Half collapsed halls, broken traps and even more skeletons was all they could find.

Tyson shuddered, looking at a man impaled by a spear the size of a tree.

Suddenly the ground vibrated, and Tyson peered over the terrorists shoulder to see Lucy grin manically, a giant axe stuck in the wall centimetres before her.

She turned towards them, still grinning.

„It seems like the trap was still active.“

Michael shook his head before they proceeded, everyone, except Lucy, more careful.

„Hey, if the temple had been explored to this extend, why seal it?“

This fucking idiot, lets just ignore him and dive deeper.

Lucy shot him a knowing look and they both smiled.

Obviously they had sealed it, they were afraid of its Power. A power that would be theirs.

Stairs descendent deeper and the darkness seemed to swallow them, with only their tiny island of light. It would give Tyson a distinctive advantage.

They arrived at a grand hall, lined with broken golems, made of terracotta and decorated with carvings and runes.

They had to have been at least four meters tall at their prime.

He would have loved to study their runes but aside from the time it would take, he was also running into the limits of his memory.

With no way to record the various rituals, some of the more complicated ones were already slipping his mind.

Traces of battle were the strongest here, whole sections of the walls had been blown off. Still, Tyson felt oddly calm, only fixed on the elevated door at the end of a long flight of stairs.

The Hexenmeister was again carved upon it, rising from a pool of bodies.

The picture was eery and morbid, and they spared it no heed as they entered the chamber.

Now he would only need to grab the Power and get rid of his two companions and he could rule the world once more.

He felt a small sting at the thought of killing Lucy, but that was washed away by the desire to end his tormentor.

The door opened with a rumble and the flickering light of their lantern shone inside the room.

A single sarcophagus stood in the middle of the room.

Dark red magic pulsed around it, slithering around the room like blood vessels.

The malicious aura felt thick in here, like a swamp it tried to seethe into them.

„Lets destroy it and leave.“Michael sighted.

Tyson paid all that no heed as he slithered towards the sarcophagus pushing away the lid with a strange ease to set the Power free.

Memory's streamed into his mind. Of a forbidden ritual a thousand years in the making.

The hundreds of runes symbols ancient and powerful the pinnacle of Kotors witchcraft.

But it needed sacrifices.

So a war was instigated.

They had torn through the kingdom armies dying to protect their country. It had not been enough.

Humans were sacrificed to create rivers of blood and mountains of corpses but it had not been enough.

Feeling his death approach the Hexenmeister had sealed himself here, tempting adventures for decades before finally he was growing closer and closer.

And then he was sealed.

Kill your companions and sacrifice their flesh to fuel our power. We can become Immortals.

Accept forceful class change? Yes No

Tyson's mind was drawn to accept, to grow into something more to…

Serve me. The command echoed in his very soul.

He screamed, drowning. A sick aura clung to him, permeated him.

And then the ancient conqueror remembered, the time when he was still on the street struggling.

When he dared look the world into the eyes and tell it to burn.

He would not give up.

Something shattered and his mind cleared. Like a veil removed he now noticed the thoughts that were clearly not his own.

Fine, then I will kill you all myself.

The voice in his mind oozed of blood and suffering.

He could briefly feel the connection between him and the ancient Hexenmeister deepen before the world turned white.

And then, he stood again.

Not the ethereal floating sensation of his new form, but on his very own legs firmly planted on a white nothingness.

Aaand he was naked.

„So you see yourself as a human despite being a mere creature, no matter you will die all the same.“

He looked up, to see the Hexenmeister stand roughly a hundred meters away from him, distinctly human.

Gone was the silhouette of blood, that now that he thought about it distinctly reminded him of his other class choice…:

Around him a lush forest stated to grow, dark soil replacing the white floor.

Ahh yeah, and somehow the other man was clad in elegant flowing robes.

„So where exactly are we?“

Tyson threw out the question in the hope to get the old villain to monologue while he glanced around trying to get anything on his opponent.

Because as he stood, things didn’t seem to advantageous.

You know with the other party at his peak strength aura bellowing out. An amount of power so significant it draft his like an ember before a blaze.

Lucky for him his opponent seemed to be from the old classic bred of evil, completly underestimating their enemy.

Arrogant in their felony.

„The battlefield of the mind. Not that I would expect a fool like you to know what that means.“

Tyaon could feel the self sufficient smile from a hundred meters away, not that he paid it any mind as clothes formed around his body.

A classic black suite, with a red shirt underneath.

Because he had finally understood what was happening here.

This was their mind.

And their will alone commanded this place

That's why he was still human, because deep down he had not accepted his new life as smoothly as he pretended.

Skyscrapers broke through the forest, as civilization claimed the land around them.

„Impressive, consider me intrigued. Let me open that head of yours.“

Magic started swirling around the Hexenmeister forming enormous blades of blood.

The hydrogen bomb above the old man's head put a hold on that.

Light filled the world and everything around them went up in flames, Tyson included. Despite that he felt no pain or fear.

In the centre of the desolation a single figure formed.

Cold sweat run down the tyrants back.

„No matter the tricks you use it is all futile, you are an ant before true power.“

Suddenly a hand shot towards his throat far to fast for him to react.

„Now submit or suffer.“

Arrogance kills the villain. How blind was I to accuse others and not even recognize my own folly.

Magic washed over him, reaching to devour his body and mind.

But I don’t want to die.

Tysons own defences were feeble, and he desperately struggled to fend of the relentless assault.

Then the whole place shook and surprise was plastered over the old monsters face.

Then another, and another tremor.

And each time his power seem to shrink, his grip weaker.

And then it klick.

„This is not a battlefield of imagination and power, it is one of fear and resolve.“

His words were firm and broke apart the hand holding his throat.

The eyes of the Hexenmeister shook.

„I am still an ancient conqueror not a measly summon that cant even decide its own fate.“

Desperation was in his voice as the world shook again.

„I am going to change the world. And I know I can do it.“

Tyson stood straight and stared into the illusionary night sky.

„We all suffer and struggle, but we can never escape our fate.“

He shouted into the void arms wide.

„Bullshit. I am going to burn down the world and break apart our rotting systems. And then we are going to make a new better world.“

He stared the miserable old man into his eyes. A feeble ego held afloat by stomping on those beneath him. A failed man too inflexible to change.

„You are not going to stop me.“

Everything shattered like broken glass. A last desperate scream filled the world before memory’s flooded his mind.

They were too many, billions of thoughts and concepts, ancient knowledge priceless no doubt.

Then Tyson saw something. With a desperate grip he held it, the rest flowing through his hand like sand, forever gone.

His eyes snapped open.