Готовый перевод История Королевы Эльфов / The story of the Elf Queen: 43. Финал

Final
* * *

* * *

Folding her arms across her chest, Sivila said gloomily:

"Do you think he was involved?"

Third, who, like the queen, had already taken his third dose of alchemical stimulants, nodded affirmatively:

"Either himself or someone in his inner circle. I don't rule out that Lord Ferran was “proceed”, but based on what we've seen in the First Temple of Iyastar, we can assume that he, like Dormian, acted voluntarily. Or he was controlled without “processing” by more standard methods. But I find that unlikely, after all, Westmark's city councilors are regularly cross-checked for mind influence. They've all been burned more than once, and mental security is something that self-respecting people take very seriously."

Leaning back, the Head of the Secret Guard shrugged:

"In any case, now it is impossible to know for sure. Our dear Master has cleaned up this mess quite well."

"I see. What about the inhabitants of the estate where he was hiding?"

"All were killed in the first seconds of the assault as soon as the alarm went up. Their bodies were found all over the manor, all of them killed by a single magical strike. The fire did a lot of damage not only to their bodies but also to their subtle shells. Our masters will try to get something out of them, but it's unlikely to yield anything. So far, the main theory is that all the inhabitants of the manor were bound by a single weave that allowed them to die on command."

Sighing heavily, Sivila grumbled in a tired voice:

"I have no doubt. What about the rulers of Westmark?"

"Predictably, the city council threw a real tantrum and set the entire Confederacy on edge. They demanded explanations from us and immediate military aid as part of the Free Cities' Alliance obligations. But after our emissaries talked to them, things were mostly settled. Now, however, they are demanding compensation for the damage they have caused, but with considerably less insistence."

“Also quite expected,” nodded Sivila.

"But with our dear, in every sense, northern neighbors, everything was much more complicated..."

Grimacing as if from a sharp toothache, the queen grumbled:

"I can imagine..."

* * *

An urgent call on her personal communication amulet had caught Sivila just as the assault on the manor where Master's laboratory was located was almost complete. A call of maximum urgency, requiring an immediate response. Without taking her eyes off the images of the artifact mirrors that projected what was happening in the laboratory, the queen clenched the amulet and mentally said:

//I'm listening.

The image of the Supreme Emissary appeared in Sivila's mind. He, throwing aside all propriety and etiquette, immediately came to the point in an undiplomatically straightforward manner:

//“ Sivila. What the fuck are you guys up to? The Confederation and the Theocracy are howling in unison about acts of aggression, and the latter have taken our mission under siege and threatened us with holy war if they don't get an immediate explanation. And I don't even have anything to say to them. Because I don't know a damn thing about what you've done and why you've done it”

By the standards of the always professionally restrained chief elven diplomat, these words could be considered practically the equivalent of street swearing. Without twitching an eyebrow or an ear, the queen calmly replied:

//“I perfectly understand your irritation. You, and not only you, will get all the details of our operation at the next urgent extended meeting of the Supreme Council. Which we have already announced. In the meantime, you may report the following to the sun worshippers and confederates.”

With an effort of will, the Queen sent the Supreme Emissary a message-explanation prepared for him in advance. Upon receiving it, the head of the Forest's diplomats spent about a minute familiarizing himself with them. After which, he uttered a single word:

//"Seriously?"

//"Absolutely"

The Supreme Emissary was silent for a few seconds, then said thoughtfully:

//"I will pass on your messages. And I will eagerly await ALL the details of your operation."

//"I have no doubt"

Having said goodbye to the chief diplomat, Sivila returned to monitoring the progress of the operation.

* * *

The temporary Senior Emissary of the Forest in Iyastar kept his face as calm as he could. Hundreds of years of diplomatic service and professional experience have contributed to that. As well as a complex of the best protective amulets, designed to conceal the thoughts and emotions of the owner, which the Emissary Corps of the Forest could afford. Therefore, from the outside, it might seem that the elf standing in one of the rooms of the Pervohram, wearing the impeccable white and blue robes of a diplomat, was absolutely calm. In reality, however, he was not. And few people could keep their composure, standing before several of the Sun-Face's High Hierarchs at once in the very heart of his power on earth. Very angry High Hierarchs, through whose glowing eyes their equally angry overlord was now looking at him.

Having managed to cleanse himself and bring himself into the required form, the King-Priest Arnuil the First said in an icy voice:

"We await your explanation, Firstborn. What have your kinsmen done to my city?!"

The Priest-King spoke the last phrase in a voice that was not his own. In each word, the sheer power of a very disgruntled celestial could be heard. The Senior Emissary kept his face, but mentally prepared for the worst. Nevertheless, without wavering his voice, with the standard elven diplomatic politeness, he said:

"While investigating the kidnappings of their kin, Forest came across an unknown gifted individual who was very knowledgeable in several schools of magic, working with the minds of his victims. A prodigy of whom Forest had no prior knowledge. His trail led Forest agents to Iyastar. Here they were able to determine that Dormian de Faler, head of the House of the same name, was in cahoots with this unknown prodigy. He was just about to arrive in the city with his ransomed captives. The agents assumed that he and this gifted one were planning to commit some sort of atrocity against one of the High Hierarchs."

As the Elven diplomat spoke, the already angry faces of the High Hierarchs grew even more gloomy. But for now, everyone remained silent.

"However, none of our agents or analysts involved in the search for this gifted man could even guess at the scale of what he had planned. Had it been otherwise, we would have informed the High Hierarchs. Preempting your question as to why we didn't do it sooner. First, to avoid scaring off this gifted man, about whom we knew nothing but that he posed a great danger. The second is that we couldn't be sure that there were no puppets already recruited by him among you. Because even among the firstborn there were some, despite all the checks. The culmination of all this was the incident at the First Temple today. During which, - here the elf deliberately added hardness to his voice and gave his face a classic elven haughty expression, - it was our agents who saved your Holy Maiden from being fucked right on the main altar of the First Temple. And in doing so, saved you all from possibly losing your anal virginity."

Turning his head slightly towards the Commander of the Bright Paladins, the diplomat added casually:

"At least those of you who still have it."

The green-skinned giant, seated in full plate armor that shone with golden embossed patterns, jerked sharply, but the will of his master held him in place.

"And that's all I can tell you for now," the standard-bearing, imperturbable elven diplomat finished speaking.

In confirmation of his words, the Senior Emissary showed the small altar of Damocar, a small white stone ball he was holding in his hand as he spoke. It glowed brightly and evenly as he spoke. Demonstrably slowly, the diplomat placed it on the edge of the table in front of the High Hierarchs, and with a slight movement directed the orb toward the Priest-King. As if it were not made of stone, it rolled easily toward Arnuil, stopping exactly in front of him. For a few seconds, the Priest-King stared at the elf with glowing eyes, then slowly squeezed the orb in his hand. It flared even more, changing from a snow-white light to a yellowish-solar light. Then, with a stony expression on his face, Arnuil said in a voice that was not his own:

"Your words have been heard, Firstborn. You may go. For now."

With a perfect bow, the interim Senior Emissary turned and left the Priest-King's office, where the most difficult negotiations of his not-so-short life had just taken place. As soon as the doors closed behind him, Arnuil the First's eyes flashed with fire, and he slammed his fist down with all his might on the tabletop. All the High Hierarchs seated at the table shuddered and slumped their heads into their shoulders:

"How did you let this happen?! Where were you looking?! What were you doing?!"

Aurora and Mayer sitting next to each other shrank back even more, but they did not attempt to justify themselves. Arnuil, or rather the Sun-Face that now spoke through his mouth, turning the Priest-King almost into his own Avtar, continued:

"In the First Temple, in the very heart of the Bright City, they did not notice the enemies! I entrusted you with my greatest treasure, and you almost lost her! Do you even understand what could have happened?!"

The enraged celestial screamed the last phrase so loudly that his subordinates almost went deaf.

"Do whatever you want, however you want, but find him! Find the one who trespassed against my will, against my flesh and blood! And start with these worthless peddlers who betrayed the sacred law of hospitality!"

After saying that, the light in the eyes of the High Hierarchs practically faded, even the Priest King's. Everyone immediately exhaled involuntarily. Someone wiped the sweat from his face. And then...

"Arrrghhh! Fuck! Damn! Help, dammit!"

Biting his lip in pain, Arnuil grabbed his right hand with his left hand, which had been broken when he hit the table.

* * *

When he returned under the escort of Bright Paladins to the representation of the Forest, the interim Senior Emissary first of all reported to his immediate superior about the negotiations. The Supreme Emissary, having received the detailed report, discreetly praised his subordinate and told him to wait for further instructions. There were no other urgent matters in the still half-disappeared Solstice representative office, and the interim Senior Emissary went to his office, ordering himself not to be disturbed unless absolutely necessary. It was only after he had closed the doors to his new office and made sure that the defenses were at full strength, cutting him off from the outside world, he allowed himself to exhale, leaning back against the doors. All the equanimity immediately vanished from the elven diplomat's face, replaced by an expression of profound relief. His heart was pounding like a madman's, and his whole body began to tremble from the exertion.

"Sir, are you all right?"

The cautious question of the young and rather attractive servant girl, whom he had almost personally raised and trained as a trusted assistant, was never asked. Because the diplomat, who had gotten out of his seat, threw the squealing girl into a pile and threw her down on his desk. All the documents, writing materials, and some amulets flew to the floor, and the elf pulled up the skirt of her modest white-and-blue dress in no time. At the same time, he kissed her lips demandingly, to which the assistant-servant willingly responded, surprised by the unexpected passion of her master. With one hand the elf unbuckled the belt of his robes, and with the other hand, he tore the lacing of her dress, exposing her breasts, and immediately began to squeeze and knead them.

The assistant, who was quickly aroused by his passion, did not remain in debt, and with one hand she clutched into the hair of her boss, pulling him to her, and with the other she helped him to unbutton the top of his robes. After getting rid of some of the clothes, the elven diplomat jerked into the maid, who moaned in displeasure at such rudeness, and began to move his hips quickly. Without any foreplay or caresses. He doesn't care! He wanted only one thing now, to release the accumulated monstrous tension. Because of that, the release came so quickly, but he didn't care about that now, nor did he care about his partner's pleasure. Collapsing into the girl with her legs wrapped around him and her arms clamped around him, the diplomat moaned and poured into her. Exhaling, the elf collapsed onto his assistant without strength, regaining his breath and savoring the heat of the woman's body. He lay like that for a minute or so while the equally heavy-breathing maid went through his hair. Then, the Senior Emissary got off the flushed assistant, but only to finally rid himself and her of the rest of his clothes. Afterward, he dragged the girl behind him to his desk chair for a second round.

Making himself comfortable, the elf leaned back, and his assistant sat on the floor in front of him between his wide-open legs. He threw one leg over the table and the other on her shoulder. The maid, understanding perfectly well what her master wanted from her, sat down, pushed her disheveled hair behind her back, and put her lips on his cock. Blissfully closing her eyes, the diplomat reached toward the closet without looking, activating the control ring artifact. The doors immediately opened, and an enchanted decanter of cool, thirty-year-old wine moved into the elf's hand. The exquisite drink saved by him for a particularly solemn occasion was consumed straight from the decanter, like the cheapest drink. But the interim Senior Emissary didn't care about that after the tension he had experienced. He took a few greedy sips, wiped his lips with his hand in a vulgar manner, and leaned back in his chair to enjoy the skillful mouth of the maid, whose lips and tongue caressed his cock. Wonderful girl, it was not for nothing that he had spent so many years raising and training her. She was good at work and in bed.

Despite the coitus that had just occurred right on the desk, the diplomat soon poured again, but already into the assistant's mouth, putting his hand on her head and pressing her against him. She swallowed all the semen to the drop, and then licked the cock diligently. The diplomat who was blissfully sitting in the chair exhaled and, with a satisfied smile, handed her a half-empty decanter. Nodding gratefully, the girl took a few sips of the excellent semi-sweet red wine, laced with wild berries. Only then did she allow herself to inquire cautiously:

"I hope your negotiations were successful, sir?"

Opening his eyes, the naked diplomat grinned:

"Quite. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be sitting in front of you now…"

At that instant, his personal communication amulet emitted a pleasant melody from the pile of clothes lying on the floor. Reaching out, the elf reactivated the artifact's control ring, and the amulet rushed into his hand. Clutching it, the diplomat listened silently to the images for a few moments, then grinned contentedly:

"You can congratulate me, my dear, I am now officially the Senior Emissary of the Forest in the Bright Lands."

The faithful maid immediately beamed and cooed in a languid voice:

"In that case, it is time to celebrate, my lord..."

The celebration took the rest of the day, but no one disturbed them until the evening. The new Senior Emissary used his maid a few more times and drained two more carafes of wine. It wasn't every day that you had to be deliberately rude and insolent to the Deity's face while sitting in the main focus of his power. As soon as he heard what he was going to say, he thought he had been set up and was trying to get rid of him. Had it not been for the small altar Damokar had sent, he would have refused to go into these negotiations, even at the cost of his career. Eternity is not worth it. And even with proof of the truth of his words, he didn't decide to do it right away. But in the end, it was a success. And that was worth celebrating. Even if it was so blatantly vulgar, in the company of a humane maid - he didn't care. He would accept official congratulations from his colleagues later. Right now he just wanted to release all the incredible tension and relax. His assistant was willingly helping him with that.

When the Senior Emissary, who had drained three decanters of wine, fell asleep in the arms of his assistant on the sofa in his office, the girl who had been pleasing him smiled contentedly. Slipping out of the arms of the master, who was sleeping peacefully, she quickly, but without fuss, dressed and left his office, closing the doors tightly behind her. It was a good thing she had a security pass as his personal and trusted assistant. Stepping out into the corridor, she headed for her assigned living quarters. She didn't see anyone on the way, which wasn't surprising since it was late at night.

It was only when the door to her room closed behind she exhaled sharply and darted to the small chest under her bed. There she kept her most precious personal belongings. With trembling hands, she opened it and pulled out a small box with a couple of sealed vials of honey-colored liquid. Uncorking them, she drank one of them in a gulp. A pleasant warmth immediately spread through her throat and stomach. The contents of the second, having hastily thrown off all her clothes and laid down on the bed, the girl carefully poured them into her pussy, opening her reddened lower lips wide with her fingers. The honey-colored liquid soaked into the girl's gut.

Smiling contentedly, exhausted by her master's lovemaking, the assistant of the new Senior Emissary lay back on the bed and squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure. A pleasant warmth was spreading more and more in her lower abdomen with each passing second, and she mentally thanked her caring mother for her gifts that she had finally been able to use. Usually, her master was much more scrupulous in love affairs, not forgetting such important things as seed-sterilizing alchemy or birth control amulets. But today, apparently, he'd had a very busy day indeed, and hadn't even remembered about them. For the first time in all the time, she's been serving him. And she wasn't about to miss a chance given by fate! After thanking her mother once more, and whispering a short but sincere prayer to the Giver of Life, the maid ran her palm over her stomach. Soon her master would be in for a surprise.

* * *

"Well, overall, everything still ended with relatively little bloodshed,” Mirael drawled, having listened to the report on the results of the negotiations with the Higher Hierarchs.

"From the point of view of the Emissary Corps,” nodded Third, ”But from the point of view of the Secret Guard, no. We may have avoided the main sharp points, but it was impossible to hide the fact that our agents work in Iyastar. And considering that they had to be evacuated from there in an emergency, their legend can be considered a failure. This means in the future it will be much more difficult for us to send agents to the Bright Lands."

"We'll think about that later," Sivila sighed wearily, "For now we have much more important things to do. What about de Faler?"

And now a semblance of a smile appeared on Third’s face:

"With them, everything turned out very interesting..."

* * *

"It's total FUBAR..."

With this short phrase, Philip le Faler perfectly summarized the situation in which he and his entire family found themselves. When his dear (too dear, as it turned out!) Uncle Dormian left for another trade expedition to the Sun-lovers, he left him in charge. It was not unusual, it was not the first time that the head of the House had appointed Philip as his deputy during his absences, entrusting him with even the most important matters. His nephew (actually a third cousin, but it didn't matter) had been helping his uncle in everything for many years, having proved his competence in trade affairs, having made and successfully conducted more than one and more than two favorable deals for the whole House. And in thirty, maybe forty years, he expected to be the head of the House when Uncle Dormian retired. But now all long-range plans could be put aside, if not thrown into the furnace of the alchemical furnace. For now, he and his House had a much more important and urgent task. Survive!
Дорогой

When the special alarm amulet went off quite suddenly Philip could not believe his eyes at first. But the expensive and blood-bound alarm amulet was categorical: Uncle Dormian was dead. Of course, Philip immediately notified all his relatives of the trouble. Or rather, those relatives who occupied high enough positions in the House hierarchy, and on whose decisions something depended. Almost all of them immediately hurried to Keymark, where their House was headquartered. Some had to pay a lot for the urgent and unscheduled use of the city portals that connected most of the Confederate cities. As the relatives hurried home, Philip thought feverishly about what could have happened to his uncle.

The first and most obvious thought was assassination. Dormian, like any head of a successful trading house, had his enemies. While Philip was speculating about who had gotten to his uncle and how, suddenly, the mansion's control weaves, which controlled all the defenses, came to life. And reconfigured themselves for him. Including those that had previously been under the control of Uncle Dormian alone. Stunned for a moment, Philip quickly realized what had happened and couldn't hold back a satisfied smile. It was hard to imagine a clearer indication of exactly who Uncle Dormian had chosen in advance to be his successor. Some of the cousins and other uncles would be extremely annoyed when they arrived at the ancestral mansion. At that moment, Philip couldn't even imagine how wrong he was.

Because it turned out to be much, much worse than he, or anyone else from House Le Faler, could have even imagined. At first, no one could understand what had happened. Because their representation in Iyastar could not be contacted in any way. And not only that. No one in the capital of the Sun Worshippers was in contact. The representatives of the Guild of Heralds, who specialized in providing long-distance communication services, had also lost all contacts. No one understood anything. Even the priests of the Temple of the Sun-worshipper, which was located in Keymark, could not say anything, and at some point, they closed their doors and locked themselves in. The alerted relatives hurrying to Keymark, and Philip himself were already assuming the worst, like the breakthrough of the Inferno, or a raid by a horde of orcs. And as it turned out, it had better be a demon or green-skinned invasion.

When communication with Iyastar was restored and news began to come from there, at first their family could not believe what they were hearing. It was simply impossible! How could their uncle organize some monstrous magical ritual, mixed with lust and mind control, and even right in the First Temple of the Sun-face?! That's ridiculous! Only the Lords of Inferno, among the lords of succubi and incubi, would be able to do such a thing, and that's not a fact! He couldn't! As it turns out, he could. And he did, forcing everyone in the First Temple to have intercourse with each other like halflings who had drunk on a charm potion. And not just in the First Temple. News from Iyastar came one more cheerful than the other, and all of it was such that it would make the oldest of professions blush. Philip and his relatives, on the other hand, were pale.

When it became clear that what had happened was true the first thought was to run. To run right now. Urgently. Grabbing all the cash, the closest and most trusted servants, someone from the eldest children, and run as far away as possible. To the Caliphate, and then across the southeastern seas to another continent, even to the same lizards in the jungle! The thought came and went. No, there was no point in running. Where would he run, with such a stigma? The servants of the Sun-Face would find him everywhere, and the people around him, recognizing who he was, would give him away at once. There's no point in running. He'll have to find some way to escape this situation. In an effort of will suppress panic Philip gritted his teeth and got down to business. The first thing he did was to put the main estate of his House into siege mode, turning a luxurious mansion in the heart of Keymark into a very difficult-to-attack fortress. The defensive spells and barriers were turned up to maximum capacity, using up energy storage. All those who were not bound to the members of the House by blood oaths and contracts guaranteeing loyalty were immediately put outside the walls surrounding the mansion. And which were already surrounded by both city guards and private detachments. But so far, no one has done anything about it.

All the relatives' communication amulets were getting hot with all the calls. Philip had to force the relatives to ignore them by threat of force, and then he had to take away all the communication amulets. It wasn't enough for any of the panicked relatives to think they were the smartest and do something stupid. One was enough, damn Uncle! With that problem taken care of, Philip headed for Dormian's private quarters. His study and its combined bedroom had been securely sealed by the head of the House before he left. But now Philip had control of all the defenses and security weaves. He was able to get in without difficulty. The first thing he found when he entered the office was a storage crystal lying on the desk, glowing dimly. It contained a message left by his uncle especially for Philip, just in case of his death. And this message confirmed the terrible news from Iyastar.

Finished listening to the images encased in the crystal, Philip exhaled and whispered softly:

"It's total FUBAR..."

For a minute, he stood motionless in the middle of the office, pondering his next steps. This is a disaster. What to do... What to do... What to do... What...

"Sir? Sir, are you okay?"

The voice of his personal bodyguard brought Philip out of his stupor, and he pulled himself together with an effort of will. Turning to the guard, he shook his head:

"No. But that's not important now. Gather everyone in the main hall. All adults. Don't let anyone out of the mansion and don't let anyone in without my permission. Is that clear?"

“Yes, sir,” the bodyguards, bound to Philip by blood pacts as gloomy as he was nodded and hurried to carry out the order.

Half an hour later, most of the house of le Faler had gathered in the main hall. At least, the bulk of it. That was rare since usually about half of the House's adults were always away on business or in the branches of their House. Everyone looked gloomy and depressed. Some of the relatives were openly panicking, but doing so quietly for the time being. Some, like Philip's own mother, were openly sipping on bottles of wine. Or something stronger. Some of the family was in a state of quiet hysteria that was about to turn into a loud one. Among them was Philip's dearly beloved wife, and the sight of her made his mood immediately sour. Very few of them had any semblance of composure. Philip grimaced at the sight of it all cleared his throat and bellowed loudly:

"Silence!"

His voice amplified by the amulet made all the relatives fall silent and pay attention to him. After which Philip immediately got down to business:

"Okay, here's the thing. We don't have a lot of time, but we have a lot of problems. What we've heard is true. Dormian really did what he did. And that's why I want to know. Which of you were aware of his plans? You'd better confess at once because each of you will be questioned on the altar of Damocar and the truth will come out."

Under the stern gaze of Philip and his bodyguards, who occupied all the entrances and exits of the main hall, one of his cousins, looking around in a hunted manner, took a step forward and mumbled:

"I knew Dormian was cooking up some kind of scam with the sun-worshippers... But I didn't know he was up to something like this! I swear it. If I had known... I'd have run to the temple of the Sun-face myself, but I didn't... I thought he was trying to cheat them out of some deal! I swear."

"You stupid idiot!"

With a loud shriek, his wife lunged at the unfortunate cousin, trying to claw at his eyes. Philip's guards immediately twisted both her and her cousin, handcuffing the latter, while the new head of the House of Le Faler bellowed:

"Stop right there! Don't touch him! We need him alive! Who else knew?!"

With a heavy sigh, one of Philip's uncles, who was Dormian's half-brother, stepped forward and said in a heavy voice:

"I didn't know, but I guessed that Dormian was planning something evil in Iyastar. But I couldn't imagine what he was up to. I thought he wanted to bewitch one of the high priests of the sun-worshippers so he could get himself a fat contract that would pay off the ransom of their prisoners and the past expenses of establishing a representative office."

Squinting, Philip asked suspiciously, looking at his relative, around whom an absolute void had formed, and without any magic:

"Where do such suspicions come from, Uncle?"

The darkening uncle held his nephew's gaze and spoke calmly:

"Dormian has made many different deals in his life, Philip. Some were better, some were worse. I've helped him with some deals I'd rather not mention out loud. Some of them were... quite risky. But all of them, every single one, went off without a hitch and made a substantial profit. And some of them, I can tell you for a fact, he couldn't pull them off without a master brainiac. A real master. I have no idea who Dormian did business with or whose services he used, but the results were... impressive. And frighteningly effective."

Sighing heavily once more, the uncle once more spoke gloomily:

"But I never imagined that he would do something like this. I thought maybe he'd bewitch one of the High Hierarchs to make the prices sweeter... But to do such a thing... I couldn't even imagine... And if I did, I'd be the first to run to give him up to the sun-lovers, just like Joren."

"And you wouldn't even try to talk him out of it, to begin with?"

"To have my own brain washed?" Uncle answered a question with a question.

"Yeah..."

Uncle allowed Philip's guards to handcuff himself without resistance and take him to one of the basement rooms.

"Did anyone else know about Dormian's plans?"

Among the adult relatives at the emergency meeting, there were no others who knew anything about Dormian's plans. After making sure of that with the help of Damocar's small altar, Philip ordered everyone to gather in the hall, including the servants and most of the personal guards. Both, his own and those of his relatives. When everyone was assembled, he announced in a grim but firm voice.

"Well, what can I say? We're in deep shit. And it's gonna be very hard for House Le Faler to get out of it. We may not be able to do it at all. But I'm gonna do everything in my power to keep it standing. I will not hold any of you by force. All those who serve the House of Le Falaire and wish to do so, I will close their contracts, deeming them fully fulfilled. You, dear relatives, are well aware of the Confederate Trade Law. Those of you who wish can also leave the House of Le Faler. And thus avoid most of the consequences of what our dear uncle has done. I will not hold anyone by force. But I won't take back any of those who have left if the House of Le Faler stands. So I advise you all to think it over carefully. You have until dawn. After that, you either stay or go forever. That'll be all."

Philip looked once more at the crowd, and then went into his dear uncle's office, damn him! There he spent, locked in, the longest night of his life, never having slept a wink. By dawn, the mansion of the House of De Faler was surrounded by a double tight ring of city guards, mercenary adventurers, and an anti-portal dome. The warriors in glittering gold armor stood out from the rest, taking up positions right in front of the main gate with a standard with the sun and a human figure in the background. A full-fledged temple of the Sun-Face had been opened in Keymark more than twenty years ago. And not without the help of dear Uncle Dormian. And now the influence of his priests in the city was noticeably different from zero. And given the scale of the disaster, it was no surprise that the city council had authorized the deployment of an entire company of Bright Paladins, supported by the Elder Priests. But no one was going to storm the city. Everyone waited. For now, waiting.

"When the first rays of sunlight hit the roof of the mansion, Philip went down to the main hall. All the relatives were gathered there, along with almost all the servants and guards. Among them was Philip's dearest wife, along with all their children, including their eldest son. Many were with their belongings packed. When Philip came down, his wife was the first to approach him with the most determined look and held out a scroll. It was not hard to guess what it was."

"I'm leaving and taking my children with me, as well as my...."

Philip silently took the scroll from her, sat at the desk prepared in the hall, and put his signature in the right place. Then the seal. That was it. Their marriage was now officially dissolved. Without a word, Philip returned the document to his wife, stunned at the simplicity of what had happened. Apparently, she had habitually expected a scandal, reproaches, bargaining for children, and so on. Yeah, something else. She looked at the signed papers for a few seconds, then opened her mouth and said:

"And my..."

"You can get your dowry later when I've settled things with the sun worshippers,” Philip didn't let her get a word in edgewise, ”If I've settled them."

After which he immediately said in a hard voice:

"Next!"

The stunned wife was hastily pushed back by one of his cousins, who was twenty years older than Philip and had considerable influence in their family:

"I have decided to leave the House of Le Faler and move...."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Give me the paperwork, Stefan."

So a little over an hour passed. In that time, the House of Le Faler had legally lost a large part of its representatives. Confederation law allowed such a procedure as the transfer of one spouse to the House of the other, regardless of gender. It was true that such a procedure usually took a considerable amount of time. But not this time. In less than an hour, all those who wished to leave the House of Le Faler had received the consent of its new head. Now, however, Philip's former relatives would have to go through the trouble of being accepted into new Houses, where they would not be welcome. But that was their problem. The fate of rats escaping from a sinking ship was of no concern to him. Following the family, Philip closed the contracts of most of the servants and guards. Including most of his personal bodyguards, whom he not unreasonably considered to be his most trusted people. Also without any delay.

One by one, the people left the besieged mansion. They were met on the way out by the city guards, paladins of Sun-face, and paladins of Damocar. The latter were also in abundance. Right in front of the gates of the manor, they were quickly interrogated on the altar of the Keeper of Oaths. After which, almost all of those who left were released at once. Only some of the relatives were detained for some questions, but in the end, they were released as well. All this Philip was watching through a special amulet, sitting in the almost deserted mansion. The only servants left in the mansion were two elderly couples who had lived here all their lives and had nowhere else to go. Their whole lives were tied to the House of Le Faler. Or maybe they didn't even want to go anywhere, things happen, even loyalty. There were only a dozen and a half of the guards left, mostly elderly veterans who had also served the House all their lives. Only three of Philip's bodyguards remained, a father and his two sons, who were personally loyal to Philip, and apparently believed that he would find a way out.

There were only a dozen relatives, including Philip's elderly mother, who had been carrying bottles of red wine since yesterday. There were also a couple of cousins from side branches. Of the older relatives, there was only one elderly uncle, who, judging by his appearance, had already resigned himself to his fate. And, to Philip's surprise (a pleasant surprise, really), his illegitimate son by one of his concubine maids. Who, by the way, had chosen to leave the sinking ship. Gesturing to the teenager, Philip asked with interest:

"Why didn't you leave, Jasper? You had nothing to fear, did you?"

The teenage boy, who looked much more like a father than children from a legitimate wife, ostentatiously looked around the empty house with a serious look and said in a playfully surprised voice:

"Leave? Now that there is so much room in your house? And I would no longer have to endure the scornful and disgusted looks of your wife and my half-brothers and sisters? And the rest of your relatives who constantly spit on me? You've got to be kidding me, Father. I've wanted them gone my whole life, ever since I was a kid, especially that asshole Damien, who never appreciated what he had! Besides..."

Here the teenager looked him in the eyes with utmost seriousness:

"I have nowhere else to go. So I'll stay with you till the end, Father."

Allowing himself a feeble smile, Philip got to his feet and hugged his son tightly. For the first time, he did it openly, without fear of anyone or anything. Then, putting his hand on the boy's shoulder, he said:

"By my authority, as head of my House, I, Philip le Faler, son of Dyarm le Faler, recognize you, Jasper de Keymark, as my son. Henceforth, you are Jasper le Faler. Wear the name of your House with honor!"

Looking into the eyes of the bewildered boy, who had just turned from a bastard into his father's first heir, Philip added sadly:

"Only first, we have to save the House. And that's going to take a lot of hard work..."

The elderly uncle, who was as tall as Philip's forearm, thanks to his halfling grandmother, asked in a tired voice after a sleepless night:

"Are you saying you have some kind of plan, Philip?"

The new head of House de Faleur turned to him and nodded:

"Yes, Uncle Bert, I have some kind of plan."

* * *

As the last of the wishing party left the besieged mansion, the elderly butler, who had remained loyal to the House he had spent his life serving, stepped out of the gate and stood at attention in front of the besiegers. He bowed respectfully and addressed the commander of the Bright Paladins and the Senior Priest of the Sun, who approached him with a determined look:

"Greetings, honored ones. My master, Philip le Faler, has asked me to invite you to his house to discuss the tragedy that occurred in Sunny City. To which, he asked me to emphasize, Mr. Philip had nothing to do, and of which he knew nothing. If,” the elderly butler waggled his eyebrows meaningfully as he looked at the Damocar paladins, ”Heaven still wants to hear the words of mere mortals."

The priest and the paladin of Sun-Face looked at each other with sunlight in their eyes, and the paladins of Damocar tensed up and their eyes flashed with light. Only it was already a completely white light. After a few seconds of deliberation, they all nodded at once and said:

"We will let your master speak. And we will listen to what he has to say."

The elderly butler bowed impeccably once more and replied:

"In that case, I ask you to follow me, venerable ones…"

* * *

In a spacious office on the third floor of the mansion, specially designed for especially important negotiations, the priests and paladins of Sun-Face and Damokar sat at a wide and long table, on one side. On their sides sat several city councilors of Keyrmark, as well as plenipotentiaries of the most powerful and influential cities of the Confederation, who had arrived urgently by portals. The latter were as observers. Across from them sat Philip, in his finest robes. He was flanked by the eldest of the remaining representatives of House Le Faler, as well as his now officially recognized son. When everyone had taken their seats, Philip nodded politely to the servants of the gods and ostentatiously slowly placed both hands on the small ball-shaped altar of the Guardian of Oaths. It immediately lit up with a cold white light and seemed to freeze to Philip's palms. The sensation was not the most pleasant, but the experienced merchant was not used to it, and he began his speech:

"Greetings, honored guests, in my house. The first thing I would like to tell you is that I had not the slightest idea of the atrocity that the previous head of the House of Le Faler had planned and almost carried out."

The light of Damocar's small altar, made in the form of a stone ball, remained steady, confirming Philip's words, and he continued:

"I deeply regret the grief he brought to the Bright Lands. And for which he has suffered a well-deserved punishment. But as the law of the Confederation of Free Cities states, “The Head of a House is responsible for his House, but the House is not responsible for its Head.” House Le Faler knew nothing of what Dormian had planned. Only two knew that he was up to something evil, and they were the ones we had already handed over to the honorable servants of the Sun-Face. But even they did not know what Dormian was up to. So what he did was his own decision, and his own fault, not that of the House."

The Senior Priest of the Sun sitting opposite Philip, raised his open palm sharply, interrupting the new head of House Le Faler. The light in his eyes grew brighter. It literally reeked of heat. Opening his mouth, the priest spoke in a voice that was not his own, a voice of great power. Great power and barely restrained anger:

"I have no desire to hear you spinning like a serpent in a frying pan to avoid paying for what your predecessor did, merchant. And laws written by peddlers for peddlers will not save you! Your predecessor, in whose veins flowed the same blood that flows in you, committed an unthinkable sacrilege! He responded to a good deed with a despicable deed! He betrayed my trust and the law of hospitality! He has trespassed against my flesh and blood! Trespassed against me!"

The priest's voice grew louder, and the heat coming from him was much more tangible.

"You and the rest of your kin may not have known what your leader was up to, merchant, but the atrocity he has committed in the heart of the First Temple demands atonement! If you,” said the priest with glowing eyes to the city councilors and representatives of the other cities, ”decide otherwise, then know this! No merchant from the Free Cities will set foot in the Bright Lands unless the Eternal Sun shines over his city. And no ship or caravan from the Bright Lands will come to any of the Free Cities where the Eternal Sun does not shine. That is my word, and that is my will! There will be no other."

The priest's eyes flashed with fire, and then the light in them grew fainter, as did the heat from them. The faces of all the representatives of the Free Cities and the Keymark councilors who looked at him and Philip became very grim. There was no doubt that no one would agree to a trade blockade by the Light Lands for the sake of one trading house that was so delinquent. Not even the most powerful and wealthy one. Well, he'd been waiting for this. Without letting go of the small altar of the Oath Keeper, Philip nodded slowly and answered in a calm voice:

"I have heard the word and will of your lord, honorable ones, and I accept it. And in that case, I suppose we should move on to more specific matters of compensation for Dormian's atrocity?"

The tension in the office, which had previously hung in the air, suddenly eased. After that, very long and very unpleasant for Philip negotiations began....

* * *

The guests left the main mansion of the House of Le Faler as night fell on the city. When the gates closed behind them, Philip put his house back into siege mode and leaned back in his chair closing his eyes tiredly. His uncle, who had been sitting beside him throughout the negotiations, collapsed face down on the table with his arms folded and moaned:

"This is the end... We are completely broke... If we give and sell everything we have, we can pay off these sun-lovers, and even some crumbs will remain... But how to pay the current loans and credits? What are we going to do business on? Nobody will give us a postponement now, nobody will give us new loans, and tomorrow we will have a queue of those who want to collect debts...."

Alas, his uncle was right. The sun-worshippers hadn't been idle for the past twenty-four hours, either, and had prepared well, learning everything they could about the House of Le Faler. Philip wouldn't have been surprised to learn that their trading partners and competitors had helped them in this endeavor by surrendering all of the House's assets, even those that weren't publicized, to the sun-worshippers. In the end, the amount of compensation demanded by the sun-lovers was only slightly less than the total assets of the House. As Uncle had rightly pointed out, if he sold all of his assets and shares in joint ventures with other trading houses, he would be able to make up the amount. But there were still current loans and credits to be paid. In theory, one could try to borrow more money and invest in a risky but profitable trading expedition, like a trek around the southern continent to the lands beyond the southeastern seas. Such a venture would pay for itself. But such expeditions last at least a year and a half and are very dangerous. And Philip doubted very much that under the present circumstances, anyone would give them money for such an adventure, or a deferment of payments. He had no intention of doing any such thing, however. When he opened his eyes, Philip looked at his bored relative, grinned wryly, and patted him on the shoulders:

"It's not evening yet, Uncle! Go to bed. And you, Jasper, go to bed too. You can take Damian's quarters. You've done well today, well done. And the morning, as you know, is the wiser than night."

Uncle looked at Philip with bewilderment and asked:

"What do you mean?"

"I told you I have a plan. But we'll talk about that tomorrow."

* * *

Leaving his relatives puzzled, Philip headed for Dormian's office, accompanied by the three remaining loyal bodyguards. He would have to double their salaries. No, triple! It would even be symbolic. But then, when and if we can get away with it. As he walked up the stairs, he asked the older man without turning around:

"Did you do what I asked?"

"Yes, sir."

"Uh, good. Then, as soon as our guests arrive, show them to my new office. But be very careful not to let anyone know they're here. The mansion must be under surveillance."

"I count five different observer groups, sir. But we'll do our best."

"I'm counting on you."

After dismissing the guards and entering Dormian's former office, Philip carefully closed the doors and made his way to his uncle's bedroom, which was his workplace. There he went to the wall farthest from the entrance and touched a decorative element on the tall bronze floor lamp. Immediately, part of the wall rippled like the surface of the water, and an inconspicuous door appeared in its place. Behind it was a small room, barely big enough for even one person. Or an elf. For a few seconds, Philip stared at the elf sitting motionless on the narrow bed. The beautiful face was completely devoid of emotion and expression but skillfully painted with obviously high-quality and expensive elven cosmetics. The dark hair, however, was a bit short for Philip's taste. Such hairstyles were usually worn by adventurous magicians. Otherwise, she was quite attractive. Although her breasts were a little small, which was clearly visible, thanks to the typical black and white dress of a maid. Only made of very expensive fabrics and with too short skirt, which barely reached the middle of her thighs and allowed him to fully appreciate the long slender legs in stockings. Oh, uncle...

"Stand up."

Dormian's pointy-eared toy obediently rose to its feet and froze in front of Philip, still staring at nothing with its gray eyes. Cute, to say the least. But her tits are a little small, you could have made them bigger for your toy. Hmm... Philip ran his hand along the thigh of the submissive living doll, penetrating her skirt with the palm of his hand. Maybe once her... What the hell! Finding a man's scrotum and penis instead of a woman's cunt, Philip jerked his hand away and almost jumped back. His eyes widened and he stared for a few seconds at the elfess who turned out to be an elf. Fuck you, uncle! he never would have thought of it...

Philip stepped back and looked at the elf dressed in a woman's dress and makeup. A very handsome elf... Shaking his head, Philip cursed quietly and left his uncle's secret room, silently cursing the deceased. When he returned to his study, he sat at his desk and began to sort through Dormian's papers and documents to pass the time while he waited. It took a couple of hours. When it was already late at night, there was a knock on the office door. Philip unlocked the door with the help of his artifact ring and said:

"Come in."

Four men came inside. Three blurry figures in gray cloaks, and the eldest of Philip's three personal bodyguards. Standing up, the new head of House Le Faler nodded to the late guests and pointed to the three comfortable chairs in front of his desk:

"Please, honorable ones, have a seat. Thank you for responding so quickly."

The guests took the offered seats without removing their disguises. The senior of Philip's bodyguards closed the doors and stayed outside. When the protection of the office was activated, the guest sitting in the center of the room spoke in a voice distorted by a special amulet:

"We have received your message, Philip le Faleur. And we hope that you really have something to tell us and something to offer us."

A sincere smile touched the merchant's lips for the first time. It wasn't kind, though:

"Oh, you can be sure of that. And first of all, let's agree that we won't need the help of the Oath Keeper. He makes this kind of negotiation much easier, but I don't want him to know what we're discussing. In the end, there are other ways to assure the magic of a contract and confirm the truth of words."

The senior was silent for a few seconds, then nodded faintly:

"This is acceptable."

"Excellent. In that case, let's get down to business. Although no! First, I ask you to accept a modest gift from me as a gesture of goodwill and proof of the purity of my intentions. But I will say right away: it was not I who dressed him up like that, all claims are against my late uncle."

Under the gaze of the guests, whose figures were still blurry, Philip snapped his fingers, and an elf entered the office from the bedroom, still dressed in a maid's dress and wearing makeup. The guests looked at him for a few seconds, then the eldest of them turned to Philip and said:

"Control keys?"

He placed a small glowing crystal on the table in front of him:

"Here is all the information you need. In this state, he is controlled by voice. Before leaving, Uncle transferred him to the mode of a weak-willed doll."

Philip moved the crystal towards the guests and made a gesture with his hand:

"Please. As I said, consider this also a gesture of goodwill."

One of the guests carefully took the crystal and put it in a special case-container. The senior asked:

"You invited us to return a relative kidnapped by your predecessor?"

Leaning back in his late uncle's chair, Philip allowed himself another smile and shook his head:

"Of course not. As I said, this is just a gesture of goodwill. I invited you to make you a trade offer."

"Is that so? And what do you want to offer us, Philippe de Faleur?"

"One of the most expensive and valuable goods. Information. I have serious reasons to believe that you are interested in a certain Master with whom my uncle did business. And who was directly responsible for turning your kind... into this," Philip pointed his hand at the motionless elf in a maid's dress.

Silence fell in the office. The guests exchanged glances, after which the senior of them said:

"We are listening to you very carefully, Philip de Faleur."

"I'm sure you do. So let's get down to business at last. My uncle didn't trust this Master, nor the rest of his associates, at all. Which was very sensible of him. Therefore, he tried to ensure himself in every possible way in case of his “sudden” death or a radical change of life priorities. How do I know about that? From him. Dormian left a message for me, just in case. And not just any message."

Philip folded his hands in front of him, looked carefully at the guests, and said:

"My suggestion is my uncle's archive, where he collected everything he knew about this Master and his other accomplices, as well as about their joint affairs. Including in the Forest."

The guests sitting in front of him were silent for a few seconds, after which the senior slowly said:

"This is an interesting proposal. But why did you propose it to us and not to those same sun worshipers?"

"I had considered that option, too. But these sun-lovers,” Philip's face grew angry and hard, ”chose not to negotiate with me, but to twist my arms and take everything from me and my House. Even though the House is not responsible for what Dormian did. And yet they've decided to ruin House De Faler, to destroy it. So I've decided to make an offer to you. Now, do you have a word, honorable ones?"

There was silence again for a few seconds, and Philip was willing to bet everything he had that his guests were conferring with their superiors right now. Despite the office's security was supposed to prevent that.

"The Forest is interested in your offer, Philip de Faleur. What do you want for the ENTIRE Dormian archive?"

Smiling contentedly, Philip simply replied:

"First of all, of course, money."

"How much?"

The guests were taken aback for a moment upon hearing the amount. Then the senior said slowly:

"This is a lot…"

Of course. But the thing is, there's a line of vultures lined up at my door tomorrow, hungry for what's left of my flesh. As it happens the only commodity that can save my House from ruin is the information my uncle has gathered on his associates. But that merchandise is going bad fast. Right now, as we speak, this Master may well be covering his tracks. I believe the honorable Lord Leonar d de Ferran would attest to that.

Hearing this name, the guests tensed up.

"But!" Philip made a meaningful pause, "I am ready to negotiate, and I agree to discuss various payment options. Creations of elven masters are valued everywhere, and they are valued highly. As well as the possibility of direct trade with the Forest at, say, minimal duties."

After a few moments of silence, the senior of them answered:

"The Forest agrees to a deal with you, Philip le Faleur. Let's discuss the details."

The merchant's lips stretched into a wide smile:

"Wonderful..."

* * *

"What is this?"

The question his uncle had asked was a question that all the relatives, who had been invited into his office since morning by Philip, who had hardly slept at all that night, wanted to ask. Even his mother was sobering up, almost dropping another bottle of wine from her hands. The cousins' jaws were slack and they couldn't say a word. Philip, who was sitting in a chair with his feet on the table, answered as if nothing had happened, pointing to two large chests of expensive lacquered dark wood:

"One hundred and eighty thousand full-weight silver Dirachs. Sixty thousand full-weight silver Thalers. Sixty thousand full-weight silver Crowns. One hundred and fifty thousand full-weight Orens. Also in silver. And fifty thousand silver Florins."

The relatives, mouths open, stared at the open chests, where shiny coins stood in even columns, separated by special partitions. Half a million silver coins, albeit of different mintages. The most valuable of them were, of course, elven florens, as the highest quality and heaviest. A huge fortune, even by the standards of large trading Houses. For such money, one could easily equip several good, large trading ships, and not by renting them, but by buying them. Satisfied with the effect he had produced, Philip decided to finish off his kin and showed them a scroll of beautiful stamped paper:

"And this is a trade agreement, according to which the House of De Faleur receives, for three years from this day, priority rights to purchase and subsequently sell on the territory of the Confederation all alchemical reagents mined or grown in the Forest..."

* * *

"For how long?!"

"For three years."

Groaning, Sivila pressed her temples with her hands. The Supreme Treasurer would be delighted. Maybe she should matchmake one of her granddaughters with him after all? Shaking her head in resignation, the queen asked in a tired voice:

"Please tell me it was worth it?"

Third, who understood perfectly well what the queen was thinking, nodded reservedly and replied:

"Completely."

At his command, a couple of agents placed a small rectangular box on the table, in which four small but very high-quality crystals lay in special niches. All of them were glowing with a dim white light. Pointing at them, the head of the Secret Guard said:

"Philip kept his word and indeed handed over a considerable amount of documents, as well as storage crystals with Dormian's memories. He also promised that if he found any more messages from his late uncle, he would inform us immediately. My agents are analyzing them right now. There's a lot of information, and we have to be very careful with it. Given who we're dealing with, I wouldn't be surprised if there are traps among the memories, designed to confuse the mind of the viewer. So what have we learned?"

Taking one of the crystals, Third carefully placed it on a special metal artifact stand. At the same moment, a three-dimensional image of Dormian appeared above the table. Only the merchant on it looked noticeably younger and was somewhat slimmer. Next to him stood another young-looking and handsome young man, wearing expensive clothes that had been the fashion of the Free Cities about half a century ago, if Sivila remembered correctly. Third's next words confirmed her assumption.

"Dormian had been involved with Master a little over half a century ago. They met through the now-deceased Lord Leonard de Ferran, who had just then become one of Westmark's city councilors, inheriting the position from his retired father. Here we see their first meeting. At first, the two men's relationship was purely business, and the merchant was not even aware of Master. Business as usual. Dormian supplied the Lord with various goods, mostly grain, wine, and cloth. Lord Leonard paid well, and Dormian delivered his orders on time and in quantity. Everyone was happy."

The image changed, and Dormian and Leonard moved into a richly furnished study. Both men were seated at a table, with glasses of wine. The merchant's face was quite pensive. The reason for his thoughtfulness was the small chest filled with gold that stood open on the table in front of him.

"Having convinced himself of Dormian's reliability as a trading partner, Lord Leonard made him an interesting offer: to engage in the supply of goods much more profitable than wine, fabrics or grain, but also much more dubious."

"Let me guess. Slaves?"

"Including. But not right away. It started with relatively harmless smuggling, like magically active materials and alchemical reagents. Of course, it all went past the magic guilds or alchemists' guilds. Dormian handled everything in-house, mostly through his connections in the Night Guilds."

The image changed again. This time, Dormian was sitting at a desk in a much less ornate office, and it was in semi-darkness. Across from him sat a man of decent age, with gray but thick hair. He was well dressed, but modestly and discreetly. His wrinkled face showed traces of quality healed scars. Between them on the table were several silver purses and a small box full of shining blue powder.

"But gradually the goods became more and more dangerous and less and less legal, including slaves from among free people and non-humans kidnapped by Slavers."

The image changed again. This time, Dormian was examining a naked woman in some dark basement, wearing a magical collar and shackle bracelets. Judging by her smooth white skin, long, well-groomed hair, and alchemically enhanced tits, the woman was not a simple peasant woman. And so it turned out.

"Lord Leonard was not interested in the urban poor, with very few exceptions. He wanted gifted, skillful craftsmen or warriors first and foremost. Both men and women, with the latter being favored. The goods were, of course, one-of-a-kind, but therefore more expensive. The risks were growing, but so were the profits Dormian was making."

The image changed again, back to Lord Leonard's richly furnished study. In addition to the owner and guest, there were also a pair of pretty maids, one of human and the other of feline best folk, in partially beastly form. Both wore black and white maid's dresses, only sewn in such a way as to leave the girls' breasts exposed.

At some point, Dormian began to guess that Lord Leonard was working with an underground brainiac. Since some of the alchemical reagents he ordered were used by the masters of the Classical School of Mind Magic. In addition, it was Dormian who had obtained this particular pair of girls for Lord Leonard through his acquaintances in the Caliphate. Both were not at all happy about the slave collars and were far from submissive.

"But by that time, he was already tied too tightly and would not have been able to jump off," concluded Sivila.

"Bingo. Only he wasn't going to. He was happy with the profits that came from his trade with Leonard. When he realized what he was really dealing with, Dormian was definitely not interested in where the goods he supplied went. Only business relations of which no outsider was aware. Later, Dormian assumed that this was all part of the test, too, and that if he didn't pass it Master would arrange for his sudden death very quickly. Personally, he had met Master after he had been given a very non-trivial order. Alchemical reagents from the Underworld. Or rather, they first asked him if he could get them."

The image changed again, the maids disappeared, but instead, a trio of women in closed, dark robes appeared. They looked like the Secret Guard, the Dungeon Hunters, or the assassins of the Unseen Clan. The figures were clearly female, but their faces were not visible.

"Dormian figured that, in theory, he could get what he ordered. He had connections with one of the Dark Elf Houses which owned a hidden exit to the surface, through which he smuggled trade with the Earthlings. But he honestly said at once that there was a very high risk of being set up by our dark kin. It's one thing to supply exotic food from the surface, wine or wood. It's another thing to buy very expensive and valuable alchemical reagents. Therefore, Dormian asked for a very large advance payment, emphasizing this risk. And, as it turned out, he was quite justified in it."

"And what did our Master order?"

"Black Roses of the Underцщкдв and Blue Stars of the Stone Heavens."

“Seriously,” Sivila assessed the order.

Though the queen was not a great expert in artifacting or alchemy, but these names were familiar to her. The former were very rare and very beautiful flowers, almost impossible to cultivate. They grew, as the name made clear, only in the Underworld, and required large amounts of pure water saturated with natural magic. But these flowers were valued not for their beauty, but for their poison, produced by their thorns and serving as the basis for a whole host of alchemical compositions that affected the mind in one way or another, depending on the dosage and processing. The second were rare natural crystals, as it is easy to guess from the name given to them by the dark elves, of blue color. These crystals were a great material for magical artifacts, serving as excellent storages or concentrators. And also, if properly processed, the weaves embedded in them were very difficult to detect. These crystals were formed only on the ceilings of underground halls with high temperatures and powerful sources of natural magic.

"Indeed, the order was unusual and quite serious. So Dormian's request was quite reasonable. Then Lord Leonard made him a counteroffer. In exchange for a multiple reduction in price, he offered him a guarantee that his partners would not cheat Dormian and the deal would be closed successfully. Moreover, he hinted that if the deal was successful, his partners could become extremely trustworthy and could be dealt with with much less risk. Obviously, Dormian was very interested, and he agreed."

"Let me guess. Master gave him his puppets?" Sivila suggested, pointing to a trio of women in dark robes.

"Exactly."

The image changed again. The small room, which appeared to be just a rough-hewn side cave of an underground hall, was dimly lit by a pair of magical lamps. On opposite sides of the roughly chipped table stood Dormian, in simple marching clothes, and a dark elf woman. The latter wore tight clothes of dark leather, favorably emphasizing a slender figure and high large breasts, with long white hair gathered in a tight ponytail, a haughty face, and ruby eyes. A pair of long and curved daggers hung from her belt. She looked at the merchant and the silver on the table in front of him as if it were a pittance. Behind her stood a pair of blurred kin, covered in camouflage and dark cloaks. Behind Dormian stood a foursome of guards, armor-clad, battle staffs at the ready, protective amulets, and extremely tense faces.

"In the end, as Dormian had suspected, our dark brothers and sisters did indeed plan to rob and kill him, writing it all off to the dangers of the Underworld, where it was notoriously easy to disappear without a trace. And then pretend afterward that they knew nothing, and that nothing had happened at all. But he found out about it after Master's puppets intervened."

The image changed slightly. The dark elves suddenly found themselves lying on the floor of the cave. Behind them appeared female figures in dark robes. And not only three elves, with whom the merchant was negotiating, were on the floor, but also a couple more, who had appeared behind the backs of his guards.

"Dormian didn't even have time to realize anything, just suddenly, the dark elves twitched and collapsed to the floor, senseless. Then Master's puppets appeared out of nowhere and reported that the ambush had been neutralized and there was no danger."

"I suppose he was impressed?"

"More than enough. His close guards, though small, were well-equipped, experienced, and alert, but they didn't notice anything until the last moment. At that moment he was frightened and wanted to leave with the reagents and the elves as a trophy. But to his surprise, the Master's puppets who had saved him would not let him. They told Dormian that there was no need for such a thing and that they would still need our dark kin. They took them to a separate room, where one of the puppets spent almost twenty-four hours with them. During this time Dormian and his men were nervous, and only fear of their saviors kept them from running away. But the result was more than worth it."

The picture changed again. The dark elf, completely naked, was riding one of Dormian's guards, who was lying on the floor of the cave, a pair of hiking cloaks underneath him. Reaching forward with both hands, the man roughly groped the dark one's tits, squeezing them like melons at a market. The elf's face was still as contemptuously haughty as ever. How she managed to maintain it while sucking another of Dormian's guards, who had her long hair wrapped around his fist and was forcing his cock down her throat, was a mystery. Two more of the merchant's guards, who stood at her sides, were being actively fucked by the dark elf, clenching their cocks in their fists. Her subordinates, also completely naked, were lined up along the wall with blank faces, staring at nothing.

The picture changed again, and now the elf stood bent over and with her legs spread wide, sucking another merchant's guard, who was sitting without pants on the table, holding her head with both hands, directing and controlling her movements. His buddy, straddling the dark one's thighs, was actively fucking her from the back, moving his pelvis sharply. Her breasts and chin were already flooded with saliva and semen. It was dripping down the dark one's thighs, dripping onto the stone floor of the cave. Her face was still as haughty and resentful as ever.

In the next picture, the same elf was sitting at the table with her bare feet on it, talking quietly to Dormian. She paid no attention to her lack of clothes, her face, breasts, and cunt stained with semen as if it were a matter of course and should be. The merchant's guards resting on the sidelines could barely contain their laughter at the sight of her. The Dark One, who appeared to be the Senior of the entire squad of Hunters overseeing the smuggling of her House, was telling Dormian in a casual voice that she planned to kill and rob him if she thought she could get her hands on the loot. And, most importantly, if the landsman proved foolish enough to show up with all the gold for the deal.

“Strangely, Dormian himself didn’t fuck her,” said Sivila, looking at the dark elfess, “Or did he prefer to hide these memories?”

"Not at all."

In response to the queen's questioning look, Third grinned crookedly and changed the picture. In the back room of the main cave, one of the hunters was kneeling in the back of the cave, diligently pleasuring the merchant with his mouth. A rather handsome hunter with a rather handsome face. Knowing the dark kin, Sivila wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that he was the Senior's personal pet. Third confirmed her guess almost immediately.

" As it turned out, Dormian preferred men in bed, but he was careful not to announce it. We'd suspected it after the demoness, and now it was confirmed when Philip le Faler handed us the missing Senior Emissary."

With a gesture of his hand, Third lit another next to the image of Dormian copulating with the dark elf. For a few seconds, Sivila and the others stared at Arendal, dressed in a woman's maid's dress and makeup. Then the queen sighed softly and asked:

"What condition is he in?"

"For now, he's in a state of a limp doll, but unlike Tiantrel, his mind is intact, so there's hope for recovery. But we'll deal with that later. Right now, we have more important things to do."

Turning back to Dormian, who had already managed to bend the dark elf over, Third continued:

"Because of his preferences, it was easy for him to let his men have fun with the Senior, and he chose as his entertainment her favorite, whom she had recommended to him. After Dormian and his men had had their fun, they closed the deal as if nothing had happened. The Dark Ones handed over the reagents they'd ordered, got their gold, cleaned up, and left, genuinely convinced that the Grounders were too dangerous. And therefore worthy of some semblance of respect. So it was better to make peace with them. And they could do business with them in the future. Dormian had done business with the Senior several times since that incident, much to the delight of his closest assistants, whom she had satisfied every time."

"It's risky,” Sivila said thoughtfully, ”to leave such bookmarks in the mind of a dark one. They're always under scrutiny, and there's a risk that someone else's influence will be discovered. Besides, one of his men was bound to blab about such a great bedding feat."

"Not this time. As far as we can tell, the dark elves never discovered Master's influence on their kin. That, by the way, would have to be utilized soon. As for the merchant's guards, on his return to Westmark, Dormian, impressed to the core, asked Leonard to have his “partner” process his men as well. Just so they wouldn't talk too much or better, yet, forget about what they'd seen. Except for a couple of the most trusted, from whom he took powerful blood oaths, binding them to him. He didn't want to trust all his men, especially his guards, to an unknown brainiac. It was then that Leonard introduced Dormian to Master."

The picture changed again. Lord Leonard's office again, only now there was another person there besides the owner and the guest. A rather young man in modest but quality clothes, with short dark hair, slicked back and a refined aristocratic face. For a few seconds, Sivila scrutinized him closely. And she wasn't the only one.

"Of course, there was no guarantee that this was Master's real face and not an illusion or makeup. But in the future, his appearance did not change, and that was how Dormian saw him every time they met."

"Any coincidences?"

"There are no reliable ones yet," Third shook his head, "but we continue to search. Several similar gifted people have come into our field of vision, but they are guaranteed not to fit."

"He didn't give his name to Dormian, I presume?"

"No, he'd always introduced himself as just Master. Leonard had praised him at their first meeting as an indispensable specialist in dealing with delicate matters. And Dormian soon came to appreciate the validity of that statement. Over the next decades, their cooperation grew, but it remained solely in the framework of business relations. With the help and support of Master, he managed to conduct more than one successful transaction. But at the same time, the House of Le Faler remained within the framework of a successful, but not outstanding trading house. This was one of the prerequisites of Lord Leonard and Master. The latter categorically did not want to draw attention to himself, and Dormian was sympathetic to this. Though the merchant noted that over the years Master's demands had become more and more serious, in terms of magical reagents and materials, he put it down to the growing skill of the brainiac. All that had changed nineteen years ago."

"When Magdalena the Bright, the beloved Holy Virgin of the sun-worshippers, was born," Sivila guessed.

"Exactly. Upon learning of her birth, Master proposed an incredibly bold and ambitious plan to Lord Leonard and Dormian. To take control of an entire God and, through him, all the Bright Lands. To say that Dormian was astonished would be an understatement. But Master at the meeting managed to convince his associates that what he had planned was quite realistic. If he struck at the right place at the right time. It was very risky and required serious preparation, but it was doable."

"I guess they didn't have a chance to refuse?"

"Dormian supposed he didn't. At least, he didn't. He suspected that Lord Leonard had long been a puppet of Master. The merchant feared the same thing and had become quite adept at mind-protecting methods in his life as well as at defending himself. Still, he feared Master and his puppets. So he agreed, and they set to work. They had plenty of time but also had a lot of work to do. Dormian was primarily responsible for the material part, getting the necessary resources or materials. Some of it went to Master. And some of it as bribes or gifts to the right people. A fully submissive elven slave girl was a very exotic gift."

“Well, of course,” the queen sighed wearily, “is there any information as to who they gave or sold our kin to?”

"Dormian knew the fates of a few, but he didn't know who had gotten most of our kin. They were handled first by Master and then by Lord Leonard's men. Among other things, it was Dormian's job to get a foothold in Iyastar. And he had done it perfectly, having managed to open a representative office in the capital of the Sun-Face and establishing good relations with his servants. And that was not the only thing he accomplished."

The image above the table changed again. Now Dormian was sitting at a table in another office, and opposite him sat an elf in the white and blue robes of a diplomat. Senior Emissary Arendal. And behind him stood one of Master's puppets in dark robes.

"It was Dormian who helped “proceed” Arendal. As head of his House, he met with the Senior Emissary without suspicion during his visits to Iyastar. Exclusively business conversations. And during one of these conversations, Arendal was captured by Master's puppets. We could not understand how they managed to process our kin, because such a procedure should take a long time. As it turned out, “processing” could be done piece by piece, gradually adding new elements. Having got Arendal in their hands, they got a valuable source of information and a huge resource. The Senior Emissary knew a lot of things, including secret information. He also had influence in the city and considerable resources. And it all fell into the hands of Master and his associates. It was from Arendal that they learned of our plan to infiltrate Tiantrel under the guise of Tairel.

"And when she arrived in Iyastar, they were already waiting for her?" Sivila suggested.

"As it turned out, no,” Third grinned, ”She was more interesting than that. She was kidnapped by Vinatir, who was being used by Master and his accomplices in the dark. He had kidnapped Tiantrel by accident and had almost signed his death warrant. Master and his accomplices had specific plans for Tiantrel, which Vinatir almost ruined by his arbitrariness."

“And how did she end up in his hands?” frowned Sivila.

A shadow ran across Third's face, and he made another gesture with his hand, lighting another image above the table. In a forest clearing, with a blindfold over his eyes and a gag in his mouth, was a young man kneeling in the garb of a human servant. His hands were tied behind his back and his pants were down to his knees. Behind him, also kneeling, was an elven woman with azure eyes and silver hair. With one hand she clutched the boy's cock, with the other she hugged his chest, pressing him to her, and rhythmically moved her hips, tearing the helpless young man with the help of the lady's savior, fixed on her with leather straps. At the sight of this picture, Sivila could hardly keep from smashing her face with her palm.

"Seriously?"

"Alas. As it turned out, Tiantrel had a peculiar secret hobby: raping handsome young men among the human servants. Given her professional skills, it was easy for her to track down a liked servant, kidnap him or drag him to a secluded place, and then rape him with a lady's savior. And then put the poor man to sleep and disappear, leaving him to come to himself with a sore ass. And just as she was dragging another boy into the woods, Vinatir's men happened to come upon her. They had infiltrated the Forest to renew the supplies in their stashes and had discovered Tiantrel by accident. And, needless to say, they didn't want to miss the opportunity. This was on top of the fact she was just about to leave for Iyastar, so no one paid any attention to her disappearance."

The Queen barely managed to restrain herself from cursing. And she was angry at a couple of underage idiots from the Forest Guard...

"Afterwards, it was delivered to Vinatir, and the latter, satisfied, handed Tiantrel over to Master for processing. According to Dormian's recollection, he was furious, but Vinatir was saved by Lord Leonard's trusted aide, who acted as their liaison. Or, as they nicknamed him, the Curator. In the end, it was decided to leave Tiantrel in Vinatir's hands for the time being, as they still needed him. Which, in the end, was a great stroke of luck for us."

“It really is a great stroke of luck,” the queen sighed wearily.

“It’s strange,” Mirael said thoughtfully.

"What exactly?" Sivila turned to the Elder Enchantress.

"I wonder why Master didn't process all his accomplices, turning them into reliable puppets, in order to avoid such blunders?"

"You'll laugh, but once Dormian asked him that question directly,” answered Third, ”Master laughed and told him that such drastic measures were unnecessary and would cause more trouble than good. Processing a puppet so that it can act on its own and not according to pre-made templates is quite difficult, and it is too time-consuming and troublesome to process everyone in this way. Besides, according to Master, both Dormian and Lord Leonard were quite public people and regularly cross-checked their minds for outside influences. Which inevitably carries the risk of exposure."

"I would rather believe that he didn’t have the resources to “proceed” everyone he wanted,” Mirael shook her head in disbelief.

"Dormian decided so too but didn't show it then," nodded Third, "Partly in favor of this theory is the fact that each "processing" cost a considerable amount and required rare reagents. On average, three times more expensive than the usual processing by Classical Mind Magic."

"How it went, I suppose Dormian wasn't aware of it?" Ziandar suggested.

"Of course not. Master never told his associates about the intricacies of his work. Dormian personally preferred to be satisfied with the results of his work without even trying to learn about the process. Although he also talks about it in his memoirs, at some point he became suspicious of the Master's skills and knowledge. But he put it down to the fact that he was dealing with a very intelligent gifted person. At least, that's what he convinced himself."

Sighing tiredly, the queen leaned back in her chair and asked, interrupting the discussions:

"Am I right in understanding that Dormian didn't know who Master really was and where he came from?"

After a moment of silence, Third shook his head:

"No, he had a guess. But he didn't really know. Not where he came from, nor where he'd been educated. And his guesses, alas, were wrong. Master was almost certainly not a renegade magician from Neirat Academy."

"Excellent. And for this, we paid almost half a million in silver and an unfavorable contract?"

"For this, as well as information about all of Dormian's contacts, reagents Master needed and in what quantities. Also information about those who have been treated by Master over the years and are now Sleepers. The information about Naydir of House Sheonar alone is worth a lot of money."

"Okay, let's say it was worth it."

Taking a deep breath, Sivila looked into the eyes of the Head of the Secret Guard and asked directly:

"Then please tell me that you found any answers in his lab?"

Third, having withstood the queen’s gaze, calmly replied:

We found quite a bit in the laboratory that was hiding beneath Baron Mortimer de Ferran's estate. Unfortunately, no less than Master's puppet was destroyed while covering his escape. What's left, however, we have to work with extreme caution, given whose laboratory it was. And perhaps, the most interesting part is who we found in there.

To the surprised looks of the queen and some of the crowd, Third rose and spoke:

"Follow me, please."

* * *

In a very spacious polygon room run by the Secret Guard, in the center of the ritual circle was a snow-white stone bed, above which a naked body hovered, surrounded by a complex magical figure shining in the air. Judging by the huge slab of stone on which it stood, it had been moved from Master's laboratory right along with a chunk of the floor. For several minutes, the Queen and the magic masters gathered around him and gazed at the body floating in the air. The body was that of an ordinary young man, with short, light blond hair. Stubby, with stubby white fingers, clearly unaccustomed to hard labor. The complexly composed magical figure surrounding him, analytical in nature as far as Sivila could understand, also highlighted his subtle body. Judging by them, the man was gifted, but extremely weak, with completely undeveloped energy channels. The Elder Enchantress standing next to the Queen furrowed her brow and turned to Third:

"Am I missing something, or is this just an ordinary hooman, albeit a gifted one?"

The head of the Secret Guard, who was looking at the body floating in the air with a strange gaze, briefly shook his head and replied:

"No, you read that right, it's quite common hooman. This raises a logical question. He was found in a separate and very well-insulated room, protected as if it were a treasure trove. Just like this. I believe the honorable masters of magic can explain better than I can."

One of the gifted agents of the Secret Guard nodded briefly and began his report:

"When we found him, in addition to this figure, there was a full projection of the subtle bodies above him. Not just a projection, but a lot of markings. But as soon as we stepped inside the room where he was kept it all disappeared. All that was left was this magical figure. As far as we can understand, this bed and symbols are intended for the deepest analysis of subtle bodies. There are some confusing aspects, though. This symbol here..."

Taking a short magic wand from his belt, the agent pointed to one of the elements of the complex magic symbol surrounding the young man floating in the air. A thin beam shot out from the top of the wand, illuminating it.

"...is unknown, and has not been identified by any of my colleagues. Just like this one. And this symbol too..."

"It's like it's pointing into the void,” Mirael said to her colleague, who was scrutinizing the figure floating in the air.

"Exactly. Or rather, it's clearly targeting the subtle bodies of this hooman, but there's no point of application."

"It's amazing,” Ziandar said, scratching his chin thoughtfully, ”It's the first time I've seen something like this. Hmm... What if the point of application requires a certain amount of subtle body activity? Minimal impact..."

"Stop!!!"

The synchronized shout of nearly a dozen magic masters was a fraction of an instant late. Ziandar, like countless of his gifted colleagues, immediately tried to test the idea. All gifted scientists were disliked by their peers for their hobbies, which sometimes led to unfortunate consequences. The master of the School of Branding did not do anything special, just injected into the body of the hooman a little bit of energy, which was supposed to pass a wave through his energy channels and energy nodes. One of the simplest techniques, which is one of the first to be mastered by future healer-mages, is designed to fix damaged areas of subtle bodies. Completely harmless in most cases. But not in this case. As soon as Ziandar's energy stimulated the hooman' subtle bodies, the symbol around him glowed brightly, simultaneously illuminating something in the hovering man's subtle body. The elves froze motionless, only the Master of the School of Branding had time to speak softly:

"Ups..."

In the next instant, the symbol around the hooman flashed with a blinding light. Sivila had no time to realize or do anything. Suddenly, without warning, despite all her defenses, the queen was restrained by an unknown force. So much so that she couldn't say a word or move, even her thoughts seemed to be paralyzed. Then came the sensation of a gaze. Or rather, a GAZE. Something looked at Sivila, and it felt as if that gaze was penetrating into the very essence of the queen, into the very depths of her soul. Evaluating. Calculating. Determining. And then, the words-meanings-imprinted themselves in her mind:

OBJECT ANALYSIS…

CALCULATION OF AVAILABLE CLASSES…

CALCULATION OF AVAILABLE CHARACTERISTICS…

CALCULATION OF EXISTING SKILLS…

EVALUATION OF THE DEEDS COMMITTED…

A huge, gigantic, unimaginable amount of knowledge opened up in front of Sivila. And with it came a sense of incomprehensible power, ready to flow into her right now; all she had to do was give it will, direction, and shape. But just as suddenly, everything was cut off, and her consciousness was like being pelted with ice water.

ERROR!

USER LIMIT EXCEEDED!

ERROR!

ACCESS NOT AUTHORIZED!

CONNECTION BRE...

The power that had shackled the queen vanished as if it had never existed, as did the boundless array of knowledge. Sivila exhaled and sank to the floor. Almost all of her kin collapsed beside her. Only a few stayed on their feet, including Astra, who immediately rushed to her mistress. But after the first step, she stumbled and fell beside Sivila. The heavy-breathing queen said in a hoarse voice:

"What... the heck... just happened?"

* * *

Rest in the prepared comfortable shelter and a whole session of restorative and relaxing massages from faithful Saya did their work. Master spent the whole twenty-four hours in such a state as if he had burned out all the subtle bodies by a monstrous overstrain. Moments of consciousness were replaced by forgetfulness, which turned into a deep dreamless sleep. But the next morning after his hasty escape from the laboratory, he woke up in perfect condition. There was no trace of yesterday's terrible weakness, pain, and malaise. It was as if nothing had happened at all. Except for one thing. A small BUT! With a satisfied smile, Master cautiously climbed out of the warm embrace of the faithful and obedient Saya and got to his feet.

The failure of a plan so long prepared and almost realized to subjugate the Bright Lands. The loss of so carefully and painstakingly built laboratory. All of this had been relegated to the second, even the third plan. Now all Master's attention was focused on something else. On the words-symbols-knowledge imprinted directly in his consciousness.

THE ADMINISTRATION THANKS YOU FOR YOUR WORK IN IDENTIFYING SYSTEM VULNERABILITIES.

WE SUCCESSFULLY ELIMINATED THE POSSIBILITIES OF UNAUTHORIZED CONNECTION AND ACCESS TO THE SYSTEM DATA YOU IDENTIFIED.

AS A THANK YOU FOR YOUR WORK, THE ADMINISTRATION HAS APPROVED YOUR ACCESS TO THE SYSTEM, INCLUDING EXTENDED FUNCTIONALITY AND ADDITIONAL OPTIONS FOR SELECTING CLASSES.

For several minutes, Master stood motionless, rereading the words of the unknown language imprinted in his mind, which were, nevertheless, very clear. At last. AT LAST! After so many decades, this greatest power was finally, truly HIS! No longer would one need numerous crutches to simply touch this power! No longer would one have to constantly resort to the creation of unknown great masters, capable of taking away and storing memories with the same ease as a gifted apprentice lighting candles. It is truly a masterpiece of artifacting as well as the greatest power was given to a lowlife completely undeserving of such generosity. Thanks to this artifact, he could retain at least crumbs of the knowledge granted by this power in moments of contact with it!

Now, it's his! Which meant no more messing with this lowlife who had received these great gifts at the whim of the gods. The real gods, not the local upstarts! And nearly ruined them at the root, if it weren't for providence directing this idiot right into his hands. Now this power is really HIS! And he was rewarded with even more than that insignificant fool. Oh, how he had waited for this...

Master stopped in front of the tall mirror, gazing into his reflection. His lips stretched into a satisfied smile. And then his appearance began to change as if he were a werewolf-doppelganger. The length of his hair and its color, his eyes, his height, and his build. For a moment, he looked like a Northerner from the Ice Islands, blond-haired and blue-eyed. A moment and his appearance became typical of the black-haired and dark-eyed natives of the Caliphate. Hmmm... What if... An effort of will, and the appearance changed dramatically again. Master squinted his eyes and said thoughtfully:

"This is going to be quite fun..."
* * *

Author's Note:

Uffffff.... 36 pages. Isn't that like a record? Or was the 2nd interlude the same length? I can't remember...

Not the point! So, my little mini-pwp fanfic about elven women with specific sexual preferences and goblins has come to a finale. What I want to say is.

First, and most importantly. A huge thank you to everyone who has been reading, commenting, asking questions, liking, and waiting for the update. Without you, I doubt this story would have turned into what it did.

Second. As it's not hard to guess, this is not the end of the story. There will be a second part but later, for now, I want to distract myself with other work, here's a pure pwp (who am I kidding)....

Three. The actual ending of the story. As some have speculated, there really was an ISEKAI in this story, and with a SYSTEM and a very cool artifact. Kilchet, cliche, cliche! Except that with this potential EDGELORD happened what was feared by the main character of Avada's work "Lust and Magic", who also got the SYSTEM in a non-system world.

Namely, the future Lord of the World and Supreme OVERLORD of all and everything (in his dreams) was caught by a smart local. Who, having realized what he got in his hands, was stunned, or rather SHOCKED, exhaled and firmly said to himself: I WANT IT! After that, he started to work.

The result of which was that our dear Master's labors were appreciated and he finally managed to fully connect to the System of the captured Isekai. He also received some perks for his efforts.

That's it.

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Переведено на Нотабеноиде
http://notabenoid.org/book/86674/577537

Переводчики: Camrad_RIP