Fate is a strange thing. Yesterday you crushed the armies of the dead for the glory of the world tree, and today you are locked in a weak body without a drop of mana. The clan is destroyed, and there are so many debts that you want to die again. But I am a druid of the Great Forest and am not used to retreating. Only the heat of the underworld can stop me. And apparently, I'm already in hell. Otherwise, why would my clothes smolder and the flames get close to my body? Well, I'm no stranger to surviving where the rest of us die. I am Dubrovsky and this is my story...