"Indeed a dead body..." Iron said quietly, leaning slightly over the open coffin.
"Yep," Elyria replied curtly.
The skin was mottled with gray-green and brown spots, and the body itself looked as if it had leaked or deflated from the inside. The eyes had sunken deep into the skull, and the thinned, completely blackened lips were pulled back, exposing a macabre grin of teeth. The skin looked wet and flabby—touch it with a finger, and the top layer would slide right off. The clothes were soaked through with sticky, dark slime, and the hair had completely detached from the skull. The smell matched the sight—heavy, pungent, and instantly clogging the nose.
Iron silently examined it for a few seconds.
"Let's open them all," Iron exhaled after a short pause.
"Okay," Elyria agreed without further argument.
The ground beneath their feet let out a hollow rumble. The soil shifted, carefully pushing the deeply buried wooden boxes to the surface.
Barely five minutes passed. Soon, all the coffins were resting right on the dirt.
With another wave of her hand, a magical pulse hooked onto the wooden lids. With a dry crack, creaking, and the rustling of dirt, they all began to lift and fly off the coffins simultaneously, revealing their contents.
At the same time, Iron, addressing Noah and Elyria while slowly walking between the rows, spoke:
"Everyone in these coffins is dead."
The condition of the bodies varied, but none were whole. Some were missing an arm or a leg, some had half their torso torn off, and some were lying entirely without a head. Iron kept walking along the row of coffins, peering closely at the mangled faces.
At some point, he stopped near one of the coffins.
"I remember a few people from when I was here..." Iron froze for a second, examining the corpse. "Here's Loran, for instance. He doesn't look too great either."
Elyria hovered nearby, looking over the open boxes.
"Are Wayland or Walter here?" she asked.
"I don't see them, at least," Iron replied. "There are two options here: either they are dead, or they survived. But..."
He trailed off and shifted his gaze beyond the graveyard's borders—where a giant crater and ruins now stood in place of the former buildings.
"Most likely the first option," Iron finished after a short pause.
He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.
"Alright. Elyria, put the coffins back exactly as they were, and we'll move on."
"Fiiiine," Elyria said, wrinkling her small face.
She waved her hand again, the soil softened, and flexible dry roots and dense layers of turf rose from the depths. They carefully wrapped around the wooden walls, covered the coffins with their lids, and gently pulled them back underground, smoothing over all traces of the excavation.
And right at the moment the last lid disappeared beneath a layer of dirt, a clear line of text from Lumon flashed on Iron's retinas:
[Attention: Safe access to magic unlocked]
"I'll be right back," Iron said to Noah and Elyria.
Before they could answer, he collapsed the space in front of him. Reality warped around him, and with a quiet pop, Iron vanished, instantly reappearing high in the sky—directly above Dornheim.
Practically the entire surrounding forest had burned to the ground: kilometers of black mud, ash, and scorched trees stretched everywhere. The city was reduced to ruins, but amidst all this destruction, a 28-meter tower stood out clearly. Thousands of people were bustling around it and along the entire perimeter.
Iron swept his indifferent gaze over the tower and thought to himself: "Honestly... why the hell do I even need you?"
At that very second, Lumon's voice sounded in his head:
[Attention. Approximately sixty-three thousand soldiers detected within the perimeter zone.]
"Understood," Iron scoffed quietly.
At that moment, someone on the ground craned their neck upward. One of the commanders, making out a lone figure in the clear sky, instantly screamed at the top of his lungs:
"Man in the sky! Fire!"
The soldiers raised their rifles one after another.
Before the bullets even covered half the distance, the space around Iron compressed once more.
A second later, he was already standing on solid ground next to his companions. The soil beneath their feet looked untouched.
Iron calmly adjusted his sleeve and said:
"The trip to Dornheim is canceled for now."
Elyria blinked in bewilderment:
"Weren't we just going to Dornheim?"
Instead of answering, Iron simply pointed to a faintly visible rut carved into the dry ground by wagon wheels.
"Let's walk along it. I'll explain on the way."
They walked leisurely for about five minutes. Elyria, circling above Iron's shoulder, was the first to lose patience:
"Well?"
"I just wanted to take a look at Dornheim," Iron replied calmly.
"You mean kill everyone there?" Noah asked in a clarifying tone.
"Spot on," Iron confirmed curtly. "But now I realize our chances there are practically zero. So first we'll find a proper area for our future state, and then we'll deal with them."
"I see," Elyria grumbled.
They walked in silence for another couple of minutes. The monotonous rustling of dirt underfoot quickly got old, and Iron was the first to break the silence:
"We should kill some time... you guys got any stories?"
Elyria froze in mid-air, pondered for a moment, and then literally beamed:
"Yes! I have one!"
"Let's hear it," Iron said.
The spirit put on an important air, clapped her little hands together, and began speaking in a deep voice:
"Once upon a time, amidst gloomy ruins and wild crags, there lay..."
"Just tell it normally," Noah interrupted her dryly.
Elyria instantly deflated, snorted, and switched back to her usual tone:
"Fine, fine... Anyway, it was a long time ago, I don't even remember how many years. Back then I still had my true form, and I was crazy strong!"
At that moment, Elyria was practically glowing with pride. Noah shot her an exceptionally skeptical look but stayed silent.
"And right around then," she continued, "Nivea joined a certain council... What did they call it... Hmm... Oh, right! The 'Family' Council."
"Seriously?" Iron was slightly surprised.
"My memory is a bit hazy, of course, but yeah, I think so," Elyria nodded. "So anyway, Nivea was always so cold with me, never went out for walks... But for some reason, when that person showed up, she became his loyal pillar of support, and even joined that council for his sake! How is that even possible? We were so close!"
"And what does the word 'close' mean to you?" Noah inquired without much emotion.
"Well... close!" Elyria exclaimed indignantly, spreading her little hands wide. "Hanging out, having fun, playing all the time..."
"Does 'having fun' for you mean annoying her?"
"Weeell... I won't say you're wrong..." she faltered, but immediately caught herself: "Actually, no! I will! You're wrong!"
"Alright, then what's the truth?" Noah sighed.
"The truth is, I just dropped by to see her every day! Yes, she was always running away or hiding, but I think she was just playing hide-and-seek with me! Sometimes we never even parted. Sure, she'd get a little annoyed by it, but I don't think it was serious..."
"I see..." Iron drawled and shifted his gaze. "Noah, you got anything?"
"Hey! I wasn't finished!" Elyria squeaked.
"We get it, you suffered a lot, poor thing," Iron brushed her off with light sarcasm.
Elyria instantly flew right up to his face, nodding in satisfaction:
"Yes, exactly! You're the only one who understands me!"
"Noah?" Iron repeated again.
Noah merely shrugged:
"I practically have no stories. Training, and that's about it. Nothing interesting."
"Got it..." Iron started, but never got to finish his sentence.
On the familiar 3D terrain grid, eleven clear markers lit up directly to their right, near a pile of charred debris. The scanner was constantly running in the background, so the signal registered instantly.
Iron slowed his pace slightly and said in a calm tone:
"We're not alone here."
"Yeah, I already figured that out," Elyria grumbled, dropping a bit closer to his shoulder and perking her ears.
"Yep," Noah confirmed laconically.
They continued walking leisurely down the road. About three minutes later, those same people emerged from the pile of debris, moving to intercept them.
There were indeed eleven of them. Their clothes were greasy, covered in dirt and holes, but each had at least some kind of weapon on them—one had a dented axe, another a jagged sword, and another a heavy scythe.
They were led by a stocky man with a wild look in his eyes. A fresh streak of blood was drying on his right cheek. Catching sight of the trio, he stretched his lips into a wide grin, baring yellowed teeth.
"Who the hell are you guys?" he shouted loudly, blocking their path and adjusting his grip on his axe. "Hand over everything you've got, runts!"
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