’ve been spying on us.”

The man addressed a cynical smile to his former boss. “I chose the path I had most hope in, and I turned out so much better than I could for.”

“So, you really believe this crap? About the sender being the death lord reincarnate?” The lords had been powerful beings, all right. If the legends were to be believed; the extent of their power made it doubtful that they’d been human at all… if. “Why now of all times?”

“It’s because it is now, that they had to bring her back, have you heard of the necromancer king?”

“Yet another weird title? What is this one’s deal? Is he the reincarnation of the tooth fairy, leading his army of undead tooth robbing mice for revenge against the life mages and their evil practice of dental care?”

“Mock me if you want, but you ‘d only need to see her to believe.”

The old mage laughed mockingly “It’s not as convincing an argument as you’d think, you know? There’s brainwashing and all this kind of crap, right?”

It wasn’t like the messenger couldn’t see where his former colleague was coming from, he himself hadn’t been much of a believer… until her resurrection. Her strength was immeasurable, her knowledge unfathomable and determination, immovable. What he saw was no fake, mere puppet brandished by some mad cultist: they had set to liberate the world from the curses of the dead and bring back the death lord, and they’d done just that.

“Please, this necromancer king is no joke, he’s got at least fifteen thousand wights under his command. You, who have inherited the ancient tradition, should know more than anyone else what it truly means.”

“Fifteen thousand?!” Disbelief and fear were written on his face. “That can’t be, no one’s strong enough to do that! Even the death lord themselves never had more than a hundred… what the hell is he doing with them.”

“Conquest and policing, they are in every city, every fort. Also, according to her majesty, creating any number of them is easy, controlling them is not. They are mindless weapons, obeying orders to the letter without real understanding. One bad order, and you’re unleashing a tireless monster upon the world.”

This description didn’t fit exactly what Janardan had learned, some wights supposedly held intelligence. According to the legend, the life lord had become one of his own accord and fought all throughout the war… maybe even after. “According to they legend, the life lord…”

He was cut short. “Died not so long ago, all so he could bring back her majesty faster. That alone shows how much he feared this necromancer king’s action.”

“You’re telling me he’s been alive for centuries and hasn’t done anything to deal with this damn mess? If he’d spoken up earlier, we could have reconciled with Aether! If he was the real, then he was a bloody incompetent, a freaking useless bastard…”

The insults didn’t stop for a long time, but the messenger couldn’t get a word in edgewise. He had to wait until the old mage had run out of insults to finally explain. “Most of his people turned their back on him when he became a wight, they wouldn’t have listened to him; in their mind he was nothing but a puppet.”

“Fine! I’ll met than woman, but any trickery and you’ll find yourself one leader short.”

“Thank you, Janardan! I swear you won’t regret it. I told them you weren’t the trusting type, you’re free to decide the method, time and place.”

The messenger smiled, but the old mage, being untrusting by nature, worried even more.