The boys had left to see the ghoul, and I’d sent Lynx with them - much to his disappointment. At least he’d pocketed their food as compensation before leaving.

  Truth be told, I was afraid that if there were any confrontation with Drackar, I might accidentally hurt them. They were wise enough to pick up on that and left without protest, pretending they just wanted to talk.

  I raised my eyes to Drackar. As he stood there, wanting to walk away free with his orcs, I was almost tempted to let him, just nod and finish my breakfast. Almost. But I wasn’t that callous... not yet.

  I took a deep breath. I couldn’t let him leave without clarifying a few things.

  “And what about that orc village?” I asked, tilting my head to study his reaction.

  He sighed, shoulders slumping. “We’ll take everyone who wants to leave with us. If someone wants to stay, they can stay.” he raised his eyes "If you're OK with that?"

  “And where would you go?” I asked, raising a brow. I could think of only a few options, but I didn’t voice them. I didn’t want to sound like I was pressuring him.

  He squinted at me.

  “We’ll try first near Moa’s Marshes. The area isn’t inhabited. Alternatively, maybe the elves will let us settle in part of their forest. We’ll see.”

  The marshes weren’t inhabited because they weren’t really habitable, and I doubted the elves would welcome them. Still, maybe he had other options he wasn’t ready to share.

  I sighed. It would sound like an excuse, but I didn’t want to excuse myself. I didn’t feel like I had to.

  “Would it change anything if I told you I never meant to make them undead?”

  He chuckled, squinting at me.

  “You didn’t want to? Then how did it happen?”

  I shrugged.

  “My intention was to resurrect them. But… it didn’t quite go that way.”

  He raised a brow.

  “And the ghoul downstairs? Was that also an accident?”

  I huffed and coughed in indignation.

  “Of course not,” I snapped. “I made him a ghoul to extract information. How else was I supposed to learn all those details?”

  “And is there any difference between him and my orcs?”

  I glanced at him. Was he serious? Couldn’t he see it?

  “Can’t you tell? They have their own thoughts. Their will is intact. Being undead doesn’t mean they’re mindless. I wasn’t trying to make them undead. I was trying to bring Alice back. I’ve done a resurrection before, so I thought it would work.”

  I hesitated, then added quietly, “I wanted it to work. I didn’t want to let her die. But maybe… maybe I took too long to find the spark of life in her. Maybe the white magic got tainted. That’s the only explanation I have.”

  He studied me in silence.

  “And the orcs?” he finally asked.

  “Before I cast the spell on her,” I said, “I saw I could cast it on them too. When you try to resurrect someone, there’s a light you have to find and focus on. I saw it in them. I could reach them.”

  I looked him straight in the eye.

  “Should I have let them die, knowing I might bring them back?”

  He stood there, staring at me for a long moment before finally sighing.

  “Are you a member of the Undead Council?” he asked, raising a brow.

  I shook my head, and he exhaled again, slower this time.

  “Then won’t we have trouble with them?”

  I caught the we. That already meant something.

  I looked up to meet his gaze.

  “There shouldn’t be. We’re not in their territory, and we’re not using any of their relics.”

  His eyes narrowed. He studied me for a beat longer, then muttered,

  “If only it were that simple. But fine. Maybe they’ll leave us alone.”

  Then, more pointedly:

  “Can we make a deal? You promise not to resurrect any of us. Would that be something you’re willing to agree to?”

  I raised a brow. “Not even proper resurrection?”

  “What if you make another mistake?”

  I shrugged, defeated. “I can’t guarantee I won’t. But if you and your orcs don’t want to be brought back, then I won’t do it. Even if, from where I stand, letting you die would be a waste.”

  I gave him a wry, half-resigned look. “But it’s your call. I’ll respect that.”

  Some of the tension drained from his frame, his shoulders loosening. Yet not all of it left. His hand stayed tight around the pommel of his sword as he let out another sigh.

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  “What about Olomuc and the others? Would you let them go free?”

  I blinked, confused.

  “Free? What do you mean by that? I’m not planning to kill them, nor will I let anyone else do that. They’re alive. They’re free.”

  “But the ghoul. The dwarf?”

  I raised a brow, more irritated than puzzled.

  “That’s different. I created him specifically for interrogation. If he’s no longer useful, we can release him. But the others? Olomuc and the rest? They’re not ghouls. They’re not the same. Can’t you tell the difference? I can’t ‘release’ them, they’re alive.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I hope you’re not seriously considering killing them. Haven’t you talked to Olomuc?”

  “That’s part of the problem,” he muttered. “I did talk to him. You should know—Olomuc was one of the most fiercely opposed to becoming anything undead. And now? He’s fine with it. Calm. Accepting. That’s not like him. How does someone change like that unless something’s been done to them? What did you do to his soul to make him suddenly okay with this?”

  I sagged, shoulders slumping. The truth was… I didn’t know.

  Everything I understood about the undead came from games and game theory. In those, undead could be a player race. There was even an undead nation and they had that Undead Council. But that was it. That was the extent of my knowledge. So what could I really say?

  I shrugged.

  “Honestly? I don’t know. All I did was force the resurrection spell through. I tried to restore their bodies as best I could, but I never touched their souls. At least… not that I’m aware of.”

  He sighed.

  “Whatever you did to him, he sees you as something above all else now. He’d fight and die for you.”

  I scratched my head.

  “Well… he did fight and die for me. Just like Alice. Like the others. I couldn’t just let them stay dead, not if I had a way to stop it.”

  He shook his head slowly, then finally sat down on the chair across from me. With a heavy exhale, he reached into his satchel and placed a bottle on the table along with two glasses.

  “I’m going to need a drink if I’m going to process all this…”

  He poured, and took his glass.

  I still didn’t regret what I’d done.

  He swirled the contents of his glass, eyes not meeting mine.

  “How would you feel,” he said quietly, “if one of your friends had died… and some of my orcs brought them back as undead?”

  That hit harder than expected. His words hung in the air like smoke, the silence that followed thick. The room dimmed subtly as shadows curled at the edges, dark mana gathering like a storm that hadn’t yet broken.

  I met his eyes, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “Is that a threat?”

  But Drackar shook his head, his voice weary.

  “No. It’s not a threat. Just… an analogy. I’m trying to help you understand how we feel.”

  I leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly.

  I met his gaze and gave a slow shake of my head.

  “I don’t know how I’d react. But it wouldn’t be pretty. There are things…” I closed my eyes briefly, “things I don’t want to think about.”

  “I see your point,” he said, nodding. Then he lifted his glass. “Will you let me drink alone?”

  I nodded toward the bottle. “You’re giving me a bad habit.”

  He chuckled, his voice dropped as he added, “Olomuc considers you his mother.”

  I raised a brow.

  “His real mother just arrived at the village,” he continued softly, “with his young son. What do you think he’ll say to her? What will they say when they see what he’s become?”

  I sighed and reached for the other glass.

  “I guess we’ll find out.” I hesitated, then asked, “What about his wife?”

  Do the undead still care for the living? Can they even love? Can they make love?

  Drackar raised his glass. “To your children,” he said. “May they live long and satisfying lives.”

  I chuckled, and clinked my glass against his and took a sip. The drink had a neutral taste, but the scent was oddly sweet.

  “His wife died more than a year ago,” he said quietly, “in the fighting around Nok’Torsa. That’s part of why his feelings toward you were… let’s say, not gentle. He hated you. Hated everyone who raided Nok’Torsa. Even though it was the Moa who killed her.”

  I stared at my drink, then downed it in one go. He refilled both glasses, and the liquid burned its way down my throat.

  “Was she a warrior?” I asked.

  He shook his head as he poured.

  “No. She was a pacifist. They were planning to buy a farm near Nok'Torsa and settle down. But that's an old story. The disturbing part for many of his former friends is that his loyalty flipped overnight while everything else about him seems unchanged.”

  I grunted. There were no good answers to this.

  I raised my eyes to meet his.

  “As I said, they’re not ghouls, and I’m not their master. They’ll make their own decisions. True, their loyalty lies with me as their… mother.” I hesitated, ‘creator’ sounded too clinical, too cold. “But that shouldn’t be a problem. All I can say is we wait and see.”

  “So what shall we do with them?” he asked. “They seem to listen to your Alice like she’s their captain. What’s the relationship there?”

  I shrugged.

  “I honestly don’t know.” I looked up and sighed. “I don’t think there’s anything special we have to do with them. Let’s just wait. I doubt they’d disobey an order.”

  He grunted, not quite agreeing.

  “We’ll see. So… do you plan to go to war with K’hordock, or are you about to free Tina the Golden Queen for a second time?”

  I let out another sigh.

  “War? No. I was thinking more along the lines of sneaking in, finding the girls, and bringing them back, one by one.”

  “But if they know where the girls are,” he said, “they’ll just send stronger recovery teams to get them. You must know K’hordock has a dragon, not just wyverns patrolling the skies. That’s a serious threat. And those dwarves... they’re not to be underestimated. This is escalating.”

  I shook my head.

  “Once I free the girls, I’ll move them somewhere safer. Somewhere the others can’t reach. That should keep them secure, and make the threat disappear.”

  He raised a brow, then gave a half-smile and lifted his glass.

  “You always seem to have a solution... I can’t believe I’m doing this again,” he muttered, sighing. “But in light of what you told me, I think staying here is still the best option we have. That is, if you’ll still have us.”

  I had been surprised by how dramatic their reaction had been to my minor spell mishap. However, I was relieved that I hadn’t lost the orcs.

  “I’d be glad to have you around,” I said. “Will your troop follow your lead?”

  He sighed.

  “Some might choose to leave, and I won’t stop them. But most will stay with me.” He raised his glass again. “To our continued collaboration.”

  “To our collaboration,” I echoed, and downed the drink. The burn spread through my chest.

  Huh. I really am getting a bad habit.