Shaige saw Ifrit's transformation in the corner of his eye, though his eyes remained transfixed on the wraith that had just arrived. To turn away and leave one's self exposed to a creature that hungered for souls would have been a poor decision. The Keeper, after giving the spirit time to respond and receiving only silence, answered Ifrit. [b]"Now, We leave this place. I have been away from my domain for far too long."[/b]

With a wave of a ghostly hand concealed by his new robe's long sleeves, Ifrit disappeared from the spirit realm. Shaige followed suit a moment later, leaving behind the wraith. The duo would find themselves a thousand feet above the carnage outside of Paterdomus. Down below, people were coming out of the city to search for their relatives amongst the surviving soldiers. As the ash and charred corpses testified, many would not be found.

Though still slightly affected to gravity, Ifrit would find himself mostly pulled upwards and buffeted to the sides, subject to the whims of the slightest eddies of wind. The fact that nobody below looked up in alarm at seeing a massive, floating monster would be Ifrit's first hint as to what had happened. Upon appearing, Shaige was quick to summon up an ethereal link that tethered his mostly incorporeal form to Ifrit's. The beast was no doubt unaccustomed to moving about as a ghost.

Shaige voice resonated inside of Ifrit's mind, [i]"You are halfway back. No longer in the spirit realm, but not entirely in this one either. You are what the ignorant humans call a 'ghost'. In this form we can fly quickly and undetected, back to a safe place. Then, I shall restore your body."[/i]

Without further ado, Shaige flew through the air towards his dungeon, faster than any bird. Ifrit would find himself dragged behind by an invisible cord, secured enough to not fall behind much more than a few hundred feet or get blown away by wind, but not so much that he couldn't move around a bit. It would no doubt be an odd sensation, being tugged along by Shaige as he assumed such a small, weightless form.

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Balon howled in pain for several moments as his leg was removed, but then suddenly fell silent. The adrenaline removed much of the pain, and his hatred gave him the strength to ignore what remained. [i]"The fool,"[/i] thought Balon, [i]dares to come so close while one of my arms is still free."[/i] The thought struck Balon to wrap his free hand around the tiny torso of the girl hidden beneath the black sludge and golden eyes, and squeeze until her ribs came out of her mouth. He banished the thought. It was be suicide; it was clear that this strange monster had him beat. He would do as it asked, for now.

Balon thought for another long moment. He possessed a talent for killing and conquering, not demonstrating 'intelligence'. What did he know that this...thing didn't? In a sudden motion Balon hand snatched up the corpse of a dead runner, before it floated to the bottom of the tunnel and out of Balon's reach. The thing had been one of the ones tearing at the giant's armor, and had unfortunately come into contact with the plagued water that the old king conjured. At this point, its body more resembled a blackened husk than a creature. Balon's gaze drifted from Xir'ain to the dead runner. As he looked at it, the corpse's flesh somehow began to fester and rot more than it already had.

"Do you see the wretched thing?" Balon at last spoke. "Dead. Its mind, muscles, and organs all reduced to rot. Food hardly fit for maggots. I didn't do that. Countless tiny creatures did. Creatures so small that you can't even see them. They infest the bodies of the living and cause disease. Then they infest the bodies of the dead and have a feast, reducing it to dirt and rot. I have discovered how to manipulate these miniscule beings with magic, and use them to slay other creatures within seconds."

His two blind eyes met Xir'ain's golden ones with an unnerving stare, while the living one atop his forehead constantly flitted its gaze between the two. "Do you know what this means?" Balon asked. "Let me live, and I could conjure a plague the likes of which you have never seen."

 "I could reduce your enemies to this," Balon said as he brandished the dead runner, his voice growing in volume.