I nodded, clutching R'lissea's hand tighter. It was true that my allies were stronger, but the real reason was much simpler. Our potential foes were just that much weaker. I could summon Borealis, Fable, and perhaps a thousand other demons with a simple wave of my staff.
It had mattered in Blacksand because there were foes who could kill me before that, but there were no ninth-level beings here. Even the archmage, the strongest elf in the kingdom, was only eighth-level. Perhaps, were they a physically oriented being, I would worry. But mages were too slow. Fyren could handle them alone, much less buy me enough time to escape.
We entered the central keep, walking into a grand hallway with a vaulted ceiling. Magically preserved murals decorated the walls, showing elvish cities, armies, and leaders. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, shaped like branches and twisting vines, illuminating the hall. More guards stood at attention, posted at doors leading off into the keep.
