The next morning, Stephan went to meet King Orak in private. The gnome ruler looked exactly as he remembered... sharp-eyed, impeccably dressed, and wearing that same sly, merchant's grin that made it impossible to tell whether he was being friendly or setting up a deal. Every smile from Orak felt like a trap waiting to be sprung.

"I've received word from my son, Olath," the king began, his voice carrying the smooth confidence of a practiced negotiator. "He tells me your expedition into the Soul Desert was… eventful. That you ran into a few complications."

Stephan's lips curved faintly. "That's correct. But nothing we couldn't handle."

Orak leaned back in his ornate chair, steepling his fingers. "I'm glad to hear it. My son tends to exaggerate, but even his stories carried a certain… weight. Tell me, did you find what you were searching for out there?"

"Yes," Stephan said simply.

King Orak leaned back in his chair, the gears of the brass armrest whirring softly. His shrewd little eyes, studying Stephan as if weighing every word for its hidden worth.

"Good," he said finally. "Olath also mentioned… you did not return alone."

Stephan met his gaze. "You mean Death."

"Yes, the horned woman." Orak's smile twitched wider, too thin to be kind. "My scouts saw her in the village. The people whisper that you brought a demon into our midst."

"She's no demon," Stephan said evenly. "She's a soul servant. My creation. She's under control."

"Under control," Orak repeated slowly, rolling the phrase in his mouth like old wine. "That's a phrase I've heard from men before their monsters ate them alive."

Stephan didn't flinch. "You've also heard it from men who survived what no one else could."

For a moment, the two locked eyes, the calm of an immortal gambler against the cold of a man who'd already gambled everything. Then the king chuckled softly and leaned forward on the desk.

"Relax, human. I don't intend to interfere with your… arrangement. I owe you for bringing my son back. But I must admit, your timing is inconvenient."

"How so?" Stephan asked.

The gnome king folded his hands. "The Elves. You've stirred the hornet's nest. My scouts report two of their generals were seen returning to Ezron humiliated. They're looking for you, and if the Elves start marching south, Magodilin will be caught in the storm."

Stephan's jaw tightened. "Then we'll meet them before they reach here."

"Ha!" Orak barked, slapping the armrest. "You really are as reckless as Olath described. Still…" His grin faded into something more measured. "There's sense in that madness. Better to cut off their vanguard than wait for an army at your door."

He stood, adjusting his crimson robes. "You want my advice, Death-Maker? Follow the river south, past the ruins of Kareth'Zul. That's where the Elves send their scouts. Find their command post and burn it down."

Stephan nodded. "We'll handle it."

A heavy silence stretched between them, the air thick with unspoken suspicion. Stephan's eyes met the king's glinting amber ones, neither man willing to look away.

Finally, Stephan broke the quiet. "If you don't mind, Your Grace… I have one more question."

King Orak's expression didn't change, but his tone grew sharper. "I'm listening."

Stephan folded his arms. "Back in the Soul Desert, your son was captured, not by chance, but by design. The elves knew he'd be there. That doesn't sound like coincidence to me. Do you have any information on that matter?"

The question struck like a hammer.

For the first time, the king's polished composure cracked. He shifted slightly on his throne, adjusting the golden rings on his fingers as if the metal itself had turned hot. His eyes darted, just once , before settling back on Stephan.

"I… may have heard whispers," Orak said carefully, his voice a fraction lower than before. "But tell me, Stephan… why would the elves concern themselves with a single gnome boy?"

Stephan leaned forward, his gaze unflinching. "That's exactly what I want to know."

"I don't have complete information… only suspicions," the king said, his tone cautious, eyes darting briefly toward the guards by the door.

Stephan frowned. "What kind of suspicions?"

King Orak leaned back in his throne, fingers drumming on the gilded armrest. "I believe there's a spy in the kingdom."

A spy? Stephan's expression hardened. What the hell is he talking about?

If there really was a spy, then how had they passed information to the elves so quickly? The tunnels beneath Magodilin were crawling with Sanguivores, no one could have gotten through them alive, not without elite training or unnatural help. That left only one other explanation.

Magic.

If the spy had used the same kind of teleportation tablet he and Olath had used to leave the Soul Desert, then it was possible they'd sent the message instantly.

Stephan studied the king's face carefully. Orak's expression was a perfect mask .... polite, measured, practiced. Too practiced.

There was something he wasn't saying. Something he knew.

Still, Stephan wasn't going to push itz not yet. He needed to keep his access to Magodilin's resources intact. So he offered a calm, convincing nod.

"I see," Stephan said evenly. "A spy makes sense. I'll keep my eyes open."

Inside, though, his thoughts were sharper than his tone.

He's hiding something. And I'm going to find out what.

Stephan stood from his chair after a brief silence, adjusting the strap of his sword. "One more thing, Your Grace," he said. "My team and I will be leaving tomorrow. We've stayed long enough, and there's still much to do outside Magodilin."

King Orak's brows lifted slightly. "You're heading toward the elven border?"

Stephan nodded. "That's right. You mentioned an abandoned elven base near the south ridge. We'll start there, see if we can uncover anything about their movements, maybe even find other players."

The king's expression softened into that same sly, knowing smile Stephan had come to expect from him. "You've done this kingdom a great service already, Sir Stephan. Escorting my son safely home, purging the Sanguivores from the tunnels those deeds won't be forgotten."

Stephan inclined his head. "I only did what was necessary."

King Orak stood from his throne and extended a small, jeweled hand. "Still, you have my gratitude. And my respect. I hope our paths cross again...preferably not under such grim circumstances."

Stephan shook his hand briefly, though his mind was already on the journey ahead. "If fate allows it, Your Grace. Until then, take care of your people. We'll handle what's beyond your walls."

As he turned to leave, the king's voice followed him, quiet but deliberate. "The world beyond Magodilin is shifting, Stephan. Be careful who you trust.... even among your own kind."

Stephan paused at the doorway, glancing back only once. "Trust is a luxury none of us can afford anymore."

Then he left the throne room, the sound of his boots echoing through the stone corridor.

Tomorrow, they would set out for the elven base, and begin their hunt for the other players who still walked this fractured world.

Stephan returned to their hut as the afternoon sun dipped low over Magodiin. Inside, Anna Mary was grinding herbs by the fire while Yennefer polished her blade with a calm that always felt deceptive, like a storm waiting behind glass. Death stood by the entrance, silent, eyes fixed on the flickering flames.

"We're leaving tomorrow," Stephan announced, shutting the door behind him.

Anna Mary looked up, startled. "So soon? You just met with the king. I thought you'd want to rest at least another day."

"I've rested enough," Stephan replied, voice firm. "There's something off about this place. About him."

Yennefer paused mid-motion, eyes narrowing. "The king?"

"Yes." Stephan sat down, running a hand through his hair. "He told me the elves knew Olath would be in the soul desert because there's a spy here in Magodilin. But he wouldn't say more.... and I don't buy it. He's hiding something."

Death tilted her head slightly, her tone cool and even. "You suspect him?"

"I suspect everyone close to him," Stephan said. "And that includes his advisors, his guards, maybe even some of the townsfolk. So listen carefully.... from now on, don't trust any gnome who works near the castle. Especially the king's circle. Smile if you must, but keep your hands on your weapons."

Anna Mary frowned. "You really think he's working with the elves?"

"I think he's talking to them," Stephan said grimly. "Maybe not directly, but through someone. The way they moved, the timing.... it's too perfect to be coincidence. He knew more than he let on."

Yennefer's voice was sharp with suspicion. "Then why didn't you call him out?"

"Because we need to get out of here alive first," Stephan replied. "No point stirring trouble in his nest when we're about to leave. Once we're outside, we can decide how to deal with him.... or whoever he's working with."

Anna Mary sighed and nodded, finally understanding. "So where are we headed?"

"The elven base the king mentioned. It's a few days east," Stephan said. "We'll move at dawn. Pack light. No torches ..... Death and I can see well enough in the dark."

Death's violet eyes gleamed faintly in the dim light. "Understood."

Stephan rose, looking between them one last time. "Stay sharp tonight. Don't open the door for anyone, no matter who it is."

He turned to leave, but before stepping outside, he added quietly, "I've got a feeling the king's already watching us."

Then he slipped into the fading daylight, leaving the hut in tense silence.

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