Его не звали, но он приперся / They never called, yet he is here: Глава 22

Chapter 22

Camrad_RIP 26.10.23 в 18:28

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Camrad_RIP 26.10.23 в 18:28

The situation, despite its murderous seriousness, reminded me unobtrusively of good old westerns, in particular of the now classic scene in which two cowboys stand opposite each other, waiting to see who will be the first to snatch the gun and feed his opponent with lead, ending a heated discussion. Standing there, calmly and confidently, as if at a social gathering the holy man, despite his battered appearance, did not seem the weaker party. Yes, we were outnumbered, but we were all beaten, too, and, unlike Jerem, we did not have an invisible god standing behind us, healing and encouraging us. If the slaughter starts now, we probably still have a good chance of taking the bastard down, especially in the first few moments of the battle. A blow, a response, and another blow. That's the distance. Depending on how events turn out, the holy man could die unintentionally, and I'll be a namefag for the rest of my life. He can't unrealize that.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 08:45

The boldness of the asshole is quite understandable. We can multiply him by zero, having managed to tear his soul before the incarnate Retribution pulls it to the Heavens. Another thing is that after, I'll only have to kill myself so that it wouldn't hurt so much because even at the best of times and with full preparation for elimination, I wouldn't be able to pull off such a massacre secretly. Right now, the only thing keeping us all off the Warrior's radar is his... competitor, perhaps. Being dependent on someone else's goodwill, the will of someone you don't want to shit on the same field with, was an entirely new experience in my new life, and it made me want to squeeze someone's throat. This someone had to choose his pride - not a man who worked in the office space, to learn to make a simpler and dumber face so as not to embarrass the bosses with reason. This skill had rusted a lot during the isekai time, but I hadn't forgotten it, so instead of a swift approach and activation of the Aegis's afterburner, coupled with a strong male embrace, I just tilted my head to the side, barely audibly, without any Shadow in my words, saying my line.

Camrad_RIP 28.10.23 в 13:52

"Hello." The High Cleric's only normally visible eye squinted back at me as if waiting for me to continue, but he didn't flinch when I took a step toward him, but he tensed slightly.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 08:46

I don't know if he expected me to continue, but I simply stepped toward him, covering the more vulnerable team with my slightly hunched back, pulling down my mask at the same time. In another situation, showing my face would have been foolish, but under the gaze of God, Grimmentray himself, who looks at me through the eyes of his servant, such trifles would hide nothing. But it would cause a palpable tension, a readiness to explode with ruthless action, the embodiment of violence over life and postmortem.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 08:47

My eyes had once been dark brown, but now they were black. Too black, even with the full suppression of my powers already noticeably unnatural in their blackness. His eyes, I could have sworn, were not always so unbearably clear in the immensity of the sky's blue, but now there is so much power in them, so many wonders have passed through them. Even he may not remember their original color. The crossings of glances, so savored in earthly books, mostly love affairs, can say a great deal, more than words and actions even. In my past life, I often laughed at such maxims, saying that his gaze was insane or, say, piercingly honest, blatantly deceitful, and a hundred other epithets and comparisons. Having developed clairvoyance, I don't laugh anymore. To a normal person, the eyes of the interlocutor, most likely, will not say anything unless he is, of course, an Ophthalmologist or a Narcologist. For me, the facets of comparing eyes with mirrors of the soul had long ago opened up, long before this meeting.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:12

I don't know what he saw in my power-damaged eyes, but the calm that had seemed unbreakable, barely perceptible even to my perception, sagged, replaced by a reflexive urge to strike, to break, to destroy, as if a poisonous or simply disgusting-looking insect had crawled onto my arm. A little more, and he would probably have struck, and I also instinctively wished to douse the heavenly spring, cutting my exposed nerves with its presence. Instead, I simply continued my sentence since the cleric was silent for now:

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:15

"Why are you here?" I didn't try to hide my fatigue or poor health, but he could see that without my acting skills, which, unlike Taria, I didn't have much of. "And why did you help?"

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:16

Now, he paused for ominous silence, either trying to shake my equilibrium or being knocked out of the rut by my actions, words, and chosen position in the negotiations. He makes me nervous, even frightens me. He is strong, dangerous, not less if not more than I am, but now I felt for a split second that I was making him mad in return, disrupting his prepared lines of behavior, breaking the plan of future negotiations, shifting the sense of internal balance, which he, for years of serving the Just, used to consider indestructible.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:18

"For many reasons." There is no Heaven or Depth in his voice either, no echo of his God's words, just a confidence, a promise, and a declaration of his decisions that will happen regardless of my attempts to interfere or change his point of view. "From dissatisfaction with the actions of the Ascended One to your and those behind your back's involvement in what just happened."

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:19

A barely perceptible glance behind my back, right where Losius was standing in a half-martial stance, clutching his new sword, said more than words could. I've seen the echoes of that battle. I've seen what the duelist was up against. And that must be worth something, even to this vessel of someone else's will and the one who fills it. Not to mention a whole mythical artifact in the possession of the one who saved the skin of the priest and his entire temple. A helping hand is best extended to those who can put something of value in that hand, giving it in return for their salvation.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:21

I smiled faintly, without anger or malice, but there was no joy in that smile, which didn't look good on my pale-white face. I knew that without a mirror, and after my lips had turned blacker than a pompous, stereotypical Goth from the nearest cemetery, it jumped into the ominous valley right off the bat. He didn't flinch, of course, but I could still sense he was letting out the slightest irritation, like the rippling of clear waters in the breeze, that my psychic senses were picking up at the very edge. Something wasn't going according to his plan, something I was doing differently than he'd originally expected, differently than he'd planned, differently than he'd wanted, which made me feel a little better. Not so invulnerable, not so unreadable as he wants to appear.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:28

Another thing is that I am not very aware of what exactly it is in my behavior that confuses him. Even the very fact of realization comes from the Soul of the Mocker property, grasping something ephemeral, unclear, seeing the effects but not the root cause, and that pisses me off too. Even more than the priest's presence.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:29

"And what do you have to offer?" I basically guess but continue the conversation, even though I know he's realized my guess as well. "What will you take for your participation? What will you counterbalance it with?"

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:31

The last passage caused a dangerous squint in his healthy eye, and the other one was already slowly healing, as was the whole half of his face, which someone had turned into a chop. It's not clear by what, but this hints at something I didn't realize. It hurt him, not so hard, but it still hurt. Eh, Konstantin Yurievich... we troll our interlocutors even one step away from the grave, as we always do. Life hasn't taught anyone anything, despite all the hints, clues, and just kicks in the ass.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:34

"With chance." He throws off all complacency standing before me, showing, notifying, bringing his inevitability to my mind. "If not for you, Summoned One, then for the one who saved my life and my Lord's flock."

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:35

A laugh, pure, ringing, not at all like the shrill squeak of a door hinge and a hyena writhing in agony, the way I laugh. It was as if Heaven smiled, pure and forgiving everyone, from the scoundrel to the saint, accepting everyone, from the great to the insignificant. It was a gleeful, almost happy laugh, and in some respects, I confess, even more, frightening than the alternative hatred of the laughing Shadow.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:36

"I don't need it, Holiness." If I didn't let the force in my voice, Losius didn't want to hold back, couldn't or didn't see fit to, pressing the planarian to his full height. "I made my choice a long time ago."

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 10:42

The priest smiled too, sad and understanding, and I'm sure it wasn't fake, though there was some theatricality in it. That's how an aged veteran smiles, looking at the trailing column of recruits, still believing in battle glory and great feats, not knowing how many of them will never come back. From his age, and the cleric, despite his relatively young appearance, is indeed old, he has the right to look and smile like that. And it was precisely these words of Losius that he had foreseen, swiftly returning to his favorite equilibrium, gaining the same confidence in the outcome he had predetermined.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 10:44

"We all make choices, and they make us us." Taking his time, demonstratively showing a lack of evil intent, the priest removes a strange squiggle from his belt, as if two figure eights superimposed on each other, cast in a slightly bluish metal. "And there is a price to pay for each one. To you, to me, to all of us, Summoned One."

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 10:45

The Hero's Gaze malfunctioned, almost watering from trying to see the status of this undoubted artifact, and it would be hard to put into words how tense Tia and Giver, standing behind me, were. The jewelry doesn't even smell like danger. It's like a grave, a mountain avalanche that you can't stop but pray and wait it out, hoping it doesn't crush you. If it does come to a fight, the first thing to do is not to let him use the jewelry. Otherwise, it's over, it's all over, it's the finish line, the early end.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 10:47

"I, too, have a knack for pushing philosophy with a smart look." Despite the ever-increasing tension, I, on the contrary, am more and more cheerful and calm every moment, even if it is the calm of a dead man, with which one used to march under tanks with a single grenade. "Sometimes, I even manage to pretend to be clever. I have another question: how did you find us? I mean, that you followed my companion, it's clear, but I didn't notice it."

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 10:48

Again, the pause. Again, the feeling that I was, without fully realizing it, treading on some weak point, finding a vulnerability, only I had to figure out which one. He was expecting an attack, despite the demonstration of peaceful intentions, simply because it was impossible to let him activate the concentration of power he had taken in his hands. It should have been done nicely, even before the meaningless dialog began, but it was because the old prick seemed to be leading me to that thought, playing on Shadow's instincts rather than man's, that I was in no hurry to make a last parade.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 10:52

"If you'd noticed me, foreigner, that would have been a sign that it was time for poor Jeremus to retire." Like myself, he acts as nonchalant as if he were talking to a coworker on a smoke break, only he can't hide his tension completely, or perhaps he just doesn't want to. "The bond between his Blade and the One he freed is still too strong, despite the Winged Maiden being banished to the Heavens. It is through this bond that I have traveled, with his help, as if by a guiding thread. In time, this trick will cease to work, and the axes of perception will shift, but for me, as I saw the moment of her fall into Heaven almost at close range, such a technique was not difficult."

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 10:57

The answer was honest and detailed, yet said absolutely nothing, but it was as streamlined as the hull of a space shuttle. I wondered if he was exaggerating or understating the difficulty of the trick. And after a couple of months of our time away from civilization, he won't be able to do it again, or is that what he wants me to think? So hard it is to play against someone out of your league, though. I used to be the strongest clairvoyant in the room, not even inferior to the whole circle of the Seers, but now I felt like a rookie going up against a pro and trying not to embarrass myself.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 10:59

"You don't have much of a choice, I'll be honest." The same slightly sad smile on his gradually healing face, only underneath it was the cold grin of someone else's will and complete confidence in his rightness. "You realize it yourself, and I am only voicing it. Your deeds have been evaluated, weighed, and deemed worthy of this conversation, not death like cattle in a slaughterhouse under the steel of the manifested Blades. I can only give your men a chance, promising them a chance to leave, and give you your last battle, Hero."

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:00

However, how he beautifully determined who he would give a chance to and who he would fuck right off. Only humans, not behemoths, creatures, or elves. It makes sense because saving Tia is like shooting yourself in the foot, just like helping me. She killed a lot of important people for the Empire, even without taking into account the Second Prince, but her act of terrorism will not redeem her participation in the last battle. At most, they would allow her to take poison after a thorough interrogation, not to be put to death in the dungeons, and it was not a sure thing because there might be someone willing to practice the same slavemancy on her.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:02

Hestia was already closer to the creature than to the behemoth, so much she fattened after the devoured cauldron that was the late Touch. For me, she is a companion, whom I chose and whom I will consider mine even now, but for the priest, the former Raimel is just a dangerous thing harnessed by some subordination, which should be killed just out of a sense of self-preservation. I don't even want to talk about the devil's cutie, who now resides in the cultist's body, and I'd be glad to get rid of her myself.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:11

Only Hans, Losius, and Taria remain the only ones worthy of salvation from the High Priest's point of view, but he doesn't count on Taria and doesn't take her into account, obviously having found traces of subjugation or simply considering her unworthy of his recruitment efforts. I'm even willing to bet that he considers his act as nobility and readiness to repay for his contribution to the victory rather than a desire to snatch the bearer of a mythical artifact. He wants to help, but in his way, in the Alurean way, so to speak, sowing justice and giving what he deserves. At this moment, my head finally clicks, and the pieces of the puzzle come together, not all of them, not even half of them, but enough to judge what's going on, at least superficially.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:18

Jerem, like the Patron behind him, could not miss the artifact Ring on my finger and its nature. He could not miss the changes in my body, the consequences of losing my human nature in every sense of expression. He considers me already a creature, only by the persistence of a Summoned Hero, whom he himself has not met but has read about the phenomenon, held within the confines of a former character. He thinks I am pretending even to myself, trying to cling to the remnants of the past! And he would have been right if he had met me after that first blow of the dead Sovereign when the poison of his Lust had forced me to kill my own self in order not to die with him.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:22

From his point of view, he wants to save my companions from me, from an almost creature that will die and take everyone else with it. No one has told the priest the reasons why I chose the Mentalist Ring for my journey. He knows neither me nor them, judging everyone here on his own scale, on the principles of life in this cursed world. For him, I am sure. It is not even a problem, not a moral dilemma, but an ordinary situation when you have to give justice even to the one you are about to kill and whom you despised or even hated a moment before.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:25

The rivalry with the Warrior, the desire to get mythic in his hands, the intention to properly dispose of the information I'd extracted from the Fall Executioner's head, the need to take back the Eternal Dynasty family blade I'd stolen. All of that was secondary, derived from the very certainty that I was right. He has already judged me, already weighed me, and set a price he deems fair. He has already pronounced a verdict of my guilt, only softening the sentence at the expense of the deed I did, paying for the consequences of that deed with that softness.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:27

In a situation like this, I would have to bargain, maybe even get some more, if not run away from the battle. I could have rushed into battle, just confirming all his expectations, making myself look like exactly what he saw in me, rushing into battle and dying in it since he offered it himself and didn't even doubt the outcome of the battle. What I shouldn't have done in such circumstances was to lose control and let my shit temper out because my head was supposed to be cold.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:36

The smile on my face changed from tired and sad to a completely different one, unexpected for me, for my interlocutor, and for his master, too. Not the grin of a cornered creature ready to sell its life for higher prices, trying to last longer. Not the grimace of horror at the inevitable verdict, the unwillingness to end my own fairy tale before its time, the fear of the end of my last adventure. I have enough anger on my face, as well as in the depths of my seething hatred, but far more, there is pure, unclouded, simply burning contempt. And that emotion, that feeling, now bursting from my very gut, struck the priest who was listening intently, making him recoil, clutching his bling tighter, losing his balance again, only now it was slower to regain it.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:38

"Who the fuck are you to judge me?" I utter it without hissing or clawing at my throat, almost a whisper, barely perceptible. "Who gave you the right to do that, you fucking justice?"

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:38

Instead of the cleric, it was something hidden behind the blue of his eyes, as if it had pushed the servant deeper into his body, stepping forward, overwhelming him with a power that made me, even at full boost, seem offensively small and defenseless. I was looking at him, who had made sentencing everyone and everything part of his essence. Embodied it, and raised it on a pedestal of greatness.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:40

"I gave that Right." Every syllable is hammered into my head with a judge's hammer, every letter imprinted on my skull with a scorched symbol, and behind me are staggering companions who have had only a fraction of what has fallen upon me. "And who are you to dare challenge that right?"

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:41

A moment more, and I would have fallen to my knees, unable to withstand the pressure of pure power, concentrated into one clear ray-sentence, like a condemning executioner's blade. The shadows did not respond, the connection to the planes seemed to bubble up, lost, and reappeared, preventing me from tuning into the battle, and even the faithful Aegis did not want to respond to my orders. But instead of sprawling on the floor like an unhappy frog that met with a boot, I sharply threw forward my hand, grabbing... the very same amulet, snatching it from Jerem Steyr's unclenched palm.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:43

He was probably expecting all sorts of things, especially an attack, but not what I just did. It's like trying to wrestle a flamethrower from an enemy's hands by grabbing the jet of flammable liquid it releases. Welcome to my world, asshole. We do not know the instinct of self-preservation as well as the laws of reality and God's will. Nevertheless, my actions took the symphony of the priest and his God, which was crushing me out of combat mode for a while, easing the pressure on the whole of me.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:45

Aegis and Form activated in that brief window, turning the body into an inky-black silhouette, clutching an artifact glowing blue and reflecting the waves of the sea, which was burning the shadow body to a fleshy pulp right now, despite the Aegis that was almost in afterburner. The sensation of such touch was comparable to the agony of a Sovereign's blow taken directly on a naked body. It wasn't even pain, but something deeper, something completely different, something unimaginably crushing the nature of anyone, from beggars to kings.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:50

The shadow gave me the strength not to fall but to straighten up, feeling the glimpses of the power that touched me vaporize pieces of instantly regenerating flesh, the gut hidden in the depths of blackness burning in agony. Even without a direct touch, just being within range of this thing, there was little chance of fighting back or surviving the attack. But once it was in his hands, taken voluntarily, against orders, and without Grimmentray's permission, even those ephemeral chances faded into the depths of the Abyss. But I don't even think of stopping, of tossing God's toy aside, of sheltering myself in the dome of Loneliness. It's not how I want this day to end.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 12:24

Even if I die now, I'll be able to say what I think right in the bastards' faces, even if it's the last act of my too-long life.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 12:24

Instead of shielding myself from the pain, from the guilt I bear, I only open myself to it, against all the logic of the world and even against the description of my own class skills, burning the intangible shadow body into somehow quite living meat. I can't deflect the sentence, can't prevent it, don't even try, instead passing my own judgment, even if it has no force of its own, even if I have no right to it.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 12:25

It wasn't words, if only because I wouldn't have time to utter them, only a mute accusation, an indication of what should be pointed out. Almost forgotten images, like an old and frayed dream, a memory from a literal past life before I had even set foot on the land of Alurei. At that time, my mind, still untrained, completely human, and lacking the ability to see into the essence, took this thing for a regular file folder, like hundreds of hundreds I'd seen in the office, just floating in the air. The mind of the newcomer simply did not perceive the truth, hiding behind the illusions of habit, seeing only a stupid wrapper behind which hid the bloody, as hundreds of years of working slaughterhouse, the truth.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 12:27

A list of obituaries, a few lines of description of other people's fates, the fates of those who were here before me, who finished their journey or will finish it without breathing the air of their own free will. I am sure. I just know that if I look at that folder now, I will see not files and plastic spines but a damp, oozing blood, a grave, a cenotaph, a tombstone, a memorial built right in the Hall of Choice for those who were not mourned at home or here, who were not needed either here or there. They are all there, on those pages, hidden in a few lines, in a couple of sentences, in a dozen words.

Camrad_RIP 03.11.23 в 11:47

Is that what you call Justice?

Camrad_RIP 28.10.23 в 13:52

The pain became unbearable at the very beginning, but each moment revealed new facets of it. Each moment must be the last, marking the finale in which I will be crushed like a cockroach with a slipper. I am standing, breathing, living, not because of my strength, not at the cost of unchanging stubbornness, not out of a desire not to die, but only and only for the sake of these names, which no one remembers anymore. They keep me on my feet. They stand behind me. They stand behind my back just as the Verdictor stands behind his Priest. They take a part of their anger. They share with me my loneliness, my pain, my hatred, my fear, my despair. They don't really exist. They are only in my imagination. Any support from them is just a figment of my wild imagination, but that doesn't change a thing.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:41

I'm not standing because of them.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:37

I'm standing for their sake.

Camrad_RIP 29.10.23 в 09:38