Готовый перевод История Королевы Эльфов / The story of the Elf Queen: Глава девятая. Неожиданное приобретение Героя Королевы Эльфов

Chapter Nine. The Unexpected Acquisition of the Hero of the Elf Queen

* * *

Sivila stretched out and picked up a silver goblet on a special stand on the edge of the desk. It was decorated with filigree engravings and bore a number of enchantments designed to detect impurities in its contents. And the list of substances embedded in the enchantments was very, very extensive. Not only various poisons but also their components, which can very gradually accumulate in the victim's body to work at the most unexpected moment. Until recently, Sivila had never feared poisons, but the complex alchemy of love or mental alchemy was a threat. Nearly four thousand years of experience with her kin, particularly with her dear female relatives, was a factor. Gradiana was no doubt already preparing to retaliate for the fact that she would soon be the grandmother of the three half-breeds her son had made for the queen's maids.

But after the events of the last few months, Sivila had radically revised her approach to personal security. Now she took it as seriously and strictly as possible and demanded the same from her retinue. Until the issue with Master is resolved, it is impossible to speak not only about complete, but even about the usual security. In particular, the Queen has thoroughly renewed the defenses of her chambers and her personal protection and strengthened them considerably. Including adding something of her own. After her personal communication with Master, she was convinced by her own bitter experience that when it came to him, relying on others, even the best specialists, was not the wisest decision.

The mere memory of the cursed enchanted thread made Sivila's nipples tense and tingle involuntarily. Covering her eyes, the queen exhaled slowly and willed herself to suppress the unwanted excitement. Damn. Son. Of a bitch. Nothing, she would thank him again for that sweet prank. She had patience enough. Taking a sip of water from a silver goblet enchanted to keep the contents cold, among other things, Sivila went back to work. Despite the relatively early morning, the queen had been on her feet for quite some time, having sorted out most of the current correspondence and moving on to other matters. Specifically, to sorting through the numerous reports that came in each day and related to two people. Or rather, one person, the other still not a hundred percent guaranteed.

Master and Cirial. There was still no news on the former, despite the ongoing search. Or rather, there was no specific news. But there was something they did understand. An incredibly extensive search involving the best clairvoyants, soothsayers, and fortune-tellers not only of the Forest but of the younger races as well, had failed to find any trace of the Master, let alone determine his exact location. But a number of circumstantial indications suggested that he was still in the region of the Middle Sea. Most likely in its northern part, if one compared the results of the search vectors of the lizards, the Southerners, and the inhabitants of the lands to the east, from the Steppe to the gifted of the Eastern Empire.

But it couldn't be ruled out that he might be even further north. There were plenty of places to hide in the territories of the Fallen Kingdoms of the North. And since the hunt had begun, there had been more than one or two reports of suspicious activity from the inhabitants of the ruined cities there. The ones that had long been a bit unlive since the days of the Great Horde and its no less Great Crusade to the West. It had been a hard time if not a terrible one.

Usually, the undead, both the higher and the lower representatives, preferred to sit in their ruins and not go far from them. And that suited everyone just fine. The dead and their lords only caused trouble for the desperate adventurers who decided to try their luck in search of the legendary treasures of the Fallen Kingdoms. And the few tribes of beastmen, humans, and green-skinned people of varying degrees of savagery and barbarism that inhabited those inhospitable lands. There were exceptions, of course, but they were exceptions. High vampires, lichs, or other intelligent undead were quite good at organizing crypts, lairs, or even full-fledged underground palaces. It was not easy to smoke them out.

But after the announcement of the hunt for Master, several scouts of the Forest reported the use of spatial magic in several ruins of the largest cities. But it was impossible to know where the dead inhabitants of the north had placed the portals. The undead were very good at keeping their secrets. There were also several reports from informant agents that there were indirect signs of activity of higher vampires in several Free Cities at once. Only circumstantial so far, it could be illegal necromancers or equally illegal practitioners of Blood Magic. But you can't spot an old bloodsucker that easily. Truly intelligent and experienced creatures could hide very well among the living, sometimes living side by side for centuries. Especially, if they patronized them or cooperated with them.

There were many questions and very few answers. But the Queen had hope that this would change in the coming days. The work with the captured artifacts of Master was slow, because of the extreme caution. But it was progressing. And the cast of his magical gift was almost ready. It was not a full-fledged cast of subtle bodies, but for a magical search, a good specialist would have enough of such a sample. And Forest didn't bring in good experts. It's brought in the best! And as soon as the final preparations are made, the search will be very different. Wherever Master's holed up, they'll find him. Or at least locate him with regional precision. She wishes she knew what the Sun-worshippers have come up with to find him, but they're keeping silent. Those fanatics would love to get even with Master themselves.

Putting aside the skimpy report of the new Emissary of the Forest in the Northern Theocracy, Sivila switched to another report. A much more detailed one. After reading it carefully, the queen leaned back in her chair and drummed her fingers thoughtfully on the armrest. The training of the otherworlder had been underway for a little less than a month. And in that time, with the help of the power given to him, he had mastered knowledge and abilities that would have taken several years of hard study for ordinary gifted ones. And that's with talent and a lot of hard work. But the otherworlder has mastered more than just the bare knowledge and skills. If we compare the casts of his subtle bodies at the moment of finding him, at the moment of acquiring his first gifts and now, the difference is even more noticeable. From a mediocre gifted weakling with a barely budding gift, he turned first into a full-fledged adept with almost perfectly developed subtle bodies. And by the time he reached the tenth step, his power had grown even stronger. And he had only just begun his training.

Even if the analysts' predictions came true, and after reaching a certain stage, the rate of ascent would drop sharply, the pace was still frightening. And if one were to believe the archives of the past millennia, one's observations, and inquiries directly from the otherworlder, the power bestowed upon him had not even been fully revealed yet. If you look at what he was offered at the first steps, and what he was offered after reaching the tenth step... Analysts' predictions were quite alarming. And there was no clear limit to his development.....

Which means we need to keep a tight rein on this kid. So we don't get another Raistar the Apostate. And not just on the pulse. So far there are no problems with that, the boy is completely satisfied with his current situation. The living and housing conditions are incredibly comfortable by his standards. In his home world, he lived in conditions far worse. The only thing that has caused his displeasure so far is the intensity of training, but this problem Diantrel managed to suppress in its infancy. Otherwise, the boy was happy with everything, especially after a little intervention from the Secret Guard, pushing him into the arms of the agents assigned to him.

It would certainly be interesting to see if his child would inherit the gift of the Soul Tablet but that was something that should be put on hold for now. The thing that should not be delayed is Master's problem. It needs to be solved as soon as possible. Because this boy has obtained the Soul Tablet and has begun his ascent from the very first step. What powers are already available to Master analysts is still hard to predict. But even the predictions they do make agree on one thing. You can't give him time. Every day plays into his hands. We need to find him, but that's easier said than done. So much trouble... In the name of the First Tree!

Sivila could barely keep from cursing out loud. The artifact mirror on the table emitted a shrill trill, indicating an urgent summons. Third. With a single mental effort, Sivila activated the mirror and a moment later saw the reflection of the Head of the Secret Guard in it. Without any greeting at all, he threw a brief words:

"We have a problem."

And before the queen could ask anything, the reflection of Third was replaced by the reflection of the training room assigned to work with the otherworldly boy. For two long seconds, Sivila stared at the kneeling Cirialle, holding Diantrel's leg by the ankle with both hands. So that her foot was practically right next to his face, which had an utterly stupid and blank expression. He was completely motionless, indicating the use of a protection and stasis spell. His mouth was open and his tongue was sticking out, so it wasn't hard to guess what the boy was going to do. Diantrel, on the other hand, was standing on one leg in a slightly ridiculous pose because of this. The mentor was dressed in nothing but a swimsuit. Beside them stood a trio of cover agents always around during training sessions. Exhaling sharply and feeling her blood boil, Sivila slowly, minting each word, muttered:

"What The. Heck."

"We're checking it out. Everyone involved with the Guest has been alerted and is being checked."

"Accepted,” Silvila nodded, ”And what are we going to do with him?"

Instead of Third, she was suddenly answered by First, who had inexplicably joined their conversation.

"We proceed in this way..."

* * *

Taking the short magical analyzer wand away from the neck of the stasis-imprisoned “Guest”, one of the Secret Guard agents said in a grim voice, voicing the results of the scan:

"Blood has residual traces of love alchemy, medium potency, amnesia-stimulating effect."

His colleague checking the kneeling man with magical vision, added in an even voice:

"Confirm. The face also shows the residual traces of love alchemy."

Diantrel still standing on one leg was also looking at her apprentice with her eyes glowing because of her magical vision. She was also gently probing his subtle body with her energy.

"I see several traces of mental or love magic in the subtle bodies. The effects are minimal... Negative, not minimal, but well hidden and erased. Executed... Relatively recently..."

"Less than twenty-four hours ago,” the second Secret Guard agent supplemented her sharply.

His third colleague, standing a little to the side, with a communication amulet in his hand, having listened to his superiors' question, asked the elfess seriously:

"How was his training yesterday? And why wasn't there a report on it?"

Raising her eyebrows, Diantrel said perplexed:

"Yesterday Cirial didn't have any classes, he was given the day off...."

As the white-haired elf woman spoke her face took on an increasingly strange expression and her speech slowed down. The Secret Guard agents exchanged glances, and the atmosphere in the training room somehow became tense at once. The one holding the communication amulet slowly spoke:

"There were no days off for “The Guest”. According to the schedule, he was supposed to have a training session. You agreed to it the day before."

Diantrel blinked a few times and opened her mouth. Then, the white-haired elf twitched briefly, let out a low growl, and clutched her temples with both hands. The Secret Guard agents who were watching her tensed up. The one holding the binding amulet waved his colleagues briefly, ordering them to do nothing. The elf was physically motionless for almost a minute, but waves of her energy, accelerated and intensified, rolled through her thin body, making her literally glow and blaze in her magical vision. And the main direction of the flow went through her head. Then Diantrel opened her eyes sharply and growled:

"Insidious bitch! Alatrael! She did it! She met me yesterday morning on my way to training..."

Before Diantrel had even finished speaking, the agent holding the communication amulet received new orders, and the rest of the Secret Guard became even more active.

* * *

"What the hell?"

Twilight, barely containing his fury, stared at the three-dimensional images from the Guest's quarters projected above the desk in the Secret Guard office assigned to the surveillance and cover team. In one of them, Cirialle was licking the leg of an elven woman in an elegant blue dress sitting in a chair. In another, he was kneeling in front of the dining table, licking passionately between the legs of his white-haired maid, holding her by the hips with his hands. The human girl moaned as she threw her legs over his shoulders and crossed them behind his back. With one hand she fondled her breasts, with the other she clutched at the “Guest's” hair, pressing his face even harder into her bosom. Next to her on the table lay the catgirl, with her dress also pulled up and her breasts poking out. She was breathing heavily with her tongue out and her yellow eyes staring unseeingly at the ceiling. A string of saliva mixed with love juices dripped from her pussy.

The agents from the duty cover group, whose duties included continuous surveillance of the “Guest”, standing in front of Twilight, looked at their superior in bewilderment. The head of this group, sensing that something bad had happened, slowly and warily said:

"What do you mean, Twilight?"

"What do I mean?! What in the name of the First Tree is this?!"

The team leader, glancing over to his wary subordinates, replied even more warily:

"A practical session on the fundamentals of mental safety...."

"WHAT?!"

The growl from Twilight didn't make the agents move, but the ears of some of them twitched:

"What kind of mental safety training?! Are you out of your mind!? There was a clear order to not use influences above the first level! And even those are to be used only by agreement!"

The agents of the cover team tensed sharply after these words and quickly glanced at each other, then the senior one said in a slow and tense voice:

"But you reported yesterday it was decided to give the “Guest” a practical lesson in mental safety with a demonstration of the consequences of its neglect..."

"What?!"

Opening his mouth, Darendil froze at half a word. The colleagues accompanying him and the Cirial cover team on duty became even more alert and tense, staring intently at Twilight. The latter, dazed, stood motionless for a few moments. Then he very slowly raised his hands and said in a stony voice:

"Sunset..."

In one fluid motion, two of his subordinates, suddenly close to him, took Darendil's hands firmly under their arms. The staff mentalist of his task force came up behind him and pressed his palms against his boss's temples. Closing their eyes, they stood like that for about a minute, and then they both opened their eyes at the same time and chorused in angry voices:

"Alatrael..."

* * *

"May I ask, honorable ones, what's going on?"

The elven woman sitting at the desk of her office was outwardly calm. Her voice expressed only mild bewilderment. Inwardly, though, she was far from calm. And how can you be calm when you are sitting calmly at your desk, doing your work routine, and suddenly several Secret Guard operatives appear out of nowhere in the middle of your office? The experienced seductress was very familiar with the Third's department due to the specifics of her profession, regularly helping the elven knights of cloak and dagger, sometimes by word and sometimes by deed. And not only them but also the Emissary Corps, who also needed her services regularly. So a visit from the Secret Guard was not strange or out of the ordinary. But this sudden intrusion was a serious cause for concern.

As well as the fact that at the same time as the agents appeared in the middle of the office immediately taking Alatrel in the crosshairs of magic wands someone's hands fell on her shoulders from the back holding her in the chair. In a split second, enchanted bracelets were placed on each of her wrists suppressing magic and preventing her from forming weaves. At the same time, she felt several cross fields of suppressing and blocking magic covering her and the whole office. But centuries of experience are centuries of experience, so outwardly Alatrel was perfectly calm, holding the standard elven equanimity. The senior of the detention team (and Alatrel had no doubt it) reported briefly through the communication amulet:

"Clear."

Then he turned to the seductress sitting in his chair and said:

"Who ordered you to seduce the half-elf Cirial and for what purpose?"

Before she could open her mouth, Alatrel felt something cold pressed against her temples from both sides, and the seductress felt the familiar effects of mental magic designed to suppress the ability to lie. Uh-oh, it seemed the cute half-blood boy was proving to be even more challenging than she'd anticipated. A mistake, no excuse, not even to herself. Well, judging by what was going on, the mistake was approaching him in the first place. However, she saw no reason to lie or play games, nor did she have the opportunity to. Shrugging as much as the hands of the agents holding her back allowed, the elfess answered honestly:

"The honorable Gradiana assumed that this charming young half-blood was the illegitimate son of someone in the Queen's party. Considering how much money was spent on his upkeep, it had to be someone in Sivila's inner circle. This means he could be used to... thank the Queen for her... incredible generosity towards the youngest of Gradiana's sons, the honorable Gilraen. So she asked me to pay... close attention to him."

For a few seconds, there was silence in Alatrelle's office. A very tense silence. The Secret Guard agents who had swaddled the elf briefly glanced at each other, exchanged mental messages, then the senior member of the group standing in front of Alatrel's desk said tensely, staring intently at the seductress:

"The honorable Gradiana gave you no such instruction and has nothing to do with it. We have already verified that."

Uh-oh. Alatrel stared into her kin's eyes for a second, puzzled, trying to comprehend what she had heard. It was not working well for her, just didn't fit in her head. Frowning, Alatrel said tensely and slowly:

"What do you mean..."

She didn't have time to finish her sentence as one of the Secret Guard agents standing behind her shouted sharply:

"The necklace!"

At the same time, he snatched the silver necklace with precious stones from the elf's neck and threw it on the table. At the same second, Alatrel twitched convulsively, her eyes rolled back, and she convulsed. The jewelry's gems flashed brightly. But he was immediately surrounded by a magical barrier of suppression and isolation, and a series of orders and commands rang out in the office.

"Suppression field, quick! It's active!"

"Already! Quickly, follow where the control weaving goes!"

"Hold Alatrel, she's recovering from the break with the control artifact! Urgent cleansing and stabilization! Sunset!"

"I'm working! So... Damn it, she was under tight control, she needs to be taken to the healers' chambers as soon as possible!"

"Accepted, take action... Alarm!!!"

* * *

One of the rooms in the Secret Guard's building, intended for magical practices, had been turned into an operational headquarters for the search for Master. Nearly a dozen gifted agents along with their assistants were continuously monitoring volumetric projections of the various areas where an active magical search was currently underway. In addition to these projections, a huge volumetric map of the entire western part of the inhabited oikumene was projected over a huge desk that could fit fifty elves, covering the Middle Sea region, the Southern Continent, the territories of the Fallen Kingdoms of the North, and the eastern borderlands.

On each projection there were dozens, and on the global one even hundreds of marks with explanations. There were especially many of them near large cities, although there were also markings in places considered wild and deserted. The silence of the room was diluted only by the occasional quiet reports of the agents monitoring the search:

"The search in the Intermountain is unsuccessful....."

"Checks of the Morgrave area revealed no traces..."

"Ignore the signal on the southwestern border of the Caliphate, it was a wandering anomaly from the Great Desert…"

But suddenly the general silence was interrupted by a sharp shout from one of the agents:

"There is a positive response!"

The room was instantly incredibly bustling with activity, commands, and reports followed one after another.

"Determine the exact location! Raise the mobile squad!"

"There is recognition! The response is very powerful! The coincidence is more than ninety percent! It's him!"

"Coordinates, quickly! Mobile squad, first readiness! Contact me with Third, quickly!"

"We're calling, he's busy!"

"What do they have there... Get a place, quickly, before we lose it!"

"Right now! Got it. Direction finding complete, coordinates... What the... ALARM!!!"

* * *

"Cirial! Cirial!"

"What? What the..."

His mentor's sharp voice brought the young man out of his stupor. For a few seconds, he stared at Diantrel's face, which was surprisingly close to his own. Almost close, so that he could smell the scent of forest herbs and flowers coming from her. Then the elf's violet eyes flashed with magical fire, and Cyril felt as if he'd been electrocuted. He felt a wave of his mentor's energy from his head to the tips of his fingers and toes.

His head became clearer. The drowsiness and confusion that had appeared out of nowhere disappeared. The stimulated subtle bodies energized the physical body as well, stirring the blood. Cyril tried to shake his head, but it failed. Diantrel held his head with two palms, forcing him to look into his eyes. When she was sure that Cyril was awake, the mentor said in a harsh and demanding voice that did not tolerate any objections:

"Listen to me carefully, Cirial! You were drugged yesterday!"

"What... what do you mean..."

"You have been bewitched using Mind Magic! But the effect was not firmly fixed. It can be overcome by the afterburner of thin bodies. We have been through this, you know this technique and what to do! Maximum intensity and speed of flow. Direction of movement through the upper head section, and discharge through the lower leg contour. I will guide and support you. Do you understand me?"

Cyril understood his mentor, but he didn't know what the hell was going on. So he just nodded briefly and closed his eyes, starting to gradually accelerate his inner energies as Diantrel had said. He had indeed practiced this technique several times with his mentor. He didn't need more than that, thanks to the “advanced basics of managing and controlling internal energies” granted by the System. Afterburner pumping of the reserve through the energy channels was quite an effective method to get rid of foreign energy in his subtle bodies. All sorts of curses and other nasties that could affect a gifted person. It was also partially suitable for cleansing the body of extraneous alchemy, although it was more difficult.

However, this technique had one significant disadvantage. This technique was similar to flushing a clog with water under increased pressure. This meant, in turn, that the energy used for such cleansing had to be dumped outside. That is, literally sacrifice your reserve, draining it, in fact, to nowhere, to get rid of negative influences. Effective, yes, but very costly. However, for Cyril, it was not a problem. So, having concentrated properly, he began to chase his reserve along the contour indicated by his mentor. Through his head then downward, draining through his legs. For a few seconds nothing happened, but then Cyril felt faint, barely perceptible, admixtures of foreign energy in his energy flow.

"All right, go on! Cirial, try to remember what you did yesterday. How was your day? Focus on that!"

"I... I..., I guess nothing..."

Cyril honestly tried to fulfill his mentor's order, but it suddenly turned out it was not so easy. His mind was surprisingly empty. It seemed that he was doing something even, but what? And with whom... With the mentor... No, not with her... It was so difficult...

"That's it! Do you feel it? Keep pushing, keep pushing! This area here, there's rubbing, can you feel it? Come on, Cirial, you can do it! A little more!

And Cyril, supported and guided by his mentor, honestly tried as much as he could to increase the running of his reserve through the head areas of subtle bodies. Especially through the one, Diantrel pointed out to him with her energy. And in which he now clearly felt an embedding of another's magic. It was very faint and imperceptible, very soft, and if he didn't look for it, he wouldn't even notice it. His head was beginning to ache from the strain, but Cyril could feel the alien magic gradually washing out of him. And the more it was washed out, the more clearly he remembered yesterday. And then, as if a dam had burst, the events of the past day came crashing down on him.

A beautiful elf woman with azure eyes. A lesson on mental safety that started in the training room and then continued in his chambers. And it ended with... Fucking motherfucker! Cyril shouted it out loud and almost interrupted the afterburner mode of energy pumping, but his mentor held him back. Otherwise, such a sharp braking could cause damage to the subtle bodies. Not severe, but unpleasant. Having stopped the process smoothly, Cyril, breathing heavily and feeling his temples aching, wheezed:

"That... That bitch fucked me! She said we were gonna have a mental safety lesson! And then she bewitched me! And then, uh..."

"Cirial!"

Diantrel's sharp voice made him falter half-heartedly. The mentor, still dressed in her swim suit, continued resolutely:

"Agents of the Secret Guard are already dealing with the incident. On behalf of myself and the Forest, I promise you that a thorough investigation will be carried out and that the most serious measures will be taken. Also, on behalf of the Forest, I officially apologize to you for this incident...."

Cyril didn't have time to finish listening to his mentor, as several system messages suddenly appeared in his consciousness.

Attention! Level 15 has been reached!

Attention! A new ability “Share the Chosen One's Burden” has been obtained

Overview: Being the chosen one of Aurial the Magnificent, the Supreme Guardian of the Balance of Worlds, who stands guard over the Balance of Forces, is a difficult and heavy burden. Even the strongest of Heroes cannot bear such a burden alone. But a hero does not have to bear it alone, he can share this burden with others.

The active ability “Share the Chosen One's Burden” allows the Player to bond with a chosen sentient. The resulting bond gives the sentient limited access to the System, allows the Player to influence its status, and gains additional mutual effects, including hidden ones. More detailed information will be available after the first activation of the ability.

The degree of access to the System, the power of the Player's influence on the status of the sentient, and additional effects, including hidden ones, depend on the level of connection between the Player and the selected sentient. To be able to activate the ability, the Player must already have a formed connection with the selected sentient of at least level 1.

In case of the death of a sentient being sharing his burden with the Chosen One, the latter will be penalized, depending on the level of connection and the chosen mutual effects. Choose carefully who you want to be your companion on the difficult path of the Chosen One of Aurial the Magnificent, the Supreme Guardian of the Balance of Worlds, who stands guard over the Balance of Forces.

Available number of activations: 1 (recharge 1 standard month).

Available number of companions: 1

A list of possible companions with the minimum level of communication to activate...

"Cirial, can you hear me? Cirial!"

His mentor's voice brought the young man back to reality. He looked at Diantrel, who was watching him anxiously.

"I'm sorry, I was reading. I was given a level 15 for getting rid of this charm, and...."

Cyril didn't have time to finish. With a quiet ‘zing’, the chain on which his gold medallion, issued by the elves, was hanging broke, and the expensive artifact fell to the floor. The young man looked down perplexed and was about to pick it up before he noticed the sudden change in Diantrel's face. He was surprised to see a dark stain quickly spreading across the left side of his chest. What...

It was as if time had slowed down. For an infinitely long second Cyril stared at the dark spot, trying to comprehend what he had seen and combine it with the usual picture of the world. It didn't work, though he honestly tried. And then his legs suddenly and without any warning became cotton wool and went under. Cyril would have collapsed on his back if someone had not picked him up at the last moment. The ceiling of the training room flashed before his eyes, and then Diantrel's twisted face appeared, with eyes burning violet fire. The white-haired elf was saying something, maybe shouting something, but not a single sound came out of her open mouth. There was only silence, squeezing at Cyril from all sides.

And the cold spread from his chest all over his body. The cold was spreading rapidly through both his physical and subtle bodies, freezing them completely. Cyril tried to stop it, channeling his own power to suppress it, but the reserve left after burning out the other's magic was desperately insufficient to do so. The cold was too strong, the power Cyril had would not be enough even if he were full! The rings! With a desperate effort, feeling panic overwhelm him more and more, Cyril reached for the artifact storage, which held about one of his full reserves each. Why didn't he fill them all up?!

The warmth from the rings that flowed into his body for a few seconds stopped the cold from spreading, which had already consumed most of his body and was coming to his head, which was beginning to rumble more and more. But that wasn't enough either, not at all! Through the veil of panic, Cyril saw his mentor's eyes flash with natural magic flames, and Diantrel swung her right hand sharply. She, too, was enveloped in magical flames, and then the elven woman swiftly struck the young man in the chest with the palm of her hand as if it were a spear. Exactly in the center of the dark spot, piercing his chest with an unpleasant but juicy crunch.

Cyril tried to twitch, blood splattered on his mentor's face and clothes, but someone or something held him down, preventing him from moving. The horror and the terrible pain in his chest made him gasp, unable to scream. It was a terrible pain, Cyril literally felt how several ribs broke from the blow. But at the same time, he felt hot fingers squeezing his heart. A heart that had stopped beating the moment the cold appeared. And that warmth dispelled the chill in his chest a little. For several long moments, Cyril stared in horror at the face, as he first thought, of the elf who had killed him. So beautiful and so terrible at the same time, twisted with anger and fear. So...

"Cirial! Hold on!"

Diantrel's shriek cut through the silence that choked the young man. And in the next instant, the cold that was devouring his body took another step back, giving way not only to the pain but also to the warmth that was trying to warm Cyril's body again. The warmth poured into his chest from Diantrel's hand. Right into the heart she was clutching...

"Faster, I can't hold him, the damage is too great! Where are the healers?! Cirial, hold on! Look at me!"

As he gulped for air, the young man felt the coldness start to rise in his chest again, trying to suppress the warmth flowing into it and to stop the heart, which the elf literally forced to beat by hand and did not let it stop again. There were more voices nearby, someone yelling something, demanding something, but Cyril suddenly realized very clearly. They won't make it. They can't. The mentor's powers wouldn't be enough. The attack he had received was too well prepared and calibrated precisely for him. Perfectly calibrated. He'd be dead by now if it weren't for all the defenses the elves had surrounded him with. But even that had failed, giving him an extra second of life. Damn Master... I don't want to... It's not fair... Help, someone... Someone... Someone... He can't do it alone... Alone... ALONE!!!!!

His consciousness, extinguished by the cold that, despite Diantrel's best efforts, had consumed almost his entire body, seemed to be struck by a lightning bolt of insight. With a mental effort, Cyril hit the nonexistent button with his non-existent fist, activating the gifted ability. In the same second, a wave of hot water swept over his body, washing away some of the cold. And then the consciousness was swallowed by darkness, and Cyril fell into oblivion. He didn't see Diantrel collapsing on top of him, eyes goggling and mouth open in a mute scream. Nor did he see the dark stain on the left side of the elf's chest, staining the swimsuit she'd not changed out of.

* * *

With a wicked smile, Master sent a short mental command and set aside the self-made communication amulet. Another small effort, and it turned to ashes, burning almost completely. Just as several more of the same very high-quality communication amulets were burned, forming a long chain that led directly to the Royal Palace of the Elves. And that was it. The deed was done, and one problem less. It was a shame that he had to sacrifice the last remaining puppets in the Forest because of this boy. It had cost so much work to prepare. He has such plans for them in the future. But because of those damned pointy-eared bastards, everything went wrong, and they had to be spent on a trivial and disgusting liquidation!

But now the queen and other ears would be able to experience how unpleasant it was to have long and carefully made plans ruined overnight. Master did not doubt for a second that the elves had made a mountain of such plans around the useless boy. And now, what a shame, they ruined. But now he would have to speed up too, because the elves would not take such a slap. He could literally feel the tightening of the cord around his throat, and if it wasn't for the artifact mirror he had bought, they would have been on his trail long ago.

But he had no problem with that now, thank good fortune that had smiled upon him in the form of the lovely Lady Edelhart. Brushing away the weightless crumbs of ash from the destroyed communication amulet, Master turned to the small artifact mirror on the Dowager Baroness de Kleban's desk. It reflected the commanding face of a woman in her thirties, with luxuriant dark red hair, though, in reality, Violetta de Edelhart was nearly two and a half times older.

Master was not personally acquainted with her, but he knew her well in absentia. She was not the last representative of a noble aristocratic family from the northern shore of the Middle Sea. She could afford the best rejuvenating alchemy and professional masters of healing magic. And not only that. Violetta could afford many things that other aristocrats could only dream of. She was gifted, even if she had no talent for magic, and had received a brilliant education at the Neurath Academy, thanks to her father's patronage, connections, and money. Returning to her native Normgrave, she married favorably to a younger relative of Duke Darmond.

And, if the rumors were to be believed, and there was no reason not to believe them, Violetta had quickly put her husband under her thumb, becoming the de facto head of the family. Whether it was her business acumen or mental magic mixed with charms, Master did not know yet. But he would find out later. In any case, instead of having children one after another, Violetta had only two offspring, after which she devoted herself to the affairs of the Adventurers' Guild. Her family had very close ties with the Guild, especially the Normgrave branch. The Edelharts directly patronized some high-class adventurer squads that had very long-standing and extensive contractual obligations. These squads specialized in guarding military and trade expeditions. One on sea, one on land. But they were also, on occasion, the Edelharts' personal guard, relatively small but very toothy.

Violetta, using her husband's money, her relatives' money, and her incredible business acumen, significantly strengthened both units, improved their supplies, and increased their numbers. She also took under her patronage several small units of narrow professionals, called among adventurers Stars. Violetta had a nose for young talent and she took full advantage of it, sometimes buying out the contracts of young but promising talents for a lot of money. Or directly paying for their education and maintenance, in exchange for working in the future. She also had a nose for profitable trading ventures. None of the military-trading expeditions she had organized had failed, even though there had been some risky ventures. Yes, some were more successful, others less so, but Violetta always made a profit. In the last ten years, she had even managed to organize two expeditions to the Neutral Territories of the Underground, which had brought her incredible profits.

Violetta had a very solid weight in the Adventurer's Guild, numerous connections, and a reputation for being a person with whom it was better to have good relations. And not just in the branch of her native Normgrave, but all over the Middle Sea, and even beyond. It also caused her wealth to grow considerably, making Lady Edelhart one of the richest women in her city. This was even though she was constantly investing a good portion of her profits into strengthening her main asset, her adventurer squads. If it weren't for the ties of kinship and the numerous mutual oaths that were regularly renewed, Duke Darmond would be nervous. In fact, it was through her influence in the Adventurers' Guild that Violetta had gotten her hands on the late Lord Leonard's diary.

After the commotion caused by the damned elves, Westmark, not the biggest Free City in the world, had become overcrowded. The hysteria caused by the city council over the storming of the Master's hideout by the damned elves had brought a whole crowd of people. Lady Edelhart had arrived as a representative of the Adventurer's Guild, who had been called upon by the Councilors. She had not arrived alone, of course, but with several adventurer squads that had been there when the elves stormed his hideout in Normgrave and had been hastily raised on alert. As well as the elite gold star adventurers who reported to her and only her directly. This particular squad, experienced in magical battlefields, was one of the first to arrive at the burnt-out ruins of Lord Leonard's mansion. They had discovered the surviving cache of Master's former accomplice in the ruins.

And not only discovered it but also managed to lay their hands on it in such a way that no outsider learned about it. And after the elves hunted the Master, revealing almost all the information they had, Violetta quickly realized what she had got her hands on. How could she resist, with her ambition? So, from the outside, she was participating and assisting in the search, but in reality, Lady Edelhart was preparing herself for what she considered to be the most important negotiations of her life. And to her credit, she had prepared herself very well, sparing no expense to protect herself and her mansion.

The meeting with her at the Northern Siren went surprisingly smoothly. Violetta's men let Master's puppet in without any problems, without asking any questions, but they checked her thoroughly before they let her in. Exactly checked, and not try to trace the connecting thread or in any other way to track Master's location. And then there was an extremely entertaining dialogue. The meaning of which, if we put aside all the diplomatic husks, was as follows. Violetta offered him safe haven and patronage in exchange for his services. And, of course, on condition that he should guarantee his complete loyalty.

It was so delightful that Master, who was in the office of the Dowager Baroness de Kleban, laughed until he was in tears. Fortunately, Violetta could not hear him. No, it was marvelous! To offer him, in fact, a slave collar and a place under the master's heel, in exchange for a golden cage. Or should he say a gilded cage? After that, Master decided that he had to add her to his collection of puppets. She would be of little use in battle, of course, but given his plans, Violetta could and would be useful to him in other ways.

He still couldn't fully understand her arrogance. Didn't she realize the power he had gained?! The elves had not been shy about publicizing his greatest gift, describing in great detail what he could give. Knowing this, she makes him an offer that a delinquent gifted person of the level of a, haha, master of magic could accept! Well, maybe an aspiring master. But not him! It would be necessary to find out what was behind it, self-confidence, arrogance, stupidity, or all together and in what proportions. Just for the sake of scientific interest. No, there's no way she could really expect him to agree to SUCH terms.

When he sent the puppet to meet Violetta without knowing who he was dealing with, he assumed he would be offered a deal. Perhaps not the most favorable for him, given the circumstances, but a deal. After all, he had made a certain reputation with the incident in Iyastar. Unique, in fact, services in exchange for some kind of help. The options for the latter could be quite numerous, depending on who would offer him the deal. And the Greatest Witnesses that gifted him with their gift, he would honor the terms of the deal honestly if it was made. But he couldn't even imagine that someone would have the impudence to offer him a slave collar and a gilded cage.

Of course, at the meeting at the Northern Siren, he gave his tentative consent and even agreed to a “gesture of kindness” on his part. To buy a little time, and let the girl think he was utterly desperate and willing to anything. As this gesture, Violetta asked him to settle her disagreement on work matters with one of her colleagues in the Adventurer's Guild. Behind these beautiful words was the usual desire to take over a promising mercenary squad, which the colleague was carefully nurturing for his personal needs. The squad was relatively small, but well-coordinated and well-staffed. In addition to smart warriors, there was a patented gifted healer and several universal mages. It could be a small, but strong and toothy enough squad of another baron, from the richer ones. An excellent addition to those units that are already under Violetta's patronage.

Such a task even before he had acquired the Greatest of Gifts would have been a moderate task for him. Nothing complicated, just routine without any challenge. Requiring mostly time, not effort or ingenuity. And with his current strength, it wasn't even ridiculous, a day or two's work. And that's if done properly. Getting close to Violetta herself was a much more difficult task. She had taken very good care of her own safety. For his former self, of course. Because her defense was very good, but it was designed for someone of comparable or even slightly superior strength to Master. But not someone with his set of knowledge, skills, and experience. A fatal mistake, Lady Edelhart, and you will see it firsthand tonight. Which will be aided by his lovely Saya, who has already picked up the keys to your mansion's defenses. Such a beautiful and irreplaceable doll she is.

* * *

In the Secret Guard Corps, several dozen elves were gathered in one of the meeting rooms around a huge oval table. There were several dozen elves, including some very high-ranking elves, including the Queen and the Elder Enchantress. They all looked gloomy, and many of them looked tired. First, sitting at the head of the table, waited until everyone had taken their seats and spoke briefly:

"Report."

Third, seated to his right, as unperturbed as ever, nodded and said in a voice devoid of emotion:

"We conducted a thorough investigation, and were able to almost completely reconstruct a picture of the events that almost led to the disaster with the Guest."

With a feeble gesture of his hand, Third projected above the table a three-dimensional image of a middle-aged human woman in an immaculate black-and-white maid's dress. An attractive enough woman. And not just any dress, but a senior maid dress.

"This is the honorable Alatrael's personal servant, Dorothea. We have found that it was she who first came under Master's influence. It was not an accident, it was carefully prepared in advance and thought out. A two-stage bookmark was used."

The image of the maid changed to some sort of utility room filled with cleaning supplies, flower pots, and other household items.

A carefully disguised cache was organized in one of the storerooms in the venerable Alatrael's domestic chambers. How and when it was done is hard to say, but we suspect it happened quite a long ago. It was probably done with the participation of “structured” puppets from among the emissary corps, during one of the “consultations” that the Honorable Alatrael gave them. In particular, she had met with Senior Emissary Arendal and his aides several times in recent years.

The image above the table changed again. It now showed three elves. Alatrael and the Senior Emissary with his assistant.

Of course, after the discovery of the fact of Arendal's “structuring”, all his contacts were checked, including the honorable Alatrael. No trace was found and, as we now realize, could not have been. Both Dorothea and even more so the honorable Alatrael were clean. No bookmarks, hidden or false memories, jumbled logical connections, or other techniques might have been noticed in the checks during Operation Quarantine. Instead, Master used something else.

Another meager gesture and the image of the three elves changed to the image of a small amulet in the form of a metal ball covered in runic symbols, on a chain.

"Dorothea went into the storeroom every few weeks as she cleaned her mistress's household. This amulet, concealed by a camouflage and distracting field among the cleaning supplies, came into play. It was embedded with a complex mental-analyzing weave, designed perfectly for Dorothea. If it detected that the maid was alone, the disguise dropped, the amulet attracted her attention, and as soon as she held it in her hands, it instantly took control of her. After that, the maid would check the stash in the same storeroom, which contained, among other things, a communication amulet designed for the most discreet and secure line of communication. Most likely, the repeater amulet was in a similar cache somewhere relatively close to the Royal Palace. In the absence of instructions, Dorothea would put everything back where it belonged, forget about the incident, and so on until the next cleaning."

The image changed again, and next to the metal ball appeared a beautiful silver necklace adorned with precious stones and nearly a dozen other amulets of various kinds - мasking, paralyzing, soporific, appearance-changing, for magical hacking. Such an array of tools would cause ecstasy in the vast majority of operatives of any Secret Guard. Or very serious questions, depending on who had it and under what circumstances it was found.

"But about a week ago, when checking the cache, she received instructions from Master, and then she had acted. The honorable Alatrael did not expect an attack from her completely loyal and faithful servant regularly checked by her. After taking control of her mistress, Dorothea gave her Master's instructions as well as most of the amulets in the stash. The necklace allowed Dorothea to monitor Alatrael from a distance and correct her actions if necessary. Dorothea, we suspect, was under Master's control."

The image changed again. Instead of spy amulets, Alatrael appeared, talking to various elves, including one dressed in the gray uniform of a Secret Guard agent.

"After that, Alatrael began her search for the “Guest”. Given her experience, her cooperation with the Secret Guardians, and the fact she knew who she was looking for, she quickly found him. Once she realized exactly who was covering for “The Guest” and who was working with him, she was able to gain access to him. This was necessary for two things. One, to make sure it was exactly who she needed. Two, to take a cast of the subtle bodies, to adjust the effects so it was guaranteed to be fatal."

The images changed again, and a projection of a small nude human figure appeared above the table. A very detailed figure depicting one particular person. In the chest of this figure was stuck a very small, as if made for a child's palm, a thin stiletto blade.

"As we suspected, Master had a “Guest” doll. Exactly how it was brought to the Palace grounds is hard to say, but we suspect it with the help of a paired portal artifact chest. As soon as Dorothea received the cast from Alatrael and made careful adjustments she struck. It was detected by the watchers conducting the search. But there was no way to prevent it."

A new meager hand gesture, and a new change of images. Now three dead humans were projected above the table. Or rather, humanoid chimeras created from human blood. Each had a smoking and bleeding hole in its chest.

"Master took the possible elimination of the “Guest” very seriously, using the already familiar and terribly effective combination of artifacting and the Puppet School. Even so, we would have had a chance to repel such a calibrated strike at such close range. If he hadn't had the opportunity to make adjustments to the Guest's thin body cast. Unfortunately, the honorable Alatrael unwittingly made such an adjustment, nullifying all our precautions."

Looking closely at the image of Cyril's figure, Sivila asked thoughtfully:

"Why didn't he try to kill him with Alatrael's hands? Was he afraid she would fail?"

"Most likely. He couldn't reliably know exactly how we were defending the “Guest”, so he could only count on success if he used a prearranged puppet."

"What about the cover team? Why didn't they intervene, at least when Alatrael was processing Diantrel?"

"There was no reason to,” Third shook his head.

"The agents received a message from Darendil that it was decided to give the “Guest” a lesson in “the basics of mental safety”. The direct processing of Diantrel, which took place in the training room, took place under the cover of cloaking amulets, creating a visual and acoustic illusion. Upon closer examination of the training room recordings, the moment when Alatrael activated the amulets she received from Master can be seen. But only if one knew what to look for and where to look. From the outside, the agents seemed to be simply discussing the details of the upcoming lesson."

"And all of this only came to light because Diantrel had the very good idea to diversify the Guest's training,” the Elder Enchantress slowly stretched out, looking at the images above the table, ”What is the condition of the Guest and Diantrel now?"

The image changed again. Now to the Healer's Chambers. There two people lay on adjacent medical beds. A young half-elf with a bandaged chest and a white-haired elfess, also with a bandaged chest. Both of them were asleep, or unconscious. The image was not static but projected what was happening in the Healer's Chambers right now.

"The Guest's condition is stable-serious. He was seriously injured, and not just physically. Geatral says it will take time for him to recover, but right now there is no threat to his life. Diantrell's condition is stable-medium and she's much less injured."

"We're all very lucky that Diantrel guessed to use the wound transfer technique,” Sivila added, looking at the wounded.

"I didn't think she was familiar with this rather dangerous technique of magical healing,” the Elder Enchantress said thoughtfully. ”It's usually practiced by those with self-healing abilities..."

"Look!"

"What's going on..."

"What the..."

For a few moments, dozens of elves watched in amazement at what was happening before their eyes in the Healer's Chambers. Then the shocked silence was broken by the thoughtful voice of First:

"Unexpected..."
* * *

Author's Note:

So, the mystery of how exactly Alatrael fucked Ciriall is solved. The answer is no. He was fucked by Master, as was Alatrael herself. Because M - Mastery. And you can't drink it.

As a result, Ciryusha got sick leave and also acquired an elfish companion without asking, as it was supposed to be for an isekai. And not only that but about it in the next chapter.

And, as it is not difficult to guess, for such an acquisition he should thank one elf teenager, who literally added to his experience to level 15, and gave him a gift, which was originally planned to be given only at 20. But without such a boost, Master would still have killed Ciryusha. So Aurial had to splurge, and then literally in manual mode to guide the dying popadun to the right thought and way to save himself.

To all readers, all the best, and my thanks! Especially to those who comment, give likes, correct typos, and ask questions. Good luck to everyone!

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Переводчики: Camrad_RIP