🍁Nine Ancient Obelisks

—What, just like that!—and during a war council?—asked a school-aged boy with undisguised curiosity.
—In our lives, all important events happen unexpectedly,” one of those trembling, hoarse voices replied, as if a single uttered word stole a significant portion of one's vital energy. —I barely managed to stuff a chocolate bar in my pocket, and suddenly I was marching to the hall with a Black Knight.
—Wow!—the little boy spun around the rocking chair even more excitedly. —But I don't understand... Are there many different types of these knights? And where do they come from? And why are they always so silent and intimidating?
—It's so that every enemy immediately understands: you're not facing a person, but a natural disaster,” the storyteller raised a gnarled finger. —Although, I must admit, there are no fewer people who want to move to another world because of them.
—So, what happened next?
—And then the king sent me away—well, I huddled in a corner, neither alive nor dead; I stood there, afraid to breathe, just admiring the ceiling. Then the fear passed, and I even noticed something useful for myself.
—And were all the cool guys gathered there? Grandpa, don't fall asleep!
The boy's nudge in the side almost killed the frail old man.
—...Ah, what? Oh yes, I see: endless rows of undead are marching.
—Where are they marching?—the boy didn't understand.
—Straight towards us! Neither walls nor water matter to them; it's just a swarm of black bones. And among them are our own—from the capital—here and there...
—Don't rush the events, grandpa! You were talking about the meeting.
—Right? ...Well, all the important figures were there, of course. My mentor, I don't remember if we exchanged glances. And I felt so proud of our erudite assignment! I immediately wanted to start researching the contagious undead. They're not wrong when they say that progress is equally triumphant in both peacetime and wartime.
—And what about the king?
—Our father had already calculated everything in advance. If I could think as quickly, maybe I could afford to play cards! Ah, the gifted deck is still gathering dust in my closet. Do you play "Thousand" anymore?
—Grandpa, no one plays that old stuff anymore,” the boy grimaced. —There aren't even any legendary heroes dropping from chests. So, what happened then?...


This dialogue could have been a great ending to the epilogue, but with a show of willpower, the young scholar pushed his imagination to the back of his mind.

This exchange of instructions and agreement to fulfill them continued for some time, after which there was a short break, during which Asmidul managed to exchange a few words with the monarch again.
—This is what happens behind closed doors at state meetings,” he explained the obvious, handing the boy the deck of cards they had been playing with earlier. —I won't forget about the two outstanding answers. And you can practice playing better in the meantime—even if it's not good advice to give to someone who has already lost twice. And read a book sometime, I highly recommend it.

—As if I could have imagined it that way, but in reality, it's completely different,” Asmidul commented on the meeting, trying to keep his voice calm. —I just wanted to ask... Do the undead have any flying devices? So that our land and water defenses don't falter on the aerial front.

Taking the deck, he perked up slightly.
—Thank you for the gifts, the advice, and for your hospitality in general. ...Then I'll take you at your word! So that we can discuss the game we just finished, and many new ones in the future!