"Split up into small groups E' says."

Strong planted his blade in the head of one of the skeletons.

"It'll be safer that way E' says." The big man grumbled as he shoved back another of the encroaching undead.

Whatever had been keeping the undead from attacking them on the way into the city had evidently stopped the minute that dragon had ripped its way up from the pits of hell, or wherever it had been hiding before it burned down a chunk of the city trying to get at them. Now the streets were teeming with them as he'd never seen before, and if they gathered up into a shield wall like they ought to, then the Dragonfire would blast them away.

As it stood now they were at risk of being picked apart like a corpse amongst vultures.

The only small blessing was that he and his lads, Erin, Fulmar, Chall, and a couple of the independent sorts were holed up in some old storefront, and there was only a door and two windows for the dead bastards to crawl through.

He could only hope that the rest were doing as well as his party, but even then they were tiring quickly, and he could still hear those great wingbeats and the scorching crackle of distant fiery eruptions.

"Aggh!" He heard the yell of pain behind him, that was Erin, Damn. He shared a glance out the side of his helmet at the scene. He had a rusty knife in his gut… they would have to hope that the big-little man lived through all of this and that they lived long enough for his healing.

Thankfully, the newbies were running backline for them, as the girl dragged Erin out of harm's way and the brat took his place, or at least he could hear them talking about doing that. He had to trust in their competence given that he couldn't take his eyes off his own bottleneck for long. For each skeleton he broke apart it seemed another two or even three were trying to force their way inside.

The seconds felt like minutes and the minutes like hours as they just held there, holding back the horde by the skin of their teeth, until an earth-shattering boom rang out from somewhere closer to the temple, making the ground shake.

Given the way the skeletons turned towards it, almost as one, Strong hoped it was a good boom and not a bad boom.

For a long, uncomfortable moment, he breathed heavily, catching his breath after the nonstop assault.

Then, one by one the skeletons began to crumble. He watched in a mix of palpable confusion and intense relief as they simply fell away to dust, leaving behind the occasionally broken weapon or shattered implement. It wasn't all of them, but by the far the bulk of the horde by simply seemed to crumple and melt away, and even the few skeletons that still stood seemed to have lost that driving influence that had kept them there.

"Do you think they've killed it?" Chall asked, brandishing his Warhammer as he moves up from his post. The enemy was thin enough now, and moreover, the assault seemed to have halted. "Real dragonslayers, in our company."

There was a certain reverence as the words left his mouth, and Strong knew the feeling. Dragons were the kings of the world, almighty terrors that roamed the skies and burned kingdoms to ashes. While an army with cannons could put one down more often than not, a lone man or even a party of heroes hadn't slain one in… centuries at least. He doubted very much that the beast they had seen was alive, not in this place, but that hardly made much difference in the title or the concept.

Whatever they did after this, whoever put that thing down was a hero, and there was really only the one group in his mind who could have feasibly done it.

'shoulda gotten on the damn bird.' he grumbled to himself beneath his breath. Having a title like Dragonslayer would get you a real cushy knighthood somewhere. Maybe more if you were clever.

Still, that didn't seem to be his luck, and they still had a job to do. "Everyone get ready." He ordered after another moment of rest. "We were going to push to that square. If the Father and his healing magic are anywhere, it'll be there."

There were nods all around at that, faces set sternly, eyes full of courage.

And so they went.

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When Karsten shoved the spear that I blessed into the dragon-zombies chest, I was expecting a bit of fanfare I'll admit. It just seemed inevitable given the feat of killing such a beast.

I was not expecting the massive blast of energy that ripped its way up out of the dying beast. It was as if it had been drinking up the light for a thousand years, storing it inside itself to stop it from getting out.

And now all that swallowed light was free, and we were all at the center of the blast radius as it poured out of the beast. It was strong enough to burn away much of the wood I had managed to grow around the dragon, and as it scorched holes through the rapidly wilting construct of my life magic it spread out like a short-lived sun across the square.

I cannot speak as to how it felt for the others in that brief moment. Such a concentrated wave of light was much like being hit by a mixed version of every spell I could cast, and more even. For me, it was a healing balm most of all, and I could feel my own energies returning as my skin was filled with the potent energy. My aching shoulders felt feels, and I felt a smile grow on my face as everything seemed right with the world. This was the same sort of light my father had been able to call upon, and to me, it was a blessing at the end of a harsh day. For others though, it seemed to come with pain as well. I heard the shrieks and yelps of pain, and it dampened my good mood at once as I worried for my friends. The light was pure and potent, and in such quantities, it was dangerous for those not already steeped in it.

"Is everyone alright?" I asked blinking the spots from my eyes as I glanced around the now wilted husk of my wooden construct. Theen seemed to still be on his feet, though leaning on a wooden staff he must have himself conjured, but everyone else save for Harald was down.

"Blasted, dung-sifting-" the dwarf humbled as he rubbed at his eyes with leather-gloved hands. "Could ya have warned us about that?"

"I didn't think it would be… quite that much," I admitted, moving to Mary's prone form, and checking to make sure she was alright. Mercifully she seemed uninjured, save for a slight resending of her skin, which even now was quickly fading. Getting hit by the light must have been similar to a low-intensity flurm across our entire bodies. Thankfully being both diurnal and a living creature, she could handle that better than say, an orc. She was pushing herself up even as I kneeled down beside her, which was annoying for me since she was near twice my height even when I wasn't kneeling.

Also rubbing at her eyes, she shook her head. "I'm-I'm alright Father, go check on Karsten. Just… that was unexpected is all."

"Right." I nodded, having a bit of trouble standing up because of my vestments, and the giddiness that was still running through me after the wave of light. I stumbled a bit on the uneven surface before moving over to the pit I had made above the dragon's heart.

"Karsten are you ok?" I shouted down, though my heart froze a bit when I didn't receive an immediate reply. "Karsten?"

"Urrgh." The rumbling voice of the young man who had put himself in my service came up from the pit.

"Oh thank God, are you hurt?" I paused for a moment, "let me shine a light down there." I said, lifting Daughter Bark up and whispering "Flirmand". A small shaft of light lead my way as I climbed down into the pit after him.

"Just a bit of a- oww…" Karsten yelped as I got down beside him. The space that had been filled by the dragon before now held only its scorched bones, held in an artificial cave by the wilted remains of its wooden prison. I had to scramble down part of its enormous ribcage to reach the ground safely, an option Karsten evidently hadn't had as he fell through the now empty carcass. As it was I barely made it down safely myself, but I was riding too high on having full power again to care.

"I… I think I broke my ankles on the fall." The teen growled through gritted teeth as I managed to get a good look at him.

I had to give a smile at that. This wouldn't be a particularly hard thing to cure then. "Chin up Karsten, you're a dragonslayer now!" I said happily as I fumbled around for my bag. "Just let me get my ointments out and I'll have your legs fixed in a few moments."

"Yeah-yeah just lemme- wait a- Holy Shit!" I watched with some amusement between glances into my bag as several Aries emotions flashed over Karsten's face, and I pulled his boots off just in time for his exclamation.

"Hmm, this one's a break, the others just dislocated," I grumbled. "How did you even do..? No, never mind. And yeah, Karsten the Dragonslayer, how does that sound? They'll sing songs about you for sure." I started working on the broken leg as I tried to keep the conversation going. A ring of holy oil around the affected area just to amplify my spell work, and I needed to make sure the bone would mend properly.

"Who killed the Dragon that swallowed the sun, Karsten be his naaaaaame!" I sang quietly as I prepared my willpower. I was actually feeling a lot more full now. Something had changed in the air around the time the dragon died, and I didn't feel the oppressive shadow that had drowned out the light before. I had an inkling suspicion that the death of the beast must have ended the curse on the city.

That coupled with the burst of light giving me a fair boost in my stamina, I barely felt a drain as I cupped both hands around Karsten's hairy leg and cast "Hasha" with a fair bit of power. I had to run my hands around the area, both because they were too small, and because I needed to make sure the bone mended properly, but soon enough I was content that his leg was healed, and I glanced up to find Karsten still looking fairly dumbstruck by the whole thing.

That wouldn't do in a moment though, as I moved my grip to his other ankle. "Hey Dragonslayer, grit your teeth a second."

"H-oh wait!" The spearman finally seemed to snap to his senses, a second too late for his complaints to mean anything.

His scream of pain was incredibly girly as I reset his left ankle, but a quick word to dull the pain later and he was back on his feet, and whining at that.

"You didn't let me grit my teeth…" he mumbles dejectedly as he tried flexing his legs again with a squat. "And uh… about the Dragonslayer thing…" I saw a guilty look come over his face and I already knew where he was going to go with it, so I took advantage of his oath to me to shut that line of conversation down right away.

"Let's not talk about that now." I raised my hand. "There are bigger things to worry about right now."

"R-right." He said, as if just now remembering we were still in the middle of the cursed city, he ran over to pick up his discarded spear, just in time for those up above us to finally put a rope down.

Mary's voice came down with it, and an urgent tone at that. "Hurry up and get the Father up here Karsten you big lout, something's happening with the temple!"

Ironically, that seemed to perk his spirits right up, confidence coming back to his face. "Alright Father, hang onto me and I'll carry you up."

"Sure!" I nodded cheerfully, grabbing onto his back and clamping on as he made the climb back up onto the surface of the wooden construct.

As he pulled himself over the edge, I glanced up at the temple, wondering what Mary meant, and I felt a lump settle into my stomach as I saw the orange-tinted smoke pouring out of every door and window of the ruined building, and caught a whiff of brimstone in the air.

I raised my staff again as I realized what that meant, for it seemed that the undead was not alone amongst our foes.

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Agamemnon scowled as he flew up through the acrid smoke cloud conjured by one of Bellanjia's many pets. He hated demons, even moreso than he hated the undead, regardless of whether he was confined to such an existence or not.

The undead were slaves shackled to their master's will, or at best wild animals hunting for blood that couldn't sate them, but Demons were cruel, capricious. They would torture you more likely than kill you, or worse leave their marl upon you to turn you into one of them.

Somehow though it did not surprise him that the sorceress had such beings bound to her service. As they created out of the temple. The artificer and the sorceress held one under each arm, he took a last-minute to glance over the city. Without the constant presence of the curse gnawing at the back of his mind, the ruins could be almost beautiful, save for the I'll memories that accompanied them.

As his eyes found the square and a large section of… burnt trees grown up in a massive mound at its center, he felt his eyes narrow on the foes there.

There were five of them, and from their sluggish movements there seemed to be little concern for the dragon they had no doubt been fighting before. Syrrax was dead then, she had no doubt died around the time they had bound the curse.

As he stared he felt one of them stare back and he curse himself for lingering, throwing himself back behind the smoke cloud and flying at full pace from the opposite side of the temple, before turning towards the breach in the Silver Prince's barrier they had made earlier. He didn't know which of them had seen him, but it was lucky that they had not had time to attack.

There had been a great deal of luck in their success thus far. From the luck with their relatively easy entry into the city, to the Guardian Syrrax being distracted from them by a greater source of magical power. (Something which quietly amused Agamemnon, given Bellanjia's boasts) to the success of the old man's untested devices. They had made it through the whole of the city with little need to fight seriously.

That luck though, was about to run out, as Agamemnon spotted the solitary figure hovering above the city gate, right in the center of their path. At first glance, she seemed a little girl, but the silver mask on her face showed her true nature.

"Cease." The voice rang out in multiple layers, made thunderous by a voice enhancement spell. They were hundreds of feet away, buffeted by night winds, and it was still deafening. "I do not know why you have come here, but you will not leave this place."

Agamemnon felt a frown crease his lips. "You two will have to fly under your own power from this point." He said quietly, releasing Bellanjia and the artificer once they nodded in return.

The three split up in the sky as Agamemnon moved forward, anticipation building as he met face to face with his son for the first time in a millennia.

"Is that my Granddaughter’s body you're puppeting around Publius?" Agamemnon said, a mix of affection and dislike mixing within his cold, chained heart. “I hope you’re taking good care of her.”

That was when all hell broke loose.

Bellanjia must have cast a spell because an enormous serpent of fire roared past his left, fangs bared and jaw split wide. On his opposite side, some sort of shadow constructs started flooding forward.

The Silver Prince only raised his hands, and a pair of shimmering circular mirrors appeared in front of both spells. The disks seemed to drink the magic up until the flashes of fire and shadow were gone entirely.

Yet Agamemnon could tell that Publius’ eyes never left his own blazing blue orbs.

This time, rather than sternness, it was anger that flooded the Silver Prince's voice.

"What Petulant Necromancer dared to rip you from your tomb father?" The air shimmered as magic seemed to flood out from the ancient mage. "Tell me, and I will end this cursed Reunion."

Agamemnon threw off the imposed mental command as he felt his son's power attempt to latch itself onto his soul.

Oh yes.

A cursed Reunion indeed.

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It came forth from the numberless orifices of the dark temple, spilling towards the square in great billowing clouds as the beast of pure magic revealed itself.

It was a demon, he knew in his bones from the moment he saw it, and the smell of brimstone thick in the air as it formed from the darkness.

Karsten clutched at his arm. Phantom pain shooting up from where once he had been infected by a similar beast.

Like a dog made of smoke, it stood on four legs, and more of the dark clouds ushered forth from a wicked mouth beneath orange eyes as it stood across the square like a tyrant surveying his domain. It was only a moment before it took notice of them, gliding towards the corpse mound of Syrrax with a cruel cackle.

"What Foolssss dare stand in my dom-"

That was as far as it got, Karsten observed.

"Flurm" a calm voice spoke over the demon, and at once Karsten felt his eyes drift down to Abbott, but the boy hadn't spoken, and besides, the voice had been that of a-

That was when a beam of light nearly four men wide Flew from the opposite side of him across the square and straight into the open mouth of the great smokey hound.

The effect was instantaneous. Where the beams Abbott Cast were precise, deadly things that could if he wanted burn holes in a target, this… tidal wave of light simply swept over the demon in a single blast, burning it away until nothing remained, and ripping apart any smoke it left behind in a single thundering torrent.

Karsten, felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at such a display of power, If the dragon was still here then wouldn't that have just killed it? It did not seem to have been a weak demon.

He turned to face the caster slowly, and with a bit of trepidation.

Then he realized that everyone else was already kneeling.

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