The group rode hastily across the sand with a billowing dust cloud following. Azhir rode front, and the others followed behind, letting the experienced warrior of the sand lead their journey toward the imperial lands. They left Parthus with the morning starlight behind their backs and headed toward the empire for the next step in their journey.

  Priscilla rode in the back, watching over the group. The handful of people she entered the sand lands with had grown exponentially with the addition of the warriors; now, over fifty people joined her on the journey home.

  The hanging starlight beat down on their group, an all-encompassing warmth that fueled their journey as the golden silhouette of Parthus dissipated behind them.

  Priscilla looked at Azhir's broad back as he led the group toward the Sunstone Pass. Parts of his body were still covered in bandages from his battles against the demon's ambush. "Will you manage to hold out until we get to Blackthorn?" She asked the man.

  "That's right!" Jensen laughed. "That good-for-nothing brother of mine is unlikely to have made strong fighters yet, so having more allies will be a great reassurance."

  "Against the evils of the world, we're happy to help. The Matriarch's enemies are our enemies, and her friends are our friends." Azhir stated.

  "You're exaggerating again, Jens." Priscilla scolded from the back. "I'm just a girl, like any other."

  "Stupid," Vera uttered.

  "Brute," Vorn echoed.

  "He really is." Priscilla nodded.

  "Oh, damn! Now they've even got the ice! What a chill!" Jensen laughed.

  Hearing his comments, the girls couldn't help but roll their eyes. The anxiousness of the unknown began to dissipate from the carefreeness of their conversation. Things were destined to be difficult, but they had each other's backs, alleviating the weight that would otherwise burden their souls.

  As they progressed further toward the empire, a strange sense of oppression spread through the air. Thick silence pervaded through the land as if every creature had vanished.

  "Was it this quiet when we were coming?" Priscilla asked.

  "Definitely not." The others replied.

  "Wait here, Esteemed One. I'll scout ahead." Azhir said before trotting off ahead.

  After some time, Azhir returned with quickened gallops. "It's terrible, come!"

  "What's the matter!?" They questioned, but they followed after the man who turned around and returned from where he came from.

  It wasn't long before they reached a village that lay slightly off the merchant's trail, which led to the sand lands. The place was lifeless and silent, ominously so for a territory that should be brimming with people.

  Azhir got off his horse and went further ahead. Within the village's well at the center, a terrible stench wafted through the air, causing the faces of everyone present to tense and scowl. "They're all dead." He said as he gazed down the well.

  Priscilla joined him by the well and looked down. Mangled corpses filled the well. Their bodies were torn and ravaged, causing shock to be engraved into their faces. But the strangest of all was their emptied eye sockets.

  "Those damned beasts," Priscilla scowled, striking her hand against the well's brick lining.

  "Their deaths are fresh," Azhir said. "It might be Banshee's doing as she fled. Or there might be more of their kind nearby."

  "Either way, we can't let them get away with this," Priscilla said as her grip on the well clenched. "Let's go, find these wretched fiends and put an end to them."

  But as she spoke, rustling sounded from the well, causing everyone's gaze to turn toward its depths.

  The rotting bodies began writhing, the bloodied flesh moving against one another. Gurgling noises bubbled within their chests, and their limbs began creaking as bones jutted from their joints.

  Blood trickled down Priscilla's lip as she bit into it, coldness radiating from her gaze as she watched the changes below. She raised her hand and sparkled a blaze in her palm that she threw into the well, causing an erupting flame to rampage through the tight passage. The bodies shrieked and sizzled as the fire consumed them.

  "They're proliferating their seeds and turning people into more of their foot soldiers," Priscilla said. "Time is running out for the empire and the continent. We have to move."

  "But... are you sure there wasn't someone alive in there!?" One of the mercenaries asked.

  "Definitely not," Priscilla said matter-of-factly. "Enough, there'll be more casualties if we don't hurry. Let's go. Stick together!"

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  They raced through the sand, the oppressive silence weighing on their shoulders. As their group made their way through Sunstone Pass and into the empire's lands, the same stench filled the air, causing widespread discomfort.

  Bodies scattered across the merchant's path. Some lay at the end of extended drag marks, while others seemingly collapsed into craters as if someone tossed them. The group rode with disgust, painting their faces. The demon's grasp was becoming too blatant, and they had to stop it.

  The further they went, the more the stench magnified. And the more barren the camps became, where even bodies became scarce. Their journey proved unfulfilling as no demons crossed their path, and finally, they neared a village a day away from Blackthorn to rest.

  "This is ridiculous," Jensen huffed as he sat against a desolate house.

  "I don't understand how we haven't found anything by now. It's as if everyone vanished from existence." Vera said as she sulked down nearby.

  Priscilla sighed and sat with the rest. "It's a challenge. I don't think it was Banshee alone that caused all of this. Their plans must be escalating if they're getting so bold and acting so confidently."

  "At this rate, we'll be better off rushing toward Blackthorn as soon as the horses are rested. We must rush for the imperial city before it's too late."

  "Will we be able to truly make a difference?" Vorn asked. "Their numbers seem greater than what we've imagined. Won't we just get swept up in their frenzied hordes?"

  "We will be the difference, Vorn," Priscilla said. "If the empire's damned already, then so be it. We will be the change that protects the unsullied people from the demon's clutches."

  "I'm tired of losing things, tired of making mistakes, and regretting what is yet to come. I won't let the demons continue their onslaught without opposition."

  "We believe in you, My Lady. If anyone can be the change in this war between races, it is you." Vorn replied, with her hand to her chest.

  "The demons may have great numbers, but their insatiable hunger is a double-edged sword. They feed on the people and on their own. If we all come together against them, including the warriors of the empire who realize the threat lurking in their shadows, we will be much stronger." Azhir said.

  "Yes, that's one thing the demons lack. They follow orders, but their instincts still come out on top. Humans are much stronger when pushed to the brink. We will prevail. I believe that." Priscilla said as she gazed at the starlit sky. Once she spoke, her heart quivered as the markings engraved on her body subtly lit up beneath her flesh. Power surged through her veins as a balance formed between her desires and her previous apprehensions.

  Priscilla was a wayward soul, always trying to survive but not knowing how to do so. Her goals were naive and simple. They merely supported her sanity in the periods between her death and returning to life, but they were not fuel for the soul. A person desperately craved goals to truly survive, a purpose that would guide them along their life and bring them to greater places.

  For the wayward witch, the demon's cruelty was that breaking point that gave her a concrete direction, which her soul pulled her toward.

  "I've made up my mind. If father played a part in the demon's return, I'll stop him. I'll become the duchess and take my rightful claim to the empire's lands for the people's sake." Priscilla uttered. "And if the empire itself has fallen and the imperial family is in their clutches, then I'll reclaim that position as well."

  "I won't let the unknowns continue weighing on my choices. We will fight. And we will rise up. You and me, together." She smiled at her companions. "Some might call this rebellion, but considering what we've seen thus far, it seems reasonable enough, doesn't it?"

  Jensen laughed as he struck the building with his fist. "Damned right! That's what I'm talking about, Princess. To hell with the empire and its flimsy titles when there's man-eating creatures in every damn hole eager to pop out."

  "The loyal men and women of Parthus will support you with whatever you decide, Esteemed One." Azhir nodded respectfully. "Such are the Matriarch's wishes."

  "Yes, we're all with you." Vera and Vorn both agreed. "These beasts don't deserve mercy. If they've infected the empire with their vileness, we must stop it."

  Priscilla smiled and laughed. The feeling of being accepted despite the differences marking her was a relief that washed over her.

  'Do you see this, Rin? The second chance I got because of you has blossomed into relationships I never thought possible,' Priscilla thought with tears cradling the corners of her eyes.

  She rubbed her eyes with the sleeve of her gown and inhaled deeply. "Come evening, we'll head for Blackthorn. Remain vigilant, be careful, and let's destroy these damned demons."

  Meanwhile, while Priscilla and her group were journeying toward Blackthorn. Those residing in the town were assaulted by the mad emperor's troops.

  Clashes echoed across every street as the trained militia and mercenaries struck back against the imperial soldiers. The emperor's men were starved for conflict and eager to accomplish great deeds for their leader. Ignoring that they were striking at their own people without so much as a second thought.

  Jared clashed with one of the expedition knights leading the empire's attack. His warhammer struck against the man's gilded shield with a loud thud and bounced back, causing him to grunt. "You damned dogs, how can you obey that demented emperor's orders!?" He raged through a grimace.

  The knight ignored him and struck with his sword, impaling it toward Jared's chest.

  Jared lurched his body to the side, barely grazing the blade, before striking out with his foot and kicking at the off-balance knight. "Damn, silent bastard. You won't win that easily. You have no idea whose territory you've invaded. Our leader isn't someone any mere mortal can compete with."

  "Are you talking about that fool Count Blackthorn? Foolish," The knight scoffed before striking again. Each attack aimed at Jared's vital points without fault.

  "You-" Jared's words cut short as the blade grazed past his ribs, drawing a sliver of blood to run across his flesh. "Fine, enough talk. You don't deserve it."

  Jared lobbed his warhammer frantically, aiming it at the knight's gaps. He repeatedly struck nothing but the knight's shield, but the weight of his warhammer placed immense pressure on the knight. After dozens of strikes, the man's wrist numbed as his grip on the shield loosened, and it clattered against the paved stones. Jared took advantage of this moment and heaved the hammer with all the force he could muster, slamming it into the knight's temple and causing a deluge of blood to spray.

  "Fucker, what now!?" Jared spat as the man's bloodied body flung across the road and slammed into a building where several imperial soldiers clashed against some mercenaries.

  The knight gurgled and moaned. His hoarse voice clawing against the eardrums of everyone present. The half-dead man pushed himself up, and his head turned at an inhumane angle toward Jared as a sinister grin tugged at his bloodied lips.