After killing the last enemy, the adventurers began searching the battlefield for hidden cultists and attending to the wounded comrades. Surprisingly, no one on the defender's side died, and the cargo was mostly intact. However, there was one thing that made no sense. The place where the prisoner was held was empty, but not quiet. The cultist spy was gone. It was expected, and the number of killed cultists made it a worthy exchange. However, in the vicinity, adventurers found two dead cultists.

  “Why did he kill his rescuers?” Arthuros was flabbergasted.

  “Some kind of personal conflict?” The sergeant mused.

  “Something similar to Dungeon Mistress stories?”

  “Right.” Tirutur nodded after a moment. “Dungeon Mistress was telling things like that. According to her, cultists will start killing each other immediately over the spoils of war. So who knows if they don’t kill each other already.”

  “If that was the reason, then they are really mad.” Arthuros shakes his head.

  “They are mad regardless of the reason. Twisted gods erode their minds until they become mindless beasts.”

  It was the first time for people from the south to see paladins stationed in On Taram. Their skin was deeply tanned, and their muscles bulged with every move. Yet their moves were somehow careful as if they anticipated that they could trip at any moment. But when guards at the gate saw their path, they were stunned. The sergeant was at the early grandmastery level, and his men were not too far behind him.

  “Did you see their skills?” Whispered one guard to another.

  “Yes. Palladins had always had impressive paths, but that was something different.”

  “I don’t think they are regular paladins. And they come from On Taram too. What are they doing there?”

  “Shit, I don’t want to know. Better forget what we saw.”

  “True.”

  It takes a whole day for Grand Priestess Eleana to go through all the scrolls and, most importantly, understand. But even the help of the Grand Inquisitor and the Head Librarian wasn’t enough to clear all the questions. However, Sergeant Tirutur, who had brought the scrolls, was himself expected to give testimony about the cultist attack and the loss of the prisoner.

  In the office of the Grand Priestess Eleana, besides the Grand Priestess, were also the Commander of the paladins, the Grand Inquisitor, and the library Head.

  “Sergeant, I need to congratulate you and your men on the progress on your path,” Commander said. “While we know you all won’t be slacking off during your stay there, we didn’t expect significant growth from anyone there.”

  “Thank you, Commander. I think our progress is exactly because of that. We spent all our time on training. Combining that with knowledge about grand magic and challenges of the dungeon, it’s hard not to move forward in someone's path.”

  Commander nodded in agreement.

  “Sergeant, let’s begin with the attack of the cultist on your way here. Please tell us what happened.” The Grand Inquisitor asked.

  “Understood. I will start with my orders. General Serator explicitly ordered me to bring the scrolls here or destroy them if not possible. Bringing the prisoner to justice was a secondary goal. That's why I, and adventurers, prepared accordingly. I keep the documents away and out of sight of the prisoner to ensure he doesn’t steal them. Due to orders and the number of attackers, we ignored the prisoner. In exchange, we managed to kill two low-level necromancers and twenty-one cultists. Two more were killed by a prisoner.”

  “The prisoner killed his rescuers? Do you know why?” The inquisitor asked.

  “Yes. Both had wounds from a dagger. And all adventurers and my men were fighting with the attackers. As for the reason, I can only speculate. It could be a personal grudge or just madness.”

  “And about the cultists. Can you tell us anything about the Dungeon Mistress meeting with the prisoner?” The Grand Priestess spoke.

  “Not much. I was there to ensure the Dungeon Mistress's safety. But we were also standing at a distance, so beside the last part where she was laughing and calling him a fool, believing in empty promises, I didn’t hear anything.”

  “Did you witness anything strange during these talks?” The Grand Inquisitor inquired.

  “No, sir. There was some tension among the grand priests, but my magical talents are mediocre, so I cannot tell what happened exactly.”

  “I’m interested in the Dungeon Mistress story about what would happen if cultists won. Can you tell us anything about it?” The Head Librarian asked.

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “I suspect that in the scrolls is a more detailed version. I also witnessed a discussion between the Dungeon Master and a young sorceress. The whole idea is quite simple. The archlich wants to destroy literary everything. So if they won, all farms would be burned down, cities would be razed to the ground, and so on. That means all those cultists will die from starvation, and liches who survive to the end will own nothing. Dungeon Mistress also mentioned to the sorceress that the detailed outcome depends on how tight a grip twisted gods have on the cultists. To achieve total distraction, cultists need to be enslaved by them, and don’t have free will. But if the influence of the twisted gods is more like guidance, then it never happened because sooner or later, they start to fight each other over the spoils of war. Outcome still will be bad, but it makes room for counter strike if we are overwhelmed by initial invasion, I think.”

  “This matter should be studied further then,” Commander concluded. All their plans to defend and counter the invasion should be revisited, and maybe new plans need to be made.

  “I’m also curious about your alliance with the sun elves. Do they work with you without any complaints?” The Grand Priestess asked.

  “It’s not an alliance, Grand Priestess.” The sergeant answered. “We all just follow the gods' commands to the letter. And we were so close to failing them.” He sighed, and his face fell.

  “What happened?” The Grand Inquisitor urged him.

  “After the arrival of the sun elves, we started bickering over who had the right to protect the Dungeon Mistress. We all thought we were the one. Things get bad quite fast, to the point that we angered the Dungeon Mistress. She was furious back then. It was a terrifying sight. Normally, she is the most benevolent and caring person I have ever met. She struggles with her emotions whenever someone dies in her halls or even gets injured. But back then, she gave us an ultimatum. We got a few days to find a way to work together or get lost.” It was clear from the Sergeant's expression that he was frightened by these memories.

  “And then?” The commander urged him.

  “The Tavern Keeper rescued us. She is a devout follower of the goddess of fun, so back then, she did what they usually do. She started cheering us up with a hood and ale. But there was one crucial thing we forgot back then, and she didn't. She was giving food to everyone, palladins, adventurers, sun elves alike. Then we remembered the teachings of the gods. We are all equal in the eyes of the gods, despite our path or role in society. From now on, we do not divide tasks, but share them among everyone according to their skills. Dungeon Mistress was pleased by our work, and she forgave us, but we still pledged our lives for protecting her, to atone for our failing in diutius back then.”

  “Thank you, Sergeant, for your testimony. Because Dungeon Mistress forgives us, I consider this matter closed. And I mean us all. I don’t think anyone will act differently.” The Grand Priestess said.

  “We are losing this war despite our fortress stands. Our fears make us forgetting the god’s teachings.” The Grand Inquisitor sighed.

  “But the gods send us a new dungeon mistress, who is showing us the right path. We just need to follow her.” The Grand Priestess answered.

  Two weeks later, three paladins on horses reached the Citadel of Light with scrolls from On Taram. Just like in Freyharf, it takes time for Archchpriest, Chino, and a few highest-ranked priests to read all of them, let alone to comprehend recent events in the oasis.

  “Dear gods. This woman is impossible. How is she doing all of this?” The Grand Forge master was shocked.

  “She is an old soul. No wonder that the gods chose her, and she can do impossible things.” The Grand Priest of the Lady explained, pointing to one of the scrolls.

  “Old soul? Can someone explain to me what this means? I think I heard that before, but I don’t remember it.” Chino politely asked.

  “It refers to souls that, in each reincarnation, follow the gods' teaching regardless of how difficult life was. While each new life for a soul is a blank scroll, some things stay. Usually, those who have the right skills see it as a bright aura. The rest of the people usually instinctively trust them and follow.” The Head Librarian explained.

  “Just like her,” Chino whispered.

  “Just like her.” Archpriest nodded. “Now we even have written testimony.”

  “What about the proposal of creating a new pilgrimage site?” Someone asked. “Can we do it at all?”

  “I don’t know how well it will work, but any form of help for those who struggle in finding their path is worth considering.” Grand Priest of the Lady answered.

  “And, the On Taram Dungeon Mistress is right. It could make it difficult for cultists to find new followers.” The Grand Inquisitor, a dwarven female, nodded.

  “I’m a little concerned about the safety and eventual chaos if people start moving there.” The general of paladins observed.

  “That's why we need to do it like Dungeon Mistress suggested. Discreetly, no official proclamation. And if asked, we need to emphasize that this is a pilgrimage to find yourself, and there is a need to cross the desert. It should be enough to discourage those who are just curious.” The Grand Inquisitor answered, pointing at another scroll.

  “The other question is, can we pay for it?” The Grand Forge Master asked.

  “It’s hard to say how much money will be needed, but On Taram Dungeon Mistress already said she has some money for pilgrims. We also need to help only those who don’t have the funds to travel. Wealthy people, nobles, don’t receive money from the temples. They even donate sometimes, and help other pilgrims.”

  “I will add my funds too,” Chino added. “I don’t have too much use for the money I receive for my work. One more charity donation shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “And now even our own Dungeon Mistress is helping, so I think it shouldn't be a big problem.” Archpriest smiled warmly at her niece. “But like the Grand Inquisitor said. Let us be cautious. For safety reasons, and to not overestimate ourselves.”

  Meanwhile, in On Taram, there was a small celebration. Paoli and Lucius's son was born, and he saw the desert for the first time, his new home. Naomi was asked to bless the child, which she did.

  “Grow strong and smart like your parents. And be the sun your guide.”

  “Thank you, Dungeon Mistress.” Both parents bowed to the Dungeon Mistress.

  “Oh, I have a small gift for your son.” She added and gave them a baby rattle.

  “Dungeon Mistress, we can’t…” Lucius started.

  “Yes, you can. First, it's just a small toy. The second is made from nutshells and a few pieces of scrap metal. Even with my name attached to it, it couldn't be worth more than one silver. And most importantly, your son likes it, so you have no say in this matter.” Naomi pointed at a newborn who, through clumsily wiggling, tried to rattle a toy. Because the outside was made from a nutshell, and inside Naomi placed a few wooden balls, it had a pleasant, natural sound.

  “Thank you for your gift.” Both parents give up.