Screwed.
There was a fairy tale about someone who tried to play smart to avoid work but ended up worse off. He couldn't remember the title, but Yoahim recalled reading it as a kid.
Why the hell was Yoahim thinking about that now? Because his situation was exactly like that damn story.
Tracking down Alzahar was like sticking his head into a tiger's den. He'd tried to shove the most dangerous job onto someone else, but instead, he'd ended up face-to-face with the bastard first.
"An intruder. Do you have no tongue? Or must I peer into your skull myself?"
Alzahar's voice was low and chilling. The echoing tone messed with his sense of direction, making it feel like the lich was watching him from every side.
Yoahim swallowed hard. What do I do? Reveal who I am?
In a way, Yoahim's existence was even more crucial than Haellagos's. Someone could replace Haellagos, but there was no substitute for Kakali's apostle.
No reason to risk exposing himself here for nothing. Yoahim clenched his fist and shouted.
"I'm a knight in service to Haellagos! My name is...!"
"Kakali's apostle, was it? Yoahim."
"...".
No, you knew all along—why the fuck ask? Yoahim felt stupid for no reason.
"Many surrendered without a fight upon hearing your name. Weak-hearted fools like them could never raise a blade against an apostle."
Yoahim narrowed his eyes, peering into the darkness, but saw nothing. Darkness was just the absence of light. Fill the void, and it should brighten—but Alzahar's shadows defied countless lanterns.
"...They made the right call. I'm Kakali's apostle and incarnation. Alzahar, don't you know challenging me is the same as challenging Kakali?"
The Withered Land had split in half from the war between Alzahar and Haellagos. Their differing ideologies turned the lords against each other, each backing what they believed right.
But the moment Yoahim—Kakali's apostle—appeared, those squabbles became pointless. As part of Kakali, his will was the god's will. Backing Haellagos made Alzahar a heretic defying divine intent.
That's why Alzahar's lords surrendered to Haellagos without much fight—they knew it.
"I prayed the rumors of you slaying Hallidery were false... But seeing you, they ring true."
Yoahim couldn't see through the dark, but Alzahar was probably nodding. Maybe I can talk him into surrendering?
It wasn't impossible. Alzahar was a Kakali devotee too; he'd hesitate to draw steel on an apostle. Hell, he hadn't attacked on sight.
This war stemmed from ideological clashes despite their shared goal: Kakali's revival. If Yoahim mediated as the apostle, uniting them wasn't out of the question.
Alzahar dies if he loses. Haellagos won't spare a rival. That's why he's fighting for survival.
But what if Yoahim guaranteed his life? Offered to end the pointless war and reunify the Withered Land?
Haellagos's side would riot.
Haellagos would accept surrender itself—why refuse victory? But sparing and employing Alzahar? Massive backlash. The lich had slaughtered countless soldiers and defiled their corpses with vile necromancy.
Who'd forgive that easily?
But he's too valuable a card to discard.
Even in this necromancer workshop of a castle, Alzahar matched an army alone. Imagine that power as an ally: hordes of undead charging foes, enemies shitting themselves in terror.
Worth overriding the lieutenants' objections.
A unified Withered Land doubled their strength. Haellagos and Alzahar together? Melos wouldn't dare invade. Reviving Kakali gets easier too.
"Alzahar, I've got a proposal for you."
"A proposal? For me?"
"Who else is here? Alzahar, surrender now, and I guarantee your life. Sure, opposition will be fierce, but I swear on my name to keep that promise."
Alzahar paused before replying. "...So, surrender?"
"Yeah. Last chance. To save your neck and fight for Kakali one final time."
"Apostle Yoahim."
The darkness parted. No substance or space occupied, yet it split like drawn curtains. The bony fingers emerging were smooth, devoid of flesh, knuckles thick and gnarled—not skeletal frailty, but like iron clubs.
"Let me see your face properly."
Huge. First impression seeing Alzahar emerge: overwhelming presence. Doing nothing, yet crushing the air.
Fucking massive...
Liches were necromancers reaching necromancy's pinnacle, retaining humanoid forms from life. But Alzahar was absurdly gigantic—a dead giant turned lich, maybe.
"Such pure eyes."
Alzahar hid his body in robes, steel crown on his head, bone necklace at his throat. Massive scythe in hand made him look more reaper than necromancer. Hood shadowed a face with green-flame eyes blazing like fire.
"Eyes of one pure and ignorant. Apostle Yoahim, you know nothing."
You're the one spouting cryptic shit—how could I know? Yoahim scowled slightly. Alzahar continued.
"Spare my life if I surrender?"
Yoahim didn't know his game but answered. "Y-yeah."
"And give me a chance to serve Kakali?"
"Right. Seize it, Alzahar. Fight together for the greater cause!"
Heh heh heh. Chilling laughter wrapped around him.
"Foolish apostle. Opportunities aren't given—they're seized! Surrender to Haellagos? Madness! The reverse, maybe—but I won't yield! I'll fight to the last! Even an apostle dies if needed!"
What? Yoahim reeled. This psycho really threatening to kill Kakali's apostle?
"Y-you serious? Kill me? I'm the apostle! Kakali's apostle! Killing me defies Kakali's will—"
"My god is Kakali alone, and apostles are ever one."
Alzahar thumped forward. "The sun is never two. Today's sets, tomorrow's rises."
Cryptic metaphor, but Yoahim shivered. Alzahar meant to fight Haellagos to the end—and slay the apostle without hesitation if needed.
"Yoahim, you're not the apostle I serve."
"...Not the one you serve? You saying there's another besides me?"
Alzahar shook his head. "Apostles are always one. Always one means another births when none remain. You're it now, Yoahim. Die, and a new one rises—I serve the worthiest."
Lich Alzahar: Necromancer rivaling Great Demon Haellagos, Kakali's faithful servant. Hard to believe he'd bow to anyone else.
"You serving Bellrallion or something?"
Ashen Dragon Bellrallion, Kakali's first follower and mighty dragon—fitting for Alzahar's oath.
"Hah hah hah... That dumb lizard? No. My master is lord of death, abyssal overlord, burning avenger."
Calling Bellrallion a dumb lizard meant his master was far deadlier. Yoahim racked his brain—no clue. New powerhouses beyond the game lurked here.
Or maybe my black mage?
Not impossible. Black mages pursued dark power; no official apostle link, but tied to Kakali.
"Kill you here, my master becomes the new apostle. Even if I die, no regrets if I take you down."
Alzahar swung his massive scythe. No contact, but the wind sliced like blades, skin threatening to tear.
Fuck! Yoahim bit his lip, stepping back. Persuasion failed—fight now.
But how? How the hell to beat this monster?
Reflexively, Yoahim glanced up at Alzahar's head.
Level matches Haellagos...
Alzahar rivaled Haellagos. Yoahim? Level 78. A 70-level gap wasn't bridged by grit, skill, or luck.
Can't win. Dead for sure.
As Yoahim stepped back again, Alzahar whipped his scythe fast. Mana blade hurtled like wind, slicing pillars effortlessly, closing in too quick to dodge.
Shit, this how I die?
Death certain, Yoahim squeezed his eyes shut—
"As expected of a rat, hiding underground. Alzahar! Think I'll let you have your way?!"
BOOM! Ceiling caved, massive figure crashing down. Impact shook the floor like an earthquake. Yoahim's eyes snapped open, seeing the mana blade dissipate harmlessly.
"Th-this is..."
The colossal being blotted his view. Four legs hit ground, quaking like tremors; bat-like black wings whipped gale-force winds.
Steel-forged armor on torso, spear and sword in hands—both aflame with sulfurous fire.
"Come at me, Alzahar! Rightful ruler of the Withered Land, master of Spire Tower, grand sovereign of Haellagoria! I, Haellagos, shall face you!"
The Great Demon shed human guise, descending in true form.