"What did you say her name was?" I asked the weary group of Virilian survivors dressed in rags.
I didn't receive visitors often, and despite the heaviness I felt in my heart for their situation, their presence mildly irritated me.
To my surprise, they all kept silent, but one of them, an old, frail Virilian survivor who seemed to be the leader of the group, walked up to me, his fingers shaking uncontrollably.
"She calls herself the Shadow Queen," he replied, lips trembling.
"That's interesting. What's her real name?"
"No one knows her actual name, Grand Mage, but she is a descendant of House Daevalia."
Daevalia - That was a name I had not heard in a very long time.
My mind raced as I recalled the stories of House Daevalia, the most powerful noble house that once walked upon this earth.
It was said that they wielded a strange form of magic... Magic that could control even death.
Bold as I was, I shuddered in my seat, a wave of tiny goosebumps covering both my arms.
"The noble House of Deavalia was destroyed decades ago," I pointed out.
The old man shook his head. "She wields their power, Grand Mage. I saw it with my own eyes."
"I doubt it. Dark Affinity has long been extinct."
"She used it, Grand Mage. I watched her destroy my entire city with nothing but a whisper... I may be an old man, but I know a Dark Affinity spell when I see it."
He was right about one thing. Only a descendant of House Daevalia could wield the Dark Affinity spells.
When I was a young mage, I stumbled upon a powerful artifact that granted me the power to use all affinity spells.
I mastered seven of them, but I knew almost nothing about the Dark Affinity of House Daevalia. I had no way to learn either, as all of them had been killed in the last great noble war.
Or so I thought, until now.
"Where is this... Shadow Queen?" I asked.
"She moved to Brannersport. She intends to rule the city. But the same fate awaits them."
"Save us from her tyranny," another voice cried behind him. "Save our land... Save our children, please."
Their cries for help were deeply moving, but I had long made a decision not to interfere in any power struggles in Westumberland.
"I am saddened by your situation," I announced. "But I'm afraid I have no intention of fighting anyone."
Loud gasps erupted amongst the people. The women among them shed silent tears.
"Please, Grand Mage. You must help us," the old man cried, wringing his hands.
"Surely, there must be another mage who can handle her."
"Everyone who stood against her died horribly," he bawled in a tearful voice. "All the mages left are terrified of her. No one wants to face her."
He dropped to his knees, eyes beaming with tears.
"Fifteen million people lost their lives to her. Men, women, children. Please, Grand Mage. You cannot let it happen again. You're the only one powerful enough to stop her. You have to help us, please..."
One by one, the rest of the party dropped to their knees.
"Save us, please!" they chanted in unison.
The thought of fighting still made my stomach churn, but the one thing I hated more than fighting, was hearing the cries of innocents.
I thrust my left hand up, and their cries ceased...
"Fine..." I sighed. "I'll help you. I'll face the Shadow Queen."
*****
It was a two-day ride to Brannersport from my manor, so after a good night's rest, we set off at dawn.
I could have teleported right to the city, but I chose not to, deciding instead to use the time on our journey to think up a strategy — a strategy to neutralize the Shadow Queen.
Without fighting, of course.
After a day's ride, we arrived at the central grassy plains. Filled with small shires and huts.
Daario, the city of dwarves lay just beyond the hills, but dusk had fallen upon us, and the cold winter winds forced us to camp early.
After we made a campfire, I called on the leader of the Viridale party and the young leader of the Brannersport party to finalise my strategy.
Together, the three of us took a walk on the grassy hills surrounding the plains.
"Are there any magic wielders among you?" I asked.
The young Branner replied, in a thick Southern accent. "There are three among us, Grand Mage. Two from Brannersport."
I expected less. With all my sensory powers, I could barely detect any aura from the members of the party. If there were any magic wielders, they were surely E-rank or lower.
"What about manpower?"
"We sent letters to the nobles, Grand Mage... "
"Wait..." I cut him off, shaking my head. "Could you stop calling me Grand Mage?"
"But... you are the Grand Mage."
"I know, I know, but just call me Drey, or Belford."
"Understood, Lord Belford."
"No... Not Lord. I'm not a noble."
"But, the legends say your powers..."
"Just call me Belford."
"Yes, Sir Belford."
"No... I'm not a knight either."
"But, the legends say your sword skills are..."
"Forget the legends. Just call me Belford."
"Understood, Master Belford."
I slapped my forehead. I had fought Dragons and defeated Nightwails, but I couldn't get this kid to just say my name
"So... you sent letters to the remaining nobles?"
"Yes, Master."
"And?"
"Their replies were the same. They need their armies to defend their cities."
Of course. The nobles of the great houses of Westumberland were never really known for their selflessness.
"None of that matters if the Shadow Queen decides to take them out one by one," I murmured.
My original plan was to launch a surprise attack and neutralize the Shadow Queen. It would have worked if I had the numbers for a distraction.
But in absence, I made up my mind to take on the Shadow Queen alone.
"What about the people of Brannersport?" I asked. "Surely they'd want to help us. It is their city that needs saving."
The young Branner nodded.
"The king of Brannersport agreed to rise against the Shadow Queen. On the condition that you agreed to help us."
"Alright then. We'll send a message to him when we arrive."
"No need, Master. I already sent a raven to Brannersport..."
That was the exact moment I knew something was wrong.
From the time we made camp in the plains, I could sense it – a cold, unwavering presence, hidden somewhere in the plains.
I knew how cold the winter winds could be, but that night I sensed the temperature was much, much colder.
At that moment, I finally realized what it was.
A cloaking spell!
One powerful enough to fool me.
I turned to the young Branner. "When did you send the Raven?"
"The very moment we left, Master."
That was more than enough time to reach Brannersport.
More than enough time to reach the Shadow Queen!
"Both of you, head back to the camp now!" I ordered.
They took off in a sprint, their footsteps pounding the earth. I trailed behind them, silently observing the shadows.
I assumed the Shadow Queen would come for me alone, but I underestimated how evil she was.
Seconds later, I heard the loud painful screams of dying humans.
We picked up the pace, but long before we reached the camp, I could already scent the putrid stench of blood in the air.
It was a horrible sight.
Every single tent and every blade of grass in the area had been covered in blood.
A dozen bodies were sprawled out haphazardly on the grass. I placed my hand over each one, hoping to detect a breath or a twitching muscle.
They were all dead.
I turned to the leaders of the party – both men were frozen with terror written all over their faces.
"The Shadow Queen has found us," I said, in a quiet voice. "You need to run."
Without hesitation, they took to their heels, not looking back for a second.
When their footsteps faded, I decided to focus on finding the source of the cloaking spell.
Not long after, I heard a sharp, feminine voice cackle behind me.
"Those two will never get far enough," she laughed. "No one gets away from me."
It was the coldest, most diabolical sound I had ever heard in my life.
I froze for a moment, heartbeat racing. Then, I clenched my fist and turned to face the woman whose entire reputation was born and bathed in blood.