The Mists of Death’s core area was a broad valley surrounded by tall hills. The Mists from all around rolled towards here, slowly at first and then faster, and they thickened as they approached, distilling their very essence into the valley. Death energy covered the ground in layers, dense enough to almost be liquid, forming a black lake a mile across.

This lake was dotted by many stone islands, ranging in size from a table to a courtyard, forming paths that let people jump from one to the next and walk on the lake. They were like lilypads on a normal lake, except not particularly flat, and also not susceptible to sinking.

The group observed the lake from its shores. They had tried flying over it, but the rolling death energy created winds so chaotic that Marcus deemed the attempt too risky. Therefore, they had left the airship—Victoria—at the entrance of the valley and stealthily approached on foot.

They did not expect a lake made of death.

“Well,” said Horace, cupping his chin, “this looks dangerous.”

Jerry approached the lake, squatted at its edge, and squinted at the black water.

“Wanna hear something funny?” he said. “I don’t think I can survive that.”

“The water?”

“Yes. I can handle it for some time, but this is liquid death energy. Even undead will rot away inside it.”

“Liquid death energy!?” Marcus’s eyes were wide as saucers. “I… I’ve never heard of such a thing!”

“Neither have I,” replied Jerry, shrugging as he stood. “To be fair, I don’t think it exists anywhere else in the world.”

Laura crossed her arms. “The wood nettle potion can’t save us from this, triple dosage or not.”

“From the lake? Not a chance. However, the air above it isn’t much different than the rest of the Mists. A bit windy, sure, but fine otherwise. The Mist is sucked into the lake as fast as it approaches.” Jerry looked straight ahead, his eyes cutting through the dark haze. He could only see a hundred feet away.

Laura frowned. “Which makes no sense, by the way. I thought the core expelled death energy outwards. The mist should go out of the lake, not in.”

“I’m just telling you what I see.” He shrugged again. “The death energy falls into the lake and disappears.”

“That’s weird.”

“We should get going, Master. Allow me,” said Boney, approaching Jerry. He squatted and dipped a finger into the lake, only to remove it a moment later. “Yes, this is dangerous,” he confirmed. “Look; only the bone is left.”

“Do you think Arakataron is in the middle of the lake?” asked Laura.

“Absolutely. He’s an Archmage necromancer; where else would he possibly be?”

“Inside the lake.”

“Oh.” Everyone looked at each other. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to find out.”

Axehand was not participating in the conversation. He was already standing on the first stone island, gloating at his bravery. As everyone was talking, he jumped to the next, then the next. They were a bit rocky, like shorn-off mountaintops, but anyone could walk on them, or so it seemed.

When nothing bad happened, Axehand raised an axe in triumph.

“What are these islands anyway?” asked Jerry. “Who put all the stone inside?”

“Death energy has corrosive properties,” explained Laura. “If I had to guess, this wasn’t always a lake. The death energy corroded the soil and formed a crater for itself, but stone is impervious to death energy. The islands we see here should extend to the bottom, however deep that is.”

The next question was, naturally, about the lake’s depth. Jerry grabbed a random long stick from the ground and stuck it in a few times, nodding. “Mhm. It’s only a foot deep here, but probably gets deeper as we go. The lake bottom should be shaped as a crater, as Laura said.”

“Of course. However, these stone islands are so many it’s suspicious… Was this area full of stone formations?”

“This place was called Valley of Kings. It was known for its rocky terrain,” explained Horace. Marcus’s eyes twinkled.

“Valley of Kings!” he shouted out of the blue. Boney, who was beside him, grabbed his ribcage and muttered something about a fortunate lack of bowels, but Marcus didn’t care. He retrieved a little blue notebook from his inner jacket and quickly flipped through the pages. “This is the place I’m looking for! I knew it was somewhere in the Mists, but I never imagined it would be dead-center!”

Boney chuckled. “Nice one.”

“This is no time for jokes, Boney,” Marcus retorted.

“Oh, silly me. I saw you talking for half an hour and thought we were chilling.”

“Well, if the treasure was here, it’s gone now.” Jerry laughed. “Unless you want to dive in and scavenge the taels one by one.”

“Not necessarily.” Marcus’s eyes twinkled again. “According to my notes, the treasure should be sealed inside a crown-shaped stone formation, which is impervious to death energy.”

“Oh?” Horace raised a brow. “How very fortunate. What kind of treasure is that, anyway?”

Though he had become a part of their group, Marcus was reluctant to reveal more information than needed. Laura didn’t know the details either. After all, the location of Dorman’s treasure was world-shaking information!

“Let’s talk about this later,” Marcus quickly dodged the question. “Just keep an eye out for any rocks shaped like a crown. They should be tall, so they probably stick outside the lake, at least a little bit. And in any case, we can’t search for treasure with a hostile Archmage around. Let’s go get rid of him!”

The Billies released a combined roar, supporting him. Horace gave Marcus a deep glance but didn’t comment further.

Marcus’s mood had gone up at the thought of treasure. Suddenly, he was battle-ready, and his eyes seemed to be tael-shaped.

However, Laura frowned as she looked at the dark waters.

“Isn’t this a bit risky?” she asked. “A single misstep and we’ll be poisoned to the point of no return… Remember, Marcus, the two of us are living.”

“Bah, nonsense. Opportunities always come with risks. What are we, scaredy cats?” He laughed rowdily, enduring Laura’s icy stare like it was nothing. “Come on, let’s go already! Treasure’s waiting!”

“Shouldn’t we at least have a plan?” she tried again.

“I do have a plan,” said Horace, raising his bow. “It’s called ‘my bow.’”

Axehand grunted in agreement from where he stood, rubbing his two axes together, and Marcus’s eyes were still tael-shaped. Jerry laughed. “I guess we’ll improvize,” he said.

“What Master means to say,” Boney intervened, “is that we must hurry or the death knights we distracted before will have time to return—and since we’re forced to go in blind, what plan could we have? Even Birb can’t scout freely in there or it might be spotted.”

“It can try.”

“So can you, but I don’t see you going.”

Her sigh was full of irritation. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s just do our best to not fall off.”

“Of course. We would hate to lose you.” Boney smiled, letting out a cluckle—his signature combination of chuckling and bone jaw clacking. She looked at him passively before mustering her courage and stepping on the first stone, cutting off Marcus.

“Hey!” he yelled.

She smiled. “Ladies first.” It was her tiny bit of friendly revenge.

And so, slowly but surely, the entire group got on the lake and started jumping from stone to stone like children. They were fourteen in total, including the flying Birb, so they created quite a spectacle—only the circus music was missing.

Of course, some stones were flatter than others. Some were easy to pass and some difficult, and Jerry even saw a single rock that towered high and stood alone like a proud mini-mountain. They didn’t find the crown shape that Marcus was looking for, unfortunately, but the proud rock was a pleasant landmark.

Of the entire group, the Billies were undoubtedly the most relaxed, followed by Horace. These five climbed any stones and jumped from island to island as casually as taking a stroll. They made it look easy. This profoundly irritated Axehand, who couldn’t follow their pace, as well as Marcus, whose excitement waned at the sight of the Billies’ antiques.

“Take it easy, boys!” he warned them. “There’s no need to rush. You might fall off.”

They ignored him, and Billy One even did a handstand. Marcus scowled.

Laura laughed beside him. “Boys will be boys. Relax; they can handle it.”

“But they shouldn’t ignore me,” he grumbled. “I’m the Captain!”

“And where’s your ship, Captain?”

“Resting. She flew a long way.”

“She?”

“She.”

Her confused gaze met Marcus’s steady one.

“Look!” Jerry suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the dark water. “There’s fishes!”

“Fishes?”

The four of them—the three humans and Boney were bringing up the rear—stopped and looked.

“Oh!” Laura’s voice jumped. “There’s fishes!”

A few white shapes could barely be seen in the dark waters, swimming from side to side and slowly gathering near Jerry. There were five of them, and they seemed to belong to different species, ranging from pinky-sized to ones as long as Jerry’s forearm.

“Look at them, all white and glowing,” Jerry said with pride. “They must be very brave to survive in all this death energy.”

“Wait, are they transparent?” asked Marcus, frowning. “Look; you can see the white glow of a fish through another fish.”

They all looked carefully. “You’re right,” Jerry finally replied, nodding. “How weird… I wonder if I could adopt one.”

His soul reached out, and he instantly exclaimed in surprise.

“What is it?” asked Laura.

“These things aren’t fish!” said Jerry, full of excitement. “They’re souls!”

“Souls?”

“Yeah. They’ve lost their bodies, but the death energy here keeps them alive. How peculiar.”

“Wait, so these are the souls of everyone who died in this lake!?”

“Maybe even the entire Mists of Death.” Jerry chuckled helplessly. “The thick death energy maintains the souls and carries them along as it flows to this lake… Here, they do not weaken by time, and they are forced to aimlessly wander these dark waters in eternity, losing all their memories and turning into fish…”

“So these fish are ghosts,” Boney concluded. “Creepy.”

“You’re a ghost too, just trapped in a skeletal vessel.”

“Yes, I’m creepy too.”

“Do you think they can hurt us?” asked Marcus, looking at the seemingly harmless fish that quickly lost interest and wandered away.

“Probably,” replied Jerry, “but I don’t think they would, unless we attacked first—and even if they did, I can easily extinguish these little ones. The stronger the soul, the larger the fish, so we’re going to be just fine unless there are whales hiding in the depths.”

“I think I’ll stick by your side,” said Laura.

“So will I,” agreed Marcus.

“Me too,” added Boney.

Jerry laughed.

“Are you coming?” Horace’s voice drifted over from atop a tall rock, his form barely visible through the Mists. “We’re waiting for you.”

“Coming, coming.” Jerry laughed again, running and jumping to a slightly far-away stone. They weren’t always located close to each other, but thankfully, everyone wore well-made shoes that offered good grip.

The lake was large, and they were slow.

As time passed, the bantering died down and was replaced by silence. Everyone was nervous. The shores had long disappeared from their vision, giving the impression that the lake was endless in all directions. By now, only Jerry knew the way to the center, as he could faintly feel a large amount of death energy flowing there.

Slowly but surely, the group was approaching the Archmage, and they were all stressed and jumpy.

Suddenly, Jerry’s brows furrowed.

“Stop,” he whispered, and everyone froze. They were close to each other.

Everyone stared at him.

“Birb found enemies,” he whispered again, closing his eyes and reopening them shortly. “Long limbs, plate armor. It’s a death knight like the one we fought at Horace’s tribe.”

“There was another?” Marcus’s eyes widened.

“We’re talking about an Archmage,” Laura hissed. “He’s not stupid to send all his forces at the Dungeon. He must have kept some as backup…but how many could they be?”

Jerry narrowed his eyes. “He sent twelve at the Dungeon, and I doubt anyone can support much more than that, Archmage or not.”

“Is it approaching?” Horace asked sharply.

Jerry once again closed his eyes, wobbled a bit, then reopened them. “Not really,” he said. “It’s moving perpendicular to us, three hundred feet ahead. We’ll be fine if we just wait a bit.”

Everyone nodded.

A few moments later, Jerry nodded. “It’s gone.”

“Good. Let’s go, and be careful, everyone; we’ve entered their patrol radius.”

The group restarted, this time deathly quiet. Birb located two more death knights, each walking by itself, and the group was growing more suspicious by the minute. Just how many were there!?

Due to Birb’s vigilance, they eventually approached Arakataron’s location to the point where Jerry felt stifled. The quantity of death energy heading there was insane; it was so large, in fact, that a strong wind was now blowing at the group’s back, stopping occasionally like a giant’s breathing on their necks.

The thought was humbling. Jerry gulped as he kept going.

A moment later, he raised a hand. “We’re here,” he whispered. Everyone looked around but could only see the same mists, black water, and stones they’d been seeing all along.

Of course, nobody doubted Jerry.

“Somebody hold me, and be vigilant,” was all he said before closing his eyes. His body wobbled and fell to the side—thankfully, Boney was there to catch him.

“You’re heavy, Master…” he panted. “Have you ever heard of dieting?”

Unfortunately, Jerry’s senses were already borrowing Birb’s.

He laid eyes on the center of the lake, and the shock was so great that his concentration almost broke.