“The gods are punishing us,” one of the villagers cried, terror in his voice. They were huddled together at the rear of the walkway, just outside the entrance to the tunnel that led back to the surface. “We were never meant to escape!”

“Stop it!” Bud growled, low enough that Hump could only just make it out.

Amongst them, a child was crying.

“We’re going to die.” A woman wept. She was on the ground, huddled up against a wall, staring at the undead kobolds with white eyes. “We’re going to die.”

“Stop it!” Bud snapped, louder this time. “You’re not going to die. On my life, you’re not.” He drew his sword; frostfire erupted along the blade, radiating a sweeping chill. He strode toward the undead, his face ablaze with Kelisia’s fire. Anger in his eyes like Hump had never seen it.

The four undead kobolds staggered onward like drunkards, spears and rusty swords dragging at their heels. They had none of their past speed and cunning. They were fuelled by death magic, driven by the hunger for life that it had given them. A hunger they could only sate with blood.

These four alone were of little threat, but it was what they represented that made Hump afraid. The necromancer had shown itself. A necromancer powerful enough to create bonefiends, that had now raised a village full of undead kobolds. That required a power ranking far beyond anything even the old man had possessed, and it wasn’t something that could have been done from far away. They were close.

Hump readied his staff but Vamir stretched out a hand to stop him.

“Leave these four to us,” he said. “Save your power for when we can’t do without it.” His eyes were on the undead. For the first time, Hump thought he saw concern in them. Perhaps even fear. When someone of Vamir’s strength felt shaken, Hump knew it was time to be afraid.

Hump clenched his jaw, frustrated, but Vamir was right. He nodded and stepped back, positioning himself between the villagers and the undead kobolds. He’d leave this fight to his party. He felt useless. Weak. Like another bystander in need of protection. But he had his own role to play, one he’d pushed himself at too hard over the last few days, and now it had come back to bite him.

Foolishness, he found himself thinking again. If only he hadn’t let his emotions control him, if only he’d conserved his strength better. The old man wouldn’t have tired himself out like an idiot.

He doubted he had the strength left for a single good spell, even if they needed it. That left him with only one option, and it was an option he didn’t like one bit. And one he might not survive to regret.

Again he wondered what he was doing here. He’d done his job, earned enough coin for six months of hot meals at a cosy inn. Yet instead of quitting while he was ahead, he’d been caught up in Bud’s heroics and followed without thinking.

Bud continued forward at a steady pace; his blade extended at his side. A faint stream of essence escaped him in a way Hump hadn’t sensed before. It grew stronger by the moment, building into something that made Bud seem somehow larger. His skin took on a blue hue where his armour didn’t cover it, so slight Hump only noticed because he was looking. Only when the undead stepped within range did Bud allow that power to explode.

He planted a heavy step forward and lunged, essence streaming from him in shining streaks of cold light. Power radiated from him. The power granted to him by Kelisia’s new blessing. He bounded across the space in less time than it took to blink, sword whirling at his side in a wild, sweeping swing. In a single blow he cut down two of the undead as if they were nothing more than training dummies. Even as they fell, ice crystallised over their wounds. Their scales fractured in a trail along their body as the fluids inside froze solid, blue ice spiking out from within. Not even death magic could keep them walking after that.

There was a twang. Celaine’s arrow found the remaining good eye of the third kobold, piercing into its skull until two arrows protruded from its head. Bud took another step forward, and gripping his sword in a single hand, he drove it up through the creature’s chin and into its brain. It hung there on the sword, chin twitching in its death throes, suspended as it was frozen. When Bud tossed it aside, it hit the floor with a heavy crack like stone on stone.

Vamir dashed in on Bud’s right, decapitating the final kobold with a well-aimed slash. The creature fell, but it’s body still moved, clawing at the ground as it searched for a target. Dark purple light shone out from where the blood pooled at its neck. Vamir stepped over it and drove his sword down into its chest, disconnecting its heartstone from the rest of its body.

Now that the walkway was still once more, Bud turned to them, sword burning with holy flame at his side. Fire in his eyes, smoke streaming from his body. An awe-inspiring warrior of the gods. “I am Bud of Blackthorne, sworn Knight of Kelisia, and on my honour—”

A scream erupted in the cavern. The shrill, agonised scream of the dying. Bud went silent, his horrified eyes turning down to face the kobold village. Hump didn’t want to look. He didn’t want to see what was happening down below. They were so close now, so close to getting everyone out. So close, yet it felt like there was a mountain left to climb. He had dared to hope that they would all make it out of this alive, and the gods had punished him for it. The Wizards’ Law was absolute.

This was no simple raise undead spell. It had brought back every kobold that had been killed. Every villager that had been murdered. All over the village, they swarmed toward Kassius’ party and the handful of remaining villagers down below. Between them, they carried two stretchers with wounded that couldn’t walk or run.

Hump spotted the origin of the scream, a middle-aged man that had been the first across the stream. He fought off three undead kobolds with a pickaxe, a bloody bite wound in his shoulder staining his entire left side in red. He jabbed at the kobolds with frantic strikes, but they were indifferent to the pain and without fear or hesitation entirely. They overwhelmed him in seconds, dragging him to the ground where his screams echoed throughout the chamber. The sound shook Hump to his core. He was shaking when the scream went silent. Shaking so hard he had to grip his staff just to try to hide it.

Bud seemed frozen, unable to look away from the terror unfolding. The undead were funnelling the remaining twenty or so villagers toward the stream, blocking off the path up to the walkway. The black paladin held the bridge at their backs alone, an immovable shield against the tide, but he wouldn’t hold forever. Kassius did his best to coordinate a defence with the rest of his party, but they were flanked on all sides.

“How the hell did this happen?” Celaine murmured. She had an arrow on the bow string, but she hadn’t drawn it back. She just stared, face white.

“Mass Raise Undead,” Hump said. He turned to Vamir. “We can’t stay here. That’s high tier magic. To pull a spell like this off the necromancer would have to be…” Hump shook his head. “I don’t even know. Powerful. More powerful than any wizard I know. He may be Chosen too.”

“The gods do not deal in necromancy,” Bud said.

“Ours don’t,” Hump said. “But there are many gods beyond the Pantheon of the Twelve.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bud growled. “There are still people here, and it is our job to get them out. We’re not leaving.”

Hump stepped closer to him, talking quiet enough that the villagers wouldn’t hear. “And what if your heroics get the rest of us killed? We save who we can.”

The knight glared at him, eyes burning with determination. “Kelisia granted me this power for a reason. That reason is here. You can leave if you want, but I won’t. I’m staying.”

“Damn it, Bud,” Hump snapped. He paced to the wall. The black paladin still held the bridge alone, Kassius and his party forming up with the villagers to hold off the undead as best as they could. So far, most of the undead hadn’t noticed the small group of living trapped within the village, but that wouldn’t last long. “What do we do then?”

Vamir was staring down at the unfolding battle, face contorted into a frown. “We clear a path,” he said finally. “The three of you with me. We’re going to get them out.”

Hump stared after him as he ran the length of the walkway, rounding the corner at the end where he took the ramp down to ground level.

Bud looked back to the villagers. “We’ll get your people out. I promise.”

Or die trying, Hump thought, but he didn’t voice it as Bud followed Vamir. Hump glanced at Celaine, hoping she might have some more sense, but she only gave him a slight smile before following too.

Leaving just him, alone with the villagers, staring after Chosen as they walked to battle. This was the difference between himself and them, the reason he was just a wizard. The reason no god cared to look his way. He could fight for people, maybe even save a few, but when death came knocking at the door that was his signal to get out. He was a hedge wizard. He followed the coin. If one wanted to live long enough to get a few grey hairs in this line of work, they had to follow certain rules, and they couldn’t cross that line. That was how his master had lasted so long, and Hump was supposed to do the same.

“Damn them,” Hump said under his breath. “Damn all their bloody gods.”

He looked at the villagers gathered behind him. Hump’s heart was racing. Was he really going to do this? It was practically suicide. They were the old, the weak, and the wounded. Those still strong enough to help had been in the village, carrying the wounded out from the shrine. “Stay here and wait if you want to live. The tunnels back to the surface are lined with kobold bodies, be ready for a fight. If you don’t want to live, well, think about your friends and family that might.”

Then he was walking. He didn’t give himself a chance to think. The more time he thought, the more time the sensible part of his brain had to talk him out of it. The time for wizard’s logic was long gone. His party was clearly made up of idiots, but they were idiots he had grown rather fond of. Besides, if he were really to follow the coin, he’d never met a purse as large as Kassius’. Saving a prince’s life a second time had to be worth a castle or two. At least, that’s what he told himself.

He downed the ramp and hurried over to where the others gathered on the outskirts of the village. And with more confidence than he felt, he stepped out in front of them. Bud and Vamir had managed to reach the closest huts and had gained the attention of some of the horde, while Celaine hung back and picked off the stragglers.

“What are you doing?” Celaine asked.

“I’m doing the only thing I can.” Hump pulled out a piece of chalk from his pocket and knelt, drawing a series of lines that came together in front of him to form an arrow. “Bud, Vamir, get ready to go in. Celaine, I need you to cover me. I’m not entirely sure what will happen to me after this.”

He pulled out the glowing vial from his pouch, the heat of it making it easy to find even without looking.

“Are you sure about this?” Bud asked.

“I don’t see another choice,” Hump snapped. “Now go!”

Celaine glanced at Hump unsure as he uncorked the vial. Bud and Vamir stepped aside, giving Hump a clear line of sight to where the villagers were clustered. A few kobolds had broken away from the group, but the two warriors wouldn’t given any a chance to slip by. Hump glanced once more at Bud, who gave him a reassuring nod. Hump didn’t need words to know it meant good luck. He sighed, and then he gulped down the entire vial of wizardfire.

Heat stung at the back of his throat like hard liquor. He felt it trickle down like honey, burning all the way to his stomach, where the heat grew. Power surged forth like a raging furnace, bellowing up through his veins and filling him with so much essence he thought it might tear him apart.

“Go!” Hump roared, his voice resonating with the essence that filled him. Then he levelled his staff toward the gathering horde of undead and began to channel.