"You're still the same as before..." Inham shook his head slightly, the warmth in his eyes fading as he turned and walked toward the place where the gargoyles were kept. This was his final glance at the past, a farewell to all the tenderness of twenty years ago.
No matter how beautiful something once was, what is lost is lost forever. Likewise, no matter how cruel the future may be, it is coming regardless. Nobody can change it, and one must face it as it comes.
"Stop!" Vadenina's voice suddenly sharpened. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Sorry. I have something important to do. If I ever get the chance, I'll listen to you again... Goodbye." Without looking back, Inham quickened his pace.
"I said stop!" Vadenina waved her hand, and a wall of green flames shot up from the ground, nearly grazing Inham's toes as it roared skyward.
Inham frowned and halted.
Sandru neither spoke nor moved. He didn't seem inclined to stop Inham from leaving. His face remained as grim as ever, but the murderous rage had faded. He simply watched coldly as the two confronted each other.
"What's wrong? Does my speech make you so uncomfortable that you have to run away?"
"I'm not running. I simply have something to do."
"What can you possibly do? Haven't you realized by now that everything is dictated by fate, and your actions are meaningless?"
"If you believe it's all meaningless, then why bother stopping me?"
"Do you really think there's hope?"
"Maybe a one in a million chance."
"You're clinging to such a tiny possibility? You remind me of a mad gambler."
"You know I never gamble. I only do what I believe must be done. Even the slimmest chance is still a chance. If I don't act, then even that one-in-a-million chance won't exist."
After a brief silence, Vadenina spoke slowly, "There are things I must say to you now because I may never have the chance again."
"Oh?" Inham was slightly surprised. "Go ahead."
"Do you know? You are weak. You have always been, from the past until now. Your talent and intellect are second to none, yet in the end, you are still a failure—because you are weak."
Inham let out a soft sigh and shook his head slightly.
"Don't deny it. Think for yourself—what have you truly dedicated yourself to in the past twenty years? Wandering aimlessly through mountains and rivers? Wasting time with the countless lovers you have scattered across the continent? If you had focused all your energy on one goal, you wouldn't be where you are now. Whether it was dedicating yourself to the mastery of magic or striving for greater power and influence, you could have gained enough strength to face what was coming. Perhaps you might have even had a sliver of hope to slow down the gears of fate. But you didn't. The moment you refused to face fate, you sealed your own destiny—you were bound to live your life in weakness, running away, waiting to be crushed by the relentless gears of time and fate. You refused to submit, yet you lacked the determination and perseverance to fight against fate. The moment you chose to escape it, your fate was already decided."
"Is this supposed to be a lesson for me? Thanks." Inham gave a bitter smile, raising his hand to point at the towering green flames. With a slight motion, the flames split apart, creating a path. But just as he was about to step forward, an even fiercer blaze surged up, instantly sealing the gap.
"I'm not finished talking. Don't you know how to respect others?" The flames in the lich's eye sockets flared even brighter.
"I already understand everything you're saying. There's no need to repeat it," Inham replied flatly.
"What I can't stand the most is your attitude—the way you pretend to be so wise and indifferent, even when you know you're wrong, but still refuse to admit it."
"You're not upset because I'm pretending—you're upset because you can't stand your own weakness." Inham turned to look at Vadenina, his eyes now completely clear, devoid of any hesitation or nostalgia. "Don't force me to say this. These are words I've always wanted to tell you, but I knew you wouldn't want to hear them."
"Weak? Me?" The lich's voice suddenly changed, as if a thousand cracked gongs had been struck at once, shattering completely. The flames in her eye sockets flared so fiercely they nearly burst out. Though her skeletal face remained expressionless, her agitation was unmistakable. Whether she found it laughable or infuriating, however, was impossible to tell. "I abandoned such a beautiful body, gave up everything that countless people could only dream of, and accomplished a magical feat even Akibard couldn't achieve—I transformed into a lich. And yet you call me weak? I stood atop the wheels of fate and pushed them forward. Even the combined power of the entire continent couldn't stop me. And you call me weak?"
"Weakness is a woman's right… Of course, so is stubbornness," Inham said with a faint smile.
"Spare me," Vadenina scoffed coldly. "You're nothing but a failure. Since our days at the magic academy, in what aspect have you ever surpassed me? Even now, how do you compare to me?"
"I admit it—whether it's understanding magic, debating theology, or actual combat, I've never been able to match you. And looking at things now, yes, you've won. But victory and weakness are not opposites. Strength in ability does not equate to strength of heart. The weaker a person is, the more they crave victory to prove themselves."
"Victory is victory. Failure is failure. What is there to prove?"
"If there's no need to prove, then why insist that I stay and listen to your victory speech? Don't you want to see regret and remorse on my face to validate your own success?" Inham asked calmly. "At the very least, I am certain of one thing—Akibard never once sought to prove his greatness, nor did he ever think himself great. He refused to become a lich, not because he couldn't—he refused because he didn't want to. He faced his own life with acceptance. He was a great man because he embraced everything that belonged to him, including death and failure."
Inham paused, his gaze settling on the flames in Vadenina's eye sockets, which burned with an intensity beyond normal. He sighed lightly but chose to continue.
"Fate—none of us can truly control it. All we can do is face it. The rise of the Black Star is merely another cycle in this world's endless motion. And after the Black Star unleashes its final judgment, even the King of the Dead himself may vanish. What will you gain from all this? Nothing but the illusion of having transcended everything. No matter what you do, no matter where you stand, under the wheels of fate, you are still but a speck of dust. What you truly pursue is not destiny—it is the feeling of being above it all."
"Have you ever realized that everything you've done has been forced upon you—by none other than yourself? By your own obsession with surpassing everything? Why can't you be strong enough to face it, to accept it, instead of using this path as an escape? I know… we've wronged you in ways we cannot take back. But you must also understand that we all have our own positions, our own reasons... In truth, whether you had chosen to wait for me, or to choose someone else, you would be far better off than—"
"Shut up!!"
The roar erupted from the lich's body with such force that it seemed capable of shattering her brittle, mummified frame.
"I've said my piece. Goodbye."
Inham's expression remained unchanged as the wall of flames behind him dissipated. Without hesitation, he turned and resumed his path forward.
"Go to hell!"
The flames in Vadenina's eyes flared like a raging inferno, as if a hundred pounds of oil had been poured onto them, consuming everything but sheer fury. Her withered hand rose, black magical energy surging violently along her arm, coalescing into a massive green firebird that materialized before her in an instant.
There was no scorching heatwave in the air, no visible anomaly—the fire had condensed to an almost tangible state, containing all its temperature and necromantic energy without releasing the slightest trace. The firebird spread its wings, then shot forward in a streak of green afterimage, hurtling silently toward Inham's back.
Yet, Inham kept walking. Though the firebird made no sound, the raging magical energy it carried was so overwhelming that even a magicless, long-eared goblin could have sensed it. And still, he didn't even turn his head.
In an instant, the firebird exploded into a sea of blazing green flames, engulfing Inham's figure completely. Even the surrounding obsidian ground melted under the intense necromantic heat. This was fire rivaling the greatest magic of the Dark Dragon itself—nothing could survive within it.
The flames in Vadenina's eyes had dimmed considerably. That spell had carried not only her magic but also her fury, drowning out her reason entirely. She stood motionless, staring blankly at the raging inferno that had swallowed Inham's form. Her withered hand remained frozen mid-air, refusing to lower. In that stillness, she was indistinguishable from a statue.
The firestorm slowly faded, revealing a field of molten lava where the ground once lay. And then, the flames in Vadenina's eye sockets, which had begun to wane, suddenly flared to life once more.
Inham was still there. He continued walking forward without looking back, just as before. The only difference now was that he had pulled up the hood of his robe, shrouding himself completely beneath its dark fabric.
"The Robe of the Ghost King? Master… you…" Vadenina gasped in shock and turned to look at Sandru.
Sandru replied indifferently, "He stole it from me a long time ago."
"You're not going to stop him?" Vadenina asked in alarm. The Robe of the Ghost King could resist all magical attacks, but that didn't make one truly invincible—at the very least, it was powerless against Sandru's corpse-controlling magic.
"Why should I stop him?" Sandru remained motionless, answering with a question of his own.
"He donned the Robe of the Ghost King, violating Lord Akibard's last decree. That makes him a traitor to the necromancers. And besides, earlier he—"
"That was before." Sandru nodded slightly. "Up until just now, he was the person I most wanted to kill. But now… I think I'd rather see what he intends to do, what he's capable of doing."
"He's obviously going to try to stop the arrival of the Lord of the Undead. That is something no necromancer can be allowed to do."
"I left Dehya Valley a long time ago. You know that. If you want to stop him, go find someone else from the guild." Sandru turned and started walking in another direction. "Come to think of it… there's something I should go and take care of as well."