While we are preparing for the Death Knights, another important matter suddenly pops up one evening. Morrigan has reached her evolutionary threshold, and the transformation can no longer be delayed.

  "It comes," she announces during our evening council, her form already beginning to shimmer with barely contained energy. "The change... I cannot hold it back any longer."

  The other lieutenants recognize the significance immediately. Nerk and Gorthal step back, giving her space, while Morkath observes with ancient, patient eyes.

  "Go to the sacred pool," Morkath suggests, pointing toward a secluded corner of the Blackmire settlement. "Water eases transition between forms. Swamp energy supports metamorphosis."

  I accompany Morrigan to this location—a small, perfectly circular pool surrounded by luminescent fungi and flowering plants that seem to pulse in rhythm with her increasingly unstable energy signature. Through our bond, I can feel the transformation building within her, power accumulated over weeks now reaching critical mass.

  "This will be... significant," she warns, her voice already changing, harmonics shifting into new patterns. "First hagraven to evolve beyond natural form in countless generations."

  As she steps into the pool, the water begins to glow with the same energy that surrounds her. Her feathers shimmer, then appear to dissolve into pure light. The transformation accelerates rapidly—her entire form becoming fluid, malleable, reconstructing itself according to some pattern I can barely comprehend.

  The process lasts perhaps five minutes, though it feels much longer. The energy discharge is visible throughout the Blackmire settlement, drawing curious trolls and other monsters to observe from a respectful distance. Even the hagravens under her command watch with reverent awe, witnessing evolutionary possibilities previously unknown to their kind.

  When the transformation completes, the light subsides gradually, revealing Morrigan's new form still partially submerged in the sacred pool. She rises slowly, water streaming from her transformed body, and I struggle to process what I'm seeing.

  She remains clearly monstrous—that much is certain. The power radiating from her feels alien and predatory, unmistakably inhuman. Her limbs extend with unnatural grace, movements suggesting a predator's deadly efficiency. The yellow glow in her eyes has intensified, containing hints of other colors shifting like oil on water.

  "How do you feel?" I ask, sensing the vastly increased power flowing through our bond. With this evolution, Morrigan might just have become my strongest lieutenant.

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  "Reborn," she replies, her voice now carrying harmonics that seem to resonate with the swamp sounds around us. "Enhanced beyond traditional limitations. Magic flows more naturally, requires less effort to channel." She examines her transformed form with evident satisfaction. "The potential was always there in hagraven lineage. Your bond merely unlocked it."

  The other lieutenants approach cautiously. Nerk studies her with tactical assessment, clearly calculating how her new capabilities might be integrated into our military operations. Gorthal's ritual scars pulse faster, responding to the powerful magical signature she now emits. Morkath communes briefly with the swamp consciousness, then nods with approval.

  "Transformation suits purpose," the swamp lord rumbles. "Form follows function. Power shapes vessel that contains it."

  I'm still processing the implications when a goblin messenger arrives, breathing hard from his rapid journey through the marshland.

  "Master! Northern visitors located!" he reports excitedly. "Strange group. Powerful. Request meeting with Monster Lord!"

  "What manner of visitors?" I ask, forcing my attention away from Morrigan's dramatic evolution.

  "Led by elf woman," the goblin explains. "But not ordinary elf. Glows with power like lieutenant." He gestures toward Morrigan. "Travels with two giant cats and what looks like living tree. Asked for you by title—knew you as Monster Lord."

  This is unexpected. Elves haven't featured in our intelligence about the region at all, and I've seen no evidence of their involvement with either local politics or the Death Knights' activities.

  "Could be trap," Nerk suggests immediately. "Death Knights employ many servants."

  "No Death Knight energy signature," Morrigan counters, her newly evolved form stepping from the pool completely. "Would sense their power immediately."

  "Observation post established?" I ask the messenger.

  "Yes, master. Hagraven watchers above, evolved goblin scouts surrounding. Visitors made no hostile moves, wait patiently at swamp edge."

  I consider our options carefully. "Morkath, can the swamp sense their intentions?"

  The troll lord communed briefly with the marshland consciousness. "No malice detected. Curiosity. Interest. Some... urgency. But not threat."

  "Then we'll meet them," I decide. "Neutral ground, just inside swamp territory where we have advantage but they don't feel trapped." I look to my four lieutenants. "All of you will accompany me. Full display of our command structure."

  As we prepare for this unexpected diplomatic engagement, I can't help but marvel at the timing. With Morrigan's evolution complete, my four bond lieutenants represent the pinnacle of their respective species—each transformed beyond natural limitations, each commanding significant forces specialized for different aspects of warfare.

  Whatever these mysterious visitors want, they'll find the Monster Lord's army at the height of its power, ready for any challenge this strange world might present.