Готовый перевод История Королевы Эльфов / The story of the Elf Queen: Глава тринадцатая. Приятные награды и неприятное послание для Героя Королевы Эльфов

Chapter Thirteen: Nice rewards and an unpleasant message for the Hero of the Elf Queen

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Probably one of the most enjoyable things in the life of an Isekai with the System and System quests is getting a reward for them. Especially when you had to do almost nothing to complete the quest! Well, practically nothing. After all, Cyril donated to this good cause compensation provided by his patroness (once again, thank you, Magnificent, glory, glory, glory, glory!!) But the reward for completing the quest more than covered this loss! However, the “unwrapping of gifts” had to wait until Diantrel came to her senses. When her mentor suddenly felt “bad” and almost fell, the Queen and the Elder Enchantress tensed up and immediately summoned Geatral. But Cyrill calmed both elves in time, explaining that nothing terrible happened, just his connection with his mentor reached the second level. And now she needed time to come to her senses, just as he did when he increased this or that knowledge. This explanation calmed the elven woman considerably, but they did not cancel Geatral's summons. The elf healer who arrived carefully examined Diantrel, who sat motionless at the table with her eyes closed, but found nothing dangerous or strange. The mentor was completely healthy, no abnormalities in her physical or subtle bodies were visible.

Fortunately, the condition didn't last long, compared to Cyril getting some advanced skills. When the mentor woke up and opened her eyes, Geatral examined her thoroughly again, but found nothing suspicious. Diantrel was perfectly fine, as she had stated shedding light on what had happened to her. The reason for her temporary absence from the real world was that, as she put it, an invisible but all-seeing eye had appeared in front of her. It scrutinized her mentor from all sides, not only her body, but her whole life, from the moment of birth to the present moment. All of this, she felt, had taken seconds, though in the real world it had been almost half an hour. And just at that moment, when all the elven women had calmed down, and the mentor had risen to her feet and was just about to assess her changed status, the System sent Diantrel a message about receiving an award.

Thank the Balancing Guardian of the Universe, there was no mention of the quest Cyril had completed. It was just a message saying that for reaching the second level of communication with the Chosen One you were given such and such rewards. Otherwise, it could have turned out badly. And so, Cyril, without arousing suspicion, said that he also received such a message! What a joy! Having found out what kind of awards they received, the elves looked at each other, briefly consulted, and decided that Cyril should start “unpacking”. So that, as the queen put it, he and Diantrel would not lose touch with reality at the same time. Just in case. The young man was in full agreement with this, after which, finally, he was able to start receiving the deserved awards.

For the normal completion of the task, he received, as promised, one talent point, as well as a modification of the property “Minor Thin Body Strengthening”, which turned into simply “Thin Body Strengthening II”. Considering his condition, it was by no means unreasonable. Energy channels, energy nodes, aura sheaths - everything became a bit stronger and more resistant to hostile energy. He felt as if he were being squeezed by invisible walls on all sides, squeezing tangibly. A cold needle pricked his heart, but there were no other negative effects. But there was a benefit from the obtained property, and what a benefit! If you combine the obtained property with the “Advanced Fundamentals of Management and Control of Internal Energies”, which allows you to infuse a particular area of the subtle body with energy, you could literally fight off relatively weak attacking weaves with your hands. The method, of course, is far from the most effective, but that's for now. If you develop both the knowledge and the property, you can get a very interesting combination. Although, even “Strengthening of thin bodies X” would hardly save Cyril from a blow of the same bloody Master, damn him to hell

The good award was, surprisingly enough, good! One could even say, excellent! As an elite minor knowledge, Cyril received a “Personal Defense Field”, which was a weave of not the highest master's, or even junior- magister's level. And it was, as it was easy to guess from the name, a personal defense field. That is, literally, Cyril was able to create a protective field around himself, which surrounded his body with a thin, but very strong layer of magic. And almost instantly, the formation of this very difficult weave was now perfected by him to the full automaticity! From the outside, it looked as if the young man was glowing faintly over the entire surface of his body.

Not too impressive, but incredibly effective! This field reflected active types of magical attacks and did not let passive ones pass through. The same was true for physical attacks and, just as importantly, the consequences of their effects. The field completely reflected all the energy of the blow, simply preventing the attacking object from reaching Cyril. A sword, axe, arrow, or hammer, even if it hit him exactly in the head, would simply bounce away before reaching his body. It is quite possible that it would have broken at the same time. It was clear that this field had its limits, and it would not stop a blow of some divine Herald or a blade enchanted by the Archmagister, even if Cyril put all his strength into it. Even if the weave was not completely destroyed, it would simply be breached. The same was true for more subtle charms of the highest level, the theoretical magister, trying hard, could well pick up such a variant, which would be able to penetrate through the defense. Or would not be perceived by it as something hostile and dangerous.

In short, the defense is very good, but not ultimatum. Though for someone of Cyril's level, it's just great, even if it eats up the reserve like crazy. And of course, the stronger the attack, the more of it would be spent on its reflection. According to the Elder Enchantress's cursory assessment, she could break through Cyril's defense in two blows. Or rather, not break through it, but simply drain all of the young man's reserve to maintain it. So it was good to have full crystals or other accumulators at hand, and even better to be within the limits of a good source of magic. By her own estimation, if Cyril had both rings fully charged, he could walk around for a while, even under the fire of another magic master sitting in his magic tower. Not long, but still. However, such protection would not save him from Master's blow, if that bastard were alive. Or rather, not from that particular blow. The power of all sorts of dolls and portraits was in their ability to bypass such defenses, almost completely ignoring them. But even so, it was a very cool thing, and definitely useful, which Cyril was very happy about!

But they could give an elite property that allows you to grow your penis to any length and use it as a whip. Or as a fighting boa constrictor, which can be used to strangle and fuck all sorts of magical girls. And douse your enemies with a modified white substance. Cyril even thought for a moment, and wondered is there was such a property? No, it's quite crazy, but not the same people (or who are they really?) created the System to shove such tricks into it. Putting aside stupid thoughts that popped into his head at inopportune moments, Cyril moved on to the next award.

The elite property was also above reproach, and literally perfect for Cyril. ‘Magic in Blood’ fully lived up to its name, changing Cyril's blood and flesh in such a way that they were now literally saturated with magical energy an order of magnitude stronger than before. This increased the volume of the reserve by almost a quarter, the speed of its replenishment, and at the same time made Cyril's magical energy.... in a certain sense more dense. Now, it was enough for him to spend less of his reserve to achieve the same power and efficiency of the created weaves. At first glance, it didn't seem noticeable, but during a long battle, or when creating large weaves, like large-scale rituals, it gave a noticeable gain in strength and magical endurance.

The bonus was the increased chance that Cyril's children would also have a distinct talent for magic. It also turned his blood and meat into a natural delicacy for all sorts of vampires, practitioners of Blood Magic, or ritual cannibalism. And the cherry on the cake: as the ‘Source’ characteristic increased, the effectiveness of this property would also increase, which was a good thing. The sensation of receiving this property was as if a very hot, but not scalding, fireball had flared up in Cyril's chest for a moment, which then spread all over his body, warming him up pleasantly. It was as if he'd stepped into a well-steamed sauna with dry rather than humid air.

But the most delicious, as expected, was the award for perfect execution. A unit of characteristics fell to Cyril in “Corporeality”, bringing it to a two, which immediately reflected on the appearance of the young man, barely he came to his senses after the previous award. This time the sensation was as if he, like a character in a Russian folk tale, had plunged into a steep boiling water, and immediately emerged from it into an ice-hole, and then found himself in a warm and soft bed. If it hadn't been for the vigilance of the elven women watching him closely, Cyril might have fallen, but Geatral picked him up under her arm in time.

The elven healer, with burning eyes, immediately began to flutter around the young man, assessing his changed state, most of all worrying about the long-suffering Heart Energy Node. Fortunately, Cyril's subtle body was not affected in any way. But the young man's physical body had changed a bit. After he had been thoroughly disguised as a half-elf, he was already sinfully complaining about his reflection in the mirror. Now it was even better! No, Cyril did not become a young version of Iron Arnie, but he looked like an exemplary athlete! Musculature on his arms and legs became more pronounced, there were clear hints of abs. Now he could be on the covers of fashion magazines, advertising elite rags for kilos of euros, sewn in basements by Chinese children for a bowl of rice. For a brief moment, Cyril even wanted to run to the local gym, to check the changes in the case, but who would let him in?

The hidden reward, which turned out to be a new system feature, called “Token of restoration of the modifier of a Companion 10/10”, also pleased him. And it allowed as it is clear from the name, ten times to instantly restore any of the modifiers of a companion. At least ten times in a row the same one! If you think about it, the thing is incredibly powerful in critical situations! If you combine it with the same “Magical Restoration I”, you can for some time against an entire army hold one with Diantrel in a bare field, simply due to the constantly replenished reserve! True, in the description it was stated that excessive use of this ability negatively affects the subtle bodies and physical health. But as a last resort argument - still very cool!

And of course, there were also goods from the elite segment of the Auction! However, Cyril did not have time to look at them even with a glance, because he had to deal with the status of his dear mentor (and her awards!). To begin with, Diantrel had gained almost full access to the System, which made her status noticeably updated and quite impressive. The first part of it remained practically unchanged:

Name: Diantrel of the House of Winterblooms, daughter of Edenril.

Character level: 52

Connection level with the Chosen One: 2 (advanced).

Type of connection with the Chosen One: Mentor/Student.

Class: Battle Enchantress

Characteristics: (0)

Talents: (1)

Constitution: 3

Sensitivity: 4

Power: 11

Control: 14

Source: 13

Spirit: 3

Resistance: 4

Actually, before, not counting the modifiers, this was all of Diantrel's status. Now there is a list of the mentor's knowledge, which the System has fully appreciated:

Knowledge:

Written and spoken: Classical Elvish, Dark Elvish, Free Cities, Northern Theocracy, Island Kingdom, Southern Caliphate, Dwarven Undermountain, Western Steppe, Central Steppe, Green Steppe, Northern Kingdoms, Ice Islands, Rising Empire (Classical/Simplified), Gem Cities, Small Kingdoms of the Southeast.

The list of languages Diantrel had already learned made him a little dumbfounded. On the other hand, having lived for centuries, it was probably impossible not to learn a dozen or two languages, unless you were a complete dumbass. Or a mentalist who prefers to communicate directly with thought images. But the list of languages was followed by the list of knowledge, and against this background Cyril felt quite weak.

‘advanced mastery of combat weaves’, “advanced mastery of generalist weaves”, “advanced mastery of elemental magic (air)”, “advanced mastery of elemental magic (fire)”, “advanced mastery of elemental magic (fire)”, “advanced mastery of elemental magic (earth)”, “advanced mastery of elemental magic (water)”, “advanced creation and use of advanced ritual circles”, ‘advanced barrier and protective weaves’, “advanced control of internal energies”, “advanced possession of advanced amulets and artefacts”, “advanced ability to work with powerful external sources”, “advanced dueling with magic wands”, “advanced tactics of magical combat”, ‘advanced magical search techniques’, “advanced magical disguise techniques”, “advanced wilderness reconnaissance skills”, “advanced wilderness survival skills”, “advanced magic-diversion skills”, ‘advanced mago-martial training instructor skills’, “advanced healing weaves”, “advanced archery”, “advanced fencing with one-handed blades (classical elven school)”, “advanced knowledge of generalist alchemy”, “advanced agent work”.

It was an impressive list! Even just reading it, Cyril realized how much work he still had to do. But, on the other hand, one should not forget that his mentor had been practicing magic for centuries (how long would it take to find out exactly?), and he had only a couple of months. Although, for such “only” the locals would definitely kill someone. Perhaps even Cyril himself. And besides knowledge, Diantrel had a good set of properties.

Properties:

"Developed Subtle Bodies III", "Refined Reflexes III", "Trained Body II", "Magic Sense II", "Forest Sense II", "Elven Health (Racial)", "Source of Magic"

The mentor did not have any systemic properties. Moreover, they remained blocked.

System Properties: (#####)

Digging into the System Help made it clear that for a Companion, the ability to obtain or purchase meta-skills would only appear with the acquisition of the third level of connection. At the end of the status were the modifiers that remained unchanged.

Companion Modifiers: Share the Burden I, Mark of the Chosen I, Magical Restoration I, Subtle Body Healing I

Having more or less sorted out the status of the mentor, they moved on to the rewards for the completed assignment of increasing the level of communication. For the usual reward, Diantrel received an increase in the “Sense of Magic” property to the third level and one talent point. Which was pretty good, but not even close to the elite property and little knowledge. As the latter, the mentor received “ Blink”, an instant teleportation over short distances. A natural blink, just like in computer games! When Diantrel used it, moving from one part of the room to another and then back again in a fraction of an instant, the Queen and the Elder Enchantress' faces were a pleasure to watch. Especially the latter's face. Cyril wasn't willing to bet on that, but he had a suspicion Mirael experienced terrible envy at that moment. As it was explained to him a little later, this skill, belonging to the School of Space Magic, was in some aspects even more complicated than the creation of full-fledged long-distance portals. And it required long and dangerous practice. Deadly dangerous, because in case of a mistake, for example, the head and the rest of the body could move to different places. Or at least with a shift of one centimeter, which could also be deadly unpleasant.

Diantrel had learnt this skill in just a few minutes and at a level that she had practiced for the last twenty years. The latter was a quote from the mentor as she moved from one side of the classroom to the other a few more times. No flashy effects, just her standing in one place, for a split second her appearance became semi-blurred, then disappeared, and then she was in a new place. But it's incredibly effective! According to the Elder Enchantress, one of Master's puppets had surprised the elves very unpleasantly with this very rare ability.

As an elite property, Diantrel received Magic Boost. It did not come with a luxury car and a detailed lecture on family values from a brutal bald jock, but it was not bad without them. This property gave her mentor the ability to double the capacity of her energy channels for a short time, about half an hour, once a day, and additionally strengthened all of her subtle bodies as a whole. This allowed Diantrel to literally burn with napalm magic from both hands, at the expense of more reserve, which she could put into this or that weave in less time. This allowed Diantre to literally burn with napalm magic from both hands due to more reserves that she could put into this or that weave in less time, without fear of injuries or ‘burnout’ of the subtle bodies, to which an attempt to cast too complex a spell.

Speaking in the local language, Diantrel was able to use weaves of the level of a full-fledged magister for a short time, but still without fear of crippling herself with weaves that were too powerful for her. And if you combine this property with the “Magic Restoration I” modifier and with the token Cyril received... Then his mentor becomes a natural WMD on long legs and with long ears. Judging by the expressions on the faces of the elves, they realized it too, and once again for a short time their usual world was tested for durability. While they were thinking about it, the system automatically added a one to the “Constitution” characteristic, bringing it to a four.

It was almost like an anime scene. The mentor stopped abruptly, exhaled, and then instantly transformed. A four in Corporeality was no joke! During the fateful pool session, Diantrel had an athletic physique and well-defined musculature, which Cyril had been able to appreciate only once fully. The addition of one unit did not turn the mentor into a female version of Arnie in his best years, but she still added a little bit of muscle. You could send her to the Olympics right now, or as a fitness trainer at a high-end sports club. But if in the volume (but not the quality!) of muscles Diantrel added a little, but in the volume of breasts, already enlarged by Cyril, the increase was more noticeable, a whole size. So much so that one of the buttons of her mentor's army garments couldn't stand it and burst, unable to withstand the pressure.

If Cyril had been the hero of some Japanese isekai, it should have hit him in the forehead as hard as a bullet and knocked him out. But instead, it just flew off to the side, and there was a silent scene in the classroom that lasted for a few seconds. To Cyril's great relief, the situation was defused by Diantrel herself, explaining the reason for the change. And the young man once again sent rays of kindness to the crooked admins or moderators of the System, who had set him up so badly with the change of the mentor's appearance. After all, it was possible to make it unnoticeable! What a set-up!

As a result of all the changes, the overall status of Diantrel began to look like this:

Name: Diantrel of the House of Winterblooms, daughter of Edenril.

Character level: 52

Connection level with the Chosen One: 2 (Advanced).

Type of connection with the Chosen One: Mentor/Student.

Class: Battle Sorceress

Characteristics: (0)

Talents: (1)

Constitution: 4

Sensitivity:4

Power: 11

Control: 14

Source: 13

Spirit: 3

Resistance: 4

Knowledge:

Written and spoken: Classical Elvish, Dark Elvish, Free Cities, Northern Theocracy, Island Kingdom, Southern Caliphate, Dwarven Undermountain, Western Steppe, Central Steppe, Green Steppe, Northern Kingdoms, Ice Islands, Rising Empire (Classical/Simplified), Gem Cities, Small Kingdoms of the Southeast.

‘advanced mastery of martial weaves’, “advanced mastery of generalist weaves”, “advanced mastery of elemental magic (air)”, “advanced mastery of elemental magic (fire)”, “advanced mastery of elemental magic (earth)”, “advanced mastery of elemental magic (water)”, ‘advanced creation and application of advanced ritual circles’, ‘advanced barrier and protective weaves’, ‘advanced control of internal energies’, ‘advanced proficiency in advanced amulets and artefacts’, ‘advanced ability to work with powerful external sources’, ‘advanced dueling with magic wands’, ‘advanced magical combat tactics’, “advanced magical search techniques”, “advanced magical disguise techniques”, “advanced wilderness reconnaissance skills”, “advanced wilderness survival skills”, “advanced magic-diversion skills”, ‘advanced mago-martial training instructor skills’, “advanced healing weaves”, “advanced archery”, “advanced fencing with one-handed blades (classical elven school)”, “advanced knowledge of generalist alchemy”, “advanced agent work”.

Minor knowledge:

"Blink"

Properties:

"Developed Subtle Bodies III", "Refined Reflexes III", "Magic Sense III", "Trained Body II", "Forest Sense II", "Elven Health (Racial)", "Source of Magic", "Magic Boost (Elite)"

Modifaers of Companion:

"Share the Burden I", "Mark of the Chosen One I", "Magical Restoration I", "Healing of the Subtle Bodies I"

The status of Cyril began to look like this:

Name: Cyrill

Level: 16

Class: Wizard

Characteristics: (free) 2; (limited) 0

Talents (free): 1 (limited): 0

Companion Modification Points (0)

Constitution: 2

Sensitivity: 2

Power: 9

Control: 5

Source: 6

Spirit: 1

Resistance: 1

Acquired Knowledge:

Classical Elvish, Free Cities, Northern Theocracy;

“Advanced basics of management and control of internal energies”, ‘advanced skills of working with external energy sources’, ‘advanced skills of creating basic magical barriers’, ‘advanced skills of creating basic magical weaves’, ‘advanced basics of techniques of magical dueling with battle wands’, “advanced basics of tantric techniques of energy restoration”, ‘advanced basics of creation and application of ritual circles’, ‘basic basics of tactics of magical combat’, ‘basics of working with advanced amulets and artifacts’, ‘advanced methods of magical search’, ”advanced basics of general weaves of elemental magic”

Minor Knowledge:

‘Defence Field (elite).’

Acquired properties: “the blessing of harmonious magical development”, "Strengthening of subtle bodies II", "Regeneration of Subtle Bodies I", "Magic in the Blood (Elite)"

System Modifiers: “Issuance of System Assignments II”, "Intensive Development III", "Access to System Purchases II"

Tokens:

Restoration of the companion modifier 10/10

Special: Chosen of Aurial the Magnificent, Supreme Keeper of the Balance of Worlds, Standing on Guard of the Balance of Power: Hidden Effects. Active ability: "Share the burden of the Chosen One"

After that was over, however, it was time for perhaps the juiciest part of the reward. The offered elite goods from the System Shop. Of course, the young man assured the elven women present that he would not make any hasty and rash decisions. He is not an impulsive moron! Having agreed on all these points, he together with his mentor began to study the proposed awards. There were eight in total, four offered to Diantrel and four to Cyril. And all of them were temporarily hidden in non-existent chests. Natural, damn, lootboxes, which must be opened by mental command! And who chose such a variant of the interface? Moreover, due to the fact that the mentor did not have full access to the Auction, it was as if she ‘connected’ to it through the young man. That way, they could both see what had been offered to whom. Making sure everyone was ready, Diantrel mentally commanded the first of the bounty chests to open. And upon seeing its contents, Cyril was stunned for a moment.

‘Irresistible Attraction’ was a small vial of dark maroon liquid, a variant of a not-so-common but very powerful charm potion. To begin with, it only worked on men. But a woman didn't need to put it in her food or spill it under the headboard of his bed. She just had to drink this potion, adding a particle of the object to it. After that, the drinker acquired literally irresistible attraction for the chosen man. The latter began to be attracted to literally everything in the seductress. Appearance, voice, laughter, smell, manner of speech - no matter how they were perceived before, now they seemed to him the most attractive! And that was if one simply used the potion by adding, say, a fingernail or a hair of his victim to it. And if, it was specified separately, to use blood or seed, or better, both blood and seed, the result became even more powerful and with additional bonuses.

The man literally began to be drawn to the woman who had bewitched him. He became physically ill from separation from her, at the level of heavy drug addiction. He wanted to be near her, to receive praise from her, or simply to communicate with her. And any closeness, especially intimate, began to give solid bonuses, especially for the gifted. Accelerated replenishment of the reserve, increased regeneration of the physical and subtle body, accelerated cleansing of the subtle body from harmful influences, and extraneous energy. And, of course, passion on a level where any request of the subject entreaties became if not an absolute law, then at the very least, strictly obligatory for serious consideration. Anything! But, and it was indicated in the description separately, to maintain the effect required regular intimacy, preferably with the most abundant exchange of all sorts of bodily fluids. The latter also came with a significantly increased chance of conceiving joint offspring. It was an extremely powerful effect that was very difficult to counteract or repel, but it was highly visible from the outside and required minimal contact between the seducer and the victim to work.

That is, with a man who knows nothing about his seductress, the effect of the potion will be about zero. Simply because he will not have the focus of attraction of his passion. Even with the use of blood and seed, he will begin to get worse and worse every day, he will suffer, not realizing what is eating him and what he wants. But if he saw the seductress, at least a glimpse of her in a crowd of a thousand faces, that would be enough. It was possible not even to meet in person; a realistic enough portrait would do just as well. But of course, the maximum effect was achieved when the victim and the bewitched one were in close contact and the combination of seed and blood was used. The thing is frighteningly ultimatum in its effectiveness.

After reading the description of this potion, Cyril mentally thanked his heavenly patroness that his mentor didn't have offline access to the Auction. Because otherwise... no, it wasn't that he didn't trust Diantrel, but it was just that the temptation must be very great, since it would be easy for her to use such a hex on him.... Though, what was wrong with that, especially considering her current appearance and... No, she's not like that, stop thinking dirty thoughts, Cyril! She saved you from such a seductress! Shit, but still. No! Enough! Although in theory. Cyril didn't have time to finish thinking about another vulgar fantasy, which came into his head with a persistence worthy of better use, because to his relief, Diantrel, who was sitting next to him at the table, turned to her student for a moment, without saying a word to the rest of the elves, with a stone face, with a couple of mental commands crossed out this option, barely finished reading his description.

The spell potion burned in a symbolic fire, and Diantrel opened the next chest. It contained the Stone of Return. It was an unassuming stone, grey in colour, round in shape, with a single, very sketchy drawing, as if a child of five was trying to draw a house. A square of walls, a triangle of roof, a smaller square in the centre of the first, divided by a cross, which is obviously a window and a small t-shaped chimney. Really a drawing of a small child. Except that the pebble, despite its completely unsightly appearance, was imbued with the most powerful spatial magic and was a magister-level artefact. If you took it in your hand and performed a simple ritual, the pebble was firmly attached to the place where it was held, becoming a spatial anchor-beacon. On the back of the palm of the ritualist's hand, there was a barely visible tattoo in the form of a child's house. In fact, it was a powerful weave-print of portal type.

When activated, it would almost instantly transport the owner back to the place where the pebble was left, from almost any open point within the planet. It was open, all sorts of dungeons, magical asylums, Underground, spatial magic suppressors - all of them were quite strictly cutting either the range of return, or the safety of return, depending on the degree of complexity of the obstacle. But in general, obstacles up to the level of a master of magic could be overcome without serious problems within a radius of about fifty kilometres. There were other restrictions, in the form of a recovery period, which could not be less than a week, but no more than three months. And it was impossible to change the anchor point earlier than once a year. If you took the stone to a new place, it simply stopped working before the year was up.

The cherry on the cake was that the palm prints were practically invisible from the outside, fitting perfectly into the subtle body of the wearer and not standing out in any way. A great means of escape, especially if you have a safe and well-prepared hideout somewhere! If Cyril were a typical runaway, who alone confronts the whole world, he would need such a stone. But for his mentor such an artefact was not very useful?

However, when Diantrel told the Queen and the Elder Enchantress about it, they suddenly became very animated and began to ask her for all the details about the stone, carefully recording and writing them down. In response to Cyril's puzzled look, the mentor discreetly explained that such an artefact was not very useful for her, but for many Secret Guard agents, especially those working undercover, such a means of emergency evacuation would be a great help. Diantrel cast strange and meaningful glances at her mentor and the Queen.

When everything they could have learned about the ‘Stone of Return’ had been learnt, the mentor moved on to the third chest with the reward. ‘’Wrath of the Battle Mage‘’ was a graceful sword of medium length, reminiscent of the blades Cyril had seen in local elven warriors. Elegant, refined, decorated with filigree carvings on the hilt and seven runes engraved in the centre of the blade on both sides, closer to the guard. The four basic elements, light, darkness, and simply force/energy, read the note-explanation for each rune. It also stated, and Cyril and Diantrel were inclined to believe it, that this sword was a textbook version of the Magick Sword from all sorts of fairy tales and legends.

Its strength was not in its incredible sharpness or durability (although it had those too), but in the fact that it was able to serve as a perfect conductor, amplifier, and resonator for the energy of its owner. If you wanted, you didn't need to put any complex weaves into it; although you could, it was enough just to infuse the sword with magic, and strike a blow, which it would amplify by an order of magnitude. If you wanted to, you could also give it the colour you wanted. You want fire? Please! You want it the other way round to cool your opponent down? Here's a water blade for you! This sword was perfectly suited for fine slicing both physically protected opponents, in all sorts of armour, and magically protected ones. It could pierce, slice, or cut through steel and magical weaves with equal ease. And the ratio of strength/punching power was almost one to three, which turned this sword in the hands of a strong and skilled swordsman into a truly fearsome weapon. It was also able to deflect direct magical attacks, blocking the attacking weaves with its blade, and with proper skill, it could also knock them back into the enemy, just like... just like...

For several minutes Cyril tried unsuccessfully to remember what this option of the sword reminded him of, while his mentor was describing its details to the other elves, which they carefully wrote down, at the same time asking clarifying questions. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't even get a rough idea of what kind of associations the sword evoked in him. A sword glowing with magic, reflecting the lightning bolts directed at it.... It's somewhere... Where...

"Cirial?"

His mentor's concerned voice brought the young man back to reality. The first thing he saw was the concerned faces of the elven women looking at him anxiously. Before he could realise anything, Geatral was already beside him, palms pressed to his temples. The healer's green eyes flashed with magical fire, and Cyril felt a pleasant wave of warm and gentle healing energy surge through his body. His head immediately cleared, and he felt moisture under his nose and on his lips. What the...?

"You're frozen in place, and your nose suddenly bleeds. And judging from the familiar brain activity I can see, is it because you've found another ‘void’ in your memories?" The healer surmised.

"That's right,” Cyrill nodded, hurriedly tidying himself up, ”I don't know how or why, but that sword looked familiar. It wasn't the sword itself, but the ability to deflect enemy spells. Somehow, I'm sure I've already seen somewhere a blade glowing with magic, reflecting lightning strikes! That's all I'm sure of..."

They were not able to understand or remember anything else, so after a few minutes, when Geatral was sure that Cyril was alright, they moved on to the last option proposed by Diantrel. And on this one, the mentor's eyes naturally lit up when she saw what was hiding in the chest. And when the other elven girls heard the description, their eyes lit up as well. ‘The Source of Magic’ justified its name by a hundred and fifty per cent. A small clay jug, like any peasant's hut, was filled with glowing turquoise water, which flowed out of it in a thin stream, immediately evaporating in the air. If you drink all the water, you will awaken a full-fledged and already well-formed gift for magic, even if you have never had anything like it before. Translated into the System's language, this would be equivalent to four points in ‘Source’ and two points in ‘Power’ and ‘Control’. Eight characteristic points! Eight! The ability to turn any ordinary human or young elf into a strong apprentice at once by their stats!

As they call it, give me two, or better three! Caring parents of all sorts of representatives of mago-aristocratic families will tear off such a jug with their hands and even with their heads for their favourite child. And for themselves, too, they will gladly buy one way or another! However, in case the main characteristics of a magician who drank this water are already above or equal to the value of three, he will get only two points in ‘’Source‘’ and one point each in the other characteristics. If they are equal to or higher than ten, then only one point in each.

It was a very powerful enhancement that no gifted person would refuse, but even it paled in comparison to the main method of using the jug and its contents. If you properly prepare a suitable place (ideally a natural spring, but a small pond or even a man-made fountain will do), perform not the most complicated set of rituals over it, and then pour the contents of the jug into it, it will immediately turn into a natural source of medium-power magic of neutral type. Which, moreover, will become stronger and stronger over the years with proper care. Or it could be a good way to strengthen an existing natural source of magic. As Deantrel read the description of the Source of Magic, Cyril became more and more convinced that she would choose that option. But how she would use it... It seems that the mentor said that she had her laboratory in the family mansion. And now she might have her source of magic. Though it's not a sure thing, the Elder Enchantress has a very predatory fire in her eyes, as does Geatral...

Having hardly waited for the elves to finish asking the mentor for details about the jug with magical water, for a sip of which many people would kill without a second thought, Cyril turned to his awards. So, what do we have here? With a mental command, Cyril opened the first of the chests. And was once again taken aback by what was inside. The Taming of the Shrew was a black leather collar with metal spikes on the outside and a metal lock. And it was a slavemancer artifact of the work of a full-fledged magister at the very least. But it was made, if anyone made it at all, and it had not been created by the will of the System Admins, by a magister of very specific tastes.

To begin with, the collar did not turn the victim into a submissive puppet, nor did it suppress her will to resist, nor did it directly affect the victim's mind or feelings. Moreover, the collar even made the victim relatively resistant to any attempts to influence her mind, which was odd at first glance. But reading the descriptions of the collar, it all became clear. The collar forced the victim to obey the orders of the one who put it on. And in the case of the slightest disobedience, it caused the most severe pain, paralyzing completely or partially and suppressing the magical gift. And the degree and place of pain infliction, the scope of paralysis. All this the owner could determine manually or could set an automatic mode. The artifact was very flexible in this regard.

Yet, the artifact never once made the slave submissive or safe for the master. It only forced her to do his bidding. I mean! Simply saying, “Don't hurt me” wouldn't prevent the slave from, say, setting a fire on the first floor of the mansion at night, in which the master would burn to death. She didn't hurt him, she just started a fire. And it was the fire that burned the master, and she had nothing to do with it. So it was necessary to formulate orders as clearly and unambiguously as possible, outlining the boundaries and marking his will. And here the slave could not disobey her master's will without consequences. There was, of course, the possibility that she might be led to believe that cyanide was an ideal substitute for sugar in her Master's tea, but that was where the collar's protection of the slave's mind came into play. It wasn't a hundred percent guarantee, but it was a good one.

Well, let's say it was an unusual, but extremely effective slave collar, which, if successfully put on, could be used to subdue a magistress, because even from the outside, it was a challenge to remove it. Or rather, to take it off without killing the slave. To get rid of this thing oneself it was necessary to possess a set of very rare and specific skills and abilities. But the creator of this masterpiece decided that all of the above was not enough. The collar could only be put on the woman to whom the owner had strong negative emotions. If the wearer was at least indifferent, the collar would not buckle! Well, let it be so, a kind of perverted means of revenge pissed off you representative of the fair sex. But even that wasn't enough for the creator.

The collar also did a pretty good job of enhancing the woman wearing it! Increased physical characteristics, such as agility, strength, and reaction speed. Increased resistance to physical and magical damage, combined with accelerated regeneration. Reduced sensitivity to any source of pain other than the collar itself. And as a bonus, there was a good amount of magical energy that could be stored in the collar to sustain the slave. Putting it on a simple peasant woman could turn her, no, not into an ultimatum killing machine, but into quite a dangerous opponent, especially for an untrained enemy. And if you put it on a veteran orc warrior, with a collection of a few dozen severed ears, and with a spear where on the shaft there is no free space from notches .... you'd have a natural killing machine! Which, however, first of all, wants to kill you.

There was a separate warning that if the slave was completely “tamed,” the collar would stop working on her, the clasp would open, and it would just fall to the floor without any warning. Hmmm... Almost the perfect artifact for someone looking to acquire a battle slave. And one that Cyril didn't need at all. Rereading his description once more, the young man coughed quietly, catching his mentor's attention. He looked into the eyes of Diantrel, who turned to him, and without a word, he sent the collar into the same furnace where she had sent the spell potion earlier.

Diantrel said nothing, but Cyril was sure she appreciated the act. The young man opened the next chest. He was stunned for the second time. No, there was not another rabomancy BDSM device. From the chest Cyril dropped out a full set of armor made of some lightweight and very magic-intensive alloy based on mifril. The name of the armor was very laconic: “Combat Mage Armor”. But they were not a fantasy version of knight's armor, but a fantasy version of Tony Stark's suit, aka Iron Man! And it was customized to Cyril's figure! It looked very cool and epic! But appearance was God's tenth of his virtues! As well as its lightness and durability. Its main advantage was its incredible functionality, really similar to that of Irom Man's suit!

It would be more accurate to say, potential functionality, because the set of armor offered to Cyril was, in fact, a billet. Very good, even excellent, but it was a billet, which could be used as it was, but for the full disclosure of its capabilities, it was necessary to invest in this armor. He already had a small set of storage crystals with a significant capacity and some amulets. A few attacking amulets, a couple of protective amulets, and a helmet with magical vision, but they were all crumbs. If desired and possible, it was easy to increase the number of amulets, because all the elements of the armor were almost ready to install them and, most importantly, to integrate them into a single functioning network, whose nodes would not conflict with each other.

If you add more crystals or other storage devices and adjust the armor to your own magic reserve.... Oh, there were so many possibilities! You could install attack, defense, scanning, healing, and even levitation amulets, or entire sets! It was possible to prepare various combinations of them and install them depending on the current and upcoming opportunities. The plates of the armor could also be engraved with additional rune engravings, or additional mounts could be attached to it for more crystals and amulets.

The space for creativity and all sorts of modifications was huge. If only money and resources were available. It would take a lot of it! Surely the local dwarves would not hesitate to give three times the weight of gold for such armor. And in the end would still be terribly pleased that they were able to buy such a masterpiece so cheaply. And if you tell them about the included crystal-storage, where there was a good set of schemes of possible modifications.... Uh... And he can afford something like that! Or rather, not Cyril himself, but the elves. Oh, what can be done having such a billet...

His imagination painted a scene where Cyril, like Iron Man, rushes through the clouds, ramming into a Chitauri landing craft, punching it through to the delighted gasps of the audience on the ground. And then smoothly lands in front of an enthusiastic crowd in the town square, with everyone applauding him.... Yeah, it's nonsense, but it looks flashy and cool. Though no, it's not nonsense, if you invest in this armor properly, then such a thing will be quite feasible.... Cyril was distracted from his fantasies by the queen's restrained and surprised voice:

"An impressive masterpiece... of artefact making."

Only at that moment, Cyril realized Diantrel had also had time to evaluate the armor offered to him, and had already voiced its specifications to the other elves. And it was obvious that it had impressed them. The Elder Enchantress even had time to make some calculations, seemingly assessing the options of possible configuration.

“I agree,” the young man nodded, “it reminds me of the armor of a certain hero of a fictional legend from my home world...”

It took some more time to briefly recount Tony Stark's story to the elves, during which time the Queen and the Elder Enchantress had a parallel discussion with someone with the help of communication amulets. In the end, they agreed that this armor looked very promising and attractive, and Cyril was in complete agreement with them. But there were still two chests left, and he opened the third one with bated breath. ‘The Third Eye’ looked like a faceted crystal ball glowing with a soft blue light, the size of an eyeball. When activated, it formed, who would have thought, a natural third eye on the forehead of the user. At rest, it looked like a stylized tattoo in the shape of an eye. At the moment of activation, this tattoo began to glow, turning into an almost full-fledged eye, which could be used quite well. And if you kept it in passive mode, using it simply as an eye, then it did not even require a strong expenditure of reserve. But in fact, the ‘Third Eye’ built into the subtle body of the one who used it a complex additional structure.

It increased the ‘ Sensitivity’ and ‘ Spirit’ by an amount of six to two units, depending on the number of available characteristic points in these parameters, and granted a very good version of magical vision with several spectra. But all of this was a minor detail against the background of its main function. This structure literally became the third eye of the one who used it! In the very sense implied by all sorts of fortune-tellers, seers, and clairvoyants from Cyril's native Earth! The gift of clairvoyance, or, as it was written in the help: ‘...to see the past, present and possible ways of the future...’. The natural ability to foresee the future and look into the past, Karl!

Of course, the Third Eye alone was not enough to immediately become a mega-seer, seer, or prophet. It was mentioned separately in its description, even highlighted in bold. But it gave a strong base to those who applied it, allowing them to start mastering this very difficult and thorny path. That is, having barely applied it, Cyril would not be able to predict the future ten years ahead. But to see the nearest past of some relatively (or not too) simple object, to feel the location of the thing he forgot about, where he put it away, or even to know about the arrival of a sudden guest a couple of minutes or even an hour before his visit - it would be quite feasible for him. And the more practice, the more training, the more this gift would grow stronger.

To put it bluntly, for Cyril, the thing was not at all useful in theory and very valuable in the long run, but it was not very suitable. It was mainly because of its characteristics, as for a seer it was more important ‘ Sensitivity’ and ‘Spirit’, rather than magical characteristics. But for someone already possessing a developed gift for clairvoyance, this artefact would give much more than Cyril, enhancing his abilities not by an order of magnitude, but as if not by one and a half times exactly. All this was explained to the young man in detail by Diantrel and Mirael, and the faces of both sorceresses were very thoughtful when they were given a very extensive description of the artefact. And not only them. The queen also became extremely serious and was obviously having some very difficult conversations through her amulet. It was obvious that the armour, so attractive before, had a very serious competitor. But there was still one last-fourth chest left. Exhaling, Cyril opened it with a mental command.

The ‘Spark of Unquenchable Flame’ looked like a tiny but brightly shimmering star in a sphere of clear glass. Like Diantrel's proposed ‘Source of Magic’, the spark could be used to amplify itself or someone else or to create a new source of magic. It would be more accurate to say, not so much a source as a generator. As it is easy to guess, of the hearth type. If you prepare a suitable place, preferably in the heart of the dwelling, set up a hearth there (though any variant of a place for building a fire will do), and light a flame there from this spark, it will burn indefinitely. It can be extinguished by force, yes, but by itself it will burn and burn, giving not too big, but stable source of magical energy. With a fiery tinge, of course.

But if this flame was regularly fed with its own reserve, or with the wood of magical sorts of wood, or with any other magically active fuel, the heat of the flame increased many times, as well as the fire energy it created. For the dwelling of a nature mage with a bias towards fire, it was simply an invaluable thing, capable of turning even an average manor into a magical fortress. And that wasn't all! The longer the fire burned, the better it was fed, the greater the energy output became, and the stronger its heat soaked the entire dwelling. The inhabitants of the house were warmed by it extremely useful, but for uninvited strangers it could easily burn to the ground. Also this heat gradually, slowly but surely, and inevitably burned out of the dwelling, where the fire was burning, any energy, except the energy of the one who lit the fire or his blood relatives. And it was possible, by means of certain rituals, to deprive unwanted relatives of the right of access. And it didn't just burn out magic. All kinds of immaterial beings, various diseases, curses, or priestly blessings - everything was sooner or later burnt out by this heat. No matter if they were good or harmful, only the heat of the Unquenchable Flame remained.

In a word, the thing is useful for a gifted person who is already firmly on his feet, say, the head of a whole clan, who has a strong family nest and could use an additional source of magic. Ideally, the applicants' magical gift should also be fire-orientated, then it would be perfect! Although, the information indicated that all sorts of shamans and callers of spirits such a spark would not be superfluous, at least for its direct purpose, or as a gift to a powerful inhabitant of the immaterial world. There was also an option to strengthen the existing source of magic with this spark, but it was suitable only for fiery sources of magic, such as streams of fire flowing from the earth's depths, or eternally smoldering trees.

And of course, it was possible to ‘absorb’ this spark yourself, getting an instant increase in ‘Power’ from five to three points of characteristics, but with a decrease in ‘Source’ by two or one unit. This was due to the concept of fire itself. The brighter you burn, the faster you burn. At least, that's what the description said. And of course, the spark gave a serious affinity with the fire element, facilitating the creation of weaves of this direction, making it almost immune to ordinary fire and of course increasing the heat of magic in all its manifestations. In addition, there were significant penalties for everything related to the water element. Yeah... And what to choose from all this splendor?

The question was not empty, and the discussions dragged on for several hours. Because even discarding the two options that stood out from the rest of the awards, there were still six more. And each of them was useful and necessary in its own way. A set of armour, if invested with solid money and material resources, could turn Cyril into a combat unit at once at the level of a strong master or a newly fledged magister. Well, maybe not a magister, but a strong master of magic for sure! In terms of magical power and defence, for sure. The blade offered to the mentor in combination with them would turn it into an analogue of a tactical WMD. The trouble was that right now the usefulness of these armour and weapons for Cyril was... to put it mildly, not much. If he were a hero of a classic Asian isekai, with a global quest to kill the Demon King, armour and sword would be MUSTHEV!

But in Cyril's case, and everyone around him has told him this many times and now, no one is going to send him off to fight anywhere in the near future. Or to perform Heroic with a capital H feat. He still had a long time to learn, and his mentor status was the best proof of that. In this respect, a spark was much more promising, honed to create a source of magic, to strengthen the existing one, or to pump himself up. But even that was not very promising for Cyril. He didn't have his own dwelling-laboratory-estate-tower (underline), and he didn't expect to have it in the near future. He just didn't need it. The elves provided him with everything he needed for practice, and at such a level that most of the locals would die of black envy. Plus, he had, as they would say in his native internet, a non-fiery character build. If he had decided to focus on mastering the fire element from the beginning, he would have thought twice about taking it. And so, this spark would greatly limit his development potential.

But the ‘Third Eye’ could provide both the Forest and Cyril with substantial help, even if not directly to him personally. As the queen explained to the young man, there was a specialized clairvoyant among the elven mages. Very talented, a real treasure of the Forest, which they all valued and cherished. Especially because for the sake of strengthening her gift she completely sacrificed the ability to see. This artifact would be perfect for her. And how do you know, it could be that with its help she would be able to see Master's fate and find out if he was alive. And if he is, where has he gone? Not only that, but her sightless eyes could see so much more.

At the end of all the discussions, Cyril agreed with the elven women's arguments, because the issue with the fucking Master really needed to be solved. Because once was enough for Cyril, he still hadn't fully recovered. If he's dead - fine, it is possible to calmly exhale, and further master magic, pump and develop. But what if that bastard is alive and doing the same thing right now? No, that's not going to work! Exhaling, the young man nodded to the elven women who kept their eyes on him and confirmed the choice of an artifact with a mental command. A moment. A second. And then a small glass sphere appeared in Kirill's hand, inside of which floated, faintly glowing, the ‘Third Eye’, which he carefully handed to the Elder Enchantress, whose eyes also began to glow when she began to look at it carefully.

"Amazing... Never in my entire eternity have I seen anything like this... And I can't even imagine how to repeat something so complex... you can't even call it weaving in the usual sense..."

Rising smoothly to their feet, all the elves bowed to the young man at the same time, embarrassing him considerably. Straightening up, the queen said in a polite and extremely serious voice:

On behalf of the entire Forest, I thank you for this choice, honourable Cirialle. Now you can hardly appreciate how valuable it is to us, so I will tell you. Both, the armour offered to you and the blade offered by the honourable Diantrel could be made by our most skilled craftsmen if they wished. Not exact replicas, but perfectly workable equivalents. But something like this. None of them could do such a thing. I'm sure Andarial will appreciate it. If she learns anything, we'll let you know immediately.

Still embarrassed, Cyril only nodded politely in response and said:

"As I said before, I am deeply indebted to the Forest for saving me and all the good you have done for me."

Nodding gratefully in response, the queen and the other elves turned to Cyrill's mentor.

"What will be your choice, honorable Diantrel?"

In response, Diantrel said in a slow and thoughtful voice:

"To acquire or enhance an existing source of magic, or to bestow it on someone certainly worthy of it... To arm a skillful fighter with a deadly weapon... All of this is certainly a good thing for the Forest. But I know all too well what it is like to lose one's own blood, to risk one's eternity for the good of the Forest, and be captured by the enemy. And so..."

A mental confirmation. A moment. A second. An unassuming grey pebble with a child's drawing carved on it appeared in the palm of her hand. Diantrel looked at it for a second, and then handed it to the Elder Enchantress with the words:

"May it help our sisters who act for the good of the Forest to return home by remaining in the shade of the leaves when they threaten to fall."

Mirael nodded in response and also gently took from her apprentice an unattractive-looking but extremely useful artifact. After that, the elven women thanked Cyril once again for two such sudden and surprising gifts to the Forest, and only then they left with them, leaving the young man in the care of the maids. It was late, he should have been in bed long ago and he hadn't even had supper yet. But in spite of that, Cyril's mood was cheerful and uplifted. Yes, he didn't get himself any mega-ultra artifact as a result. But, let's be honest, he didn't really need them right now, considering the support from the elves. But the second level of connection with the mentor, elite properties and minor knowledge, as well as a unit of characteristics - that was cool!

As well as the fact he had definitely earned plus in karma from the elves in general and in the eyes of his mentor in particular. You can't cheat the System! It claimed the progress bar to level three was about a quarter or even a third full. And all this, literally, in one day! Wasn't I good? However, Cyril's positive mood was spoilt by a sudden thought that it was easy to be generous with such gifts, especially if they were given for free. And to make a pleasant impression on beautiful girls. But the young man resolutely pushed it away, making himself comfortable in bed to enjoy a well-deserved rest.

* * *

Having turned off the volumetric recording of the image in which the "Guest" was communicating with the elves, an elderly elf with an indifferently tired expression on his face asked briefly in a dry voice:

"Your opinion?"

Third, who was sitting next to him, with a face devoid of any emotion as always, immediately answered:

"I consider it a definite success. “Guest” decided to donate his reward to the Forest on his own, without any influence from our side. The second time, he also made the best choice for the Forest. Considering the minimal impact, not even reaching the first step, from Sivila and the others, this is a definite success, confirming his loyalty to us."

Then, an unkind shadow crossed Third's face:

"But the mere fact of being able to buy something like this at some... Auction. I find it very disturbing and extremely dangerous. We have no way of knowing what he's being offered or what he's purchased. Surveillance can't guarantee he won't acquire something in secret. And considering that a quarter of the bounty offered to him and Diantrel was of a highly disturbing type... This could pose a grave danger to the Forest."

Enlarging the image of Cyrill as he opened the first of the reward chests, the Head of the Secret Guard continued:

"The fact that he got rid of the offered slavemancer artifact I consider a positive, but it can't be a guarantee given the circumstances in the person of Diantrel, who saw what the Tablet was offering the “Guest”."

"Not the Tablet,” First shook his head faintly, ”but his Patroness, and he said explicitly that the first of the awards was from her. I suppose the second one was too. And that worries me, and makes me realize that I was right not to take him under tight control right after he woke up. But what worries me far more is the very possibility of such... purchases. Since “The Guest” has it..."

“This means that Master may also have it,” Third continued for the mentor.

"Correct. In this regard, I am instructing analysts to reassess the threat and capabilities of Master based on the new information received."

"They have already been assigned, they are working on it, but for a more accurate analysis, we need more understanding about the possibilities of this Auction."

"We'll deal with that tomorrow. The Supreme Treasurer, I suppose, is already aware?"

"Of course. And he expressed a strong desire to meet the "Guests" in person to discuss in detail what and for what amount he could purchase at this Auction."

"As expected. Arrange a meeting with them tomorrow. What about the victims during the chase?"

"They were either fully healthy or almost healthy. One of the elixirs from the Guest was saved for research, and the other two were used to heal the wounded, diluting them with the more usual healing alchemy. Just in case, I ordered one portion to be saved for the Guest. Comparing his condition to the injured, it should be enough to heal him practically or completely."

"Very sensible. Let Geatral do the same tomorrow morning. Speaking of her. Has she and the Elder Enchantress been able to find out anything about these elixirs?"

"Not much. And primarily the fact she has no idea what they can be made of. They are, quote: “...are not liquids in the full sense of the word. It feels like a complex universal healing weave that has taken this form...”

"So they won't be able to reproduce them. As expected. What about Andarial?"

"To say she was thrilled is not to say anything. When we woke her up in the middle of the night, she wasn't too happy about our visit, but when the situation was explained to her and she was presented with a “Guest” gift, she was just stunned. Afterwards, she was almost jumping with delight. I had never seen her in such a state before."

"Was she so impressed by the boost from this artifact?"

"That's not the point," a pale shadow of a semblance of a smile crossed Third's lips.

"This artifact not only enhanced her gift but also gave her back the partial ability to see again, without harming her abilities."

"Is that so? Quite unexpected, but it's very nice to hear such a thing. Perhaps it will make Andarial's character a little less capricious. Bring her in again to search for Master."

"I'll try to organize it, but it won't be easy. You know that Andarial has a schedule for several years in advance, and there are no non-urgent matters in it at all...."

"For such a gift, I believe she will be able to find a window for us in it shortly."

"I understand you."

"And one more thing..."

* * *

After such a turbulent end of the day, Cyril's dreams were also incredibly turbulent, if not to say chaotic. The dreams were incredibly realistic, and they were alternating one after another. Here he was watching a tall and very spectacular woman of gothic appearance talking to some completely unremarkable young guy in the company of a young girl, even more like a teenage girl, with dark hair and green eyes. It seemed like nothing special, but the woman smelled of unquenchable and endlessly long hunger with a salty taste of blood. The guy smelled like he was surrounded by a whole host of different sources of power of different colors. The teenage girl, on the other hand, smelled primarily of something very bad. One could feel a spark of magical gift in her, but it was quite weak. But the unpleasant, putrid, oily taste of something sticky and indelible was much brighter.

Cyrill couldn't really understand what the three were talking about, but it seemed the guy was asking Madame Vamp (oh, just the perfect definition for her!) to help him find out what was wrong with the teenage girl. Specifically, what was wrong with her blood? The madam rolled her scarlet eyes, sighed defiantly, and walked over to her, swaying her gorgeous hips. Her whole look said, ‘what a load of rubbish to waste my precious time on.’ Reaching out, she used the tip of her sharply elongated fingernail to barely scrape the girl's wrist, picking up a drop of blood with it. The most ordinary, red blood. Licking the nail, the madam literally absorbed the drop, assessing its taste and trying to understand what was wrong with it.

In the next moment, Cyril saw Madam Vamp standing on all fours by a large alchemical cauldron. The woman's face was transformed, her gothic beauty gone. Black veins swelled on her white skin, her fiery eyes popped out of their orbits, and her mouth, or rather her mouth, with its sharp fangs was open like a python at a hundred and eighty degrees. And she was vomiting loudly and profusely some black liquid that flowed from her in a thick stream into the alchemical cauldron. A desperately swearing guy was running around her, trying not to let the black stuff spill past it or burn the cauldron.

Once again the frame changed, and Cyril saw the vamp-madam sitting on the floor, even paler than before. She was trembling, and her eyes were burning with fear, mixed with anger and disgust. She pointed her lengthened claw at the girl, who stood motionless in the distance, and wheezed with difficulty:

"Black blood... black blood of the Apostate..."

* * *

The room resembled an elite nightclub where the golden youth liked to spend their Friday nights. But there were no gold or gilded sprouts of power in it. There were several muscular figures draped in tight black latex, with deaf masks on their faces and luxurious peacock tails behind their backs, who, to the sound of vaguely familiar music, danced menacingly toward the group of people. The men slowly backed away from them, holding their weapons at the ready. It was obvious that they wanted to retreat, except that the door labeled “EKZIT” was just behind the backs of the feathery latex figures. In front of the retreating group stood a grown man with a fire axe surrounded by a swirling darkness. A little behind him was retreating, a young lad with a blazing staff. Next to him was a man armed with an assault rifle. There seemed to be someone else in the group, but Cyrill didn't have time to see, as the latex-clad figures rushed forward. There were desperate screams, profanity, the rumble of explosions, flashes of fire, and the juicy blows of an axe against someone's flesh. All this was supplemented by the languorous: “Ooh, naughty, naughty boy! Ooh, bad boy! Yeah, come here!”

The next frame, a group of rather battered people were sitting in the street, next to some abandoned building, with a modern door in the wall, which looked completely out of place. Above it was a bright neon sign that read ‘Right Hole’. People looked exhausted and tired, many had ripped clothes, and their faces were frankly depressed. With a detached face, a gloomy man, who reeked of a sense of dense darkness, plucked a fragment of peacock feather from his bloody axe and said in a philosophical voice:

"Well, what can we do... We went through the wrong door... It happens... What's wrong with you?"

"Architect, you know what!!! Wait... you really don't know?"

* * *

A thickly swirling, suffocating darkness, within which a scalding fire roared and boiled. A few swifts and barely recognizable figures rush through the vast underground hall toward a large troop of warriors, poorly distinguishable by the sunlight around them, which is inexplicably coming from beneath the earth. They were almost there. It was only a short distance away when a predatory tentacle separated from the huge cloud of swirling darkness in a swift rush and tried to grab the last of the fugitives. It covered the last of the fugitives completely, the penultimate fugitive, or rather the fugitive was only partially hit, but that was enough for her. The dark elf, athletically built, with a well-trained body and a luxurious ponytail of ashy hair, screamed and collapsed on the stone floor of the cave. Her protective amulets shattered with a loud crack, reflecting the darkness and fire, but they didn't save her completely. Her left leg to mid-thigh simply ceased to be, replaced only by a charred and smoking stump. The elf's luxurious white hair was gone too, almost all of her head and back had turned into one terrible burn.

She sprawled on the stone floor, her hands and surviving leg bloodied, and let out a scream of anger and pain. But none of the fugitives who had rushed forward even thought to look in her direction. Another scream, but full of despair, from the realization of imminent and terrible death, from the realization that eternity was not eternal at all. A desperate attempt to get up, to save herself, not wanting to die, NOT LIKE THAT! An instant before the unfortunate was swallowed up by the swirling darkness, a barrier of blinding sunlight erupted around her, against which the darkness shattered helplessly, rolling back. Above the wounded woman, a pair of figures in shining armor, with swords and large shields at their naked heads, emerged inexplicably from nowhere. One grabbed the wounded as if she were a feather, instantly enveloping her in sunlight, and rushed back. The second savior rushed after him, covering his retreat with a shield that burned in the blinding sunlight.

A new frame. Several dozen stout and tightly bunched bearded men, with dark skin and ash-gray hair, with very angry and grim faces, one by one shaved off their beards and threw them into a small fire. Many wore bandages and bandages, some leaning on the shoulders of their comrades. It was evident that they had been badly battered recently. It was all happening somewhere in the middle of a huge underground cavern, lit by a multitude of glowing plants and mushrooms, as well as by the flecks of crystals on the high ceiling.

A new frame, a few clean-shaven burly men, a couple of whom had fresh bandages on their arms and heads, were exchanging decidedly unkind words with the rest of their kin. They looked at them literally like wolves, and the small group answered them with slightly friendlier glances. What the conversation was about Cyril did not understand, but apparently, it did not go well and ended well. The group of tough guys turned around and walked away. Some of their kin spat contemptuously in their backs, some accompanied them with obscene gestures, some with quiet but clearly selective swearing.

New frame. A spacious tent with several camping bunks on which bandaged figures lie. Next to one of the bunks stood a dark elf woman leaning on a crutch, her left leg missing above the knee, covered in bandages and bandages, so that half of her face wasn't visible. Her only surviving ruby eye was burning with rabid fire, and she was shouting something with burnt lips at the two kin standing a little farther away. They were staring at her with stunned faces that read amazement mixed with slight panic. Cyril couldn't make out what the elf said to them, but the dark one's kin understood her clearly, and they were blown away as if by the wind. The heavy-breathing elf, whose large breasts could not be concealed even by the bandages, gave them a very unkind look. When they were gone, she hissed through clenched teeth, spat on the tent floor, and waddled back to her bunk. She was immediately approached by an older human woman in light-colored robes, who gave her a stern reprimand on the subject of her disturbed wounds.

New frame. A bright and spacious room with a rounded shape flooded with sunlight pouring directly from the ceiling. In the center of the room, a pair of figures in luxurious white and gold robes stood at a white stone altar, also glowing. A man and a woman, hands folded in prayer, were reciting something in a chant. In front of them, with their heads bowed, were kneeling several stout men, who had already grown stubble, and the dark elf who had been seen earlier. She was now only missing her left leg below the knee, but otherwise, she was completely healthy. Except for a small tuft of blond hair that had just begun to grow on her head, which did not suit her at all, there was nothing to remind her of the terrible burns. All of the bowed were dressed in pure white robes that resembled monk's robes, contrasting vividly with their dark skin. In a moment, the sunlight pouring down from above became much brighter, illuminating the bowed men, and sending a wave of light from top to toe across their bodies. The eyes of the bowed men flashed with sunlight for a moment, and some changed visibly.

A new frame. The same dark elf, with both legs and still short but somewhat grown-out hair, in white and gold robes, stood at attention in front of a middle-aged woman with long blonde hair, cold blue eyes, and a powerful face. She too was dressed in white and gold robes, only the latter were many times more gold than the dark one. The woman was asking the dark one something, and she answered her clearly, briefly, and in an army-like manner. The elf's golden eyes, which were not at all typical of the firstborn inhabitants of the Underworld, glowed faintly. The woman seemed to be asking her about someone...

A moment and a ripple of interference ran before Cyril's eyes, as if on a monitor screen. The frame changed abruptly. Some woman, with huge tits, dressed in an erotic version of a jester's outfit of colorful thin ribbons, covering neither breasts nor pubes. She sat on the edge of a chair with her legs spread wide, exposing her perfectly shaved crotch for all to see. A thick drop of white liquid dripped from her slightly open lower lips, but the woman paid no attention to it. She was rhythmically juggling a dozen large dildos, and she was juggling very skillfully. Her entire body was covered in completely white paint, from her face to her pussy and fingertips, like a street Harlequin. The only exception was her bright red nipples, from which spiraled red patterns covered all of her not insignificant tits. She wore a jester's cap on her head, and her expression was both silly and lewd. Opening her mouth in an “O” shape, she laughed continuously and loudly but continued to juggle the dildos. Her bright red lips were dripping saliva mixed with man's semen onto her chin and tits, and her big tits were swaying excitedly, hypnotizing her with laughter.

The cause of her laughter sat in the chair behind her. A fully naked dark elf whose almost black skin contrasted vividly with the woman's whitewashed skin was clinging to her from the back, one hand tickling her lower chest, and the fingers of her other hand running over the giggler's pussy, but not penetrating it. The dark one's face was eerily smug and gloating. She was tickling the laughing jester woman, but at the same time, she was sucking the cock of a young boy in light gold clothes standing next to them. He moved his lips soundlessly, and his face was a mixture of horror, despair, and deepest pleasure. Cyrill couldn't understand what frightened him so much, but he looked at the giggly lady who continued to juggle a dozen dildos. For a moment, it seemed to Cyrill that he had already seen both the woman and the elf somewhere, just now, but where?

The young man didn’t have time to remember; a ripple of interference passed before his eyes again, and darkness fell.

* * *

The morning of the new day greeted Cyril with bright sunlight and excellent well-being, considering his condition. The young man lay in bed for a few minutes, stretching and yawning. Again he dreamed. Some rambling nonsense that was forgotten in the first moments after waking up. He couldn't remember what he'd dreamt about, except for the image of a nearly naked female jester laughing loudly with an extremely silly expression. It must be the effect of forced abstinence, after the beginning of a rather active sexual life in the company of two beautiful maids. Having stretched, Cyril got out of bed and without any help reached the bathing area, where he took water procedures alone. Though, he would not refuse the presence of Gata or Armina. A back rub. Or something else. But alas, Geatral had imposed a complete ban not only on serious magical practices but also on certain types of joint physical activity. Yeah...

When he had finished washing, Cyril changed his clothes, looked at himself in the mirror, was completely satisfied with what he saw, and left the bath. Gata and Armina were already waiting for him in the chambers, having set breakfast on the table. After greeting them, Cyrill froze in place when he saw his mentor, the Elder Enchantress and Geatral entering his room. Sharp-eyed, the young man bowed politely to them:

"Greetings, honored ones."

"Greetings, Cirial."

"Did something happen?"

Shaking her head, the Elder Enchantress allowed herself a faint but warm smile:

"Nothing bad has happened, honorable Cirialle. On the contrary, we have good news. We have utilized the elixirs you granted us, dividing them into smaller portions and diluting them with more common healing alchemy. The injured warriors, except for a few of the most severely wounded, are now fully recovered. Thanks to you."

"And we decided,” Diantrel picked up the conversation, ”that it would be highly unfair not to leave a portion for you."

With these words, Geatral, with an elegant gesture, placed a medium-sized bottle on the table next to the food.

"Please. The taste is neutral. It is advisable to drink it in one gulp and while sitting."

"Аh... Okay. And... uh. Thank you, I, uh."

"It is we who are grateful to you, Cirial,” Mirael stopped the slightly embarrassed young man, ”The whole Forest is grateful to you for helping their injured children. Please."

Nodding, Cyril sat down at the table strictly in accordance with Geatral's instructions, exhaled, and drank the contents of the vial in a gulp. It tasted really neutral and bland, but it was easy to drink. When he took the last sip, Cyril realized why the healer had advised him to drink the potion sitting down. His head went round and round, his body became hot, sweat broke out on his forehead and his eyes began to double. Someone's voice sounded as if they were coming from another room. Or underwater.

"Cirial? Can you hear me?"

Blinking, the young man saw Geatral's face above him. Her eyes burn with magical fire.

"Yes... hear."

"Can you stand up?"

As he moved, the young man realized he was lying on the bed. He sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, waited a few moments, then rose to his feet.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine... Even good... No, just excellent!"

And Cyril wasn't lying! There was no trace of the heavy weight on his heart, which he had stopped even noticing, having gotten used to it. It was as if Cyril had dropped a heavy backpack full of stones from his shoulders. Straightening up, the young man closed his eyes and listened to himself. Everything was in order! As if nothing had ever happened at all! This is the magic medicine! Cyril honestly told the healer, who walked around him, looking at him with glowing eyes.

"It's amazing... Even though I've seen it more than a dozen times, I still can't get used to it.... The power of the Tablet is truly beyond our comprehension."

"Speaking of ше,” the Elder Enchantress said, ”when you finish breakfast, Cirial, my colleague, the Supreme Treasurer of the Forest, would like to meet with you."

Ooops...

"Of course. May I know the purpose of his visit?"

A faint smile appeared on Mirael's face again and she said in a polite voice:

"I can assume that he was very interested in the access to the Tablet Auction that was opened to you."

"And not only that," the mentor interjected.

"And not only that, but the Supreme Treasurer especially,” the Elder Enchantress nodded and turned back to Cyrill. "I believe the point is that your appearance, Honorable Cirialle, has had a significant effect on his work. You already know that the Forest is not like the states of the lesser races. This is especially true of planning horizons. including the expenditure of monetary and material resources. Your arrival has been... shall we say, highly unexpected. It has forced the Supreme Treasurer to make some serious adjustments."

"I see..."

Uh-oh-oh-oh... Outwardly Cyril tried to keep completely calm, but inwardly a chill ran down his spine. And he had not once wondered how much it cost the elves to keep and train him. But he had thought about it, and it had never gone further. Now it looked like he would be asked to pay the bill. Well, at least partially....

And so it was. After breakfast, an elf in luxurious white-green robes embroidered with golden foliage patterns entered the healers' chambers. He had unusually short brown hair, an aristocratic and impassioned face, impeccable posture and manners, bright green eyes and a polite voice. He was accompanied by a silent, but quite pretty human girl, in closed black and white robes of elven cut. After introducing himself and saying hello, Erandril from the House of Autumn Flowers politely asked Cyril if he had been correctly informed that he now had access to a certain Auction? That's right. In that case, can Cyril somehow provide him with a list of what is offered in this Auction? There are a lot of sections? Great, which ones? Okay, very good. And you say they have a gradation of quality? And what are the most expensive items that you have access to? Oh, so you have limited access to them, then. But do you still have access to them? That's great. And what would it take to increase it? Reach step 20? I see.

In that case, can you provide a list of the alchemical reagents available to you of the highest quality possible? Since you have a limited one, so it's not too long. Well, that's very interesting. How many of these items can you buy? I see, how many of these? Very good. And these? I see. And what is the purchase limit that you can buy? Is that it? But it can be raised? How? By completing the Tablet's quests, accomplishing meaningful deeds, reaching new levels. I see. In that case, kindly purchase these, these and these positions in that amount. Also, I will ask you to refrain from making any other purchases until you reach the twentieth step, and upon reaching it, to choose as your reward the expansion of access to this Auction. Thank you very much for your understanding.

When Erandril's chosen items appeared on the table in front of him, he showed little or no surprise. His assistant, who did not utter a word, seemed devoid of any emotion at all. She simply placed a small flat box on the table, opened it, and carefully put inside all the alchemical reagents chosen by the Supreme Treasurer among the most expensive ones available to Cyril. Even though they were six times the volume of the box. Expanded space, the young man guessed.

After taking the purchases, the Supreme Treasurer thanked Cyril for his time, wished him success in reaching new levels, and left the healers' chambers with his assistant. When the door closed behind him, Cyril breathed out a sigh of relief. The conversation had been extremely polite and respectful, but for some reason, Cyril had not even for a split second thought of objecting to Erandril's request in any way. Not even once. And for some reason, as he left, the vaguely familiar image of Elfo-Scrooge-Duck making the sounds of a satisfied Donald Duck appeared in his mind for a moment. Uh...

"So, Cyrial, are you ready to resume training?"

The voice of the mentor brought the young man out of his reverie. Turning to Diantrel, Cyrill, full of enthusiasm, nodded decisively:

"Of course!"

* * *

The enthusiasm was enough until the middle of the day, because Diantrel arranged a natural stress test for Cyril, in the form of a race on the already-forgotten fifth training ground. At first, it was incredibly pleasant to take the battle wand and staff in his hands again, hit targets and dummies with magic, create barriers, search for lurking enemies, and so on. But the closer the bottom of the reserve, the more difficult the commands and tasks of Diantrel, the more Cyril began to suspect that the elves had decided to take him seriously. Or his mentor decided to thank him in such a way for the uncoordinated changes in his appearance and her arbitrary addition to the Companions. No, that's ridiculous! She can't be so petty, she's a centuries-old elf, not a girl. Isn't she?

By lunchtime, Cyril's reserve was low, he had no energy left at all and the stores of the protective amulets he had been given were empty but, to his credit, he had successfully completed all the exercises. When he reached the observation deck where Diantrel was waiting for him, Cyril sat down at a small table where food and, more importantly, a jug of cool water were waiting for him. After waiting for him to quench his thirst, his mentor announced to him she was more than pleased with his results. Cyril was already looking forward to some well-deserved rest and relaxation when Diavntrel suddenly shocked him by telling him that it was not the time to relax. This is only the first part of the training. At Cyril's cautious objection that he had no strength left at all, the mentor only smiled faintly and said that it was all right, as soon as he had some rest, she would fix it.

After letting the young man recover a little and refresh himself, Diantrel sat down with him at the table together and said in a serious voice:

"Prepare for merging, Cirial. We'll proceed in the standard donor-recipient pattern. Nothing more. Do not attempt to absorb my energy. Allow it to flow through you back to me. First through the outer loop, then the inner loop, until the cycle is fully formed. Concentrate on creating and maintaining it."

"Got it."

Cyril exhaled several times and closed his eyes, gently squeezed his mentor's hands, and began to tune in to her subtle body. He managed to do it surprisingly easily, literally, it was enough to reach out towards Diantrel, as their subtle bodies merged into a single contour, and the energy of his mentor swept over him again. It was as if a bridge had been removed between an empty and a full tank of water. The mentor's energy felt to him like a fresh and invigorating breeze on a hot summer day. The sensations were very pleasant, Cyril could almost physically feel Diantrel's power flowing through him back to her and so on in a circle. Like his mentor had said, he didn't try to hold it back or absorb it, letting it flow freely, though it wasn't easy. He wanted to instinctively absorb this power, to regain his strength, but Cyril held on. And almost immediately he felt his reserve begin to replenish at a good pace.

Oh, how great it is, as if you are driving in the heat in a car with the windows open at a good speed! You want to disappear into the streams of this wind.....

//“Stay focused! Don't lose focus! Keep the cycle going!”

//“Oh, I'm sorry, I...”

//“Don't get distracted!”

Cyril gave himself a mental smack (which his mentor must have heard), but he tried to push away the unnecessary thoughts and concentrated on maintaining the merge. Or rather, on not dissolving into the overwhelming flow of Diantrel's energy. It was not easy, but the more Cyril's own reserve was restored, the easier it was to hold on....

"Enough."

The voice of the mentor, spoken aloud, coincided with the soft breaking of the merge. When he opened his eyes, Cyril took a few seconds to come to his senses. He felt as if he had just become half as much as he was before, but he was still in one piece. Fortunately, it didn't last long. The mentor didn't seem to have any trouble at all. Carefully releasing Cyril's palms, she asked her student:

"How are you feeling?"

After listening to himself, the young man answered honestly:

"The reserve is almost two-thirds full, I feel fine."

"No pushback? No feeling that some of the energy is too heavy, viscous, or sticky?"

"No, nothing like that! No problems at all!"

"Interesting..." Diantrel said thoughtfully, looking at Cyril with slightly glowing eyes. "I suppose it's a credit to the Tablet and the bond it created. Because even with the increased compatibility, alien energy usually takes a while to assimilate."

"Perhaps,” the young man agreed. "Though, as I said, your energy is like a fresh breeze on a summer's day."

"Is that so? I guess it's because of my bloodline's predisposition to air magic. It's not too strong, but it's still there."

"I see. Uh, excuse me, but if it's no secret, how do you perceive my energy?"

"Like the warmth of a small campfire, only without the smell of wood or smoke."

"Oh, yeah? But I didn't seem to be emphasizing fire magic....."

The mentor stopped Cyril with a smooth gesture and shook her head slightly:

"Perceptions of other people's energy are always subjective and individual, Cirial, and are not necessarily related to the specialization of the gifted person. Though it often does influence them. Anyway, that's not important now. The main thing is that you are rested and therefore ready to continue training. Change your amulet drives and let's get started."

With a mental sigh, Cyril nodded and headed back to the fifth training ground, which had already managed to clear all traces of the past training.

"Get ready! Third position, take it, hold it! Let's go!"

And so it went on until the evening, with another short break, during which Cyril replenished some of his strength from his ring, and some of his strength from the storage crystals provided by his mentor. In the end, Diantrel said she was completely satisfied with the young man's condition. She did not observe any deterioration in skills, reaction speed, or quality of his weaves despite the assassination attempt Cyril had endured. He could be free for today, and tomorrow they would move on to the new training she had long since prepared.

After parting with his mentor, Cyril, accompanied by Fiorel, who congratulated him on his recovery, returned to his family quarters, where he was already waiting for a dinner set on the table and literally radiant Gata and Armina. At the sight of his beloved maids, Cyril instantly forgot about hunger, and literally clutched the girls in an armful, taking them to the bath. He so longed for them! The maids instantly understood his mood, and gave him a luxurious bath, taking all the initiative, and allowing Cyril to relax and enjoy. During the bath, the girls took turns to ride Cyril because of which the bath was delayed. Having washed the young man properly, they gave him a massage, where Gata practically didn't use her hands, using only her big breasts, which made Cyril just enjoy it. The abundantly oiled female tits are one of the best inventions of mankind! Everything ended with the fact that the cat-lady lying on the legs of the young man lying on the massage table, playfully wagging her tail, tossed her hair behind her back, leaned over, and embraced the long-standing cock with her lips.

Cyril, who had expected her to ride him, gasped for a moment from the sudden pleasure. Gata began to move her head, simultaneously using her tongue. The cat girl swallowed the whole cock, then wrapped her lips around the head, tickling it with her tongue. Cyril, who was pampered with pleasure and longed for intimacy with his girls, could not hold back for long, and soon, despite the previous attempts, he finished by pouring into Gata's mouth. The catgirl was not embarrassed at all, swallowing the young man's seed completely, after diligently licking his cock, squeezing the last drops out of it. A vulgar thought flashed through Cyril's mind. Fed the kitty with sour cream. It was funny, but he didn't have the strength to laugh anymore. They were enough only to waddle to the bed in the arms of the satisfied girls and collapse into it exhausted.

Almost falling asleep, Cyril remembered that in all the hustle and bustle of the day he had forgotten about one very important thing. Characteristics! The young man mentally commanded himself to put one of the characteristic points into Source, bringing it to seven. It would be possible to increase Power, bringing it to ten, but it was not far off the twentieth level, at which Kirill would receive one point each in ‘Power’ and ‘ Source’. As well as one free characteristic point for every tenth level! So the young man decided to invest both available points in ‘’Source‘’, so at the twentieth level when he rises to nine he invested in it and a free characteristic point, thus bringing two core parameters to ten at once. ‘Control’, of course, sagged a bit in comparison, but it was partially compensated for by the splendid wand and staff, which worked as first-class concentrators and guides.

Having confirmed his choice, Cyril felt the magical fire in his chest with a new force, filling him to the brim. With this feeling, he fell into a normal sleep.

* * *

As Diantrel had promised, new training began the next day for Cyril. The fifth training ground was temporarily replaced by training classes. But instead of new techniques or weaves, the mentor prepared something else. Something she had planned for the day of the assassination attempt. Lessons in controlling internal energies. Seeing his mentor again near the pool and in a one-piece swimsuit, Cyril freezes for a moment, and with good reason. Despite the fact that the mentor's swimsuit made of dark blue fabric was not revealing at all, leaving open only her legs below the knees and arms up to the middle of the forearm, it was quite tight. That's why it couldn't hide the enlarged forms and trained athletically built body, with clear reliefs of muscles. Not to mention the fact that Diantrel was barefoot while waiting for Cyril, strolling leisurely right on the water surface of the pool as if cosplaying a well-known carpenter. For a few seconds, the young man's gaze lingered on his mentor's feet, but fortunately, he got himself under control in time and politely greeted Diantrel.

The mentor nodded politely to Cyril and told him to change into a specially prepared for him swimsuit made of dark blue enchanted fabric, consisting of slightly shorter pants and the local equivalent of a turtleneck. Like his mentor's suit, it was quite tight, but luckily Cyril had nothing to be embarrassed about in terms of his shape. And from possible embarrassment was saved by the ability to control his energy very well. Having changed his clothes in the back room, the young man returned to the pool, where his mentor explained the essence of the upcoming exercise. And it turned out to be just in practicing control and different ways of using internal energies. For a real magician it was as important as to be able to create the most complex weaves. There are situations when life depends on the correct control of internal energy and its application. And, according to her, the pool was perfect for the initial practicing of such skills. To begin with, Cyril had to perform an extremely simple exercise - to walk on water. To do this, he had to concentrate energy in the soles of his feet in a special way.

Diantrel accompanied her explanations with a walk on the water surface in front of Cyril, who was standing at the edge, without hiding his subtle body. So the young man, who was looking at his mentor with magic vision, understood the principle of this technique quite quickly. At the same time, he admired Diantrel's slender bare feet because it was possible to look at them, as they say, without arousing suspicion. When the mentor finished with her explanations and it was time for practice, Cyril was able to walk on the water not at the first attempt, but quite quickly. Thanks to ‘Advanced Fundamentals of Managing and Controlling Internal Energies’

However, the first successful attempts were far from ideal. In contrast to his mentor, who walked on the water so that the footsteps of her bare feet did not disturb the water surface at all, Cyril pressed through the surface of the water a little, leaving behind noticeable circles. Diantrel noticed this, and pointed out the errors, in the form of too dense concentration of excessive amounts of energy. Though Cyrill controlled and managed his internal energy very well for his level, thanks to the knowledge he had received, it was necessary to choose the right amount and density of energy. And for this he needed practice. His mentor provided it for him, time after time chasing the student across the surface of the pool and pointing out his mistakes. Concentrate in the sole, not the whole foot. Yeah, that's right. Now do it again. Good, that's better. Tighter energy, but in a thinner layer. In the sole, not the whole foot! Don't let the energy out, don't waste the reserve! Everything must stay inside. Let's try it. Good, good. One more time! That's good. Now we're going to make it harder.

At first, the mentor saturated the water in the pool with her energy, making it so that too weak or too strong concentration led to Cyril either falling into the water or his foot being thrown upwards from the water, like two identical poles of a magnet from each other. When he got the hang of it as well, the mentor began to send small waves of energy through the water that threatened to throw off his concentration. The first few times the young man went under water with his head when they hit him. And he had to get out of the water leaning on the surface with his palms, concentrating his energy first in them and then in his knees. It was not easy, but in general, it was interesting. The whole first day passed like that, and Cyril got soaked, though the enchanted fabric of his swimming suit didn't get wet. But the mentor, who was wearing a swimming costume all day long, did not even get her legs wet, to which the young man's gaze was sticking every now and then.

At the end of the training session, Diantrel was satisfied with Cyril's results and with a charming smile promised him to make the next exercises more difficult. And she kept her promise. For more than three weeks every day the young man honed his control over his inner energies and mastered new and new ways of its application. Diantrel's arsenal of exercises and tasks turned out to be very rich, and the mentor used it with obvious pleasure. Already on the fifth day, Cyril realized that walking on the water in the pool was not even a flower, but a bud. Although, towards the end, he had to walk on physical waves, as if during rough weather at the sea. And at the same time to follow the changing saturation of the water with the magic of the mentor. As well as the magical waves, surges, or subsidence. Diantrel has enough techniques so that the training does not seem too simple to Cyrill. But still, they were buds. Because the pool was replaced by a decent-sized stretch of marshland on one of the ranges. There was no clear water and the mentor in a swimsuit (which was especially offensive, because it definitely suited her, in Cyril's opinion), and there was a natural swamp sludge, mire, rare islands of solid surface, areas of dark water and again mire. It was very easy to fall into it knee-deep, waist-deep, and even chest-deep. But it was not easy to get out, and then you had to clean yourself from the mud.

And Diantrel, who had changed her swimsuit for the usual army outfit, was in no hurry to help Cyril, only pointing out his mistakes, while she walked beside him on the swamp as if it were an asphalt path. But it was a pity, it would be interesting to look at the mentor in a swimsuit, but soaked in mud. From a purely scientific point of view, of course. But, though vulgar thoughts were chasing Cyril, they could not catch up with him, and if they did, it was not for long, because they were quickly knocked out of his mind by the need to be constantly concentrated and watch the concentration of his energy.

When the young man had bathed in the mud more than once or twice or even twenty-two times, but nevertheless had learned to walk relatively confidently in the swamp, his mentor made the exercises more difficult again. First, the enchanted sections of the swamp were added. Enchanted in various ways, to which it was necessary to select a separate density and concentration of energy in the feet. Then a swarm of nasty buzzing bloodsucking bugs that resembled gadflies was added. The nasty creatures, specially bred by elves, perfectly sensed the slightest manifestations of magic, and immediately flew at them, biting and stinging painfully. They threw off his concentration, and Cyril found himself in the mud, from which he had to get out. According to his mentor, who watched Cyril's suffering with a slight smile, these creatures helped young mages hone their skills of magical disguise. In order to escape from them, it was necessary to hide their aura as tightly as possible, not allowing even the slightest, the most passive waste of reserve or other “ flashing” of subtle bodies. Ideally, it was necessary to completely merge with the surrounding area, becoming indistinguishable in magical vision.

In theory, it wasn't that difficult. Having concentrated properly, Cyril successfully transferred his subtle bodies into the masking mode, reducing any loss of reserve and external manifestations of magical activity to practically zero. And the vile bloodsuckers immediately fell behind the young man, simply circling nearby. But. BUT! It's one thing to hide in such a way standing still or sitting at all. It's quite another when you have to walk through a swamp. Not just any swamp, but an enchanted one! Even just by walking the camouflage a little bit, but broken, attracting the attention of vile creatures. And you had to concentrate energy on the feet. Once again being bitten by a nasty bastard, Cyril realized why Diantrel was so insistent that he concentrated energy as thinly as possible in the sole of the foot, and not in the whole foot. A large amount of energy concentrated in one area of the subtle or physical body was orders of magnitude more difficult to conceal.

Having bathed in the mud again, Cyril even regretted a little that he had invested the second characteristic point in ‘’Source‘’, bringing it up to eight, and not in ‘’Control‘’. Yes, his volume and speed of regeneration had increased quite a bit, which was noted by his mentor. But! BUT! The increased ‘brightness’ of Cyril's subtle bodies became more difficult to hide and conceal. He even asked his mentor if he could not simply create a masking field. Or he could use the protective field he had received, which, in theory, could be easily reconfigured so that it was also a masking field. To which Diantrel, who was watching with a slight smile as her student climbed out of the swamp mud, replied that no. Of course, one could easily walk through the swamp with a special weave and hide from the bloodsuckers with it. But they would have separate classes for that. Right now, they're practicing techniques based on controlling internal energies. No weaves. Because there are situations when any external manifestation of magic can give away the wizard and cost him his life. So Cyril had to grit his teeth and endure.

His mentor was adding more and more difficulties and challenges with sadistic ingenuity (damn, she's definitely getting back at him for inflating her tits! I can feel it!). Barriers that could only be passed through by completely hiding his magic. Barriers that could only be passed through by picking up a certain ‘brightness’ of subtle bodies. Entire sections of the swamp territory were covered by closed fields, where one also had to adjust one's subtle bodies to a certain ‘spectrum of brightness’ and/or ‘density’. Sections of the swamp could only be traveled through with a certain pressure, increasing, decreasing, or almost completely nullifying one's weight. All this was gradually peppered not only with bloodsuckers that smelled magic but other inconveniences as well. Enchanted watchposts emit search pulses of varying range, frequency, power, and directionality. Small flying search amulets enchanted to detect foreign targets in different spectra of magical vision and causing Cyril a strong association with earth drones-quadrocopters. The same amulets, only stationary (hello CCTV cameras!). And he had to adjust to all this. And not just adjust but also fulfill the mentor's tasks!

And Cyril performed them, not from the first time, but still he managed to pass through the swamp by the specified routes, avoiding detection and failures, literally and figuratively. It helped and stimulated his diligence that the System appreciated the new type of exercises, and in combination with the “Intensive Development III”, it paid off. By the middle of the second week, Cyril had reached level seventeen, upgraded himself from “Advanced Basics of Internal Energy Management and Control” to “Advanced Internal Energy Management and Control”, and then, unable to resist spending the talent point he had received, upgraded him to “Developed Internal Energy Management and Control”. In addition, by the end of the first week, he had already obtained the “Basic Fundamentals of Magical Disguise” and the day before he obtained the seventeenth level, they independently rose to the “Advanced Fundamentals of Magical Disguise”.

It didn't instantly turn him into a classic stealth-lurker man, but it gave him a good understanding of how to properly hide from the gaze of others. Even if that gaze is magical. Especially if that gaze is magical! Various variants of hiding magic weaves, from creating closed fields, to forming classic barriers-illusions. Methods of magical mimicry, when you adjust your aura to the natural natural-magical background. Or you hide it completely. Or conceal it partially, or not conceal it, but disguise it as the aura of an ungifted ordinary person - there were many options, and Kirill used them willingly, especially the latter.

Cyril spent the modifier point he received at the seventeenth level to increase the “Healing of Subtle Bodies II” without a second thought. As they say, once you get burned by milk, you start blowing on water. Maybe it was worth buying Physical Healing I, but Cyril postponed until the nineteenth level. Increasing the modifier didn't increase the number of its charges or recharge speed, but it did increase its effectiveness. If the system help was to be believed, it wouldn't cure Kirill completely from Master's blow, but it would cure the same long-suffering Heart Energy Node in two or three uses.

In addition, the System did not give him any assignments during Cyril's treatment, understanding his condition. But now, it seems, it decided to compensate for the forced downtime by starting to issue them literally in a day or two. For the first week, they were mostly small, and related to his exercises in one way or another. No classics for Isekai: kill ten wolves, make five ass whistles. All of the assignments proposed and successfully completed by Cyril were essentially just slightly complicating the assignments Diantrel had given him, or supplementing them with some new conditions. To pass through a swamp or a pool in a certain time, to walk without failing once, to walk without finding himself, to follow a strictly defined route.

The experience for these, in fact, complications of training, gave, to put it bluntly, crumbs, but slightly increased the amount of System currency for the Auction. That's why, after receiving the second portion of tiny assignments, Cyrill decided to spend the talent point given for successfully completing the assignment to increase connection with Diantrel on the purchase of “System Assignments III”.

And it paid off! The next day the tasks became more complicated, they were not simple at all, and, accordingly, the reward also became higher. However, for some reason, the system did not offer Cyrill any resources, talent points, property upgrades, or artifacts even for these assignments, but instead gave him a little more experience and System currency. By the beginning of the third week, having estimated that her student was already confident enough to move through the swamp without attracting the attention of the trackers and without falling through, the mentor began to complicate the exercises again. Now Cyrill had to perform the exercises with his artifacts and protective amulets. That is, not only to camouflage himself but also to camouflage his equipment! This instantly made it difficult for the young man to pass through the swamp he already hated, and he found himself in the mud or bitten time after time. Or both in the mud and bitten.

And there were plenty of masking amulets, but Diantrel was adamant. There may be a situation when they are not available, they are out of order, or the enemy has picked up the keys to their weave. So be kind, Cirial, to practice techniques of direct use of internal energies. This, to tell the truth, he liked much less than destroying dummies with battle magic or reflecting their attacks, but Cyril tolerated it. Especially since system knowledge and a sensible mentor is a highly effective combination, and quite quickly the young man adapted to the new conditions. And with the artifacts and amulets given to him, so to speak, there were no special problems. All of them were of excellent quality and practically did not “radiate” if they were not used. For a successful disguise it was enough not to press all the subtle bodies close to the physical body and compact them there, but to do it at a small distance from the body.

Yes, it was more difficult than when you pressed all the auras and shells as tightly as possible, making them look like thin bodies of ungifted people, or hid them as if you were not even a living being. Since the more space you had to “cover” with your aura, the harder it was to keep the disguise. But still quite feasible. But only barely he master this technique, as Diantrel began to give him specially active “radiating” objects. Amulets infused with magic and literally oozing it out. And again, he had to learn new ways of disguise because his mentor clearly explained and showed him how to act in this or that situation.

You won't always have good equipment that is easy to hide. There may be situations when you have something actively “radiating”, and its energy should not be absorbed in any way. And there were plenty of such things, from all sorts of cursed artifacts to just magically aggressive reagents. Yes, as a rule, such cargo is hidden in special containers or covered with masking weaves. But there are situations when there is no former and there is no possibility to use the latter, and it is possible to act only with internal energy. It was already orders of magnitude more difficult because you had to literally create two separate layers from their thin bodies. The outer, masking, and not allowing any magical energy to get out, thus spotlighting Cyril. And the inner one, which shielded Cyril from his “radiating” load. And sometimes it was necessary to enclose the cargo in a separate cocoon of his energy, so it did not contaminate the space between the two layers.

And that, admittedly, was quite a challenge! He had to watch his subtle bodies to keep track of the bloodhounds circling everywhere, of the surrounding terrain, and at the same time to move around the range, and not stand still! As a result, Cyrill returned to his quarters extremely exhausted and tired, but, surprisingly enough, with not much-spent reserve! However, the latter he also used for his good, every day up to a third of the remaining strength accumulating in his rings. But all this suffering was paying off for the young man.

By the end of the third week, he had mastered and adjusted himself enough, so he was able to move confidently through the damn swamp even with very “brightly radiating” loads, without disturbing the trackers, without falling through, and, importantly, without getting dirty. System currency has already accumulated a decent amount, but Cyril did not even look at the Auction. Even the thought of such a thought did not allow it. It was just worth thinking about it, as the image of extremely polite Erandril appeared in his mind. He doesn't understand, why would that be? There was about half of the experience left until the eighteenth level, and to Cyril's great joy, “Advanced Basics of Magical Disguise” was upgraded to “Developed Basics of Magical Disguise”

After that, life became really easier. It was much easier to hide from the trackers, and less effort was spent on maintaining the right disguise for each particular situation. Diantrel was more than satisfied with his progress, and having made sure for a couple of days that Cyril was already successfully performing even the most difficult runs in the swamp, she arranged a final exam for him. The swamp was turned into a natural obstacle course, which Cyril had to pass unnoticed in full equipment and with a “radiating load”. The young man having finished listening to the briefing, almost had time to give the okay to start, as he received the offer of a full-fledged average assigment, superimposed on this exam.

Attention!

You have been given an assignment. The level of difficulty is medium.

Objective: to pass an obstacle course of the “swamp” type

Conditions:

Normal: complete the route in the allotted time (1.5 hours).

Good: complete the route avoiding detection by bloodhounds and failures on difficult terrain.

Perfect: pass the route with an additional system marker-beacon (in case of failure of the assignment disappears automatically without any consequences).

Awards:

Normal: one talent point and an increase in one of the available properties.

Good: one talent point and increase one of the available knowledge by one level.

Perfect: an instant eighteenth-level increase, one random knowledge or minor knowledge of elite level, an increase to one of the available Companion modifiers, one random Token of Aurial the Magnificent, Supreme Guardian of the Balance of Worlds, Standing Guardian of the Balance of Powers.

After reading the lines of the system message, Cyril turned to Diantrel, who was looking at him questioningly, and silently threw her a description. The mentor quickly ran through the lines and nodded to the student:

"Go, Cirial."

With a deep inhale and exhale, the young man acknowledged the assignment. At the same moment, on the back of his left palm appeared a glowing image of scales, like those with which Themis was represented on Earth. In the magical vision, it glowed even brighter, and in addition, it “radiated” with neutral energy. Moreover, it was emitting very noticeable pulses of magical energy at different frequencies. Concentrating, Cyril first completely muted his aura and then began to adjust the disguise. It took Cyril nearly fifteen minutes to fully form two dense layers and separate cocoons for the radiating cargoes. He spent another ten minutes making sure there were no gaps, leaks, or any other irregularities. Only after making sure his disguise was completely reliable and correct, the young man moved forward with determination.

He was immediately greeted by several insect swarms buzzing, a dozen flying amulet-seekers, two chains of search poles blocking the swamp in half, and the swamp itself. There was no straight path or winding path through it, of course. It was necessary to go somewhere straight through the mire, somewhere on open areas of water, somewhere on small islands, avoiding detection. Having calculated the best route, Cyrill stepped confidently into the black surface of the large puddle at the entrance and walked forward. Not a single circle from his boots remained on the smooth surface of the water. The young man successfully overcame the water. He stepped onto a small island, and from it, he stepped onto a section of mire.

At that moment a swarm of bloodsuckers flew past him, but none of the nasty insects paid any attention to Cyril, who was walking calmly, as if he didn't exist. After he passed the boggy area, where he had to watch not only the camouflage but also to regulate the concentration of energy in his legs, he carefully passed another place flooded with water. There too he had to additionally monitor the isolation of energy in the soles of his feet, because the water here was magically discharged, and even without direct contact tried to pull it from Cyril. And this should not be allowed, such ‘depleted’ by magic areas was one of the methods of detecting uninvited mages. The saturation of magic in such a place increased a little - ALARM!

Not without difficulty, but still having successfully passed the water area, Cyril stood at the edge of the closed field, for which he had to rebuild the outer masking layer for several minutes, selecting the right density and degree of brightness. It was not easy, as he had to make sure not a single drop of magic leaked out. Otherwise, failure! The young man did everything right, but still, when he stepped forward his heart twitched. The field did not react to Cyril in any way, perceiving him under the disguise as a natural part of itself. Having successfully passed the section of the swamp covered by the field, the young man waited for a few minutes until a pair of amulet-seekers hovering in the air flew to the neighboring section. Their variant of magical vision didn't react to Cyril in the calm state, perceiving him as part of the surrounding scenery, thanks to a well-chosen camouflage.

It was a rather interesting trick, designed to deceive those who liked to rely on magical vision. If the amulets had ordinary eyesight as well, they would have easily spotted Cyril, and he would have had to deal with physical mimicry as well. But, as the mentor explained, it was quite difficult to combine these two types of vision in one amulet. It was possible, of course, but very expensive, and not many people could afford it. But they could detect a young man in motion, noticing that part of the landscape had shifted. In theory. Not all amulets had this ability, but they didn't want to risk it, so the young man stood still and watched his disguise.

When the flyers disappeared, Cyril cautiously continued moving, feeling that the strain of keeping his subtle bodies in an uncharacteristic state was starting to take its toll. On the one hand, he wasted almost no energy, compared to his previous training, where he had to smash dummies and other targets. But on the other hand, the constant maintenance of his disguise, the suppression of his subtle bodies, the concentration of energy in his legs, the tracking of his surroundings. Everything was as exhausting as battle magic. Fortunately, it was already a little less than halfway behind them. The first chain of enchanted pillars emitting search pulses was a little easier to deal with than taking cover from the flyers. The main thing here was to adjust the disguise as accurately as possible, so as not to cause even the slightest response. To make the pulses seem to pass through you. It took almost five minutes, but then Cyril reached them at full height, almost at an accelerated pace.

But it took twice as long to get between the poles, because of the signal web. Unlike the other obstacles, it could not be fooled by camouflage. It worked by touch, and it was possible to touch it even with a subtle body. Cyril had to carefully measure his every movement, but in the end he successfully passed both chains of pillars and the space between them, advancing to the finish line. The hardest thing was to adjust to a couple of barriers blocking the last section of the path. There were no special problems with a solid barrier, you just had to adjust your shells so that they would merge with the barrier upon contact. However, the segmented barrier was more difficult. He had to literally squat through one of the cells because it was much more difficult to adjust to the area where several cells were connected.

The young man arrived at the exit of the training ground with less than seven minutes left on the timer, but he felt so exhausted he could barely stand on his feet. As he stepped over the invisible line and received the message that the mission had been successfully completed, he nearly collapsed from the exertion dropping his disguise. He felt as if he had walked not through a training ground the size of a soccer field, but twenty kilometers with a heavy backpack on his back. Fortunately, Diantrel met him on the way out and literally led him by the hand to the already prepared resting place. Having collapsed on the first chair, Kirill greedily grabbed a jug of water and began to drink straight from his throat, forgetting about etiquette. Ufff... It seemed that Cyril had chosen the class “Wizard”, but it felt he had the legendary survivalist class “Bear Grylls”.... Ugh...

"Congratulations, Cirialle,” Diantrel praised the half-dead student, ”I officially declare that you have just passed with honor one of the final exams of the first round of training for Secret Guard cadets."

"Thank you... For your kind words."

"These are not kind words, but a statement of fact, Cirial."

"Uh... Honorable Diantrel, I dare to ask for rest for the next... two days to safely assimilate the rewards. Or better yet, three."

The mentor nodded understandingly and said in a satisfied voice:

"You have more than earned it, Cirial, and it is by no means impertinent. I'm more than pleased with your progress, and I think you've earned your rest."

Diantrel personally brought the exhausted Cyril to his chambers, where she handed him over to the maids and wished him a good rest. The young man had only enough strength for a bath, without any fun physical exercises, and to eat dinner. In bed in the arms of a rather purring Gata, Cyril collapsed completely exhausted, but terribly satisfied. Covering his eyes, he finally got to work on the system messages.

For the usual reward, in addition to a talent point, he received “Thin Body Regeneration II”, which made his long-suffering thin body a little more, no, not more survivable, but better able to recover from all sorts of damage. Which, as Cyril's bitter experience had shown, was not unnecessary. When receiving it, it felt as if fizzy soda had flowed through all the energy channels and energy nodes instead of magical energy. It was very ticklish, not particularly pleasant, but generally tolerable.

As a good reward, Cyril received an upgrade from “Advanced skills of creating basic magic weaves” to “Advanced skills of creating magic weaves”. This knocked him out until morning, and so thoroughly that the young man woke up practically by lunchtime. Caring maids did not wake him up on purpose, and even the curtains on the windows were not pulled open. Cyril had a good breakfast and spent some time evaluating the expanded arsenal of weaves available. There were not so many new variants, but there was much more understanding of the principles of their creation and methods of application. Once again Cyril was convinced that it was not for nothing that local gifted people preferred to call their spells weaves. Magic in Beriadon really had a resemblance to weaving or sewing. In skillful hands, magic was like thread or yarn, from which almost anything could be sewn if one had the skill and understanding of the big picture.

Cyril's lyrical musings on the nature of magic were interrupted by a system message about the remaining reward, which was blinking persistently with an invisible light. Sighing, the young man alerted the maids and went back to bed. He made himself comfortable and confirmed the message with a mental command.

Attention!

Knowledge “Developed skill of creating illusions” has been obtained. The changes will be automatically added to the Player status.

And then Cyril was completely overwhelmed, and he didn't even have time to praise himself for the fact he had prudently gone to bed. Because no previous knowledge was close to the master fucking package of information on the whole separate School of Magic. Cyril was completely overwhelmed, he spent more than twenty-four hours in a semi-conscious state, falling out of reality only to get to the restroom, eat something, and return to bed under the anxious glances of the maids.

As a result, Cyril came to his senses only on the morning of the third day, when the entire amount of information was downloaded into his unfortunate head, installed there, cooperated with the existing knowledge, and only then activated. Opening his eyes, the young man stared at the ceiling for almost a minute, realizing the information he had received. Wow... That's cool, there's nothing to say.

The received elite knowledge fully corresponded to its name, in a few days, in fact, turning Cyrill into a very young, but quite promising master of magic of one particular School of Magic. And at quite a strong level in terms of knowledge and understanding of the specifics of this School. Yes, he was still very strong adept in terms of characteristics, as well as in terms of the rest of his knowledge. A good adept. The kind of adept who would be ripped off if he decided to go freelance. And now he will also be ripped off if he puts up his resume somewhere.

Because the School of Illusions, as Cyril now fully understood, was not just a showpiece for the crowd (although it was that, too). Invisibility, change of appearance, creation of realistic doppelgangers, concealment of separate rooms or whole territories - all this belonged to the School of Illusions. And let it not be thunder and lightning, not all-consuming flames, not raising an army of undead - only a fool who does not understand anything about magic can treat it with disdain.

The pursuit will rush past you because there is no side alley, only a blank wall. The guards will ыфдгеу and let you pass without any questions on the protected object, because who will ask for documents from the boss well-known for his bad temper? An important message will be passed from hand to hand to the right person without even suspecting that this one is not the right one at all. A calibrated blow will hit an illusory double, indistinguishable from the real one, while the true target has already fled in another direction, being invisible.

It is clear that all these techniques were not available to beginners. A student or even an adept of the School of Illusions would hardly be able to create a completely reliable double illusion that would pass any serious test. It may look like the original from the outside, but not in magical vision. It's a challenge to completely copy subtle bodies. And you need to move properly, so God forbid a hand or clothes go through the body while moving. Not to mention the ability to make sounds and the voice must be copied accurately. Attention to detail, in which the devil is known to lie, was critical to this school. Cyril now had a very deep understanding of how to properly create a variety of illusions, which was synergizing with the knowledge he already had. Not a complete guarantee of insurance against mistakes, but now he just at the level of reflexes will not forget to form the weave of illusion, for example, his double, so that he cast a shadow from the sun. It would seem to be a trifle, but as the received knowledge stated, there are no trifles in the School of Illusions!

Very unexpected knowledge. Admittedly, Cyril had expected to get some analogue of Superman's lasers from his eyes, or some other magical ultimatum wunderwaffe. Well, or a packet of knowledge about a particular school of elemental magic that will explain to him how to properly throw textbook fireballs and lightning bolts. But unexpected doesn't mean useless, not even once! Cyril was not going to complain about such a reward at all, there was nothing to anger the Magnificent One (praise her and her golden sandals!). However, the more Cyril realized his knowledge of the School of Illusions, the more it seemed to him... No, not incomplete, by no means! Rather, they lacked... additional... no, more like auxiliary knowledge? Yes, that's right, that's it!

For all kinds of knights of cloak and dagger - the knowledge obtained by Cyril was, if not invaluable, then very, very expensive and would make their work much easier. It is even frightening to imagine what an experienced and trained agent is capable of, who can hide in a corner of the room where a secret meeting is taking place so he will not be seen, or, have exactly copied the appearance and behavior of the participant, take part in the meeting instead of him. James Bond, Ethan Hunt, and even, probably, Stirlitz himself on his native Earth biting their elbows with envy, looking at the opportunities now available to Cyril. Yeah...

The first impulse was to immediately try out the new skills, but a sudden idea stopped Cyril. What if... No, it's silly. But still. It's fine, it'll be fun! Mentally chuckling and finally making up his mind, the young man got out of bed and went to breakfast, greeted by happy maids. After he'd eaten and reassured the girls that he was fine, he read the rest of the messages.

Attention!

Diantrel's Companion modifier “Magic Recovery I” has been upgraded to “Magic Recovery II”. The changes are made to the Companion's status automatically.

Attention!

Received the token “Enhancement of the Companion 10/10” Increases the profile characteristics depending on the class of an ally by an amount from two to five points for an hour. Limit: one use per day for each Companion.

It's not bad, can't say anything! It's a very good addition to the elite knowledge received! A nice bonus, so to speak. Ugh... So, there are still three talent points left, one for level eighteen, and two for the completed quest! What to spend them on... Hmm... Of course, the most desirable thing was to invest them in the knowledge of the School of Illusions, but Cyril was blocked by the block of characteristics. It was unlikely that even at level 20, where he would get a point each in “ Source” and “Power”, he would be able to upgrade his knowledge to advanced. But that was okay, he had plenty of other knowledge!

After spending some time on possible options, Cyril, with a decisive mental push of an invisible button, upgraded “advanced basics of magical disguise” and “advanced skills of creating basic magical barriers” to “advanced methods of magical disguise” and “advanced skills of creating magical barriers”. Not the most obvious step at first glance, but this knowledge gave the most powerful synergy with the knowledge he had gained from the School of Illusion Magic. Having confirmed his choice, Cyril dropped out of the real world for another twenty-four hours, interrupting from “downloading” information from the System's archives only to visit the restroom and have a refreshment. Fortunately, Gata and Armina had apparently explained the specifics of working with the Tablet, so they were not too worried about Cyril's well-being. Although they fussed around him when he crawled out of the bedroom on stumbling legs.

Having recovered once again, Cyril was tempted to take a break, but the young man decided to “finish” the already increased knowledge. He decided to spend the third talent point on strengthening his combat arsenal, upgrading “advanced basics of general elemental magic weaves” to “ developed general elemental magic weaves”, which caused Cyril to fall out of the real world for almost 24 hours while the information was downloaded into his head. The knowledge was loaded successfully, combined with the existing knowledge, and also supplemented by the understanding that Cyril will be able to increase elemental magic in the general version one more time, and further, it will be necessary to choose a specialization, because he does not have a mythical class “Avatar of the four elements”. And he doesn't have a flying furry pet with the capacity of a truck. But nothing, he is quite happy with what he has and receives from his patroness (glory to you Equilibrium, glory, glory, glory!).

Solemnly announcing to the maids that receiving new knowledge from the Tablet was over, Cyril, in the company of a smiling Armina, visited the bath while Gata was setting breakfast on the table. Water procedures combined with another very pleasant activity did not take long, and soon Cyril, refreshed and in high spirits, left the bath, ready to resume training. Having refreshed himself and said goodbye to the girls, he left his quarters in the company of Fiorel, who escorted him to the fifth training ground, where Cyril's mentor was already waiting for him. After saying goodbye to the queen's trusted servant, the young man approached Diantrel and said a polite hello:

"Greetings, honorable Diantrel."

The elfess bowed her head slightly to greet her student:

"Hello, honorable Cirial. Your vacation has been extended almost a full week."

Feigning embarrassment, Cyril only waved his hands:

"Please understand, that gaining new knowledge and increasing the knowledge you already have is not a quick process. I suppose you know that now, honorable Diantrell... or not..."

Checking the mentor's status with the corner of his eye and seeing an unspent talent point there, Cyril looked at her in surprise:

"You didn't upgrade any of your skills?"

The elfess only shook her head slightly in response and explained:

"I decided to save it until I had the opportunity to receive the gifts directly related to the Tablet."

" I see,” the young man nodded, realizing she was talking about meta-skills. "Tell me, while I was mastering the knowledge, was there any news about Master?"

The instantly serious mentor shook her head:

"Unfortunately, no trace of him has been found yet. We are still searching, as well as the rest of Master's pursuers, but so far it has been fruitless. Perhaps he really is dead. But there is a possibility he managed to escape using something he could have bought at the same Auction that is available to you."

The thought made Cyril freeze on the spot like a dumbfounded man. But really, if he had access to such a cheater thing as a System Store, Master could do it too. And his level should be higher... Which means... Apparently, Cyril's thoughts were reflected on his face, as his mentor hurried to calm him down:

"I can assure you, Cirial, that the Forest is doing everything in its power to find him. And the Forest is doing its best. And we're not the only ones looking for Master. After all he's done plenty of people want to find him at almost any cost."

"That's true. Well, as they used to say in my home world, hope for the best, but prepare for the worst."

"Reasonable words,” the mentor nodded. "In that case, may I ask what kind of ability or knowledge you received for successfully passing the exam?"

Smiling widely and looking Diantrel in the eyes, Cyril said in a cheerful voice:

"In a way you've already seen them, honorable Diantrel."

The mentor raised her eyebrows questioningly and asked in a serious voice:

"What do you mean, Cirial?"

The young man standing in front of her only smiled and folded his hands behind his back. At that moment, just a little away from the elfess where the tables and chairs for the observers stood, a laughing voice sounded:

"Exactly what I said...."

Diantrel turned sharply, assuming a fighting stance in one motion, and froze. In one of the chairs at the table sat her smiling student, cross-legged. While another stood beside her, also smiling as if nothing had happened. Squinting, Diantrel switched to magical vision, making her violet eyes glow brightly. She looked at the man standing next to her, and then at Cyril sitting in the chair, and said in a subdued voice:

"Impressive, Cirial. Illusory or Phantom Doppelganger is a very useful skill that is not often seen and highly prized among those who operate in the shadows of foliage, avoiding the light."

Walking over to the young man who sat at the table while the other behind her back vanished into thin air, she spoke in a sterner voice:

"However, I do not approve of such childishness. You may well have demonstrated your newfound ability in the normal way, Cirial. Someone less experienced in my position might have reacted more... drastic."

Rising to his feet at the appearance of his mentor, the young man nodded guiltily and confessed honestly:

"At first I had the idea of creating two doppelgangers, where the real me would walk up to you from behind up close and suddenly say hello. But I decided that it would be, uh... too stupid and too risky."

The elven girl who looked carefully into her student's eyes apparently made some conclusions, and then slowly nodded:

"It would be very foolish indeed, and partly risky. Sneaking up on a powerful gifted person is almost universally considered analogous to direct challenge and insult."

"That's why I didn't do it,” Cyril nodded hastily, ”I just wanted to demonstrate my knowledge and do it in a spectacular way."

Diantrel sighed faintly and nodded:

"I see. In that case, can you tell me what else you've gained besides the ability to create a Phantom Doppelganger?"

Allowing himself a wide smile, Cyril shook his head:

"It is not a separate ability, honourable Diantrel. I have gained full knowledge of the advanced master level of the School of Illusions."

There was silence. The mentor thought about what she had heard for a second, then she said in a slow and wary voice:

"Master level?"

In response, Cyril smiled even wider, looking into his mentor's eyes, slowly spread his hands apart and snapped his fingers theatrically. A second, and another smiling Cyril appeared a little away from him and corrected his mentor:

"Advanced master level, honorable Diantrel."

Another moment, and another copy appeared on the other side of the young man, who took up the conversation:

"Because of this, I missed almost a week, and it took a fair amount of time to absorb this knowledge."

Lowering his hands, the central Cyrill shrugged his shoulders and answered in a cheerful voice:

"But I think it was more than worth the time."

The mentor froze in place and looked at the trio of students with burning eyes, then as if she had guessed something, she turned abruptly to the side and stared intently at one of the empty chairs. Folding her arms across her chest, she made a stern face and said in a demanding voice:

"Cirial."

A moment, the three students in front of her went rippling, disappearing, and another appeared in a vacant chair, with a guilty smile on his face and his hands palms up towards his mentor.

"Прошу меня простить. Но удержаться было выше моих сил..."

The debriefing took the rest of the day, during which the mentor evaluated Cyril's new skills. At the end of it, she said in an extremely serious voice that she was once again deeply impressed by the power of the Tablet. According to Diantrel, Cyril could be successfully certified for the patent of a master of the first stage of the School of Illusions according to the Elven classification. The same Neirat Academy had a slightly different gradation, but even there the analog of the diploma in this School would be given to Cyril. Yes, he still lacked strength, especially sagging “Control”, necessary for maintaining complex and dynamic illusions, but otherwise, there were no complaints.

Deantrel finished her pleasant words quite expectedly. Given his new knowledge, she would have to adjust the training, so that it would not lose its effectiveness. That is, to make them more difficult. For some reason, Cyril was not surprised at all. His mentor also asked him very seriously to refrain from using Illusion magic outside of class, to which the young man, of course, agreed. After all, as he had already realized, the Royal Palace was not Hogwarts.

* * *

The next few weeks merged for Cyril into one continuous training session. Just like classic labor days. Or even a lighter version of the army routine. Rising. Bathing in the company of Gata or Armina. Breakfast. Training. Lunch. Training. Dinner. Bathing in the company of Gata and/or Armina. Sleep in the company of Gata and/or Armina. Day after day after day. Diantrel tried her best to diversify Cyril's exercises to incorporate his newfound knowledge. He still regularly beat up wooden mannequins, but now Cyril additionally used techniques from the School of Illusions. Several times he managed to lure his pursuing foes into a prearranged ritual that left a large group of dummies nothing but glowing embers.

There were also, as gamers of the homeworld would say, stealth missions. Cyril had to sneak into the occupied and guarded territory of the training ground. And there either to organize a sabotage, to eliminate a particular enemy, or to arrange a sudden massacre of enemies. The latter was especially great! When Cyril managed to sneak into the territory of the fortification built in the middle of the range, and almost in the center of it to prepare a strengthening ritual circle - it turned out to be mega cool! It was like landing inside a medieval castle with plasma guns. The resistance of the conventional opponents was suppressed by Cyrill in less than a minute. He only had time to direct his staff in the right direction, hitting this or that position of the defenders from inside. At the same time, he was convinced once again how dangerous a group of gifted saboteurs sent to the rear could be for any fortress.

And all this training was not in vain. Yes, the experience was not as brisk as it had been before reaching the tenth level. But it was still going, especially when Cyril mastered a new method. The nineteenth level was taken. With it some new knowledge. For a talent point, Cyril upgraded “Developed Basics of Creating and Using Ritual Circles” to advanced, because illusions are illusions, but a well-prepared ritual circle decides! In this, he was ironclad convinced. Also in the process of training, it was possible to raise “basic fundamentals of tactics of magical combat” first to developed, and then to “advanced fundamentals of tactics of magical combat”, which improved the understanding of how, in fact, to conduct magical battles. Cyril, of course, would not lead an army with such knowledge, but, according to the same Diantrel, who evaluated his progress, she would entrust him with the command of a strong group of adventurers of medium level with a clear conscience.

He also managed to raise the “basics of working with advanced amulets and artifacts” to “basics of working with developed amulets and artifacts”, and then to “developed basics of working with developed amulets and artifacts”. This improved his skills not only with the staff and wand but also with all the various amulets he had been given for training. It was easier to connect them into one protective network, and easier to make fine adjustments. Everything about working with them became easier and clearer.

Cyril spent the modifier point he received at level nineteen to purchase Physical Healing I, which, as the name implied, allowed him to instantly heal physical wounds. Like the other modifiers, there was a single charge with a recovery of a week. The effectiveness was decent, but not even close to absolute. A broken leg would heal, but a torn leg would not grow back. It worked especially effectively with the “Healing of Subtle Bodies II”, making a good synergy. However, Cyril didn't have to test it in practice.

After reaching the nineteenth level, the experience started to flow even slower, and even the quests not save the situation. Despite the increase in the specialized meta-skill, they now gave not so much experience as System Currency, which had already accumulated a decent amount. But Cyril still did not look at the Auction. To avoid temptation. What if there will be an autonomously working computer with Internet access? And what if it will be his computer? And the elves will find out the history of his browser. That would be a disaster! He doubts they'll appreciate the work of Japanese animators.

However, there were a couple of tasks among the flashed assignments that made Cyril a bit off balance, because they looked like white crows. One of them, a full-fledged medium one, with a good reward, required Cyril to sneak under the illusion into his mentor's chambers and watch her bathing while masturbating and fantasizing about all sorts of improprieties involving Diantrel. After reading it a few times and making sure it wasn't a glitch, Cyril swallowed and sent it to the furnace, despite the promise of increasing his two existing knowledge by one level and one free characteristic point. For fuck it! Although, the very thought... No, no, no, fuck, fuck, if his elves catch him for such fornication, Сiryusha, that's it, the end! And not the one you just thought of!
T.N.

The second similar assignment, which appeared inexplicably from nowhere, required, using illusions, to take on someone else's guise and have sex with any partner of Kirill's choice, but the main thing was that it had to be under someone else's guise. And the partner was not to know that he was having intercourse with Cyril, not with the person whose guise he had taken. Without even looking at the reward, the young man sent this assignment to the furnace, writing it off to the consequences of contact with the fucking Master. He'd probably get those kinds of assignments because that bastard was still alive.

But, as they say, patience and labor will overcome everything. Literally gritting his teeth, Cyril finished the twentieth level, practicing endless exercises on the fifth, damn it, training ground. The jubilation from the level increase was spoiled by the sudden realization that further training in the previous versions of experience will now give practically no experience. To maintain their effectiveness, it would be necessary to change something drastically. But Cyril did not think about it at that moment, too excited about the long-awaited achievement of the cherished twentieth level! “‘Source’ and ‘Power’ increased by one unit, reaching nine and ten respectively.

The sensation of it was as if Cyril had been struck by lightning in his chest and then spread a liquid current throughout his subtle body. He would have even fallen right at the exit from the fifth polygon if he hadn't been held back by Diantrel. Fortunately, the mentor was nearby and did not let the student fall in the mud, and the changes of subtle bodies did not take too long. When Cyril came to his senses, he received a system message.

Attention!

The “Power” characteristic has reached a value of 10! Choose one of the two additional properties!

1. Enhanced Magic. Your magical energy becomes denser, the weaves you create require less reserve while maintaining the same effectiveness. Investing the same amount of reserve increases the power of the weaves you create.

2. Release of magic. Allows you to instantly put up to two-thirds of the reserve into a weave without any negative consequences, with full preservation of its integrity and instant application.

The choice was not the most obvious. The first property perfectly combined with the already existing “Magic in the blood”, but the second gave Cyril a natural analog of a magical ultimatum attack! With his already existing so not a small amount of reserve. If you put two-thirds of it in the attack spell, with the ritual circle, yes with a staff, and properly prepared ... Oh, what will happen? It's not a nuclear explosion, but it's still pretty powerful. Some medium-sized fortifications should be blown to smithereens! Yeah. It's a tough choice.

After thinking and discussing with Diantrel, Cyril chose the first option, as it was more beneficial in the long run. The sensation of taking it was as if his whole body had become very tight and tight for a moment, but fortunately, it didn't last too long. Having recovered a little, Cyril put a free point of characteristics into the “ Source”, bringing it to ten. This time there was no sensation of being struck by lightning, instead, there was a feeling that the fire of magic that had been lit in Cyril's chest since he had chosen the class had been splashed with a generous amount of gasoline. The flash of magical power, the fire that swept through his subtle bodies in a wave, was quickly replaced by the usual measured burning, only now the fire in Cyril's chest was even brighter, hotter, and more stable. And then came the familiar System message.

Attention!

The Source characteristic has reached a value of 10! Choose one of the two additional properties!

1. “Source of Magic” The speed of your reserve recovery is permanently increased by a quarter. Energetic merge with another gifted accelerates the mutual recovery process. Maximum effectiveness when merging between a Companion and a Chosen One.

2. “Magic Accumulator” The volume of your magic reserve is permanently increased by half. This coefficient is retained when you further increase the volume of your magic reserve.

It seems that either the System or its Admins decided not to bother, and offered Cyril the same thing offered to Diantrel earlier. Here the young man did not hesitate for a second, choosing “Source of Magic”. In combination with the same property, the mentor had an excellent synergy, as a result of which the speed of their joint reserve recovery when merging should have accelerated very decently. Even though it was already quite high!

After this decision, the exhausted Cyril confirmed another one by purchasing “Access to System Purchases III” He didn't even look at the updated goods, so as not to tempt himself. After that, with a calm soul, he went to rest in the arms of his favorite maids. The rest - tomorrow morning.

* * *

A strange place that resembled a train station, only futuristic. A trinity of people, one man and two women. And next to it was a strange obelisk, with a very strange power, which Cyril could not find a precise definition for. It was like magic, but different. The same power was felt partly in the man, and to a much greater extent in one of the women with bright red hair. At one point, the second woman, in white and pink armor, carelessly stepped too close to the obelisk, awakening the power dormant in it. It reacted to the woman and began to pull her towards it, to consume, no, fill her...

The redhead reacted instantly, throwing her companion away, but eventually, she found herself in the zone of attraction. Cyril felt all the power from the obelisk rushing into her, filling her to the brim, infusing her with... some kind of knowledge? Why did the process cause the young man to have lasting sensations with the way he was receiving new knowledge from the System? It didn't last long, and then the obelisk couldn't take the strain and exploded.

A new frame, a red-haired woman in a futuristic-looking room, in the company of another woman, with gray hair and wearing a strange costume. The latter examines the former but finds nothing unusual. Cyril, on the other hand, doesn't see but senses a new power and new knowledge in her. And something else...

New frame. A new room. A woman with red hair, already familiar to him, in a military uniform, is pressing another woman against the wall. The one in the white and pink armor. Her arms are raised above her head, shrouded in a blue glow. The same glow envelops her ankles, preventing her from moving. The captive looks at the redhead with a face full of fear and incomprehension, panic in her goggle eyes. The redhead, ignoring this, wraps both hands around the captive's face, forcing her to look into her green eyes. A moment later, the eyes turn black, and then the same blue glow that had kept the prisoner pinned to the wall erupts in them.

The same glow flashes in the captive's eyes, and she calms down. A few seconds pass, and her shackles disappear. With a blank face, she pulls her uniform shirt over her head. Then removes her bra, leaving her naked to the chest. Kneeling in front of the redhead, she undoes the belt of her pants and slides them down, along with her black underwear. She wrapped her arms around the redhead's thighs and put her face into the redhead's crotch, working with her tongue. She throws her head back and bites her lip in pleasure, moaning softly. The new power and new knowledge were clearly to her liking, allowing her to realize her long-held-back desires...

* * *

Cyrill slept surprisingly well after gaining the twentieth level, though after waking up he couldn't remember what he had dreamed about. The only thing that stuck in his memory was the red hair and blue-light eyes. No matter how hard he tried, Cyril couldn't remember anything else. However, very quickly he switched to more important things. After a morning bath and breakfast, Cyril's chambers were visited by his mentor, as Erandril had promised, in the company of his assistant. The Supreme Treasurer of the Forest greeted the young man politely, congratulated him on his success in mastering magic, and praised his mentor. And then, just as politely, he got down to business.

The increased access to lower-end goods pleased him, as did their assortment. As it turned out, he already had a whole shopping list prepared. Mostly it was all sorts of magically active resources. Crystals, powders, plants, animal fragments, and other consumables for magical practices, alchemy, and artifacting. The list was solid, several pages long, if translated into the format Cyril was accustomed to. And to think, everything on that list was on the Auction. From the pearls of a deep-sea mollusk, living at the bottom of magical springs, to the feathers of some birds, which resembled the appearance of the result of a vicious relationship between the eagle and the peacock. When Erandril heard that the entire list was available, he lost his composure for a moment, almost dropping his jaw. But, to give him credit, he quickly came to his senses and began to find out the prices for certain goods. And also the limit of funds available to Cyril.

As a result, in a few hours, with a short break for lunch, all the system currency accumulated by the young man was spent on buying several dozen different items, which Erandril's assistant carefully stacked in her small but completely bottomless wooden box. When the last tiny vial with the tears of a phoenix bird, bought by Cyril, was transferred into it, the Supreme Treasurer also politely thanked the young man for his time, wished him further success, and left, wishing him, with a strange smile, a good rest.

When Cyrill asked his mentor what he meant, Diantrel only smiled and mysteriously told the young man to get ready. An hour later, he left his chambers with the maids and his mentor, not understanding what was going on. Thirty minutes later Cyrill stood on the balcony of a luxurious three-storey mansion made of white stone, located on a rock overgrown with bushes, and admired the surrounding landscape. Below him was a small cove, with a small pier where several white-wood sailing boats were moored. The entrance to the bay was blocked by a pair of artificial walls made of large rocks. The azure water was crystal clear, and the shores of the bay were a snow-white beach. Beyond the embankment enclosing the entrance to the bay, the open blue sea began, stretching to the horizon.

Taking a breath of the salty, warm sea air, Cyrill quietly whispered:

"Cool..."

As it turned out, the elves decided to give him a little vacation, appreciating his efforts and diligence. They allocated him for two weeks one of the mansions on the southern coast of the Forest, which was under the jurisdiction of the Royal Palace. Practically a government summer house! It was as richly decorated as Cyril's former quarters, but larger. To say that the young man was stunned, do not say anything! That's the normal existence of an Isekai! Not all these dense forests, impenetrable swamps, goblins, faggots weighing three tons, and other abominations!

Clearly pleased with the impression she had made on him, the mentor gave Cyril a real tour after they had settled into their new place. Besides them and the maids, there would be no one else on the grounds of the mansion, but the neighboring mansions were not empty. Azure Cove was one of the most beloved vacation spots on the Southern Coast, so there was a long queue of eager guests. It was best to keep meetings with the residents of other mansions to a minimum and to stick to the legend prepared by the Secret Guards when communicating with them. Otherwise, there were no restrictions on movement within the Azure Cove. However, his mentor urged Cyril not to go beyond its borders. Especially on the open sea. Because outside the protective embankments, there could be very dangerous animals swimming around. Cyril, who remembered Diantrel's lectures about the local seas and oceans, did not have to be told twice.

The daily schedule was entirely at Cyril's discretion, but Diantrel asked for two hours a day for lectures, which suited the young man. By the time all the organizational issues of the upcoming rest were settled, the sun had already touched the horizon, and it was time for dinner, which the young man spent in the company of maids and mentor. It consisted, as it was easy to guess, mainly of seafood. After dinner, everyone went to their rooms to sleep. The mentor had separate rooms, Cyril and Gata with Armina were given one for three. None of them objected to that.

Blissfully collapsing into bed, cuddled up with a contentedly purring Gata while Armina finished washing up before bed, Cyril smiled blissfully. How lucky he had been to get to be with the elves after all! Comfortable conditions for living and training, vacation at the sea, personal maids-maids, except without a French accent! Hmm, he wonders if Diantrel brought a bathing suit. Indeed she did! Though the elf did not show it in any way, being reserved and polite all day long, somehow, it seems thanks to the “Mark of the Chosen One I”, Cyril was sure she was very happy with the circumstances. Because, as Diantrel said, this place is a great place even by the standards of elves! That means there are a lot of people wishing to have a rest here, and the queue, taking into account the planning of the elves, is not for decades. And here she together with Cyril got an unscheduled vacation.

Heh, that's another advantage of being a Companion! Unwillingly smiling, Cyril imagined Diantrel lying on a chaise lounge in a swimsuit. Not a local one, but an earthly one.

//“Cirial, would you be so kind as to put some sunscreen on my back?”

//“Only on your back?”

The mental dialogue and frankly erotic fantasy were interrupted by a sudden system message. Cyrill blinked in surprise and accepted it.

Attention!

A token "Awesome Watermelons 100/100" was received from another user of the System. Message for the recipient: "Don't get mad!"

Cyrill lay motionless in bed for a minute rereading the lines of the system message and the description of the received token. And then...

"FUCKING FAGGOT!!! BITCH!!!"

Cyrill jumped out of bed to Gata's frightened meow and rushed to his things, where the amulet of communication was left. Cyrill didn't pay any attention to the frightened Armina, who ran out of the bathing room, rummaging through his things in search of the amulet.

"Asshole... Moron... Bitch..."

"Mister, what happened?!"

Waving away the confused maids, Cyril finally found the communication amulet and clenched it in his fist, attuning himself to the images of the Queen, the Elder Enchantress, and his mentor. He used nearly a quarter of his reserve to activate the urgent summoning weave. Sivila and Mirael answered at the same time as Diantrel burst into Cyril's chambers, dressed in nothing but a silk home robe. The Queen and the Elder Enchantress appeared to be in some sort of joint meeting. All three elven women, one live, two through the amulet of communication, as well as the uncomprehending maids, stared at the young man, their faces twisted with rage:

//"Cirial, what hap..."

Without letting Sivila finish speaking, Cyrill, breathing heavily, shouted out loud:

"Master! This faggot is alive!"

Everyone immediately became extremely serious. The queen, frowning her eyebrows, asked, at the same time showing something with her hand to someone outside Cyril's field of vision.

//"How do you..."

Interrupting Sivila again, Cyrill literally growled:

"That thing sent me a message! Through the System! He doesn't just know I'm alive! The bastard's trying to mock me!"

//What's the message? What makes you sure it's from Master?” - The queen, ignoring Cyril's condition, instantly switched to work mode.

- Who else?! And the message itself! “Don't be mad!” The bastard knows I'm alive, so he's trying to taunt me!

//“I heard you, Cirial,” the queen tried to reassure the young man, “But are you sure it can't be...”

"I'm sure! He also sent me a “gift”, the fucking faggot! It's quite the gift from that brainiac sodomite"

//What the gift..."

"System token! Awesome Melons, damn it! The effect, from the use of which any woman will show me her tits! Who else but Master could send such... crap..."

Cyril's eyes widened and his mouth fell open. Diantrel, who was listening attentively to him, with the same serious face, opened the top of her robe, showing her tits, which had recently reached a steady size ++ D, with bright pink large nipples. Still with the same serious face, she picked them up with both hands and began to raise and lower them, up and down, one by one, or both at once. Gata and Armina, who were standing next to her, also pulled up their nightgowns, showing Cyril what he had already seen many times, and even had the opportunity to fully appreciate. But his gaze was fixed only on his mentor's breasts.

//“I heard you, Cirial. Please calm down. I will report everything to the Secret Guard immediately, you can't make any hasty moves now, it's probably a provocation or...”

Licking his parched lips, Cyril said in a slightly hoarse voice:

"Okay, I hear you. I apologize for the, uh... abrupt behavior. It's just that this message really threw me off..."

//“I understand you. Calm down and rest Cirial, we will contact you tomorrow morning.”

"Good..."

When he switched off the connection amulet, Cyril froze, not taking his eyes off his mentor, who continued to shake her “Awesome Melons” with a serious face. Fuck, fuck, fuck, how did he screw up so badly! Whoa. Stoop. Feverishly rereading the description of the gift from the thrice-fucking Master, Cyril felt his lips part in a wicked smile, and something lower had long since risen and hardened. Well, well, well, well. Walking over to Diantrel, who continued to play with her tits, he mentally chuckled. Some compensation for his failure to enlarge them. Yeah, it wasn't good. But no one would know. Plus, it's not like he did it on purpose!

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to appreciate my Amazing Melons? After all, you've made them so huge,” Diantrel asked in a calm voice, as if she were in class, folding her hands under her big tits and raising them."

The last crumbs of conscience fell under the pressure of one of the greatest forces in the universe. Cyril stretched out both his hands squeezed his mentor's breasts, and began to play with them. She didn't mind, freezing and lowering her hands, letting him play with her melons. Feeling both wildly aroused and at the same time a little embarrassed, Cyril couldn't help but giggle. Man, really awesome melons! Pressing his index finger on the erect nipple, he asked Diantrel:

"May I taste them?"

The elf rolled her purple eyes, sighed heavily, and said in a tired voice:

"Let it be, Cirial..."

Before she had even finished, Cyril moved closer and sucked on his mentor's left breast, engulfing the nipple with his lips and playing with it. Man, that felt so good! The realization of the obscenity of what was happening and the fact that no one realized it was obscene turned him on! For the rest of the time of the token's action, Cyril did not leave Diantrel's breast, enjoying its firmness and the fact that the mentor's close proximity still reeked of magic. At some point, the flushed elf stroked the young man's head affectionately but insistently, also in a slightly hoarse voice saying that that was it. The awesome melons were over. Admittedly, Cyril could hardly resist not reactivating the token, but the remnants of conscience raised its voice until then pressed by tits. Great tits.

When the flushed and obviously also aroused mentor left Cyril's room, he, breathing heavily, almost without saying anything, dragged maids into bed. Gata, instantly realizing her master's mood, instantly put her lips around Cyrill's cock and began to work it with her lips. Incredible excitement from the opportunity to touch the mentor and enjoy her tits played its role, and almost immediately he cum into her mouth, emitting a quiet moan. And when you think about it, the vacation had started out pretty good....

Cyrill and Diantrel's statuses at the end of the thirteenth chapter:

Name: Cyrill

Level: 20

Class: Wizard

Characteristics: (free) 0; (limited) 0

Talents (free): (limited): 0

Constitution: 2

Sensitivity: 2

Power: 10

Control: 5

Source: 10

Spirit: 1

Resistance: 1

Companion Modification Points (0)

Acquired Knowledge:

Oral and Written: Classical Elvish, Free Cities, Northern Theocracy;

"advanced fundamentals of managing and controlling internal energies", "advanced skills of working with external energy sources", "advanced skills of creating basic magical barriers", "advanced skills of creating the basics of magical weaving", "advanced fundamentals of magical dueling techniques with combat wands", "advanced fundamentals of tantric energy restoration techniques", "advanced fundamentals of creating and using ritual circles", "advanced fundamentals of tactics of conducting a magical battle", "advanced fundamentals of working with developed amulets and artifacts", "advanced methods of magical search", "advanced fundamentals of general weavings of elemental magic", "advanced methods of magical disguise", "advanced mastery of creating illusions"

Minor Knowledge:

"Protective Field (Elite)"

Acquired properties:

‘Blessing of Harmonious Magical Development’, “Strengthening of Subtle Bodies II”, “Regeneration of Subtle Bodies II”, “Magic in Blood (Elite)”, “Enhanced Magic”(Power 10), “Source of Magic”(Source 10)

System modifiers:

‘System Assignment III’, ‘Intensive Development III’, ‘Access to System Purchases III’

Tokens:

Companion Modifier Recovery 10/10, Companion Reinforcement 10/10, Awesome Watermelons 97/100

Special: Chosen of Aurial the Magnificent, Supreme Keeper of the Balance of Worlds, Standing on Guard of the Balance of Power: Hidden Effects. Active ability: "Share the burden of the Chosen One"

* * *

Name: Diantrel of the House of Winterblooms, daughter of Edenril.

Character level: 52

Connection level with the Chosen One: 2 (advanced).

Type of connection with the Chosen One: Mentor/Student.

Class: Battle Enchantress

Characteristics: (0)

Talents: (1)

Constitution: 4

Sensitivity: 4

Power: 11

Control: 14

Source: 13

Spirit: 3

Resistance: 4

Knowledge:

Written and spoken: Classic Elven, Dark Elven, Free Cities, Northern Theocracy, Island Kingdom, Southern Caliphate, Undermountain Dwarven, Western Steppe, Central Steppe, Green Steppe, Northern Kingdoms, Ice Isles, Rising Empire (Classic/Simplified), Gem Cities dialects, Southeastern Lesser Kingdoms.

“advanced mastery of martial weaves”, ‘advanced mastery of generalist weaves’, ‘advanced mastery of elemental magic (air)’, ‘advanced mastery of elemental magic (fire)’, ‘advanced mastery of elemental magic (earth)’, ‘advanced mastery of elemental magic (water)’, “advanced creation and application of advanced ritual circles”, ‘advanced barrier and protection weaves’, ‘advanced control of internal energies’, ‘advanced mastery of advanced amulets and artifacts’, ‘advanced ability to work with powerful external sources’, “advanced dueling with magical wands”, ‘advanced magical combat tactics’, ‘advanced magical search techniques’, ‘advanced magical disguise techniques’, ‘advanced wilderness reconnaissance skills’, ‘advanced wilderness survival skills’, ‘advanced magic-diversion skills’, “advanced mago-martial training instructor skills”, ‘advanced healing weaves’, ‘advanced archery’, ‘advanced fencing with one-handed blades (classical elven school)’, ‘advanced knowledge of general alchemy’, ‘advanced agent work’.

Minor knowledge:

"Blink"

Properties:

‘’Developed subtle body III‘’, ‘’Honed reflexes III‘’, ‘’Sense of magic III‘’, ‘’Trained body II‘’, ‘’Sense of the forest II‘’, ‘’Elven health (racial)‘’ ‘Source of magic,’ ’Magic boost (elite).’

Modifiers:

‘Sharing the Burden I’, “Mark of the Chosen One I”, “Magical Restoration II”, “Healing of Subtle Bodies II” ’Physical Healing I’

* * *
Author's Note:

Phew... 54 pages of FICBOOK! A quarter of Avadav's power, just that, hahahahaha...

Ahem. I apologize. So, I finished the chapter, I didn’t divide it. So what's the bottom line? Cyrill finally recovered, started pumping again, got a nice reward from his patroness, and took the first step to the dark side of the force. And, perhaps, far from the last...

The next chapter will be from Master's POV, and after it, Kiryusha will meet an old acquaintance again, and a new stage of his training will begin.

Good to all, especially Avada, without comments and new chapters of which Brinar would write as before, one chapter per month, with a volume of 10 shits.

P.S. Please forgive the typos, I don't have the strength to proofread it properly :(

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Переводчики: Camrad_RIP