The King, Archmage Vis, the ex-advisor Vota, the apprentice Spes, and an unknown face were all gathered around a table in the Royal Court. On the table was a large map showing three continents arranged in a triangular formation. They were focused on only two of them - the northern one and the eastern one - with several flags set on precise locations, starting from the Royal Capital and extending to the center of the other continent.
The small group around the table discussed the safest route the two young men would take to retrieve the artifact. It was a heated debate, especially between the Archmage and the unknown face, who stared angrily at each other.
Archmage Vis was vigorously exchanging words with a figure who would strike fear in anyone who laid eyes on him: a middle-aged man fully suited in cold steel armor, his helmet laying on the table, revealing a bald head full of old battle scars.
From the dark skull engraved on his chestplate, it was clear the man was another Inquisitor. But he didn't resemble those Spes had previously encountered. Not only was he taller, but both his armor and helmet were different - like an upgraded version of what Spes had seen.
This bald man was none other than the current General of the Inquisition, personally handpicked and appointed by the King himself.
"Archmage Vis... The route you're proposing is WAY too dangerous for these kids!" the man boldly said, slightly glancing at the culprits of his argument with the old man: a scrawny-looking young man and a fat one who stared lazily at everyone.
"The Council of Mages has dispatched too many mages to the borders, and the reports I'm receiving aren't promising! The longer they take, the more casualties there will be - not only for my mages but also for the royal army and YOUR men!" The Archmage shouted as he threw stacks of papers on the table - casualty reports from the borders.
The General didn't bother examining them, having already received identical reports. He knew what was being lost at the borders each passing day.
Closing his eyes, the General massaged his temples. This was no simple matter. The Archmage had a point - they were fighting against time as demonic attacks grew increasingly worse daily.
"We'll take the fast route then... But some of my men will escort them on their quest," the General spoke, opening his eyes.
"You can afford to spare some?" the King asked worriedly, raising an eyebrow.
"I can make an exception," the General wryly smiled, raising his arm to signal behind him.
"General!" Two fully armored knights bearing the Inquisition crest approached and saluted.
"Your squad will escort these two young men to the Capital of the Alliance. You can introduce yourselves later. We'll discuss your route details now."
The Archmage nodded gratefully at the General, who had not only accepted his proposition but also provided a squad to escort Spes and Vota.
Turning to the two young men and new Inquisition knights, the Archmage pointed at the map: "Listen carefully. The Royal Griffins will fly you to the Port of Orsus."
"Normally you would sail to the Alliance's Port here and follow this clear road to the Capital, but..." The Archmage wore a wry smile as he indicated the safe but lengthy path they would have taken.
"Since we're out of time, your ship will instead land here." He moved his finger to point at a forest on the Alliance's border.
Vota and Spes turned pale as they read the forest's name on the map.
"The Forest of Death!!!" Vota screamed, his thick layers of fat shaking in fear.
"What's so deadly about the forest?" Spes weakly asked the Archmage.
"You shouldn't worry about details. My men will keep you safe throughout the journey," the General interjected, signaling the Archmage to continue as their 'heroes' showed signs of doubt.
"After passing through the forest, you'll cross the Plains of Unending Despair, descend the Canyon of Ghostly Whispers, and finally, after crossing the River of No Memories, you'll reach a road leading directly to the Capital."
The Archmage tried to present their path in the least frightening way possible, yet no matter how he phrased it, the nervousness in their eyes only grew.
Spes stared at the Archmage with teary eyes, silently pleading for an alternative route, while Vota looked ready to faint.
"The frontlines are much worse... right?" Vota tried to calm himself. Even if he wanted to change his mind and chose to go the frontlines instead, the decision had been made. The King would never allow it.
"Consider yourselves heroes embarking on a quest to save the Kingdom. Return successful, and fame and glory will await you all," the King said, attempting to inspire them after seeing their devastation.
"That's settled then. The Royal Armory will be open to all four of you for this quest. Meet me again at dawn before your departure. Everyone dismissed!" the King concluded, not waiting to see if his inspirational words had any effect. He had more pressing meetings to attend, particularly regarding the newly delivered reports.