A Bored Lich

The sun rose in the clouded sky and a gong's reverberant chime echoed through the northern edge of the forest, waking the camp of War Monks. Figures quickly shifted within the mist.

Wilhelm, Dag, and Sindre sauntered past pits of burnt out charcoal remains, trails of smoke fading away as War Monks either packed their tents and holy symbols, found secluded spots to meditate, or attended sermons. If Wilhelm didn't know any better, he would have imagined the camp to be a nomadic tribe rather than crusaders.

Although Wilhelm had been with the march for three weeks, finding Cardinal Ver Dilen's tent never got any easier; a task that, due to Merlin's hard work bolstering the camp's numbers, became harder by the day. Currently, his tent was one among a thousand. He sighed and rubbed his head.

It was tedious finding the tent, but the work Cardinal Ver Dilen dumped onto Wilhelm's lap every day was even moreso. He didn't mind because firstly, it was light work compared to Merlin, who passed out each day due to mana deprivation, secondly because he got along strangely well with managing supplies, reminding him of a simpler time in his life before he was a hero, and lastly because he had more time to train - something he rarely had time for in recent months.

His rank may have been unofficially stripped from him, but the constant dreams kept pushing him forward. He followed Dag to Cardinal Ver Dilen's tent with a tight grip on his sword hilt. 'I have to convince him that I'm still useful if I'm going to find Doevm before he can,' he thought. 'I'm the only one who can take him down.'

Dag pulled back the tent flap for his two friends and graciously waited for them to enter first. Wilhelm knew better of his newest friend as he thought to himself, 'He just wants to let us handle the Cardinal.'

Sindre stormed in first, followed by Wilhelm, then Dag just behind them.

Cardinal Ver Dilen looked to have just woken up, but he was never without his red robe. His looming form was hunched over his desk, quill in hand, signing document after document. The political words made Wilhelm's head spin, but the Cardinal carefully annotated and signed each line; an odd sight given his battle scarred body.

Cardinal Ver Dilen shifted his gaze to Wilhelm and the rest. The bags beneath his eyes were as deep as Wilhelm's. "Welcome. Thank you for coming on this blessed day," greeted them out of habit, yawning.

Wilhelm nodded. "Praise the goddess," he said.

"Praise the goddess!" Sindre always sounded more enthusiastic whenever she sang someone else's praises.

Dag remained quiet, earning a raised eyebrow from the Cardinal, who then set down his quill and sighed. He got straight to the point: "Wilhelm, do you understand how many favors that the church now owes - including but not limited to two governments, merchants, nobles, and mercenaries? There are even those who accuse us of practicing indulgences." He showed Wilhlem a few bolded documents before he burned them with a candle to his right.

Wilhelm resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "I understand that this is a very sensitive situation and that-"

"No, you've shown the opposite." Cardinal Ver Dilen cut him off, glancing at Dag. "The most influential and powerful nobles within the Polyglint Mines have allowed us to send in representatives. We must explain how our army showed up at their doorstep not three weeks after they suffered a catastrophic earthquake, why we wish to turn over their entire settlement for heretics, and the most crucial part of it all, that we do not intend these people any harm. We cannot afford to hurt our image!"

Sindre stepped forward. "We understand the delicate matter in which this operation must be handled, which is why Wilhelm chose us."

Cardinal Ver Dilen's face softened. "Sweetie, I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about Merlin and Dag."

"Sweetie…" Sindre frowned.

Dag raised his hand. "Well Wilhelm, we gave it a shot, but it seems I have no choice. I'll bite the bullet and stay back. I'll go give Merlin the sad news."

Cardinal Ver Dilen cocked his head to the side. "What an odd phrase."

Wilhelm caught Dag by the sleeve of his jacket before he could slink out of the tent. He could tell that Cardinal Ver Dilen was trying to provoke him, yet he calmly explained: "I need them, and so do you. If it weren't for Merlin, you and your army would still be across the continent."

The Cardinal raised a brow. Flakes of golden life essence rose from his smirking expression. "I could have run here in the same amount of time. Merlin is a convenience at best and Dag has…well he's done nothing but scowl to be honest with you."

Dag shrugged and sat at the other side of the tent and started flipping daggers between his fingers, uninterested.

Wilhelm scratched the back of his head. "I-I can't deny that, but I swear that he's valuable. On my word as a hero."

"I don't care about that sort of thing," Cardinal Ver Dilen finally decided to stop stepping around the subject.

"It means everything!" Sindre squeaked. "I know the Demon King wasn't defeated by him, and others look down on him because of it, but at least the other War Monks tried to be discreet. You're just being an asshole!" She stole a glance at Wilhelm. "No offense."

Wilhelm shook his head. "None taken."

Cardinal Ver Dilen chuckled.

"What is so funny?" Sindre insisted. "You might be lumped in with the heretics if word about this gets out."

Cardinal Ver Dilen frowned. The jagged scar across the side of his mouth paired with it menacingly. He looked at Wilhelm like a commander looked at his soldiers, like another piece of meat. "I chose this post precisely because I don't believe in you," he said. The tent grew much quieter.

Dag's blades froze in place. He wasn't an expressive person, but his eyes widened for a moment. He listened with renewed interest.

The color of Sindre's face shifted from pale to red. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

Wilhelm's gut sank. "What did you just say to me?" he asked. He didn't pride himself on his title as a hero. In addition, he knew his actions deviated from the picturesque white knight that the prophecy had made him out to be. The dreams were proof. However, it was taboo to speak against the hero, even for Cardinals.

Cardinal Ver Dilen looked Wilhelm in the eyes and smiled. "I don't give a shit who you are. In the first place, how can one man do what thousands can't? I could beat you half to death if I felt like it, and still I could never kill the Demon King? Ridiculous! I heard you encountered Doevm too, but you didn't kill him. If any of you think you're worth anything, prove it to me. Otherwise, I'll make sure you never get near the Polyglint Mines."

Cardinal Ver Dilen paused for a few seconds, letting his words sink in before adding one last thing: "Maybe your parents would have prevented your arrogance, if you hadn't let them die."

The silence to follow was deafening. It was broken by the soft hum of Wilhelm's blade as it was pressed against Cardinal Ver Dilen's throat. Copper life essence and a  white flaming aura flared around him. "Get up," he snarled. Common sense flew out of the window. "You want a hero? I'm right here. Try me."

Cardinal Ver Dilen remained seated, still smirking. "I take it that you're not going to tattle on me to the church, hero?"

"He said to get up. I don't care who you are either, but you've gone too far." Dag said. He'd somehow made it behind the Cardinal's chair before anyone could realize it, and the tip of his dagger pressed against the back of the Cardinal's skull. His hand shook slightly.

"Dag, stay out of this," Wilhelm said, not daring to look away from the Cardinal. "You'll just die with me."

"I don't have anything better to do," Dag shrugged.

Sindre was slower to react than them. Before she could regain her senses, a flash of gold lit up the tent. The flash faded, and the tent was empty.