"Come on, Sam," Rafael's voice urged in his mind. "Let's show him what we're made of."With a determined expression, Sam braced himself for the battle to come. The storm raged around them, the chaotic energy crackling in the air. The clash of archmages was about to begin, and this would shake the Blighted Plain.Sam and Welzon faced each other in the turbulent sky, their eyes locked in a fierce gaze. With a roar, they launched themselves into battle. Spells and magic flew through the air as they clashed. Sam conjured dark fireballs, hurling them at Welzon, who deftly dodged and retaliated with chaotic energy blasts. They flew around each other, dodging and weaving as they tried to find an opening.Thorns, sharp and twisted from the curved rocks, coiled through the air, trying to ensnare Sam. He slashed through them with his red glowing sword, the blade cutting through the thorns with ease. Vortexes of wind and flame swirled around them, colliding and exploding in bursts of energy. Rock
The chaos began to subside, the storm's fury giving way to a steady downpour. The once roaring tempest now dissolved into the gentle patter of rain, washing away the debris and cooling the scorched earth. The battlefield, marred by their intense clash, was eerily serene under the dark, rain-laden sky. Sam stood over Welzon, his red glowing sword aimed at his fallen adversary's throat. The rain drenched them both, plastering their hair on their faces and soaking their clothes. Welzon lay pinned by the binds of the earth-controlling ring, his once formidable aura now subdued. Sam's breath was heavy, his chest rising and falling with each exhale, steam mixing with the falling rain. "Your last words," Sam said, his voice cutting through the sound of the rain. Welzon's eyes, once filled with madness, were now calm, almost resigned. He blinked through the raindrops, a frown forming on his lips. "Make it quick," he said, his voice carrying no hint of his previous ferocity. Sam's brow furr
Welzon shook his head slowly. "I only found more questions. The chaotic energy and the multitude of dead spirits here are driving me crazier by the day.""Other than during the fight, you seem quite sane for someone who’s supposed to be mad," Sam noted, studying Welzon's expression for any signs of deceit.Welzon sighed, a weary sound that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. "I use the local villagers," he admitted. "By helping them occasionally, I can keep my sanity."Sam couldn’t detect any lies or attempts at deception in Welzon’s words. He sensed a deep, almost painful truth in them. "Maybe your initial intention was just for your own benefit, to keep your sanity. But it’s clear that after being here for so long and helping the villagers frequently, you’ve grown close to them and genuinely care about them."Welzon's face twisted into a grimace. "I’m haunted by the spirits of their families who constantly ask for my help. I have no choice," he said."Of course, you’re forced,"
As they trudged through the muddy terrain, Welzon muttered again, “Let me down!”Sam only tightened his grip. “Nope. You’re stuck with me.”The sky was unusually clear for the Blighted Plain, and the sun shone brightly, casting an almost ethereal light on the desolate landscape. Sam carried the grumbling Welzon, their bickering echoing through the vast emptiness as they made their way back to Ashen Hearth Village.After a while, Welzon calmed down, and Sam walked without a word either. But suddenly Welzon's voice broke the relative silence. “Sam, do you want to know about the mastermind behind Friedo's death?”Sam adjusted his grip on the old man. “Tell me.”Welzon sighed, his breath shallow. “I can't say the name directly because of a binding curse that forbids us to expose each other. But I can say for sure that the person behind all this… he is connected to the church and also close to a powerful warlock.”Sam chuckled. "People from the church who are close to the warlock they hate?
The sun had just begun to rise, casting long shadows across the quiet town. Sam and Lyra were preparing to leave the small inn where they had spent the night, hoping for a moment's peace after their ordeal in the blighted plain. However, their hopes were shattered as they stepped outside to find a group of holy knights and priests waiting for them."Your appearance is similar to a wanted warlock," one of the knights said, stepping forward with a stern expression.Sam raised an eyebrow, keeping his voice calm and measured. "You've got the wrong person.""There’s no way we got it wrong," another priest interjected, his eyes narrowing. "The person behind you is Lyra Flammenherz, right?"Lyra stiffened beside Sam, her grip tightening on his arm.“Did he use a spell to charm her?” another priest suggested, looking at Sam with suspicion.Sam scoffed. “You suspect me of using magic to control my own wife? That's preposterous.”“We have also heard news of strange happenings in the blighted pl
The pair continued to walk, the early morning sun climbed higher, casting a warm glow over the tranquil wilderness. Birds chirped cheerily in the distance, a stark contrast to the tension that had filled their lives recently."By the way, Lyra, why didn't you just fly or help me fight them there?" Sam asked, his tone curious.Lyra shot him an exasperated look. "I'm trying to hide my power from them, but you instead screamed my name in front of their faces!" she scolded.Sam chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, sorry about that."Lyra sighed, shaking her head. "But I think now they have confirmed that you are that ‘wanted warlock’ and I’m Lyra Flammenherz. Next time, they won’t stop to ask us again.”"That’s true," Sam agreed, scratching his chin."So, I guess I don’t need to hold back either," Lyra said."I’m eager to get your help beating those church people," Sam said with a tone of amusement.“Unlike you, I get no delight in such things, Sam. I just want to help you.”“Really? Even though you
The man grinned widely, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, well, well. It seems I have found some interesting company indeed. What brings you to our humble caravan?"Sam and Lyra exchanged wary glances. Who was this strange man, and what did he want with them? The answers, it seemed, would have to wait. For now, they were thrust into another mystery.“Good day to you,” Sam replied cautiously. “And who might you be?”The man’s monocle glinted in the sunlight as he looked them over. “"I am Barnabas, the humble proprietor of this magnificent caravan. We are but simple traders, traveling from town to town, bringing joy and goods to all we encounter."Lyra stood as well, her curiosity overcoming her initial wariness. “What brings you to us, Sir Barnabas?”Barnabas stroked his mustache, a knowing smile on his lips. “Oh, I have a keen eye for intriguing individuals. And you two... seem like quite an interesting pair.”Sam and Lyra exchanged another quick glance, their interest growing
Sam and Lyra, despite their wariness, accepted Barnabas's offer. They spent more time with the caravan, observing and assisting the members. The initial suspicion began to wane as they saw firsthand the camaraderie and genuine concern Barnabas had for his people.One evening, Barnabas shared his story with Sam and Lyra around the campfire. "I know what it's like to be an orphan," he said, his eyes reflecting the flickering flames. "I was lucky enough to be taken in by kind souls who gave me a chance. Now, I try to do the same for others."Sam began to understood him better. Barnabas himself, a former orphan, had a personal stake in helping those in need. He revealed that half of his caravan consisted of orphans or impoverished individuals whom he had given a chance for a better future.Sam listened intently, still cautious but slowly finding a sense of trust in the merchant lord. "It's a noble cause, Barnabas. I’ll help this cause. But we have to stay vigilant. The church won't stop h