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The partner really did intend to screw Sylvia or rather to force her to overpay three times as much. He wanted to share some of the profits with one of Prostirus' relatives, who helped him control the flow of not-so-legal reagents that were coming into the city. Stepan, having given Sylvia the names, appearances, business plan, and general outline of the coming events, was already expecting a new task, because he, frankly speaking, did not see any way to fall out of the almost-existing trap, if not to descend to outright brainwashing. And it is impossible to stoop to it, because nowadays people react to it very nervously, and checks on the actions of one world-famous fugitive are still very frequent and extremely attentive. He'll have to find out more about him, just out of interest in his person.

Camrad_RIP 08.10.24 в 12:47

Sylvia showed the Earthman a master class, writing five letters, sending a couple of messages through her people, and not using a single drop of bloody control, not even in the most minimal manifestation. As a result of her impromptu conversation, the very same Prostyrus, master of druidism, called his kin to a conversation, and not just anywhere, but in one of the public places of Dantmark, a local restaurant with a maximum set of stars, and talked to him about something. His relative listened attentively, looking more and more sour by the second, agreed with something, argued about something, but was eventually put down, that is, let go in peace. A day later, Sylvia's “partner” sharply remembered the slightly disrupted delivery deadlines and even made a discount as a good friend. The old druid, who had held this conversation not in his cloister, but almost publicly, said his word as a demonstrative sign for Sylvia.

Camrad_RIP 08.10.24 в 13:05

And the words, or rather words, were clear and substantial questions for the relative. Does he know how difficult it is to get some very rare reagents, which are produced either by vampires, most often from vampire bodies, or by enclaves of northern undead, or simply only in the far north and growing? Does he know how difficult it is to get access to the sales channels of the undead, which always and fundamentally trades only through a layer of bloodsucking scum? And does he know who will compensate Maestro Prostirus for the batch of dark scarlet roses that died without feeding, before the druids find alternative and even more expensive supplies? As a result, the raider's seizure of part of the streams going through Sylvia was canceled a little, and she herself began to press on her partner, though without fanaticism, just scaring him. She understood perfectly well, the bitch, that it was not only unnecessary but also very harmful to be impudent.

Camrad_RIP 08.10.24 в 16:53

Somewhat amazed, and not in a good way, by the twists and turns of local politics, Stepan returned to his plans enriched with new experience. He also performed other, already systematic, quests, but they were mostly tiny, even those that came from Alpha-Milf. However, he didn't fulfill the latter, just as he didn't fulfill the only small quest that directly concerned the inhabitants of the farmstead, even if they were pretty. He wasn't interested in the new special item either, because he didn't need the reagent in the form of a special grave worm, which could be used instead of bait even for a very strong high spirit, even for free. Still, the worm would have to be kept in deaf isolation and a magical analog of the Faraday cage, otherwise, the spirits would have come themselves. The decoy was not turned off. And, given the specifics of the reagent, nurtured on the flesh and blood of fifteen generations of sacrificed second children of the family that conducted this ritual, then will come to such a call, not those entities that Stepan would even want to deal with without total superiority in strength.

Camrad_RIP 04.10.24 в 20:50

And now, having accomplished a lot of other important tasks, replenished the set of contracts, made two new totems, as well as a few additional territorial spells on the stone hall, Stepan was finally ready to perform the most important moment of the operation “kill the bastard”. The summoning of a senior spirit, so unusual, very fastidious, and cunning, could not be simple by definition. He had to spend so much time preparing to make it simple. Preliminary agreement, sacrificial gifts already brought, just so that the creature would at least listen to the shaman, as well as sending the appropriate messenger spirits, which transmitted the will of the shaman to the entity, and then returned the answer back. This shit didn't want to communicate directly, but the alternatives were either much worse in quality, reliability, or all of the above.

Camrad_RIP 08.10.24 в 16:55

In the center of a rather complex call circle, resembling a sun, but with rays inward, there was a piece of lead. It was not just lead, but some kind of magical lead, which was very inert magically and insulated any magic extremely well. He had to buy the material at the store, for the token had no such material in its stock, only some stone with similar properties, but much worse. The spirit would not even look at the stone, not the right aspects and sphere, not at all. Next, as soon as the shaman takes a position in another “sun” strictly to the west of the bigger sun, he starts the call. The mask covers his face, the exhalation turns into a long chest note, and the note sounds like a taut string connecting the two worlds, Reality, and Spheres.

Camrad_RIP 08.10.24 в 17:03

For a moment, the reality seemed to come in waves, and he was helped from the other side and knocked, so that the shaman jerked almost three-quarters of his reserve into the call impulse, at the same time immediately replenishing his strength with the meta-skill. The fires hollowed out - or rather, grown - in the stone flare up, but there is no fire in them, only light, cold, and calm. In this light, the offerings folded in each of the six recesses dissolve little by little, like sugar in boiling water or fingers in acid, leaving behind an upward-spiraling smoke. The smoke gathers into another spiral, resembling a miniature galaxy, exactly above the piece of special lead, exactly as high as the shaman would be if he straightened up and stopped slouching. In the center of the “galaxy,” a bright spot of darkness lights up, perfectly visible even against the background of the general semi-darkness of the room, this spot seems to represent the door and, if you look with spiritual vision, you can see the characteristic all-colorfulness of a direct tear in the fabric of reality, only controlled and rigidly fixed.

Camrad_RIP 04.10.24 в 20:52

There behind that door was nothing to be seen, only darkness, but that wasn't the reason, it was the fact that the spirit frozen right on the edge of the doorway was blocking it from view. The elder essence, and not a weak one, was not only strong but also very dense, which made it a very unusual task to look through. A moment, a second, another half of the reserve, gone in a new sharp jerk, while Stepan thanked his newly acquired property for the fact that he could now be so sophisticated without risk of injury, and then the black dot-thing falls sharply, flowing directly into the lead ingot. Breathing heavily, the shaman completes the chanting, closing the rift and extinguishing the momentum that had dissipated in the spiritual plane, helping the ++Revealer mask the ritual he had performed. It wasn't easy, it took just enough energy to renew the reserve once more, even part of his life was fed to the preferred spirits, so his life force also had to be replenished with a meta-skill.

Camrad_RIP 08.10.24 в 17:06

In the meantime, the lead plaque seemed to have melted into a liquid state, with the only difference being that it did so without the slightest heat. From the shaking drop of light gray metal, thin needles and cones like magnetic fluid rise up once a second, and at the end, the drop ceases to take its normal shape. There is a moment of tension when it almost seems to the shaman that the spirit will not be able to stay in reality and form a perfect body, and then the shape of the drop takes the form of some insect. The appearance combines the features of a mosquito, dragonfly, fly, and hornet, flowing one into the other and constantly changing. Still, the shaman's gaze looks deeper, much deeper, causing a satisfied smile to appear on his face. If the power of this elder spirit could be calculated using the System's methods, its Source index would be barely a single digit. Ridiculous for an elder spirit; even lowly and insignificant ones have much more power.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 07:27

But this butterfly's stats have all gone into control, power, and resistance, overlaid with a unique combination of exotic properties and suitable aspects. Because of this, this butterfly can become so invisible that it is undetectable by even fully closed fields, up to the highest type. A single scratch with this lead body can tear the aura to shreds and standard methods of countering poison will not help, as well as methods of fighting curses, because the attack of the spirit combines both approaches in equal proportions. This entity is also great at deceiving tracking and defense systems, literally knowing by nature whether a certain place or individual is under surveillance. It can literally loop this observation, show one instead of the other, or simply cut off contact, and the type of observation does not matter, unless it is through its eyes: tracking charms or crystals with recording properties, magical paintings, or druidic plants, the summoned spirit of a deceased great-uncle or his own eyes turned into a necrotic chamber - there is virtually no difference.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 06:56

Five summons, or rather, only one, during which the spirit remains in reality uninterruptedly, bound by its iron body, but five tasks-purposes, which the spirit has agreed to eliminate together with the accompanying tasks. Then the lead insect will disappear from reality, taking the material host body with it. Little by little making it part of itself to become stronger by being reborn in a new form. This entity already has a lot of metal elementals in it, and in time it will clearly become such, retaining, however, some of the exotic properties of the spirit. That's when it will be really scary shit but, at this rate and without systemic help, he will evolve for another couple thousand years, and that's if he is regularly summoned. Stepan, exhaling tiredly, carried the frozen immovable, not even existing in the full sense of the word something on a special shelf, being very careful not to cut himself on the wings or pierce his fingers with a paw. Without a direct desire to cause damage, these wounds weren't really that bad, but testing the limits of one's own resistance to spiritual injuries wasn't something one wanted to do anyway. He nodded satisfactorily and left, intending to get some sleep.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 07:46

The next evening, having previously signed a couple of contracts with strong spirits, as well as a whole bunch of them with minor spirits, the shaman took up the recent summoning. Or rather, he simply gave the command, and then the entity flew off the shelf like an ordinary dragonfly, rose to the ceiling, and flew into a specially opened passage. Stepan lying in the new call amplifying circle, partially out of his body, spreading his arms and legs as if he wanted to draw a snow angel on the stones, looked and felt with his spirit senses, barely keeping contact. The entity saw too much, very vivid and multifaceted, so he had to filter the modes, removing all the unnecessary, which was not difficult but took time to adjust the contact. So, controlling his killer drone, the young man directed the lead dragonfly to the window in Valdis' house, at the last moment spreading a shapeless blob and slipping into the smallest cracks, right through the protective screen, which did not sense the guest.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 13:33

The Earthman, of course, threw images and defense parameters to the entity, and it even took this information into account, but such details simply didn't matter. An overkill in another world is still an overkill. This kind of crap should be sent against a full-fledged master, and in his personal stronghold, and still, the chances will be good, and some adept to kill it is elementary. Well, that was roughly how Stepan deciphered the images that the bored but still attentive spirit shared with him. Yes, exactly boredom, with emphasis on the fact that the task was simple. A very human attitude, which was a consequence of very frequent interactions with shamans, as well as long stays in lead or other iron-metal pseudo-bodies. Obviously, the spirit communicated not with words, but with long and still difficult to understand even for a senior shaman chains of images, but the essence of it did not change much.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 14:29

Knowing the layout of the house they only checked the basement once more. Stepan didn't want to accidentally frame any of the victims. But the torture chamber was still empty. The spirit, which had taken the form of a lead cockroach, crawled, no, not to the office or the laboratory, but to the bathroom. Preliminary observations showed that the target just loves to soak in hot water, and he furnished the bathroom just to the envy of the whole world and personally Stepan, which is still only a barrel of warm water can afford, and that in a common washroom on the courtyard. Crawling into the bathroom, the cockroach changed its shape again and then began to work with protection and tracking systems, primarily those that permeated the whole house, reacting to the vital signs of the owner. The spider-like lead sub-elemental applied its own influence on top of the main charms, preparing to block them, short-circuit them, and prevent them from signaling the homeowner's death.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 14:33

The spirit also found additional tracking artifacts, not taken into account by the general protection scheme, unless Valdis was a fan of recording the process of his ablutions in a tracking crystal, and of a particularly inconspicuous type. Either this individual was even more original than Stepan had thought, or the Magister, or someone else, had decided to monitor the sadist, taking him under a tight cover. Stepan wasn't going to check, but he was sure that the torture cellar, office, laboratory, and bedroom had the same or similar trackers. Otherwise, they wouldn't have been wasted on the bathroom, which was a much lower priority for surveillance. Stepan didn't have to wait long; soon two short and short-haired beautiful maids came to the bathroom, one of them was a boy, just castrated and in a dress. The Earthman had no strength to be surprised. They began to prepare the place for the master's ablutions.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 14:36

Valdis appeared a little later, and with a wave of his hand expelled the servants, who were openly afraid of him, but respected him and revered him unnaturally, making one suspect some mental thing. He promptly threw off his clothes right into their arms and immersed himself in warm water with fragrant oils. Nearby, within arm's reach, there was a small but very loud bell, only usually this individual had been lounging for at least a couple of hours before ringing it. Stepan felt like a pervert, or a maniac of some kind, watching a left-handed man in the shower, but, as they say, what one will not do to restore one's composure and sense of justice. The spider crawling on the ceiling, completely invisible, or rather, camouflaged clearly under the color of the ceiling and hid the energy signature from the modified eyes of the victim, meanwhile, cheerfully shorted out the signal networks and even the bloody control signature. The same life-death beacon that would inform Miller of the apprentice's death.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 14:38

It was unclear whose recording crystals had looped the moment the servants heated the water, but Valdis had not yet arrived, showing the same ten seconds. The signal networks and the sense of life were also closed to the spirit, which decided which signals to let through and output, and which to hold back and replace with others. Valdis had time to laze around for about ten minutes, getting high on how good life was, so he died almost happy. The lead avenger took the form of a hornet, and in a swift and silent motion, plunged its stinger into the back of the bastard's head, right on the border with his neck, causing the dead man to jerk violently, rise from the bathtub, moan softly, and collapse into the water, dead. Instantaneous rupture of the aura around the head and spine, traumatic destruction of the nodes, and complete disintegration of the power veins. He was still twitching, splashing water, still getting that water into his lungs, but it was agony. It was over in less than five minutes, but only for the dead man, but Stepan and his summoner still had a lot to do.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 14:40

The first thing the spirit did was turn into another insectoid thing, crawling along the side of the bathtub, pulling out a long, scorpion-like sting, and releasing a couple of crumbs of alchemical powder. Stepan had purchased this powder from the System and then ordered the spirit to place it inside his body, which he did without spoiling or losing the alchemically active element. Once in the water, this stuff would cause its temperature to rise and boil, which would last at least a couple or three hours. The mechanism of the bath would add new water as the old water evaporated, it didn't even have to be changed, but even with that, by the time the servants arrived and waited for the bell to ring, the sadist and murderer would have a rich broth of shit. And since the bathroom is also isolated by household charms, which do not release humidity or odor, no one will interfere with the process of boiling.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 14:43

//I hope that when the servants see the result of my little revenge for all the good things, they will not have new mental and psychological traumas. - That was all that went through the shaman's mind, carefully observing and correcting the spiritual Hitman's actions when necessary. - “The fact that they, with such a gentleman, already have old traumas, can not be doubted at all.”

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:54

The picture was completed by the last task of the spirit, which flew up on the wall, right above the head of the murdered man, and after pure magic influence, leaving no traces at all, he burned out a beautiful schematic orchid on the stone tiles of the bathroom. Just like the one that hangs over the best brothel in Dantmark, where a venerable lady, who recently, by local standards, had wished to boil alive a monster. Of course, she will prove her innocence at least by oaths on the altar or a mentalist inspection, but there will be more problems for the bastard who saw nothing wrong in supplying the deceased with live meat for his games. After all, they had quarreled only about the price, not about the concept of inadmissibility of entertainment, so let the lady worry at the interrogations, let her sweat. And after the interrogations, it is not a fact that there will be no suspicions about her involvement in such a cheerful elimination. Or that they won't find any other sins, not related to this shit, but also worthy to be killed with special cruelty.

Camrad_RIP 04.10.24 в 20:19

Thanks to the damage to his aura and the general state of his body, no one could say for sure if he was boiled dead or deliberately boiled. The pile of splashed water spoke clearly in favor of the latter, and thanks to the boiling of this water will spread even more. To be quite frank, Stepan was tempted to hold back the blow of the spirit, to make it not fatal, but only paralyzing, so that the degenerate would experience the boiling still alive. It was not even humanity or principles that held him back, but squeamishness and unwillingness to resemble a murdered man. Stepan was not a cliched avenger from the fantasies of young and large-aged mother's cynical avengers, he did not need to torture the murdered for moral satisfaction, just killing would suffice.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:55

A few minutes later, the spirit left the mansion, flew halfway down the street, invisible and inaudible against the night sky and street noise, and then ducked into the attic window, which had been turned into a portal by the will of the Door Opener. When he flew back into the shelter, the entity spun around a little, and sat down on the special shelf, turning again into an inarticulate drop of frozen lead. Until the next order and the next target that the shaman wished to quietly and stealthily eliminate. Smiling with the calm smile of a man who had done a good deed and helped the world to become a little better, the shaman returned to the shackles of flesh and started to get up when he was hit by a completely unexpected system message.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:56

Gained: “techniques for eliminating protected targets”; increased likelihood of intuitively finding vulnerabilities in defensive arrays; increased likelihood of acquiring knowledge and properties of the assassin, eliminator, and agent branch.

Camrad_RIP 30.09.24 в 19:51

The acquired talent is added to the overall Player Status.

Camrad_RIP 30.09.24 в 19:30

Stepan, who began to rise to his feet, said something purely unprintable, carefully lowering himself to the stone floor and exhaling tensely as he began to be filled with new knowledge like a balloon. Another branch of agent and combat work was clearly secondary, derived from the main skill of the very agent work, and this talent Stepan saw in the list of available to take, just did not intend to take. Yes, the most useful thing, and even narrower and more elite than the agent skills themselves - even though the topic of elimination in those very skills was given a lot of time even without in-depth study - he thought he did not need it so much. He wasn't going to play a real-life Kingkiller, and his name was Stepan, not Leto, but, as they say, you never know.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:50

The new knowledge was very extensive and it was not only and not so much about eliminating the target, but about protecting the target. A very significant synergy with arrays and territoriality, only, so to speak, from the reverse side, within the framework of methods of bypassing defenses and finding the only vulnerability that would help to get to someone else's throat. The young man knew that killing a target was noticeably easier than defending it, but now that knowledge was even more confirmed by direct examples. Curses, poisons, spirit attacks, dream attacks, creating envolts, “wrong” healing - all of this was already known to him to some degree, but now he could look at it through the lens of an assassin. Not a spy or a stormtrooper, taking the fortress by the sword, but one who simply and uncomplicatedly sent all sorts of losers on another new adventure, just not in the company of Albus Dumbledore, peace be upon him. Some of the methods were not even admirable or repulsive, but simply awe-struck by the fact that it was also possible. Not as powerful as when analyzing the knowledge of charms and suggestions, but also to the point of flying eyebrows to the back of the head.

Camrad_RIP 01.10.24 в 19:07

A special spirit that is a weak-weak higher being, which sucks on the target's subtle bodies with a barely perceptible touch, mostly staying at the depths of the spheres. The spirit causes only a slight cold, nothing serious, except that it does not go away even after a month or two, but, as soon as you start to treat this disease, as it immediately becomes worse, each new attempt to improve the situation will lead closer and closer to death. And if a farmer who is almost untreated, drinking herbal concoction at most, can walk with a runny nose and morning sore throat until his death from natural causes, then some mighty aristocrat in the hands of the best healers after a couple or three days will be able to exist only if the master of healing sits with him constantly and keeps him alive, and after a week even this will not help.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:46

A special cunning curse through another higher spirit makes any liquid drunk from a cup or bowl, any food eaten from a bowl or plate poisonous. Not by slipping the poison or even teleporting it into that very utensil through the world of spheres, no. Just the very idea of poison being formed in the ingested food, killing the eater and drinker. Well, you'll have to drink from handfuls and eat with your hands for the rest of your days, and only root vegetables dug up by yourself or meat roasted on the fire. There are a whole bunch of other ways to get a drop of poison down someone's throat, despite all the precautions, inoculation of severe allergies to quite ordinary substances, driven to suicide by depression, the suggestion of hallucinations that the victim is not going to the noose, but to the Land of Pink Ponies or the analog of the paradise of the chosen religion.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:47

It could not do without vulgarities, for the Alpha and Omega of Milfinity had thrown in a lot of contracts from herself. How about a spirit that amplified orgasm to such an extent that the victim died of heart failure? If it was saved all the brains were burned out by endorphins, and the mind and the master of mentality would not restore? Or a spirit that sends only work with men's wet dreams, during which the victim literally dies of dehydration, and if the victim is also gifted, the reserve of magic will be automatically transferred to the regeneration of the seed, so that the owner of an extremely large reserve can before death to flood the neighbors below, and not with water? Entity of near-spiritual nature, literally kidnapping the victim into its special pocket, a kind of spatial dimension, where you can do anything you want with the victim, and return only a skeleton, and until the last second the victim will see only what he wants. In general, Stepan suddenly realized that the mark of the spirits of passion as well as the spirits are not so useless and can also be deadly dangerous. In the sense that dangerous even in battle or some important business, not just for the summoner.

Camrad_RIP 01.10.24 в 12:28

The higher, senior, strong, and just a crowd of minor spirits with the appropriate aspects, spheres, and properties gave a lot of flexibility in terms of choosing the method of killing. Especially memorable were the methods of killing someone through a contract, convincing the contract, no matter what type and complexity, that the victim did not fulfill it, and as a penalty to prescribe death, if it was not originally prescribed there. Fun, fun, nothing to take: another reminder to the poor earthling that he will not conclude any contracts with anyone, and if he does, he will immediately remove it, transfer it to some stone, or initially conclude it over the deceptive aura. There were always plenty of ways to cheat death or meet it, especially in magical worlds, especially in such dark and gloomy ones as his current habitat.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 11:41

"And why don't I go to some hentai world without all this?" It was just something he'd said in the morning when he'd internalized the new knowledge. "With my, sorry Ыystem, patroness, I'm even surprised that something like that did not happen. All right, Stepan, I'd better spit over my shoulder here."
поплевать через плечо/постучать по дереву

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 11:43

Having finally recovered and hoping that the Autogoddess had not heard him, he got to his feet, shook himself off, refreshed himself with restored vitality, and drank some store-bought magic lemonade, which was as mild and harmless a stimulant as possible - and whose effect was, to put it bluntly, only slightly better than that of half a liter of coffee - he went to work. He would hardly need an alibi, he would hardly ever hear from anyone about this strange death of a member of high society, but he should still behave as usual that day. No, he was going to behave as usual, but today it was also justified.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:05

He had almost missed breakfast. But to his considerable surprise, when he was about to rush to grab himself a portion, it was brought to him. It was not that unusual. It was often done for the gifted, especially if he was tired, out of schedule, and spent the reserve, but what surprised him was the identity of the person who brought him the food. She was a brown-eyed brown-haired woman with a great figure and a sly smile, which directly improved his mood when he looked at her. She was a master's servant, not an ordinary servant. They all seemed to work in the master's house and came to the yard only for their own business, not to bring breakfast to the gifted staff. And the breakfast was much better than usual: soup, with a lot of pepper, a jug of kvass, porridge with something resembling scrambled eggs with pieces of chopped chicken, a bowl of apple slices smeared with honey - it made his mouth water.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:10

"Hi, handsome, you're Pann, aren't you?" She smiled even more contentedly in response to his slightly absent-minded nod and began putting breakfast on the table. "I was asked to bring you some food, they say the masters really liked the way the work with the mice was done. My name is Nika by the way, nice to meet you."

Camrad_RIP 01.10.24 в 10:21

Stepan, seeing the obvious flirtation in his address, as well as sincere favor and anticipation of something fun and pleasant, relaxed a little, but inwardly he was focused. It had been a hectic night, so any changes in the usual schedule would have to be paid attention to. Though it was nice to see the flirting and obvious interest of a beautiful girl. It warmed his ego, even if he remembered how he'd been burned by such an attitude. That was why he wasn't surprised and didn't even show it when his usual and inconspicuous check of food and drink showed the presence in the ear and kvass of additives that were not the ones he would have liked to consume.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:27

“Well, you already know me by name, Nika.” Embarrassed and slightly reddening his face, albeit from a pent-up anger. Agent training allowed such moments to be used to one's advantage, disguising anger as awkwardness. “Yes, I've already been praised for these mice, even paid double for the decade. I wish I knew what they wanted more than anything else, that they kept coming and coming, but they wouldn't answer. Uh, I don't even know how I'm gonna eat all this stuff, to be honest. You, uh, help yourself if you want.”

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:32

"Can they answer, you know, the mice?" With genuine interest clarified the cutie, casually, but carefully watching him try the food, obviously knowing what exactly she brought. She took a slice of apple with honey, being sure that there were no impurities there. "Or do magicians have a knack for understanding them? And yes, thank you, Pann, you're a sweet."

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:35

“Depends on who's asking and how. Some fur trappers can do it, my grandfather told me.” When he blew on a spoonful of the soup, he summoned a special spirit into his body, which covered his mouth and mucous membranes with a special field that prevented him from even touching food charged with some kind of crap. When the soup was in his mouth the spirit ate it taking it to the world of spheres. “Ooh, it's hot, and they spared no pepper, it made me sweat.”

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 12:43

“Yes, the cooks spared no spice today; I had tears at breakfast.” Very satisfied that the “seasoning,” the taste of which seemed to be hidden by a generous portion of spices, had been successfully consumed by the victim, Nika, however, did not show any sign of it and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. “We are fed, though not at the master's table, but with almost the same dishes. That's why many people want to go to the big house. They pay more and work more pleasant, although more difficult, yes. Sometimes you have to do complicated things, I'm telling you the truth.”

Camrad_RIP 03.10.24 в 09:14

"I believe you, Nika." Smiling, like a boy who has drifted from a woman's flirtation, he speaks in complete sincerity, because pouring an unambiguously bewitching potion into the food of an unknown gifted person is clearly not part of the standard labor package of an ordinary worker. "Do you want some drink, I have a second cup?"

Camrad_RIP 03.10.24 в 09:15

“No, no, I'm sorry, I have to run away, or the mistress will scold me again for being idle.” Well, who'd doubt it? Stepan offered to send her away. But she had no sooner left than the young man poured some kvass for himself and sipped a little. “It's always like this, my dear: as long as you're plowing, as a farmer in the fields, so no one cares, but as soon as you sit down for a minute, you'll be known as a slacker, all the gods are my witnesses.”

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 11:27

They talked some more, the girl munched on the treats almost completely, told a couple of stories from her life as a maid, and was done, only saying the almost classic goodbye, “Thanks for the sweets, bye-bye, see you later see you around.”

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 11:25

"Uh-huh. See you later. Sweet." Stepan said into the void, removing the spirit from his mouth and looking at the food as if it could bite him. "I'll definitely meet you."

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 11:23

Having analyzed the food once more, only with more advanced spirits, he made sure that the alchemical seasoning was added only to the soup and kvass because they had the brightest taste, which would overpower the taste of the potion, he took a bite of everything that did not have additional reagents in it, while his spirits were dealing with the potion. The entity of the water sphere, with its aspects of vapor, poison, mixing, and separation, swirled over the kvass and soup, drawing out all the excess alchemical impurities and salt from the soup, which was used to pay for the summoning. The condensed ball of transparent liquid froze over Stepan's palm, and he immersed himself in his own spirituality, conducting a primary analysis. He had the right spirits, but he wanted to work and practice with his own spiritual body.

Camrad_RIP 09.10.24 в 11:22

A bewitchment potion. It was of high quality, above average, but not elite, and it did not work immediately, but rather slowly, with an accumulative effect that would become stronger and stronger. Immersed in a trance, the young man, who had called in the help of the relevant poison spirits, was dealing with the fascinating task of analyzing the alchemical pattern, completely immersed in the task and giving orders to the suggetors hanging above and opposite the reflection of the farmyard to make sure that he was not disturbed. The potion's effect worked not through the classic sensual sphere and suggestive love-want- desire, but primarily through the body's natural senses, particularly odor. The lightest and elusive conscious odors of the one who added a drop of her blood to the already prepared potion will begin to excite desire, passion, and lust, reduce the criticality of thinking, and increase obedience to the one whose smell will be the basis of the potion. In the end, about a month and a half later, after at least seven, or better ten receptions of the potion, the victim can cum from a single breath, kneeling in front of the beauty spread legs or from the panties pressed to the nose. Obedience of a trained dog, suppression of doubts, and a feeling of complete normality are not mentally instilled, but rather chemical and empathic, due to the effect on the hormonal background and emotional matrix. Getting angry, suspicious, fearful, or doubtful is simply not possible, physically, especially if the object of attachment and its odor are nearby.

Camrad_RIP 01.10.24 в 10:24

In general, quite a normal method of subjugating a lover, quite noticeable outwardly, when scanned magically, but harmless and not even leaving too serious consequences. It is enough just to be away from the object of attachment, without using new portions of the drug, and little by little you will return to normal. If you are not very smart and do not have the habit of analyzing your actions and deeds, you will not even understand why you behaved so strangely. From the side effects, you can only notice the probability of permanent weakening of your sense of smell, as soon as the removal of potion residue from the body is completed, but there is a weakening, not a complete loss, as in the notorious coronavirus. It was a good, decent, high-quality potion, but it should be noted much higher in the price segment than was available to the smiling and cheerful Nika.

Camrad_RIP 06.10.24 в 10:58

Stepan didn't have the right spirit in the catalog of already paid summons, and he didn't want to call it right here, with overconsumption of reserve and the risk of not keeping the magical trace. However, he could work with more than just spirits and summons. Letting a drop of the potion sink into the phantom tentacle sticking out of his palm, he concentrated on reaching for the tint and imprint of the blood of the one who had activated the potion. It's a challenge of the sort of pure spiritual operation and envolt practice, which has little to do with shamanism, but is a very effective means of finding answers. He closes his eyes and opens them again, but now as if looking from the world of spheres, not with real eyes, at the venerable Fanya Borshakl, who right now was listening to serious and not at all reckless fun Nika, at the same time tasting some muffin. He was very offended, not even for such a setup and another attempt at mental subjugation, but for the fact that he hadn't been offered a muffin!

Camrad_RIP 06.10.24 в 11:00

After listening to the servant's report, which consisted of the classic “everything went fine, as usual, he drank and ate”, she sent the girl, who was much prettier than she was, away, and allowed herself an anticipatory and eager smile. Stepan evaluated once again her plump and rather full figure, not the most beautiful and age-worn face, as well as this very smile, and he was offended to tears, but not for long, because this offense was rapidly turning into anger and even malice. He, then, is working hard, killing mice, not causing any complaints, and even overworking for a minimum payment, because his rituals almost do not require the expenditure of reagents. And to him, all so sweet and innocent, this asshole is pouring another charm potion and dreaming of getting fucked. Bitch, at least Truda had the good looks, even though she was the same age, maybe even a little older than Fanya! Three times a bitch, but she's got money, if she buys and uses such potions, instead of spending on cosmetic alchemy and a visit to a healer with the specialization of “master of beauty”, so that all the young snotty boys, as Stepan pretends to be, would run to her bed at the first wave of a finger!

Camrad_RIP 06.10.24 в 12:19

//“Yo, bitch, there's no words, only emotions, and those are unprintable! And the printable ones, there's not enough ink to print them on a typewriter, and on a computer the keyboard will be obliterated!” - Stepan's character is to be very patient with other people's shortcomings, and also to mind his own business, but, alas, only until the moment when other people's shortcomings and business do not come to him. - “Wait, wait, I'll give you such fun, you'll forget about me, and about mom and dad, and everything else, fuck! I'll show you, bitch, brainwashing uninvolved country magicians! Well, shamans.”

Camrad_RIP 06.10.24 в 12:23

Two steps back to the shelter, the shaman, who has forgotten about sleep and rest, begins his work to prepare for the coming retribution. He begins this work, as any good agent should, by gathering information and finding out the origins of the conflict. There was no Sun-Tzu in this world. Or Stepan had not yet heard about their local analogs but the local population clearly appreciated the importance of preliminary information gathering and applied it as well as the Earth strategists. Closing his eyes and leaving his body, the shaman, who wore a protective mask just in case, summoned his mind readers, preparing to send them to every dog in the farmyard. He used to keep his mind above the bare minimum, in terms of whether he was about to be tricked, ditched, and framed, as well as whether his disguise was suspected and peeked underneath. Now the time for ceremonies was past. Now one could afford to allow oneself a cavalier reading of another's thoughts and desires, now the remnants of conscience and tact would be silenced.

Camrad_RIP 06.10.24 в 12:25