– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Setting Moon, Day 52 –

"Find them!" growled the direct operative of the Sun's elder council. "They must be killed! All but the realm traveler! Capture the realm traveler! For the Sun! For the life of the realm! Make all haste! Already, the Deadlands are stirring!"

The sun elf army acknowledged the command as one.

However, even the military unity could not hide the many pockets of distraught elves whispering to each other.

Whispers.

Whispers and rumours.

Rumours of fungus-infested elves in a chamber that was supposed to be their ancient ancestors' burial ground. Fungus-infested and ancient, but still alive.

Whispers about a tree to which they clung while their roars shook the compound.

Rumours that spread, even while they marched.

Whispers that wormed themselves into elven heads.

If some cursed cabal could order their elder council around, then who was really in charge of the Sun? Not the leaders they were familiar with, evidently.

The Sun had always worshipped nature and life, but in the abstract. None of their teachings allowed for something as specific and literal as the rumored tree at the center of their cursed ancestors.

Whispers and rumours pierced through certainty and eroded conviction until they exposed the doubt and uncertainty lurking in the minds of many.

***

"Are you certain?" Mia's eyes were calm but pensive.

"Yes," replied Terry firmly. "Are you not? You were close enough."

"I wasn't asking about the cultists themselves," explained Mia. "That tree reeked of otherrealm magic. I was asking if you're sure it's the same kind of channeling anchor you sensed in the dungeon that sealed off this realm?"

"Yes," replied Terry just as firmly as before. For the first time since he had arrived in this cursed realm, there was no doubt in his mind.

At least not about this.

"What does this mean?" asked Vess worriedly.

"It means we'll be in deep shit soon," grumbled Rafael. He glanced at Terry. "Right?"

"That's one way to put it," said Terry.

"If the otherrealm creature they've opened themselves to can control the funghouls, then we'll have to face the entire Deadlands to get to them for good." Tiana pointed out with a heavy air.

"Get to them?" Vess shook her head. "We're already dealing with a mana curse and now you want to—?"

"Do we have a choice?" interjected Jorg. He turned to Vess with remarkable accuracy for a person that couldn't see with his eyes anymore. "I couldn't catch their expressions very well but from what I could hear, they're very much aiming for our lives."

"If they're wielding the curse as a weapon, then the Deadlands will come for us, one way or the other," added Tiana.

"Can you get the others?" Terry asked Mia.

"Others?" Mia raised an eyebrow. She had brought everyone from Terry's group.

"The entire expedition," said Terry.

"Are you sure?" asked Mia. "Most of them aren't exactly feeling favorably towards you."

"Like Tiana said, we'll have to face the Deadlands one way or the other," said Terry.

"Even with the entire expedition, we would be severely lacking in numbers. Mia pointed out.

"Especially since most of the expedition are researchers, not warriors," added Tiana.

"All true, but finally forming a united front would be a good step in the right direction," retorted Terry. "If we continue working against each other, this won't work."

"I don't think you of all people have the right to say that," protested Vess with desperate eyes. "The researchers are trying to cure the curse. First, you stand in their way. Now you want to drag them away from their task into a war that doesn't even make sense. A war that will achieve nothing but wasting time with respect to the curse."

"Vess…" Tiana placed a calming hand on Vess's shoulder and sent an apologetic look at Terry.

Wasting time, huh…?

Terry ignored Vess's outburst. He knew she wasn't thinking straight, but her words still got him thinking.

"What if it wouldn't be this waste of time?" Terry wondered out loud. His mind was spinning with everything he knew.

The Wrath was the creation of the Ungodly Angel Thuzar.

A Faithless Saint. A hero of their realm.

A kind woman by all accounts.

A cursemage talented enough to customize her curse.

What if it was really just one and the same problem?

"Gather everyone, I want to speak to them," said Terry in a tone that made Mia dismiss all further questions she might have harbored.

When Terry made his snap judgement, his mind was still circling around the two options he had faced the entire time in this cursed realm.

To sacrifice the shroomans or to sacrifice the cure?

When Terry's conscious mind finally followed his instinctive feeling, a theory had taken root.

Another interpretation.

Another way.

A third option.

***

Terry could feel Vess inject her daily dose of the freshly adjusted mana-inhibitors. Slowing down the mana's reactivity was still the only treatment for the Wrath. Initially, the researchers had held hopes to eventually cross a threshold where the naturalized mana would allow the body to overcome the curse. Hopes that they would discover a way to slow down just the curse while leaving the remaining traits of mana intact.

False hopes.

A cursemage as skilled as Thuzar would never allow such a flaw to exist.

Terry shook his head. He was intentionally keeping his gaze away from Vess, but no matter how much he averted his eyes, his mana touch still picked up everything.

Terry focused on his breathing. This wasn't the time to waver in his resolve.

If only the Ungodly Angel had foreseen a false god taking control of the cursed funghouls.

"Are you okay?" asked Jorg.

Terry turned to his brother and frowned. "You're the one with a bloody bandage over your eyes. I should ask you this question. When did you change the bandage?"

"Not long ago, but what can I do?" Jorg shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It's just a scratch. A few months of healing and I'll be good as new. Who knows? Perhaps Uncle Samuel knows what the trap did to interfere with healing attempts? It might be done faster then."

Jorg's words only caused Terry's frown to deepen. They had not discovered a way to return to their own realm yet. The teleportation traps by the Sun and Moon had activated before they could get a grasp on their arrival location. They didn't exactly have time to search the entire realm, either.

The reason for Terry's deepened frown, however, was his suspicion that even if they found the exact location again, the realm-crossing gate was probably sealed once more.

If the dungeon was incensed by the False God behind the Sun's cultists, then his plan to reveal the Sun's secrets might have also inadvertently cut off their path of retreat.

Focus.

Terry took a deep breath. When the mana distortion announced the first dimensional gate, he warned the others. "They're coming."

They already knew that Mia would be first. Terry had thought it best to first join with the parts of the expedition that were less hostile to him.

Although not sure if it still holds true that the Sun camp is less hostile after our scouting trip. I'm sure the Sun has their own version of events.

Terry was pleasantly surprised to see Khaled walk through the gate first.

Good, Mia found them as well.

Terry trusted Khaled. Aside from what he had shown in the Guardian classes, Khaled had also done right by him in this cursed realm. Done so despite the pushback from the rest of the expedition.

Terry didn't know many expedition members by name, but he could recognize the Guardian instructor that had accompanied his introduction to dungeon work class. Verecund's face was solemn, but Terry was glad to receive a silent nod as a greeting. It showed there were still some people willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Not everyone, though.

"What the Wastes did you do?!"

"What were you thinking?"

"Outrageous!"

"The destruction!"

"The Deadlands are stirring because of you!"

"You broke the Sun's protection!"

Terry clenched his fists. He could feel his companions sticking closer to him. Jorg. Tiana. Rafael. Patricia. Deekin. Even Vess was getting closer, albeit with more distance than the others.

Bugsby was hiding behind Deekin's leg.

Only Shroomling seemed unconcerned about the ruckus. She was busy loosening the earth with her stubby arms. Why she was doing that, Terry didn't know, but he thought he could see her wiggling a bit more agitatedly than usual.

Perhaps she's getting overwhelmed by the huge number of new scents?

"Don't you want to say anything?" Mia walked closer to Terry with an expectant expression.

Terry flared his mana with a powerful burst and allowed the mana to rush out in a harmless pulse of dense mana untouched by spell slicers. The rapid movement of mana stood in stark contrast to Terry's own immovable appearance.

It was enough to temporarily stun the gathered members and buy him the silence to speak.

"I can understand if Khaled's group doesn't know, because they weren't present, but don't tell me you haven't realized by now what was lurking in the Sun?" Terry didn't give them the time to answer his rhetorical question. "The Sun's hidden leadership are a bunch of cultists. Cultists that are in full control of the funghouls. If your own mana sense wasn't sensitive enough to pick up on that, even after we poked them into action, then you'll have to take our word for it."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Terry gestured to Mia, who was nodding. He didn't expect them to trust his word alone. Not after all the time they had spent in conflict within this realm. Mia, by contrast, had been a part of the Sun's camp the entire time.

"The Deadlands aren't moving because we've damaged some kind of mystical protection," continued Terry. "The Deadlands are moving because we've given the cultists a reason to make them move. I'm not just speaking about the otherrealm worship we've revealed."

Terry knew that, even though the expedition mostly consisted of members from Arcana, there might still be some that sympathized with the faithful. He could not leave it at that.

"The specific creature they worship is the exact creature I've sensed coordinating the funghouls in the folded space," stressed Terry. "In the dungeon that revealed this realm's sealed gate to me. The dungeon that is the reason that we're here to begin with."

Terry held out a hand towards Bugsby. "This is Bugsby. A folk with the ability to use the void to pierce the veil and travel across realms."

[Hello,] signed Bugsby, which stunned many expedition members.

They had heard about the conflict between Terry and the moon elves. The disagreement over the cure for the curse. They had heard about strange creatures whom Terry sided with. Heard that he called them folks.

Now they were face to face with a strange folk using finger runes to greet them. Greet them with a sincerely polite intent. Their gazes involuntarily wandered from the beetlefolk to the little mushroom person nearby.

"The Sun's sacred hunt is for this realm traveler." Terry lowered his hand. "What was the Sun's first priority after our expedition arrived?"

Emphasize that it was our expedition. Us. We.

We're in this together.

"Was it to find a cure for the curse?" asked Terry. "Or was it to find a way out of this realm?" He shook his head and exhaled. "I'm sure many of them want nothing more than to cure the curse, but what about the Sun's leadership? What was their focus? Beyond words, what were their actions? What were they negotiating for?"

Terry already knew the answer. Otherwise, he wouldn't ask.

"The Sun's priority wasn't to cure the curse," stressed Terry. "The curse is a weapon for them. The weapon whose deliberate use has allowed them to rise over the Moon over generations. True, the weapon hurts them, too, but with control over the funghouls, it hurts their rivals more. For most of this realm's history, the Sun and Moon have been equals, but control of the funghouls has allowed the Sun to rise above their rival faction. The Sun has become the most powerful faction. Not despite the curse, but because of it."

Terry could feel Patricia nodding and was glad to feel she wasn't the only one.

"The Sun's priority was to escape this realm," continued Terry. "Both to wield their weapon in other realms and to escape its wrath themselves.

"I've seen the cultists," stressed Terry. "I've felt them. Felt the curse in their ancient veins. They're the ones attracting the curse the most. A curse held up by the realm itself, and why would that be?"

Appeal to the pristine reputation of the Ungodly Angel.

"Our Faithless Saint Thuzar has created this curse to protect this realm." Terry gestured at Shroomling. "To protect those caring for the realm. A curse to protect, but also to seek out those threatening the realm. The curse unleashes a wrath reflecting the injuries inflicted on the realm. Vengeance against the invaders and those doing their bidding, unwittingly or not."

Terry allowed Oz to reveal itself in front of him. "I've verified for myself that the shroomans were benefactors of the Veilbinder. It was their magic powder that allowed the Veilbinder to detect the invasions from the shadows in our realm." He gestured at Oz. "I can now sense through the shadows through my tamed slime, just like the mages of our past."

Terry gestured at Shroomling. "Their folk is a benefactor of our realm. An ally of the Veilbinder. A friend of the Ungodly Angel. I choose to trust them."

By now, everyone was listening attentively to Terry's version of the situation.

"I trust my own senses," stressed Terry. "I know the otherrealm creature threatening this realm has found a way to control the funghouls.

"I believe the curse's original purpose was precisely to eradicate the influence of the False God that is currently coordinating the funghouls. I don't believe a person like Thuzar would design a curse to run rampant with no terminating condition."

Terry allowed the words to hang in the air to allow them time to glimpse the inevitable conclusion of everything. "Curing the curse does not require a magic concoction. Its purpose is the cure. To cure the curse, we have to cleanse this realm of the False God threatening it."

***

Another mana distortion announced the arrival of a dimensional gate and Terry clenched his fists.

Until now, his arguments mostly had to address the undeniable problem of numbers. The inconvenient truth that the expedition, for all its experts, was not in a good position to upend a major faction of this realm, even if they were united.

Even if.

United.

This time, Terry knew this was going to be the word around everything would revolve. The key piece on which every further action would hinge.

"Giants?!" William's incensed shout was the first to arrive through the gate. "How low could you fall?!"

William's shout wasn't the last outburst of outrage.

"Are you insane?!" growled another elven expedition member. He glared at Deekin and demanded an answer from Terry. "You're working with elf-eaters?"

"Did you really attack the Sun?!"

"Capture him! What are we waiting for?"

Before Terry could even think of flaring his mana, others were already stepping in front of him, and for once, it wasn't just his companions.

Khaled, Verecund, and even Mia blocked the path of the angry expedition members from the moon camp. They weren't alone, either.

"Have you lost your mind, cousin?!" Yorgos stared incredulously at Mia. "How could you tolerate this beast's presence?" He gestured at Deekin.

"You dare?!" growled Rafael. He squared his shoulders and stepped forward. "Insult my disciple one more time, and I'll erase your intolerable presence from this cursed realm!"

"'Disciple'? You—"

"Cousin, how about you shut your trap for once and listen," snapped Mia. "I did not invite you here to suffer these childish antics."

"You better have a good reason for this," growled William. Normally, he would never consider to offend a dimensional mage, but he was seriously questioning his stance right now. If it wasn't for her relationship with Weran, William would consider a much more confrontational approach.

"What reason could there possibly be?!" A furious shriek reverberated over the heads of the expedition members. A snarling Mercedes pushed her way through the other researchers.

Mercedes glowered at Terry. "You! The gall! All this death! All this needless suffering! You should be ashamed of yourself! We came here to cure the curse and you sabotage it!

"And as if that wasn't bad enough! Now you've even started a war with the Sun?! You've broken their protection! Now the funghouls of the Deadlands are killing what the curse hasn't! What for? Was the genocidal curse not working fast enough for you?! Won't you be satisfied until all innocent life has ceased living?!"

Tears were streaming down the researcher's face.

"If I'd known what a callous monster you turned out to become, I would have smacked you out of my lab the first time when Khaled brought you!" Mercedes moved her gaze from Terry to Khaled. "And you! I thought I knew you! How could you side with a monster like this?!"

'Monster'?

Terry took a deep breath to steady himself. He couldn't afford to speak with a shaky voice.

"I think you know me pretty well, Mercedes," said Khaled firmly. "You ask how I could side with him? Perhaps you should listen. I remember you telling me that a good researcher reads and listens more than they voice their own opinions."

"You…!" Mercedes's face became flushed with anger. "Fine! You want me to sit here and waste my time while people are DYING?! Is that what a good researcher would do? I guess I'm not a good researcher then. Excuse me for caring! Caring to prevent the death of innocents! Innocents I might be able to save! My bad!"

It was clear to see the anger and indignation in the researcher's face, but she finally shut up.

However, her words had riled up Terry. He didn't worry about his voice being firm any longer, because his own righteous anger was sure to firm his tone.

Focus.

Terry took a deep breath. There was a time for fury, but first he had to get the gist out of the way. First, he had to lead them onto the path to follow his reasoning.

Just like with the expedition members from the camp near the Sun, Terry made his case. While the audience this time was a lot more difficult, the presence of those who already knew his side was a tremendous help.

The reactions by the Moon's camp was tempered by the presence of those whose views on the situation had already shifted.

After laying the facts out into the open, Terry finally allowed his real feelings to surface.

"You speak of preventing the death of innocents?!" Terry glared at Mercedes. "How strange that you skipped over the part where you intended to kill innocents as part of your work."

"What innocents?!" barked Mercedes. "A mushroom!" Contrary to her expectations, many expedition members were sending her looks that betrayed various negative reactions to her words.

People were cringing and getting offended at her callous attitude.

"What?!" demanded Mercedes. "That mushroom beast is no person!"

Mercedes couldn't understand the perspective of those who had already seen the shrooman interact with Bugsby, even answering questions via her interpreter's finger runes.

"Isn't she?" interjected Patricia. "Or is it just that you cannot accept her to be? Because then you would have to admit you were seeking the death of an innocent folk?! Unwilling to admit the real costs of your choices?!"

"You told me that it's wrong to start with a foregone conclusion," interjected Khaled. "A good researcher is supposed to form a conclusion based on evidence. They should not start with a conclusion and then only look for evidence to support it."

"How does that…?" Mercedes clenched her teeth and shook her head angrily. "Fine. Let's waste even more time, I guess. Fine! The mushroom is a folk. Whatever! One life to save many! It's simple numbers! I'm not the one deciding to weigh one life more than the other! To weigh one life more than many!"

"'Numbers'?!" snapped Terry. "You seem to be missing a lot of those. What chance do you have to develop your cure? How confident are you? A hundred percent? No? How does that factor into your little numbers game?! Screw your numbers! This isn't right, no matter how much you fudge the numbers to fit your case!"

"Talk about foregone conclusions, huh?!" sneered Mercedes.

"Killing an innocent person to use their life as a means to an end is wrong, no matter how you frame it," growled Terry.

"But letting an innocent person die isn't?!" retorted Mercedes. "Dead is dead. No difference."

"Really?" Tiana stared at Mercedes. "You see no difference between intentionally killing someone and failing to save them?" Her incredulity was mirrored by many expedition members.

"What 'failing to save them'?" snapped Mercedes. "We aren't even trying! We could save them!" She pointed at Terry. "He chooses not to!"

"I choose not to kill innocents, damn right!" roared Terry. "And while you were busy driving a wedge between us with your blind rush for a solution, I kept looking for a better way. A way that doesn't involve killing innocent folks!"

"And the way you've come up with is to wage war on the locals?!" spat Mercedes. "How about that for killing innocent folks?!"

"I intend to wage war on the cultist agents of the False God plaguing this realm!" corrected Terry firmly. He suppressed the reflexive revulsion at slipping into the word games of the Preacher, but better to reframe the argument than to further allow a wedge being driven into the expedition.

"The only thing plaguing this realm is the curse!" retorted Mercedes. "I don't see how a faithless crusade is going to help with that!"

"Then you didn't listen!" barked Tiana. She intentionally chose her words to mirror the phrasing of Khaled's earlier remark. "The cultists bear the channeling anchor of the creature controlling the funghouls."

Terry noted how many among the combat-oriented expedition members from the Moon's camp were shifting their stance at Tiana's interjection.

Guess Tiana left quite the impression when she was fighting at the frontline with the Deadlands.

Good.

"According to whom?!" scoffed Mercedes. "Him?" She gestured at Terry. "Yeah, I'm not going to take his word for that."

"You should," said Khaled. "Terry is the best sensor I've ever met. If he says it's the same channeling anchor, then it is." His words were impactful, coming from one of the best trackers among the Guardians of Arcana City.

"That's hardly the point!" hissed Mercedes.

"If you don't consider Terry trustworthy, then what are you even here for?!" demanded Patricia. "We all followed his word to get here!"

"Good point," said Verecund. "Do we need to remind you it was Terry who discovered the curse and brought us here."

"Not just discovered, my battle brother led us to defeat it!" shouted Rafael. "And he was chosen by the dungeon for it!"

"I don't care what a brainless brute believes," hissed Mercedes. Her eyes filled with obvious contempt for the martialist. "Nor do I care about what a dungeon does."

"Another mistake on your part," said Verecund angrily. "Dungeons are a realm's first line of defense." The dungeon researchers among the expedition members nodded at his words before shaking their heads at Mercedes's obvious dismissal of research outside her own field.

"This…" Mercedes noticed the strangely shifting atmosphere. Even William had begun looking at her differently. "What does this matter? We're not talking about a dungeon. We're talking about the mana curse that is ravaging this realm. Hundreds are dying every day. Many more are suffering! Why can't you see that?! All this nonsense! It doesn't matter, because it can't be true!"

"Can't it?" Patricia hissed coldly. "Or you just can't accept it? Just like you can't accept that you were asking for innocent folks to be turned into ingredients? Because then you would have to accept that your cruelty wasn't necessary. That you were the one acting like a monster."

Patricia's words carried more weight than she realized. Not because of who she was, like with Tiana's reputation among the combat-oriented expedition members. No, Patricia's words made an impact because she talked like she knew what it was like to face your own dark side.

"You allowed the misery in your sights to blind you," interjected Jorg. "Deep down, you may be a good person with good intentions, but you stopped looking for a good solution. You failed to see how awful your solution really was."

Jorg was seemingly unaware of how his particular phrasing brought the expedition members to focus on him. His eyes were covered by a bloody bandage. For all to see, he was blind. A blind dwarf lecturing the researcher on failing to see.

"Because it simply couldn't be," added Patricia. "It had to be good. It had to be necessary."

"Because otherwise, you would have to look for something better and that would take time," continued Terry. "Time that you would continue to experience the suffering all around you. A fate you simply couldn't bear."

A part of Terry felt bad at using his words to turn the virtue that was Mercedes's compassion for others into a self-serving vice that aimed to alleviate her own feelings when being exposed to the suffering of others.

But Terry didn't think he was saying anything wrong. He had noticed in himself how easy it was for virtue to turn into weakness and further into a vice. He had felt the temptation to stop thinking and to just give in. He understood how awful it was to wait and wade through uncertainty while every second, his conscience was growing heavier with every life he failed to save.

I know it's tough. By mana, I know.

"So what?!" Mercedes crossed her arms and grimaced with puffy eyes. "War is now better? Even if you believe all this nonsense. There's no way to win a war against the most powerful faction in this realm!"

Terry wondered if Patricia had a point. Mercedes seemed very eager to dismiss anything that would cast doubt on her own chosen actions. It was obvious she considered anything like that as impossible nonsense.

Can't accept it if it goes against your desired conclusion?

"Not for us alone, no," admitted Terry. "But that's not what I have in mind."

***

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