Panting terribly as I seek refuge behind the lines of my undead and his cultists. The battle is not swaying in my favour any time soon, his cultists have begun to push back mercilessly on my undead and distracted as I am running away from their General, I can't help trying to push the tide back in my favour with a few well-timed explosions.

However, as I run, I make sure every corpse I pass is risen. The hairs on my neck stand and my ears twitch at the approaching whistling sound, on instinct I throw myself on the floor saving my head from being chopped off at the last second.

The General's thrown axe embeds itself in the wall he created and as a testament to the wall, it doesn't let the axe travel too far into it.

I don't bother myself with the wall however. Instead, I prepare a glob of mana in my hands and desperately cast into the wind, "Summon Spirit."

"Ready to leave yet?" I cannot begin to describe how pleased I am to hear Anselm's voice.

"Yes, please."

He floats down to me but that's when I hear it, the stomping, the charging and I see it, the Bullish General headed towards us, paying no mind to cultist or Zombie he squashes on the way.

"No, you don't!" His hands dig into the earth as he moves bringing sand, stone and everything buried underneath to the surface in an avalanche of dirt directed right at us.

"Anselm!"

Anselm hurriedly takes off, my hands in his, bound together by mana so we don't slip. I blink and turn my attention back to the General and his sand; everyone else is buried underneath it but that wasn't its only purpose it seems.

The giant of a man had somehow moulded the different metals in the earth into a singular giant staff. A staff he promptly launches at me.

At the same beat Anselm pulls me up and above him, just before being speared through the chest.

The impact sends us both flying until we're crucified on the wall, this time, this weapon breaks through.

"You shall die!"

Right. My arm, the one attached to Anselm has been dislocated at the shoulder, I'd recognize the feeling anywhere, and it's about to get worse with the adrenaline fading off.

"Anselm! I know it hurts like shit but you're already dead and I'm about to be. Turn intangible!"

I scream it but even if I'm saved from the pain of hanging by a dislocated shoulder I am still going to drop onto a transformed terrain and be met by a beast whose only goal is my Death.

Ah I should have listened to Anselm when I had the chance.

Miraculously, Anselm hears me and lets himself go off the giant staff which managed to spear through him and the wall behind him. Fallen on the ground I groan; adrenaline is all gone and I can feel the pain vividly now.

The General marches forth, his entire body letting off steam into the air and his single steps still thundering throughout the unearthed field. His final step as he stands before me, loudest of all.

For the second time in a week, I lie in the face of death, filled to the brim with hopelessness as I know none of my spells will work to save me, none of my efforts will bear fruit, not in the face of this monster anyway.

"Good," he snorts, "You are still, you are hopeless, and you are powerless. You see at last that Phien is insurmountable and your effects in our plans are but a nuisance."

He says all this but I have only one thing on my mind, "How do you know my name?"

The question visibly surprises the giant General. I clarify the question, "How do you know I was once named Pluzur?"

The General straightens up and snorts once more, "Did you think yourself enshrouded from the gaze of Phien?"

He shakes his head and continues, "You may have slain my foolish colleagues and forced me to take this form to combat you, but now you lay at my feet, the last obstacle to our Lords mass conversion."

He chuckles, its deep and guttural, "You have forsaken the mercy of Phien for the rancid maw of that Wolf, yet now, where is he? Still, your past and your future lie with Phien, what will be your last words, Unbeliever?"

I laugh and it hurts. I'm not sure when but my chest has been damaged and it's hard to breathe. He is less fanatic than the others, intelligent too despite his Bull-like form.

I'm almost grateful he is because now I have some understanding of what the Cult truly is, if only he wasn't about to kill me.

"Well, if I am to be given the privilege of a last word, I will recite the many books I have memorized over the years and afterwards give my critique and personal opinion on them."

"No!" He growls, stepping closer and stomping his feet in anger, "You shall make it short and I will be merciful, else I shall pick you up and pull you apart."

I raise my hands, surrendering, "Very well. Then my last words will be short."

"What are they?"

"Circle of Death."

For a second we both look confused as my words lack the intended effect, he shakes his head and pulls back his arm to deal me my death but as he does a pressure, like a hand lightly squeezing my head comes over me and he falls.

The General screams with anguish as he falls to his knees, Lotar's spell taking effect at last and just in the nick of time.

There's a silver light around us, around me as its epicentre, slowly it takes on a green hue and envelopes the crippled General in a green flame leaving nothing behind but wind.

Victorious I stand and exhale, relieved to still be breathing.

"By the skin of my teeth."

Behind me Anselm groans, "Fuck."

***

With Anselm's flight I make it over the wall without having to become a miner or dig for corpses that were still in relatively one piece to ignite.

We fly all the way to Carbina, over the corn fields, the stables and ranches all without stopping for a break.

It's decided. I'm getting the hell out of Carbina.

With the realization that these Cultist Generals would only become stronger with each fight and render whatever new spell I've thrown at them useless.

Running away and not looking back is the obvious thing to do.

I fought with the first General, the one crazy with magic and introduced him to my undead first. My numbers overwhelmed him and with Leriva at my side to corroborate, I killed him.

The next fight I faced the speed focused General, I don't know why I didn't see it before but he emphasis on speed was to clean out my undead in record speed, which she did.

However, I come to that fight with a new spell prepared, Corpse Ignition. The effect of the entire battlefield exploding around you and showering you with shrapnel made of the bones, teeth and organs of the foe you slain was what bought me victory.

However, the third General, the Bull, such thing would not faze him. He combatted Corpse Ignition and my entire undead by simply burying them under the earth.

His giant, thick form rendered normal attack useless, I wouldn't even dare try it and he, like the last General, found that being reliant on the normal Cultist was a weakness I could exploit and abandoned them.

If it wasn't for Circle of Death then I surely wouldn't be alive. But now, they've seen all my tricks and I haven't learned any new ones, my proficiency still lacks and with how the Bull General managed to come that close to killing me, I surely won't be taking any more risks with my life.

Leriva will simply have to find a way to clear out the last two camps. It won't be an easy task that's for sure, the Cultists, at least the Generals are intelligent and organized, and to the words of the Bull General, they take their forms based on their opponents, based on the resistance given.

Also, according to the Bull General's words, they know about Lotar and they're going to convert the entire village into more Cultists.

How? I don't know that yet. But I don't have to worry about that. Now I have to get out of this place before it kills me.

By the time I'm back there's little to no one moving about in the village and Mathilda is most certainly asleep. My body hurts like hell and the bed tempts me. I need my arm properly reset and food, a lot of food.

"I'm in support of leaving, but let's get some rest first and tell Mathilda of our decision in the morning. We can head to Aste and ask for the Following to send someone here. It's the least we can do."

I groan and let myself fall onto the bed, "We can do a lot less, Anselm, but you're right, we should sleep on this bed one last time."

"That's not what I…ah forget it."

I chuckle at this annoyance but soon find myself under a deep slumber. After a moment I feel it's awfully windy and open my eyes to close the windows.

Peering them open I find myself standing on a rock, a familiar rock. There's a tree up ahead with flowers growing at its base

"It's been a while, Asher." A voice says behind me. I already know who it is before I turn to meet his eyes.

"Lotar." I bite my lips, "Well, this can't be any good."

***

"Lotar." I bite my lips, "Well, this can't be any good."

He chuckles, curled up nice and comfy near the edge of the giant rock we stood on.

"And why can't this be any good, Asher?"

"I don't know, is it any good?" I retort.

Whatever mirth I perceived earlier disappears as the giant white wolf shifts it position, its eyes still half-lid but focused on me.

"No. Not for you anyway."

"Yeah, I thought so, not every day I get kidnapped by a wolf in my sleep."

"Oh no, you're still sleeping, I have simply taken privilege of our contract and summon your consciousness here."

Somehow tired, despite my current body being an illusion, I let myself get comfortable on the floor. "And why have you summoned me here?"

In the depths of my stomach, I knew why. It can't be a coincidence.

He snorts, the puff of air from its nose blows over, nearly knocking me over, "To remind you of your duties and the consequences of failing to perform them."

"Do you read my mind or hear around me at all times?" I find that I'm not comfortable with the idea that a giant wolf is constantly staring down at me in absolute surveillance.

"You are the most recent of my Warlocks, it is only natural I pay more attention to the weakest of the cub."

Weakest? How many people get to throw that jab at me this week?

"You should do more than pay attention if you want to help. How long before I get another boon? The Cultists, if you've truly been watching me then you know why I'm retreating."

Lotar simply shakes its head, "This is the advantage of the Cult, they weaponize experience in the most literal ways, this is why they are a threat. Phien must be defeated as they were once before."

Oh my god, don't tell me I've been roped into some chosen one shit.

"As for the boons I have promised, you will receive them in due time, even I have my own battles to fight, they drain me and limit my abilities." It speaks in a drawl

"Defeat the fourth, take the last blow and end the terrible servant's life and you will get your boon, you will gain my favour and the next boon shall come after the eighth servant has been slain."

So, my efforts are to be doubled each time I gain a boon. But I don't get a boon for killing the speed General? Unfair. I keep my opinion to myself however, I don't exactly want to anger this…

"What exactly are you, Lotar?"

"What am I?" he repeats, puzzled.

"Are you a god?" I shake my head, the system said he was a Great Spirit, "No, you're not a god, you're a Spirit, but you're not like Anselm, is there a difference between Spirit and Soul? Is Phien the same with you? Or are they something else entirely?"

Again, Lotar simply snorts, "Some of these questions, you have to find the answer for yourself, as you have come to acknowledge no doubt, exploring the world around you and interpreting the knowledge that pervades it brings much progress."

"As for the nature of our enemy, Phien, they were and are one of the many gods that rule the cosmos and beyond, Phien is a bringer of unity to their followers, but the truth is, Phien is a ravenous devourer; hungry, for a cosmos where all is one with one and all that remains is the will of all coalesced into the will of one; theirs."

So basically, they want to swallow everything up.

"Why would a god want this? Aren't gods meant to be good? Like Anera? And if Phien is truly a god then why haven't they just gone ahead and swallowed us all themselves?"

Lotar guffaws, a light glittering in his previously doper eyes, "Gods are beings of great power, power you and even I cannot hope to truly comprehend. They are only bound to their whims; they are not obligated to have any semblance of good as you call it. Such notions are trivial to the gods."

It shifts, twirling around at the edge getting into another comfortable splay, "As per your notions of good and evil, wouldn't it be rightly evil for Anera, Goddess of Light, the light of life, to abandon the Souls that linger behind in between the realms for eternity? Punishing them for their refusal, and often confusion by binding them to their death place?"

I nod. If it weren't for my powers, I wouldn't have gotten Anselm out of that cave. As of yet, I still don't know how long ago he died, he never got to see the sun rise and set.

Humans came through the cave sparingly and none had the power to sense and release him of his prison. A prison of his own confusion and doubt, of his humanity.

"It is all truly frustrating, Asher," Lotar says, tiredly as if sensing my growing dread at the news that Gods are bound by no alignment, "As I told you, I have my own battles to fight, much more complicated and less straightforward than yours. Unfortunately; Phien used to be a God, a being of great power. Until they attempted to slay Anera and her twin to seize the world of for themselves, this action was widely unpopular among the Gods. They were struck down swiftly, but now, a millennia later, I wonder if perhaps being stripped of most of their power was their true intent." Lotar seems to whine at this, its eyes drooping, weary at the mere thought of it.

Still, I push. "What do you mean?"

It sighs but continues, "Previously being a god, a powerful god too, they reserve much of their previous strength despite being sealed off by their fellow divines. But the strength they lost still plays to their advantage because they can now exert greater influence on the mortal realms without shredding them to pieces by being present."

"Without shredding the mortal realm to pieces?" I nearly choke on my own saliva as I hear this, having to beat my chest for relief.

"Gods are not allowed in the mortal realms. Their very nature prevents such from happening." Lotar says.

Their nature? "What does that mean?"

Lotar's eyes begin to glow a bright silver, sucking me into the stare, "By their nature, even the weakest of gods will rip apart any mortal realm they step into in their true, pure form. To represent their interests, they guide and bless their followers and take on avatars. Now, enough questions, wake up and act!"

***

Jolted back into consciousness I find my bedsheets soaked deeply in my sweat. I'm not any better off, completely drenched in it.

Catching my breath and coming down from the adrenaline high jumping out of whatever dream wheel Lotar snuck me into, I reflect on his words.

The entire point of the conversation was to remind me that passing up on the opportunity to kill some more of Phien's servants, the Generals, would likely be a mistake that will be punctuated by the supernatural hunger I signed up to feel whenever I go long without ending one of their lives.

I honestly didn't think it would come into play so soon, and even if it did, I never expected to be pushed to grow constantly along with my enemies who happen to do it so effortlessly.

I suppose that's the difference between a boon from a Great Spirit and a boon from a bonafide God, or at least, a being that used to be a God.

But I've learned a lot from the conversation with Lotar. The Gods are obviously aware of Phien and their workings here in this world.

If it's all going according to their plan, and being sealed off was their true intent… Well, I'm not sure about that, but for the most part, it is comforting to know I have some back up, even if it's not directly.

There's also the chance that I might have been sent to this world to save it.

Despite how narcissistic that sounds it could be true. Back home, back in my old world, there were many stories of heroes born in other worlds yet crossing and saving others. Perhaps I am one such hero, because this is sounding all very prophesy like.

Before I throw myself at the conclusion though, I'll have to speak to Anselm and perhaps Leriva, if she ever wakes up that is. Else I'll just have to entrust the truth of Phien and his servants to Matilda and hope for the best.

Right now, I don't bother trying to summon the warrior, he isn't here, I can feel when he's around.

Another thing about magic I've begun to notice; the more I use it, the less the System's guides. Now my mere senses feel his presence when he arrives and feels him leave, even when I have yet to summon him. Unfortunately, this doesn't work with other spirits, for the others I still have to use Sense Death to determine their position. I have theories for why this is, but none of that matters.

With Anselm absent to hear my tale, my next need lies in the pantry. I am thirsty and starved.