The trees rose majestically toward the sky, their towering presence accentuated by the moss-covered boulders scattered irregularly around the forest floor. Between the stones, a narrow, well-trodden path hinted at frequent passage. At the distant end of the trail stood a solitary figure.

It was none other than Basilude, a 6th-circle dark mage. His face, marked with deep wrinkles, was framed by a mane of white hair. As Dark had described, his attire bordered on absurdity. To the unknowing eye, he might have been mistaken for a vagrant wandering aimlessly in the mountains.

But one glance at his eyes would dispel any such notions. Madness flickered in their depths—a warning that Basilude was anything but ordinary.

“Keheheh... I suppose my disciple is already dead...”
Basilude had taken on a disciple through a contract in dark magic, binding them through both their minds and spirits. This connection allowed them to sense each other even from afar, but recently, that bond had been severed.

“The fool must have slipped up... getting caught in a compulsion spell, of all things...”
The dark mage mulled over the events. Despite appearances, Nodehill’s forces included trained knights, and they had already attempted mind control on two occasions. It was no surprise they might have detected him.

Since the bond was broken, Basilude had taken to scanning the area below the mountain daily with his magical sight. Eventually, he discovered that a new army was marching toward him.

“Well, if that’s how it is... I’ll just have to find another way.”
Those approaching would meet a gruesome end, becoming sacrifices for his plans.