Patra took the scroll of invitation to attend the Klandestin Night, knowing that many great sorcerers would be gathering there, including those targeting Princess Adelia De La Trea.
"Grandmother, do you know anything about the dark sorcerers who previously sent Wraiths into Orlandia through the Arua Forest?"
Grandmother Nirfa, still busy brewing potions in front of the hearth, responded to Patra's question without turning around.
"I only saw the Wraiths hiding in the forest shadows during the daytime, but the sorcerers who created those cursed creatures never appeared. They're probably still hiding somewhere else, far from here."
"The dark sorcerers couldn't have created the Wraiths within Arua Forest. They also didn't respond when I walked Priestess Anastasia through the woods—we only encountered a few of their hunting hounds."
Wraiths aren't just conjured out of thin air with dark magic. Necromancers still need lost souls to create them, and there are no human villages or cemeteries inside the forest. It's clear that they're merely using Arua Forest as shelter from daylight for their cursed creations.
Patra then showed the wavy-bladed sword he had been carrying. When Grandmother Nirfa saw it, a knowing smile spread across her wrinkled face, as if she already recognized it.
"Patra… where did you get this enchanted weapon?"
"This sword was carried by a mysterious Wraith wearing a crown. Do you know what kind of weapon it is?"
Nirfa looked at it closely. "That's clearly the keris sword of Golgota—the third ruler of the desert Empire of Arka, also known as the Southern Sorcerer Emperor."
The Empire of Arka lay far to the south, beyond the Arua Forest and the Wiwardin Mountains. Patra suspected that was where the necromancers came from, especially since few dark mages remained in the north after their kind was decimated in the great wars of old. The keris sword was proof enough—it had somehow found its way into Orlandia.
"Patra… that keris is incredibly powerful. Long ago, when Emperor Golgota discovered that the blood of Flama sorcerers flowed through his veins—just like yours—he was overjoyed. He immediately summoned the greatest smiths of the south to forge the most powerful magical sword of all time."
Patra remained silent as Nirfa continued her story.
"The southern smiths searched far and wide for knowledge of magical weapons. They found lore about keris blades from remote southeastern islands, combined it with ancient northern rune carvings, refined the finest metals like orichalcum and meteorite, and melted it with the sacred flame of Eramus. They forged it for seven hundred days without pause—until the enchanted flame-element sword was born."
A smile tugged at Patra's lips as he realized the sword he carried was a relic—an enchanted weapon of immense power once wielded by a southern emperor.
"Was it really that powerful? Then Emperor Golgota must have been a mighty man in his time."
"Sadly, he realized his magical potential too late. He never truly mastered the sword's full power. During a rebellion led by his own brother, he fell—surrounded and slain while trying to escape with a few thousand loyal Arkarian soldiers in the Wiwardin Mountains."
Another clue was uncovered: the vengeful souls of those fallen Arkarian soldiers must have been raised as Wraiths through necromancy.
But the biggest question remained—why would the dark sorcerers go to such lengths just to obtain the power within Princess Trea?
"Grandmother Nirfa, the necromancers are clearly after the princess of Orlandia, who possesses Kartia's sorcerer blood."
"Not just Kartia's," Nirfa said. "She also bears the blood of the great sorceress Mita—because Queen Shindarty was once a priestess who wielded light magic. Though rare, the merging of two distinct magical elements can sometimes create something else entirely. Like the sorcerer Belani, who discovered ice magic through the fusion of water and wind."
The understanding of magic still remained shrouded in mystery. Even the ancient sorcerers who had devoted their lives to studying it claimed that humanity's knowledge of magic was like comparing a small lake to the vastness of the ocean.
"So it's possible Princess Trea has inherited a new magical element—a fusion of water and light—that the sorcerers desperately want?"
Nirfa gave a faint, bittersweet smile. "That's the most likely possibility."
"Then is there a way to stop them from pursuing her?"
"That's quite simple. Have her marry. As long as she remains a sacred virgin, she's vulnerable to a special ritual that could extract her power—at the cost of her life."
Patra allowed himself a slight smile. It turned out there was a much simpler way to protect Trea—without needing to hunt down every necromancer pursuing her.
Anastasia, who had been listening quietly from the corner, looked visibly relieved. Patra's journey into Arua Forest had not been in vain—the witch had provided valuable insight that could save the princess's life.
Night fell, and they rested in Nirfa's hut. Though Patra warned that more sorcerers might attack—since one of their hunting wolves had escaped—it wasn't a major concern. The swamp surrounding the hut was home to massive snake monsters that would protect them.
Morning came, shrouded in mist. Anastasia felt relieved, knowing Patra would soon take her out of the dangerous Arua Forest.
"Patra, wear this cloak of wolf's fur. It's getting colder outside," she said.
Though Patra, with the blood of a Flama fire sorcerer, didn't feel the cold much, he still accepted and wore the clothing given by Nirfa.
"Grandmother, I've secured official ownership of Krakal Hill from the Kingdom of Orlandia. The people of Rutenir might already be starting to build defenses there."
"That's wonderful. As long as you stand on land blessed by Eramus, your flame magic will grow stronger. I'll visit the hill myself soon."
After their goodbyes, the two headed north, not retracing their earlier route. Two hours after leaving the swamp, they reached the forest's edge—faster than expected. Anastasia was surprised—it had taken nearly a whole day to reach the swamp on their way in.
"Master Patra, why is the return trip so much shorter? Did you purposely take us on a long detour before?"
"Yes, I did. I was hoping to draw the attention of the sorcerers—but we didn't find any."
"Was I the bait? Because I'm a sacred maiden—and sorcerers love to kidnap girls like me for their rituals?"
Patra didn't answer. Her suspicion was correct.
They arrived at a hill with ruined temple remains on its peak. Several villagers were already there, building tents around it.
Bertha, Grumir, and a merchant rushed over to Patra.
"Patra, what did you find? Are the undead really hiding in Arua Forest?" asked Bertha.
"I haven't seen them yet. They're likely still deep in the southern forest. The necromancers come from the Empire of Arka—which gives us some time to prepare. The swamp witch also said she'll help repel any undead that try to cross the swamp."
"You say a sorcerer will help us—can she be trusted?" asked the merchant, Teanir.
"She's a sorceress who never kidnapped virgins to preserve her youth. That's why she looks old—unlike those evil sorceresses who stay beautiful and blend in among the people."
They were skeptical. Could there truly be a good witch? But now was not the time to question Patra's decisions. He was the famed hunter—and the rightful lord of this land.
"Teanir, what about the supplies I requested?"
"Some have already arrived in Rutenir. They'll be brought here once there's storage ready. The rest will be delivered soon by my trade partners."
"Good. And Grumir, why hasn't anyone started chopping wood for the fortifications?"
"I've just finished assembling a team, but many villagers are still too afraid to enter the forest—even with some hunters guarding them."
"No monsters will attack the forest edge near the swamp. Even trolls fear the giant snakes that dwell there."
"But what about those snake monsters? Couldn't they also attack humans?" Grumir asked.
"They won't leave the swamp. So tell the villagers to get moving—or everything we're doing here will be for nothing."
"You're right, there's no time to worry about uncertainties—especially when the real danger is drawing closer. Alright, I'll go gather those people and start cutting trees in the forest."
Grumir quickly hurried off to rally the group tasked with gathering wood to build the defensive fortifications. Meanwhile, several groups of people from other villages had begun arriving. They set up tents and worked hard to prepare everything needed on Krakal Hill.
Anastasia was still by Patra's side and soon spoke to him.
"Sir Patra... shouldn't we return to the capital to deliver the way to save Princess Trea?"
"And leave the villagers who are in danger here?"
"But what about my duty to protect Princess Trea?"
"My duty is to hunt witches, not to protect her. I'll send someone to deliver the message to the capital, and you will remain here—because your duty now is to assist me."
Of course, Anastasia felt deeply disappointed after hearing Patra's response, as she had thought that once this monster hunter obtained the information the kingdom needed, she would be able to return to the capital, Aldinar.
But Patra wouldn't let her leave, since there were few priests or healers in the southern villages. Moreover, light magic wielded by priests like Anastasia was highly effective against the undead. Priests could also help care for the wounded villagers.