As they sat in stunned silence, Huebert let his smile linger, savoring their reactions before his tone shifted back to a darker seriousness. He crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on them with a hard edge that demanded their attention.

“Now,” he began, pacing slowly in front of them, “about that elf—the one I mentioned before. He’s no ordinary threat. Out of control, reckless, and far stronger than you three combined. A level 23 necromancer with untapped, raw power is… well, let’s say he’s a walking disaster waiting to happen.”

Valmet tilted her head, intrigued. “So why’s he a target? And why hasn’t anyone stopped him?”

Huebert glanced at her, a glint of amusement in his eye. “Excellent question. That’s because, up until recently, he’s managed to keep to the shadows. But his attacks are getting bolder, and his kills—more brutal. He’s been hunting mafia members tied to… certain dark rituals and practicing on women of the night. It seems our young elf has a vendetta, and he’s not too picky about collateral damage.”

Steven shifted uneasily, his mind still spinning from Huebert’s earlier display. “So how are we supposed to even find him? Let alone stop him?”

Huebert smirked, turning to face him. “With my help, of course. There’s a spell I’ll teach you, a tracking spell, but it’ll only work when you’re close to him, and even then, it won’t last long. And even if you do manage to track him, you’re far from strong enough to face him head-on.”

“Then how are we supposed to stop him?” Melody asked, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

Huebert chuckled, a dry, humorless sound. “Let’s be realistic. The three of you, fresh from the nest, won’t be able to defeat him in a direct fight. But there’s more to taking down a target than brute strength. You’ll need strategy, cunning, and a bit of, shall we say, creativity.” He paused, his smile twisting. “Think like hunters, not heroes. like dogs on the scent of a kill they hunt in packs and know when to back down”

Valmet’s eyes narrowed, a hint of determination hardening her expression. “So… find him, outwit him, and use our brains to bring him down?”

Huebert nodded approvingly. “Exactly. Learn his movements, anticipate his attacks, and exploit his weaknesses. He’s reckless, and that’ll be your advantage. Once you’re close, I’ll guide you in taking the fight to him—if you survive that long.”

Steven swallowed, his face pale but resolved. “And if we can’t handle it?”

Huebert shrugged, his smile widening. “Then you won’t live to see level two. But,” he added with a smirk, “if you do succeed, you’ll gain enough experience to grow stronger, maybe even make a name for yourselves.”

As Huebert paced in front of them, explaining the dangers of the rogue elf and the complexity of the hunt ahead, the mage’s bound and mummified figure loomed in the shadows behind him, wrapped in twisted chains, jagged spikes embedded into her form like a grotesque display.

Valmet stole a glance at the figure, her eyes tracing over the bindings and the twisted, warped expression on what remained of the mage’s face. It was a silent reminder of the fate that awaited those who dared to cross Huebert. Despite her composed expression, there was a chill settling over her, the reality of their situation sinking deeper with every glance.

Steven, shifting uncomfortably, kept catching glimpses of the mage, his stomach twisting as the image seemed to loom larger each time he looked. He tried to focus on Huebert’s words, but his eyes kept drifting back to the horrific display, as if the mage’s hollow, tormented eyes were following him, pleading silently from beneath the chains. His face paled, and he swallowed hard, his grip tightening around his sleeve.

Melody, visibly unnerved, shot anxious glances over her shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that the figure was somehow watching them. Every so often, her gaze would flick back to it, her fingers fidgeting as she tried to look away but failed. She took a sharp breath, focusing her attention on Huebert, but the image burned in the corner of her eye, an ever-present reminder of the darkness they were delving into.

Huebert, noticing their wandering eyes, smirked with a kind of twisted satisfaction. “Ah, yes,” he remarked casually, glancing over his shoulder at the figure himself. “Quite the masterpiece, isn’t it? A reminder that even the mighty can fall… and that certain mistakes are fatal.”

The room grew colder, the atmosphere thick with a sense of dread. The mage’s form lingered, a silent, grim witness to Huebert’s power and the stakes they faced.

As Huebert continued his speech, each member of the group found their gaze drifting toward the figure suspended in the shadows, the bound and mummified remains of a mage who had once defied him. She hung in the darkness, chains binding her arms and legs, spikes embedded deep into her body as though to restrain a volatile force even in death. A faint, singed smell still lingered around her, as if the essence of her magic had clung to her corpse even after so many years.

Her face was frozen in a macabre smile, an expression of reckless joy mixed with terror, as though she had been caught in her own spell’s backlash. In the moments before her end, she must have thought herself invincible, relishing in the thrill of power. Now, her empty eye sockets seemed to mock them, a silent warning to those who would dare tread her path.

Huebert watched their reactions, his gaze flicking between each of them, savoring their growing discomfort. Valmet stared, her expression cool but curious, absorbing the sight without flinching. Steven, however, looked away, his stomach twisting as he tried not to imagine the agony she must have endured. Melody’s hands shook slightly, her usual bravado fading as the reality of Huebert’s cruelty settled over her.

“Oh, I see you’ve noticed her,” Huebert drawled, a smirk playing at his lips. He gestured casually at the bound mage. “She was a character, that one. A fire mage with a flair for the dramatic. Thought she was invincible, too.”

Steven swallowed, unable to look at the figure directly, though his eyes kept flickering back to her, drawn by morbid curiosity. “What… what happened to her?”

Huebert’s smirk widened as he approached the mummified figure, his hand reaching out to trace one of the chains. “She had a love for explosions, you see. A true pyromaniac, practically addicted to her own flames. Her specialty was a spell she called Inferno Burst. One spell, one explosive display of power. Every battle, every fight, she would scream her incantation, calling down an inferno on anything that moved.”

Valmet raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite herself. “So, what went wrong?”

Huebert chuckled darkly. “She got cocky. She thought one spell made her powerful—thought she could rely on her flashy explosions to carry her through every battle. But she forgot one thing…” He leaned in close to the mummified face, his voice a whisper that carried across the room. “A fire that burns too brightly leaves nothing but ash.”

He turned back to the group, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “In the end, she tried to unleash her precious spell on me, hoping to go out in one last glorious explosion.” His smirk twisted into something cruel. “I didn’t even give her the satisfaction. I bound her mid-incantation, her magic caught within her, burning her from the inside out. By the time she realized her mistake, it was too late.”

Steven’s face was ashen, his hand covering his mouth as he struggled to process what he was hearing. “Why… why keep her like this?”

Huebert shrugged, his tone casual. “She’s a reminder. A lesson for others who might think a single spell, a bit of flash, is enough to make them strong.” He traced his fingers along one of the spikes embedded in her body, as if admiring his own handiwork. “Besides, she serves as a fine little ‘trophy’—an homage to a life wasted on theatrics.”

Melody’s eyes widened, a mix of fear and revulsion in her expression. She stared at the mage’s bound form, the chains and spikes turning her into a grotesque monument to her own hubris. She had power, Melody thought, but it hadn’t saved her. A shiver ran down her spine as she realized just how thin the line between strength and self-destruction could be.

Huebert’s gaze flicked to each of them, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Let this be a reminder to you all. You may have potential, but relying on theatrics, on one spell, one move, will get you killed. I’m not here to make you heroes. I’m here to make sure you survive.”

He took a step back, letting the weight of his words settle over them. The mage’s twisted, frozen grin loomed in the background, a silent, eerie testament to the truth of Huebert’s lesson.

As the night deepened, a sense of exhaustion began to weigh down on the group. Huebert stretched, his voice turning uncharacteristically gentle as he gave a dramatic yawn. “Well, my dear apprentices, it seems we’ve had quite an eventful evening. But as much as I enjoy your company, I think it’s time for you to head back.”

With a snap of his fingers, a small parcel appeared in each of their hands, wrapped in crinkling black paper with a faint sheen. The scent of something sweet wafted up from the packages.

“Consider these a little treat for the road,” Huebert said, smirking. “Demonic sweets—they taste like your favorite flavors, so long as you don’t think too hard about what they’re made from.”

Steven looked at the package in his hands, still rattled from the earlier revelations, but curiosity won out as he cautiously unwrapped it. Inside were soft, dark candies that looked odd but smelled enticing. He took a bite, his face lighting up as he tasted a warm, rich caramel flavor.

Valmet gave her sweets a quick glance before pocketing them, her mind too restless for food. Huebert noticed and handed her a small, slightly battered book bound in faded leather, the title embossed in a whimsical, curling font: Spellcasting for Dummies.

“You’ll need this,” Huebert said, his expression almost fond. “It was written by an old friend of mine, and I assure you, it’s the best primer you’ll get for spells at your level. If you want to survive, you’ll need to start with the basics.”

Valmet took the book, feeling the weight of it in her hands. She gave him a grudging nod of thanks, surprised by the thoughtful gift despite its tongue-in-cheek title. The cover was worn, the pages dog-eared, as if it had been well-loved by its previous owner.

"Woof" Vamlet said a cheeky remark to their new roles in life, the dogs of a demon.

Huebert waved them off, his smirk returning as he watched them leave. “Remember, darlings,” he called after them, “the world is far darker than it seems. If you want to face what’s out there, you’ll need more than just flashy spells and sweet words.” His laughter echoed in the night as the door to his dimensional cube faded away, leaving them alone in the scrapyard.

The group stood in silence for a moment, the reality of the evening finally settling over them. The scrapyard was eerily quiet, the only sound the faint rustling of metal in the wind. They began to walk, each lost in their thoughts, the weight of Huebert’s lessons pressing down on them.

After a few minutes, Melody let out a sigh, breaking the silence. “Look, Valmet… I don’t like you your creepy and fucked up freak, and I don’t think that’s going to change any time soon. But we’re in this mess together, so… maybe we can tolerate each other long enough to survive?”

Valmet glanced at her, the memory of the mage’s twisted, mummified form still fresh in her mind. She knew they’d need to work together if they had any hope of dealing with the dangers ahead. “Fine by me bitch,” she replied, her voice steady. “We don’t have to like each other but we cant escape huebert, so lets play along for now. Just don’t get in my way.”

Steven looked between them, a tentative smile on his face. “Well, that’s… progress?” he offered, trying to lighten the mood.

They kept walking, their uneasy truce settling in, each of them aware that the path ahead was far from clear. In the dark of the scrapyard, they felt more like strangers than friends, bound together by circumstances none of them fully understood. But for now, it was enough.

As they neared the edge of the scrapyard, Valmet clutched the Spellcasting for Dummies book closer to her chest, feeling the first spark of determination lighting up inside her. Whatever lay ahead, she would be ready for it.