The pyres, lit by the fire mages, as was tradition, and with light wisps over them, which were going to be extinguished only after the fires themselves died out, lightened the night.  No one spoke as fifty of them, the best of the best, burned.

Some were crying silent tears, others were standing to attention, fists on their chest. But silence reigned as Leander made the last details of the stone slab with the names.

If one were to look onto it, they would see:

We don't know who died when, and we mourn them equally. This stone slab is not written alphabetically, for everyone who came forward with the names and title of their loved ones did so at different times.

Then, they would see names and titles and small glimpses into the lives of the fallen fifty. The slab would remain standing long after they left Puebleque. For Leander had used the cracked dungeon core to make sure that the slab was a fake dungeon core. In the hopes that it was going to defend this territory from new dungeon cores. A final brave deed for those who have perished.

When Leander finished, he whipped sweat from his brows, and then took out a Blue Bell and placed it below the stone slab. He stepped back, and let the next person place a flower.

One by one, the adventurers went to the slab, paid their respects, and returned to their spots. Only Claudius had his head bowed. He clutched a lily. One he found around the small pond in the outskirts of Puebleque, and he stared at his feet.

Valerie was behind him. She cleared her throat, and he looked at her.

"Are you going to tell me to stop mopping, too?" Claudius asked her. He kept his tone respectful, just like he had kept his tone such with all those who had tried to console him.

"If you don't go and leave her a flower, she will be the only one who doesn't get one," Valerie told him. She gave him a light push, and he made an uncertain step towards the slab.

Claudius turned to see her stern expression, and his head hung back towards the ground.

"I am a berserker. I should have led the charge against the wendigo. But, no. As always, I was a slowpoke," he let out a sob at Antonia's favorite nickname for him.

"She was the tank. It was her duty to lead the charge. Claudius, if you say something like "it should have been me who died" I will speak to guild master Leander to drop you off at Huergaz," Valerie threatened. Claudius's eyes widened.

"I need to be there when the Father of Monsters shows himself. I need to be the one to plunge my axe into his head," Claudius more pleaded than spoke. Valerie pointed at the slab.

"Face your guilt and don't let it rule you. Only then you can face something that saw the end of an era," Claudius dragged his feet towards the slab. He knew that, after the pyres died down, the ashes were going to be collected and buried under the slab. Antonia had always wanted to return to their farm, to grow old there. Now, she won't be returning there, even in death.

Claudius placed the lily, and bent to kiss the slab. As if he were kissing's his sister's forehead. Something that had annoyed her greatly, as she grew up.

"Tony, I miss you. But I will get the bastard. I swear. And you will be remembered," Claudius went back to his spot and felt an arm gently squeeze his shoulder.

"It will never be easier," Valerie told him, face grim. "And I can't imagine how hard it is to lose a twin. But, know that, because of Antonia and the other 49 heroes, countless people won't have to lose anyone."

"But not everyone," Claudius reminded her. "A lot more will have to die until we manage to get Alcandino clean of that, which plagued it."

"And we will," Leander told him. "We will die, all of us, if we have to. But there won't be any need for adventurers in Alcandino after us. No matter the price."

Claudius turned to stare at his sister's pyre. Death meant that he would get teased by her again. Spar with her again. And, that wasn't so bad.

The day after, everyone was sullen. The funeral had ended with Claudius telling Leander about the stone slab in the catacombs, and Soed and Alklair had gone down to check it out.

The rest of the guild was training. Individual training, formations. Baleg was running them ragged, and he, too, was training as much as he could.

But, for now, both former partners were in the catacombs. With the elf being uneasy, for he could feel the unmistakable levels of Asmodeos's mana, and there was no denying now that Soed was Asmodeos — now.

"If you are going to stab me in the back, could you wait until I translate this, dear heart?" Asmodeos spoke, lips turned up into a smirk.

"Did you enjoy leading us by the noses, Asmodeos? Did you enjoy playing the mourning receptionist at the funeral?" Alklair had known who Soed was ever since the medallion had been melted. Dragon fire was the only thing that could melt it, and Asmodeos had tricked Ebony into helping.

"I was mourning for true. Let me guess, you think I am the Father of Monsters," Asmodeos shook his head. "Stop filling your pretty head with nonsense, lover, and get over here. I don't know this word."

"I am no longer your lover," Alklair snapped. Could he believe Asmodeos? Trust in him that he had not been behind this all?

"We never broke up, Al. Are you breaking up with me now? After everything you did wrong?" Asmodeos sounded angry, for once, and Alklair blinked.

"Tell me the truth. Where do you come from? Where did you hide all those years? What do you know about all of this?" At the last part, Alklair pointed at the stone slab.

"Only if you kiss me," Asmodeos told him, turning around and zeroing in his eyes into Alklair's.

"So, the price for your help is...my servitude?" Alklair snapped. Asmodeos snorted.

"What servitude, lover? Have I not been a support for you, when you lost everything? When have we been anything but equals? Come over and kiss me before I decide that I should not forgive you, after all," Alklair sighed and leaned in, for the first time in five hundred years, sharing a kiss with the one who he loved still.