"The memory we leave of ourselves

is the only form of immortality we are granted."



Adrian had always believed in the superiority of the brain over the muscles, and ever since he learned to read, he had dedicated himself to expanding his knowledge as much as possible in the most diverse fields of human knowledge.

Several times as a child he had happened to win the respect of older and rougher boys by using only the art of dialectic, and before he was twelve his intellect and his knowledge already surpassed those of his own teachers.

Many people considered him a strange, sometimes even disturbing boy, capable of understanding everything about a person simply by looking at them, but he had never cared, so much he trusted that words could overcome any challenge.

Then one bad day, he had met an opponent with whom his weapon had proved completely ineffective, emerging from that experience, as well as with several bruises, also with a new awareness: there are individuals who only believe that might makes right, and with whom the use of violence is not only acceptable, but also inevitable.

Strengthened by this awareness, he had enrolled in the imperial military academy surprising his own father, who had always considered him a bookworm with no future.

He had considered that in the end learning the art of killing and leading men into battle was not so different from playing madara, in which incidentally he had been unbeaten since the age of nine: it was just a matter of skillfully overwhelming the opponent and cunningly move the pieces at your disposal on the battlefield to obtain the best possible result, without fear of sacrificing them if necessary.

And here too he had shined.

After a year he had the highest grades in the whole school. After two, he had defeated all seventy-four older comrades in the process of graduating in duels. Finally, at the conclusion of the third, he had led the students of the academy in the traditional simulated battle in the presence of the Emperor Ademar, managing to defeat with shocking ease none other than the second in command of the imperial army, General Lepidus.

Because of all this, His Majesty hadn't thought twice about consecrating and officially recognizing his small unit of elite warriors, – made up almost entirely of his fellow students – three hundred highly skilled and absolutely loyal young soldiers, who would also march through the halls of the underworld for him.

With his ability he could easily have applied for admission to the officers' school, for which he had obviously been recommended; instead he had preferred to follow his father to the extreme periphery of the Empire, much aware of how true experience should be sought as far away as possible from the glories and comforts of the capital.

His patience had finally paid off, and now he had a chance to prove himself to a challenge he deemed worthy of his attention. And he wouldn't let it get away.

Ron's return to the Castle with less than half the soldiers he had set out with worked in his favor, and a few words were enough for him to get his father's permission to follow the General on the next expedition.

And to make it all the more inspiring, Adrian was realizing once again that Daemon was turning out to be exactly the kind of person he'd expected.

"The news is confirmed." he said one morning, after joining Ron in the Castle's war room. "Daemon took Basterwick six days ago. Our supply lines are cut."

"Curse! Now all the material and weapons we expected from Faria will end up in the hands of those beggars!"

"Under the circumstances, our operation cannot be postponed any further. We have to attack them with what we have. And I'm willing to bet he's aware of it."

"How would you suggest we proceed?"

"Considering that the enemy has divided his forces, instinct would suggest that we do the same and defeat them separately, but that would be a mistake. The best thing to do is to gather all our forces and engage the enemy's main army here at Chateroi, where they are reportedly entrenched and preparing for battle. Daemon will of course be notified of this and will try to flank us. He's likely to do this in the middle of battle, when the bulk of our forces are already in combat. And we will let him believe he can do it, not hindering his progress in any way. Once he arrives, however, he will not find an unguarded field in front of him, but my elite unit lined up and ready to welcome him. Separated and unable to support each other, the two branches of the army will fall apart like a worn canvas."

The General had to admit that in its simplicity it was a good plan.

"I think I've got a pretty good idea of our opponent." continued Adrian. "Daemon is the kind of commander who thinks he's always two steps ahead of everyone else."

"What makes you think that?"

"The white horse, the cannons. He has wanted to show off himself and his military genius since the first battle. I've known many like him in the academy, and I know from experience that they all have the same weakness."

"That is?"

"The lack of self-control. Unforeseen situations on the battlefield make those like him nervous and prone to make mistakes. So we're going to use his sense of superiority against him. The moment he sees his tactics crumble, so will his boldness. At that point we'll just have to close the matter."

The horn coming from the courtyard announced that the entire legion was in arms and ready to assemble in the parade ground.

"Cheer up, General. This battle will be as simple as it is spectacular."



From the days when Eirinn was still an independent nation Basterwick had been the second city of the old Grand Duchy, -moreover it was the only lowland city in the west, being in the only place where the high mountains of Khoral thinned out into flat hills a few miles from the banks of the Jesi - both in importance and in size.

But it was also a terribly unhealthy city, built a stone's throw from a vast swamp and surrounded by fields that turned into marshes during the rainy season, the perfect breeding ground for all sorts of germs and diseases.

Many epidemics had followed one another over the centuries, but the one that was now affecting the inhabitants risked being one of the worst ever seen.

Making food and water from outside available to the still healthy inhabitants had significantly slowed the spread of the disease, but for those who were already ill there was nothing else to do but relieve their torments with magic and decoctions and hope for the best.

We had settled ourselves on Van Lobre's farm, a fortified cottage a stone's throw from the walls from which we could control the Via Magna and block all cargo from the east.

But as the days went by, the situation showed no sign of improving.

I knew I had taken a risk by stranding myself in a city in the midst of an epidemic, and the fact that I could do nothing but wait made me nervous and irritable.

Fortunately for me, I had always been allergic to disease, and since reincarnating, I had never caught a cold.

To pass the time, I kept myself busy working and planning my next steps.

Dividing the legionaries who had surrendered after the battle into two groups, keeping the veterans separate from the young recruits had been a good idea, and I was sure that when it was time to march towards the Castle I could count on at least a couple of hundred more soldiers.

On the other hand, it hadn't been easy to convince the Decurion Verus to lend me his services to keep order in the city, and to overcome his reticence I had been forced to overdo it a bit, telling him that I couldn't undertake to keep his companions away from the contagion by sacrificing provisions and spaces without having something in return.

In other times I wouldn't have bothered to keep such an unreliable individual quiet, but after all I still felt sorry for what had happened to Jorn, and at least I wanted to give him a chance. Somehow I knew he wouldn't be so naïve, and that when the time was right he'd choose wisely between staying true to the memory of an old fossil or committing himself to a cause worth fighting for.

Unfortunately, as often happens when you don't have control of events, even in this case the unexpected came to play a hand.

Both at that time and in my previous life, I had never believed in the existence of a predetermined divine plan that living beings simply put into practice with their actions. Of course, however, I absolutely could not imagine the significance that the events of that day would have, which would have led me to believe for the first time in my life in the existence of destiny.

"Scalia is sick!?"



A slave was certainly not granted the luxury of being able to get sick, so it was natural that over time everyone had learned to bear illnesses ignoring their suffering.

Or perhaps Scalia was simply too stubborn and proud to admit that she felt unwell.

Therefore, it happened that one morning Drufo and Passe, not seeing her, had gone to look for her in her room, finding her pale, feverish and so weak that she could not even get out of bed.

Wisely they had kept silent about the presence of signs of contagion from the others so as not to cause panic, and with the excuse of keeping her isolated as a precaution they had immediately entrusted her to the care of Sylvie at the sanatorium.

By a strange coincidence, Isabela was also hospitalized in the same room as her; she hadn't shown any signs of improvement during the week, and her condition was of more than a little concern.

They were both so weak that they struggled to stay awake, but still managed to find the strength to throw poisonous jabs at each other.

"Don't you dare die, you damn busty. I'll just be the one to take your head."

"The same goes for you, little fire-breather."

"If you can argue like this, maybe you're not so bad after all."

Though Daemon made an effort to appear disinterested, Sylvie couldn't forget the look he had a moment before entering the room, nor his obvious relief at the sight of his sister who nevertheless didn't seem to be affected too badly by the plague.

"I don't understand." said Drufo "I thought this disease only affected humans."

"I once heard that germs that cause disease can get stronger over time." Daemon said. "Perhaps now this germ can affect even the most human-like half-breeds."

"It's a big problem." said Passe. "There are plenty of demi humans like her in our army. If this is known, there will be panic."

"Maybe we should get away while we can."

"No wait. If you do that, you risk carrying the contagion elsewhere."

"The Decurion is right, Drufo. If that sounds bad to you now, you have no idea what it's like to deal with an entire nation devastated by an epidemic."

"But we can't just sit here and wait until we all get sick."

"Not to mention, our enemies will be ready to move by now."

Having overheard the conversation, an old lady who was tending her grandson in the room next to her pulled back the dividing curtain slightly to address Daemon.

"Maybe there is someone who can help us." she said with a dark look and an almost frightened voice. "The Witch of the Rocks."

Hearing that name Daemon jumped.

"The Witch of the Rocks? Does she really live here?"

"Ma'am, this is certainly not the time to come up with some fairy tales." Verus annoyingly reproached her

"What are you talking about?" Drufo asked. "Who is this Witch of the Rocks?"

"A lamia." Daemon answered. "I had heard that she lived here in West Eirinn, but I always thought it was just a rumor. They say she's an extraordinary sorceress."

"Which is obviously impossible, since no one has ever heard of a monster born with the Gift." observed the Decurion

"And you madam, could you tell me where we might find the Witch of the Rocks?"

"In the swamp."

"Then that's where we'll go."

"Daemon, are you serious!?" said Passe. "They say the place is teeming with dangerous beasts."

"Precisely. It's a great hideout."

"I'm sorry to have to say it, though, but the soldier boy here isn't entirely wrong." Drufo said. "Besides, if this witch really is that powerful, should we go bother her in her lair?"

"At this point, I would even accept the help of a demon. The Witch of the Rocks is perhaps really the only one who can get us out of this situation. If she's really in the swamp, that's where I'll go."

At which the two monsters looked at each other nodding.

"In that case, we'll go with you too. We certainly can't let you venture into that hellhole all by yourself."

"Thank you Passe. I certainly will not refuse your help."

"There's no need to thank. Scalia may be your sister, but she's also our friend."

"And the same goes for all our other comrades. Besides, the people of this city don't seem so bad. I don't want them to continue suffering from this cursed disease."

"I'll come too." Verus intervened. "I know this region much better than you."

"I thought you didn't believe in the existence of the Witch. Why waste your time coming ghost hunting?"

"You are in charge of the city now. If something happened to you, we would all pay the consequences. And since you don't seem willing to listen to me, I have no choice but to follow you. That way, at least if you die, I'll take care of reporting what happened."

"Great, a jinx. Just what we needed"

"Wait." Sylvie broke in. "I want to come with you."

Everyone turned to her, staring at her in amazement.

"Lady Valera, there is no need to expose yourselves to such danger."

"The little soldier is right, we're not going for tea."

"That's exactly why you need a wizard to help you."

"We don't know what awaits us in that quagmire." Drufo said. "And frankly, we can't be concerned about your safety either."

"There won't be any need, I know how to protect myself very well."

"My lady, wait... you cannot endanger yourself like this..."

"Don't waste your breath, Isabela. You should know me by now. And in the state you're in, you could never stop me anyway."

"I thought you wanted to tend to the sick." Daemon said.

"Now I've reached my limit. There is nothing more I can do for them. And if we don't find a cure for this disease soon, everything I've done to keep these poor people alive will have been in vain."

Seeing and considering that it was useless to insist Daemon surrendered.

"Okay, then it's decided. Get ready, we're leaving immediately."



Basterwick Swamp, also known as the Valley of the Serpents, was as close to the gates of the afterlife as one could imagine.

Ponds of stagnant water as far as the eye can see and endless expanses of mud, marsh reeds and weeping willows whose branches stretched out over the water drew ghostly figures, barely distinguishable in the thick fog that incessantly rose from the ground.

"People had been avoiding this place since before the rumors about the Witch started. When I told my father that I came here to play as a child, he spanked me."

"Can't blame him, this place is making my fur ruffle with how creepy it is."

"Old Passe shivering like a wet puppy. You're pathetic."

"Do you want to argue, you goat?"

"Stop it, you two. We're here for a reason."

"Master Daemon, something is wrong. I sense something hostile about this place. Like a presence that orders us not to go any further."

"It's a good sign. It means there's something here, or someone, that doesn't want to be found."

"Then come on, let's go track down this cursed witch and go home. This foul smell is killing my nose."

Passe started to move, but Daemon immediately stopped him.

"Wait."

The young man then pushed a large fallen log into the mud puddle in front of them, and despite its size and apparently solid ground, it disappeared under the surface in a matter of seconds.

"What the hell..." said Drufo. "What are they, quicksand?"

"The combination of standing water and muddy ground is lethal. One misstep, and we'll spend eternity in this swamp."

"Received. Watch your step."

So they set off, being very careful to prefer only lands where stones or stones could be noticed, and at the same time trying to always keep the same direction.

Logically, they reasoned, if the Witch really lived there it was likely that she was hiding in the farthest and most distant part of the swamp, so the best thing to do was to try to reach the center of it, and in the meantime look for some track or trace.

But after hours spent walking in the fog, without any reference points, they found nothing that could help them; all around them there was nothing but a ghostly silence, and there was no trace even of those wild beasts that were rumored among the locals.

Drufo tried to climb the trees for clues, but the haze was so thick that he could hardly see twenty steps far, and even from above the ground always looked the same.

"Is it just me or are we going in circles?"

"I don't think so." answered Verus "Up to now we have always tried to go straight. On the other hand, however, it is also true that the swamp shouldn't be so vast."

"Damn this distressing place!" snapped Passe. "The more I stay there, the more I regret coming!"

Sylvie was the most restless of all, even if she tried to hide it. As the only one with the Gift she could clearly feel a strange imbalance in the energy all around them, so subtle and well hidden that a normal wizard would never be able to notice it.

"Someone is trying to get us lost. Or we are trapped inside some illusion."

"I've always said, magic is a big pain in the ass!"

"Is there nothing you can do?" Daemon asked

"Now I try."

The bishop clasped both hands around her staff, and both the staff and her body were enveloped for a few seconds by a soft white light.

"This fog is not natural. It's made by magic, and it holds up some sort of barrier."

"Can you neutralize it?"

"I think so. I just have to locate the point of origin."

"You'd better work fast." he said in that Drufo, first noticing shadows moving through the trees. "Because we have company."

At that point, everyone drew their weapons, standing back to back and forming a defensive square around Sylvie.

Endless seconds of absolute silence followed, then winged imps, goblins, werewolves, mud golems and other wild beasts of all kinds began to emerge from the fog.

"Say boy, are you still so sure that the Witch doesn't exist?"

"I need some time to find the keystone to the barrier."

"Received. Did you hear? We must keep these beasts away from Lady Valera. Let's stay close and support each other. Drufo, stay close to her and cover us with your bow."

"Agree!"

A winged imp attacked first and was immediately cut in two by Daemon's sword, and a furious battle ensued.

The opposing beasts were indeed not very strong, and many of them went down with a few blows with minimal resistance. The problem was that for each of them who was killed two more emerged from the fog, so that in a few minutes the five comrades found themselves seriously outnumbered.

"That's not good, I'll soon be out of arrows! What do we do, Daemon?"

"The only thing we can do! Hold on!"

"I swear if we make it out alive I'm going to spend a whole day downing all the rum I can find! And of course you'll pay boy!"

"Duly noted, Passe! Now put that ax to work!"

Meanwhile Sylvie had never stopped focusing.

"I found it! Hold on a little longer!"

A magic circle appeared under her feet, unleashing a powerful white light all around her.

"Dispel the darkness to open the way to heaven. Celestial Gate!"

A dazzling beam shot out from the tip of her scepter, disintegrating all demonic beasts in one fell swoop and spreading in all directions with explosive force.

Daemon and the others had to close their eyes to not be blinded, and when they reopened them, the fog had completely dissolved, allowing even the sun to peep through the trees.

At first glance, the swamp still looked the same as before, with the only difference that now it was possible to see everything even from tens of meters away; here and there even the chirping of birds and the cries of wild animals could be heard.

"I can't believe my eyes." said Passe "I have to change my mind little girl. You weren't kidding when you said you could take care of yourself."

"Thank you, Lady Valera. If you hadn't come with us, it would have been the end."

"Glad I could be of assistance."