A howl cut through the mist, seeming to echo from all directions at once. Another replied soon after, followed by a third.

Everyone looked at each other, suddenly filled with adrenaline. The ambush had failed. They had to run, now.

“RUN!”

Nobody knew who said it first, but the entire group instantly sprinted away, spreading out a bit to not get in each other’s way. Axehand stood up again, glaring at the mist-faced death knight that had easily sent him flying. At least he’d delayed enough for Boboar and Headless to run away.

That death knight was a terrifying opponent. Axehand could feel his body and soul boiling, and not from Jerry’s overcharging. His breathing felt deeper, his gaze sharper. The bones on his skull morphed into a grin as he stared right back at the mist-face, who only regarded him coldly. It clearly regarded Axehand as nothing more than an annoyance, and though it had the strength to be arrogant, Axehand itched to rub that cockiness into its helmet.

He crouched and got ready to charge as everything else washed away. All lumberjacks were proud warriors; after all, the trees never win.

“Axehand! We need you!” A cry cut through Axehand’s battle haze. He turned to find his Master—Jerry—staring with plea.

Axehand was his own Master now. He was strong enough to attain freedom, if he wanted to, but he still chose to follow Jerry out of respect. Now, Axehand’s mind was torn; on one hand, he wanted to fight, to kill or die.

On the other hand… Though Axehand was a proud, lonesome individual, he still regarded this group as his friends. They’d all grown together and shared many fond memories, be it relaxing around a campfire or battling their enemies.

Axehand spared a last glance at the mist-face, grunting a challenge and a promise to return. He then turned and decisively departed.

He had chosen to help. That would get him a good battle too, anyway.

The mist-faced warrior watched Axehand’s departure coldly. It had received the challenge and ignored it. Its only goal was to protect its Master; everything else was secondary.

Arakataron watched the group go as well, and he did not pursue. His purple flames took on a mocking tint and dimmed down as he refocused on his ritual. He knew that they could not escape.

***

Axehand and Horace brought up the rear as everyone else jumped from stone to stone like deer. Their gazes flickered left and right, expecting danger to appear from anywhere. The howls kept coming.

The stone islands that previously hampered them were now as easy to cross as gaps in the sidewalk—adrenaline can do wonderful things.

“Jerry, guide us!” said Horace, his eyes sharp as they surveyed the mist. Their hundred-foot eyesight range was neither short nor long. They were almost surrounded and relied on Birb for a way out, as it flew ahead and scouted possible routes—in this terrain, it could move much faster than them.

Of course, Birb was just a bird, and its instructions were relayed and translated through Jerry.

“Go right! That’s our only chance to—”

Another howl filled their ears, closer this time, and an elongated form burst through the mist. It wore plate armor and its arms were unnaturally long, wielding a sword each. It roared as it found them.

The death knight crossed the stones easily and jumped at Marcus with abnormal speed. The treasure hunter almost fell back.

An axehead flashed at the last minute. Axehand, already overcharged, smashed into the death knight and cleaved an entire arm off as he pushed it back. At the same time, two arrows flew precisely into the death knight’s eyes. It only stood for another moment before collapsing into the dark water.

Marcus was filled with relief that was instantly broken when the mist burst with a large number of howls. Two blurry forms phased closer; one was a long-armed death knight, and the other a tall, grotesque caricature of a man sewn together from multiple bodies.

It sported two legs, two heads, and six arms, each wielding a weapon. Its body—two torsos stacked on each other—was bloated so much that its stitches burst with dark red blood, and every step it took caused blood and pus to leak from several wounds.

It was absolutely disgusting.

Jerry had seen two of these monstrosities on the Damn Wall, but never up-close. It was disturbing enough to make even him, a necromancer, frown—and that’s without mentioning everyone else.

Axehand and Horace fell on the enemies as the rest kept running. Blades and arrows whooshed through the air, bringing intense violence as they hacked through Arakataron’s undead. Both the monstrosity and the death knight fell, but the battle had taken some time, and more enemies were catching up.

Moreover, the death knights were physically gifted, meaning they could run faster than Jerry and the rest of the group. More undead occasionally appeared from either the left or right, stalling the group. Fortunately, Axehand and Horace were faster than the rest, so they could stay back to deal with the enemies and then quickly catch up.

“Wait!” Jerry shouted suddenly, screeching to a halt. “There are three death knights and five monstrosities between us and the shore. They’ve gathered up!”

Everyone grit their teeth. The patrols furthest away from them had time to group up and were apparently too strong to ignore. Even Axehand and Horace couldn’t deal with three death knights in a short amount of time.

“What do we do, Jerry?” asked Marcus, filled with tension. They were being hunted and standing still.

“We can’t get through them!” shouted Jerry. “Let’s run around! Follow me!”

He quickly dashed to the left, heading to a different part of the shore. Everyone followed him, but a moment later, Jerry’s face went pale. “Crap! They’re shadowing us!”

If the grouped-up undead had headed directly for them, Jerry could have run diagonally to bypass them. It wasn’t a safe plan, but it could have worked.

Unfortunately, these undead were coordinated by someone smart. They didn’t blindly rush towards the group’s current location. Instead, they moved in parallel, keeping themselves between the group and the shore. They had to cross a longer distance, as they were circling around the lake at a farther radius, but they were faster anyway.

“We’re trapped! They’re guarding the shore!” said Jerry.

“Well, guide us! What do we do!?”

“Keep running!”

They were out of options. All they could do was keep running around the lake and hope for something to appear.

That’s what they did. For a few minutes, the group circled around the lake at a radius between the center and the shore, while a large squad of undead circled in parallel with them and stopped them from escaping. At the same time, every other undead of Arakataron was chasing them, and enemies occasionally burst through the mist.

Whenever that happened, Axehand and Horace were barely able to react in time.

“We need to do something, Jerry!” Marcus cried out. “I can’t run much longer!”

“Crap!” Jerry grit his teeth. Birb could fly so it was much faster than everyone else, giving Jerry a good overview of the situation, but he could still see no way out. Birb could survive, maybe Horace or Axehand too, but the rest were doomed.

Going back meant death.

Going forward meant death.

Standing still meant death.

Running around also meant death, just delayed. They couldn’t keep running in circles forever!

What other option was there?

None, thought Jerry, feeling melancholy overtake the tension. Oh, I will never see my chair again… I will never make shoes… Maybe Arakataron will forgive us if I make him a wonderful pair. Does he even have feet?

Jerry hadn’t seen the lich’s feet through the robes, but it had to have a pair, right?

However, not everyone was equally resigned. “We must go underwater and swim to the shore!” said Laura, her eyes hardening. At this moment of life or death, her resolve shone through.

“Are you insane? That’s suicide! We’ll die!” Marcus shouted back.

“Not immediately.”

“I don’t want to die!”

“There’s no other choice. If we jump in, we can still make it! If we stay, we’ll die!”

“Argh!”

Marcus grit his teeth so hard it hurt as he looked around. There has to be a way, he kept repeating in his head, there has to!

His gaze took in everything. The calm dark waters, the panicking forms of his companions, the random stone islands and the few taller rocks that pierced several feet into the air.

Damn it… He clenched his fists. This is all my fault. I never should have come here! Ugh! I had Dorman’s treasure in my grasp and chose to die instead! What an idiot!

It was ironic. Marcus had discovered the location of Dorman’s legendary treasure, but an evil Archmage just had to set up lair there and make the entire area forbidden. The treasure was still here, probably, hidden inside one of the myriad rocks, but Marcus was destined to come close but never touch it…

Wait! A realization struck him like lightning. His eyes burned. The treasure is sealed inside a stone. Death energy can’t penetrate stone. If we find the treasure…we can escape the death energy! We can hide underwater!

Marcus suddenly roared with laughter, surprising everyone else.

“Did you finally go insane?” asked Boney, shaking his head. “I’d seen it coming.”

“I found it!” Marcus yelled. “I found the way!”

“What way?”

“The way to survive!”

Surprise and elation shone in everyone’s eyes. They kept running, but a barrage of questions assaulted Marcus.

“The treasure is hidden inside of these stones. It is sealed! If we can find it and get inside, we can escape the death energy for a while. We can hide underwater!”

Everyone was puzzled for a while before their eyes shone. It was a desperate plan, but if it worked…there was a chance! Escape was possible!

“We need to find the crown-shaped stone formation!” Horace’s eyes flashed as he looked around. They’d covered a good part of the lake already but hadn’t spotted it yet. Maybe it wasn’t exactly as they pictured it? “Are you sure, Marcus?”

“I—I have a picture! Wait!”

Marcus scrambled to take out his notebook. His trembling hands sent a few trinkets flying, but he couldn’t care less. He hurriedly flipped to a specific page, where he’d once copied the riddle of the pyramid in the Sea of Sands. “Look!”

Everyone burned the image into their minds; it wasn’t just crown-shaped rocks.

Two crowned humans held hands under a complex constellation, pointing down. Their arms formed a downward triangle, and Marcus pointed at it while hurriedly saying, “This means the Valley of Kings, where we are! Look lower!”

Under the kings’ hands was a crown-shaped hill. A tall, slim rock stood in the middle, surrounded by a bunch of shorter, rounder ones. A white bubble could be seen inside the base of the tall rock, containing a crown—the sign of treasure.

“We’re looking for this rock formation,” Marcus explained quickly. “The treasure is sealed inside its base, which means it’s hollow. If we can create an opening and patch it up quickly, we can survive there for a bit!”

“Won’t we run out of air?”

“Not immediately! It’s better than running out of blood!”

A crown-shaped stone formation? Jerry squeezed his mind and asked Birb too. The two of them combined had seen almost half of this lake, but nothing resembling a crown so far.

“We must keep looking!” he exclaimed. “Quick, let’s run in circles!”

“Wait.” Horace’s voice cut through their panic. However, he didn’t speak anymore, keeping his eyes focused on the notebook. Everyone stared at him, ready to burst from the tension.

“I know what this mean—” he began saying, but a sharp howl interrupted him. A long-armed form jumped out of the mist; it had sneaked up on them while they were busy. It howled as it swung its greatsword at Headless. The zombie tried to block but flew backward from the impact.

The Billies were there to catch him, thankfully, but the death knight was upon them again. It brought its greatsword down on their heads.

Horace had no time to react. Axehand did.

A bulky form flew through the air and crashed into the death knight, drawing him into a roll on a stone island. When they stopped at the very edge, Axehand was at the top. He rained axes on the enemy, who defended with all its might and even struck back some. Their attacks carved the stone before Axehand managed to bury an axe into the enemy’s helmet, destroying it instantly and tossing the body into the water.

He then accelerated to catch up to the others, who hadn’t stopped running.

Horace lowered his bow.

“Focus, Horace! Keep talking!” cried out Laura.

“I’m sorry for trying to save our lives.”

“I make snarky comebacks, you explain stuff!” Boney spoke up. “You said ‘wait.’ You know something.”

“I do.” He nodded. “We’re not looking for the crown. We’re looking for just the middle rock.”

Marcus was quick to disagree. “That makes no sense.”

“I know what I’m saying. It’s a legend of these lands. The tall rock stands alone.”

Horace’s stare could cut through iron as he buried it deep into Marcus’s eyes, and the latter reeled. Jerry said, “I trust Horace! Let’s find the lone rock!”

“We already have.” The hunter chuckled. “It was there at the very start, as we entered the lake.”

Jerry’s eyes shone. Indeed, there was an abnormally tall rock there, standing upright and mocking them like the middle finger of foresight.

However, since they were running circles around the lake, they were still a quarter away from their entrance spot. At least the rock was far enough away from the shore that they could reach it without fighting the death knights—probably.

Laura’s eyes sparked with realization. “Oh no!” she exclaimed, panting. “We have to hurry!”

“Yeah. So we better get going.” Jerry grinned. As long as there was hope, the world was bright!

Horace looked at Jerry and nodded, while Axehand grunted in approval as he took a sip from his flask. More howls assaulted them at that moment, as the death knights from behind were catching up, and the group accelerated again, sending burning spike into Marcus’s and Laura’s ribs.

They were already exhausted, but they had to make it to the mysterious rock. The rock was their savior. They believed in the rock.

And, if Horace was wrong, they would just die.