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Chapter 3

Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 17:08

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Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 17:08

Now that he knew where to look and what to search for, having almost found himself in the same position and role, it was possible, albeit very difficult, to notice something amiss with poor Nicholas de Lomer. At first glance, he didn't even suspect the boy's brains had been washed with. He immediately took him for a young pervert with particularly specific tastes and a penchant for tall, curvy, and tough women. Anything else simply didn't occur to him, so natural were his thought patterns and stream of consciousness. This could be considered another form of mental suggestion, only directed not inward but outward, at those testing the processed victim. Ironically, Stepan himself was skilled in this. He even used it a couple of times, albeit while processing one of the targets for the AutoMILF's debt assignment; it was just that the suggestion had a completely different structure.

Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 18:35

Here, the work was far superior to anything the shaman could do. Significantly superior. That's why he didn't notice, although he should have suspected something was wrong. Generally, if you see unnatural behavior in someone, you should always suspect mental manipulation. To be fair, even if he hadn't been subjected to the secondary normalization field, he still wouldn't have suspected anything. There were no traces of suggestion, and he'd already encountered so many perversions and deviants in this world that he wasn't surprised at all. But the thing is, he didn't even consider the dangerous possibility, which in itself should have been a warning sign... If only the normalization hadn't prevented the alarm from sounding.

Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 18:39

One way or another, he decided to fix the boy and return him to normal. A more in-depth scan of his memory and mind revealed that the boy was, albeit a rather arrogant jerk with an inordinate amount of arrogance, but that's by Earthly standards. By the standards of local society, he's generally a good boy: kind, sympathetic, and even excessively soft-hearted. In fact, that's precisely why he was destined for the role of junior assistant to his more experienced relatives. His personality wasn't suited to being a real big shot in the Trading House. In fact, this could also be considered a form of mental conditioning, only a more familiar one. Education. His biological mother, who had taken on the responsibility of raising her third child, had long ago placed her bet on her middle son. She didn't need an ambitious and power-hungry competitor to her favorite.

Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 19:00

He didn't want to delve into de Lomer's inner workings, nor did he intend to, but he still felt obligated to restore the victim's mind. He'd fallen into a trap set for Stepan. After two sleepless nights under the influence of potions, no one took him away from his job as a footman and servant to the young Mrs. Singha; he'd managed to remove most of the surprisingly persistent suggestions. They were already persistent. In a couple of months, he'd have to re-break his consciousness, which would begin to perceive a predilection for Ursula's lingerie and simply beautiful, busty older women as the ideal state of consciousness. In short, he was exhausted, perhaps even more so from the need to maintain a triple active filter between his own and others' consciousnesses to avoid catching viral suggestions.

Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 19:11

He'd been certain from the start that something like this was there, perhaps even more than one layer. Since the normalizing suggestion of external resonance was already in place, a more classic trap could and should have been installed as well. Or perhaps he simply didn't know his personal demonic nemesis. In fact, he wasn't mistaken and patted himself on the head with satisfaction, having blocked all three of the rather perverse traps he'd discovered. Incidentally, another "amusing" detail was the difference in approaches to processing the victim chosen by Ursula for the induction of mental influence.

Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 20:09

If Stepan, who arrived with a letter, was overwhelmed by the expectation of seeing exposed nipples, then Nicholas was left with thighs and crotch. Ursula simply crossed her legs again and again, alternating left and right, each time almost allowing a glimpse of her pussy, making him doubt whether she was shaved or not, plunging his consciousness into the same stupor of indecision, illusion, and uncertainty about everything, including the veracity of his own thoughts. And then came a list of suggestions, different but very similar to what she had done with the isekai. Accelerated release through increased sensitivity (and only psychological, without affecting the body), a number of fetishes and addictions, general indecision, and an inability to properly sleep with a girl without climaxing from a few touches or without masturbating in her underwear in front of her, not daring to touch a woman's body.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 20:33

Frankly, as a specialist in a very specific field, he couldn't help but admire how carefully these suggestions were tailored to each other. They were hidden in the deepest layers of consciousness, which is why they were perceived as normal even by far-from-superficial examinations. Even now, they were perceived as such. Despite the fact that Stepan knew exactly the nature and origin of these changes. As a specialist, yes, he admired them, but as a person, he felt a mixture of disgust and apprehension, spurred on by the realization that what had saved him from a similar fate (albeit not for life, but only for a couple of months, according to the terms of his contract) was primarily his readiness for something like this.

Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 20:18

He hadn't forgotten the cosmetics seller either, and he didn't immediately suppress his initial impulse—the desire to simply kill her with a barrage of powerful spells or a horde of hungry spirits, against which her ultra-subtle powers would be useless. He really wanted to, but he hesitated, primarily because he saw no point in rushing into radical decisions. He wouldn't be caught again, and simply killing one of the demoness's victims without trying to help her cast off her beastly veil was simply vile. She was hardly a saint. People don't become rich merchants in this world. While remaining good and law-abiding individuals, they don't achieve any significant heights without establishing a personal cemetery, whether small or large. Such people almost never became such on Earth, despite far more herbivorous and peaceful times! But he also didn't want to pass judgment in absentia. Not when he could handle things differently.

Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 21:02

True, he hadn't even approached her during this time. Time was short, and he was simply afraid. He'd approach her wanting to help, and she'd help him by sitting on her savior's face. Basically, he had to help or finish her off, but either option required careful preparation, not acting on emotion. So he didn't act. He had plenty of internal problems of his own, starting with his inability to properly inform even Singha about the demoness.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 20:41

Because... what should he tell her? Oh, I screwed up, was stupid, didn't notice the manipulation, and ended up accidentally allowing the demonic creature to sit on my face, then join my group, receiving the Tablet in the process? And now she's leveling up, creating lustful traps for me for fun, using the highest level of brainwashing possible? Yeah, right, after this, their alliance will definitely strengthen and become completely unbreakable. Whatever the case, he's settled the matter with the demoness for the next six months, and then we'll see, since he's not going to sit idly by. And he'd better actually come up with a working plan, otherwise his punishment will turn the scum so rabid that it's already becoming a bit scary.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 20:52

Instead, Stepan took on the far more boring duties of an adjutant, while attempting to establish a decent surveillance network around the home of a respectable and deadly cosmetics saleswoman. So far, things weren't going so well, as it wasn't a matter of a couple of hours, but at least two or three days, and with full personal involvement. Well, if you do it really well, the way you're used to, so that the intelligence knowledge you've ingrained in your head doesn't reveal any obvious weaknesses in the surveillance network you're creating. Ultimately, it was limited to a relatively superficial layer of surveillance, and the breach of most of the security on her estate.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 20:54

The entire estate, except for the bedroom. The bedroom turned out to be so incredibly well-protected that the shaman began to suspect all sorts of things. First and foremost, the creature, while creating a trap for poor Stepan out of Ursula, had cheated a bit and left part of her "auric noise" structure under external control. Roughly speaking, somewhere there, in her chambers, could be hiding the thing that helps Ursula's aura and spiritual body transform into a monstrously invisible and penetrating suggestive resonator. No, seriously! Just being near her, within the strange field of influence, was a real risk, practically a guarantee of falling under her influence.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 20:56

On the one hand, it was even amusing and certainly interesting from a professional standpoint. He wanted to study the effect and thoroughly understand its nature, learning to defend himself as reliably as possible. On the other hand, it was becoming a little scary, frankly. Somewhere around the fourth day after his own visit to Ursula, after he had already "cured" poor Nicholas, he witnessed yet another manifestation of this very same super-perverted superpower of super-Ursula. The victim turned out to be one of her employees, a young alchemist apprentice, somewhat vaguely resembling Stepan, specializing in cosmetics. Or rather, to be honest, he was more concerned with packaging and testing the finished cosmetics, the secrets of which no one had ever shared with him or his aging teacher.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 07:31

The physical resemblance, by the way, is also very telling. It's as if Ursula was initially set up to hit on any not-so-ugly young man who met certain criteria. This should have required a lot of serious thought, but instead, he had to think about something completely different, or not think about it at all. Literally, yes. Stepan witnessed, directly observing through the spirits, how a guy who entered the office he was inspecting was, a couple of minutes later, already jerking off on the boots of his respectable employer. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her dress, which was lifted slightly, then lowered. Overall, it was quite similar to how she acted with the shaman. So similar, in fact, that he didn't even notice what was happening. Again, literally.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 07:35

Only toward evening, as he was about to go to bed, habitually checking himself for all possible influences, including those he'd already experienced, did he... again notice and perceive nothing. The spirits did, the very spirits that evaluate reactions to individual situations against a standard and pester Stepan when that standard is violated. Fortunately, he reacted as needed and just in time, even before he had a chance to replay the scene recorded on the glass in Ursula's office window for the third time. Only the demonic scum knew what effect was being channeled through his own spirit, but he didn't want to find out. The trick was good, downright brilliant. The training and experience of centuries of such confrontation was evident. The demoness knew she would be confronting a shaman, knew exactly how he was accustomed to working and the approximate file of his spirits, and so she had prepared the appropriate countermeasures.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 07:37

The observer spirit, embedded in the glass and inhabiting the material, transmitted exactly what it saw, including some of the "auric noise," primarily that tied to normalization and suppression of attention. Perhaps there was something else, but the shaman didn't bother checking, breaking contact with the spirit and the contract with it, paying the satisfied entity a penalty, even a little extra. He decided not to engage with the cosmetics businesswoman until he could snatch at least a couple of days off and create a proper dome. First, play it safe, conduct trial runs and tests, and only then create a personalized cocoon of observing spirits and resident spells.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 07:40

So Ursula remained, indulging her workers and all sorts of guests in humiliating and not-so-indecent acts, while Stepan returned to his work duties. It wasn't exactly difficult, more like simply boring, oppressive, and pointless. He unexpectedly realized that right now, right within him, he possessed the very same arrogance of high-ranking mages. It was just a slightly distorted form, shaped by his habits and mentality, but it was there nonetheless. He didn't feel any particular sense of humiliation from being forced to work as a servant, but he also realized that his time, his energy, his efforts were simply worth more.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 21:25

Every shopping trip, every time he accompanied Singha to visit acquaintances or friends, every wasted hour lashed him with regret for lost time. Regret for all he could have done, all he could have achieved, if he hadn't wasted his days and evenings on this bullshit. All those levels, the knowledge he'd gained, the rewards for decent quests—all of it weighed heavily on his mind, drowning Stepan in regret and irritation. It would have been difficult, but he was generally accustomed to suppressing his negative feelings—he'd studied with Rodislav Gastoldovich Yanin, after all!—and the reward, the real reward for playing the quest, was worth even worse inconveniences. So the shaman's emotions and attitude weren't even evident on his face or in his emotional background.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 21:45

He even met his young mistress's younger brother. And in a completely idiotic way, almost like he had with Singha herself, only on a smaller scale. The blood relationship was immediately obvious; there was no denying it! Stepan knew perfectly well that Singha was only one of Maega's two children, and that there was also a second child—an heir no longer hers, but Urvag's. It was just that Urvag and Stepan rarely crossed paths; he lived in the children's wing of the estate, had his own nannies and assigned teachers, so their paths simply never crossed. No, the shaman saw him, but mostly from afar, or passing in the corridors, never even striking up a conversation. And what was there to talk about with a ten-year-old brat?

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 06:08

It's not like Stepan's much older than that brat, come to think of it. But he's started acting like a wise old man. Any minute now, and he'll be smashing everyone he doesn't like with a shovel! Although little Ullis wouldn't have been immune to being knocked out, if not with a shovel, then a child's shovel, for digging in a sandbox. This young but already very experienced lemming managed to dig out a household amulet-heater from somewhere, most likely from the bathroom, literally digging out a piece of power-imbued quartz. And he couldn't think of anything cleverer than to hide it in his own "fling," a sort of soft ball, half-empty and half-filled with a light, porous alchemical material. It was simply one of hundreds of toys at his disposal—his mom, dad, and everyone around him constantly spoiled this young and amazingly cute child.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 06:30

So he walked around, throwing his toy at the ceiling, exhausted by the angry adults who demanded he learn boring arithmetic and other adult things. In fact, the boy's educational program was complex and on par with that of a full-fledged high aristocrat. Even if the specifics of the future head of perhaps the largest branch of the Trading House were completely different. The boy, if you think about it, didn't even have much time for games. Even the games themselves were just another lesson in developing agility, reaction time, or fine motor skills. That's why they didn't take away his toy ball, that's why they allowed him to play with it while they walked from the classroom, where he was learning the world of debits and credits, to the training ground—let him practice his coordination.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 10:36

This coordination would come in handy when they started "chasing him along the lines" again, teaching him the skills of dance (or working with a sword or a combat wand, since these movements are traditionally added to the dance foundation for slightly older golden children). Stepan, returning from a short lunch break, was lost in his thoughts, but he reacted to the ball with the amulet inside, which began to resonate slightly in his magical perception. To the credit of the boy's companions, they also began to notice the heating element heating up, but their sensitivity was lower.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 10:28

The shaman, without thinking, using pure reflexes—earthly ones, the kind that compel him to pull a tiny human larva from under the wheels of a car—stepped forward, snatched the ill-fated ball from the boy's hands, tossed it behind him, and placed himself between the little one and the explosion. The blast wasn't loud, but the quartz shards could have cut him to the bone if Stae hadn't used the "crumbs" of his available witchcraft and shielded himself with a protective charm.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 06:32

"Oh," the boy suddenly squeaked, having understood everything, anticipating his father's whipping for nearly ruining his father with what his mother would later say to him for the child's injuries.

Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 17:13

"Ouch." That's all Ste said, which livery vest will now definitely have to be replaced with a less holey one, because he only protected the skin.

Camrad_RIP 28.01.26 в 17:15

"Fuck!" the young gentleman's guard exhaled hoarsely, removing the enchanted dagger from the throat of the frozen "in fright" Stae, feeling a cold sweat run down his back at the thought of what Urvag might do to him if the boy were injured or even killed. "You, uh, thank you, yeah."

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 06:43

Incidentally, he's also teaching the boy rhetoric, belles-lettres, and academic Neirat, a Latin equivalent. It's just that at that moment, the man had no more appropriate words. The man who nearly died from being devoured by a pack of battle spirits, because the shaman only stopped his own blow at the last second. Understandably, he reacted to the threat to his client, seeing Stae as a vile and treacherous killer, but that didn't make it any easier for either of them to restrain their reflexes. That same evening, Uncle Kovacs Lerkos gave Stae a brand-new belt knife with an ornate handle. Urvag would have given something too, had he known what Stepan could get, so he had to settle for a promise to teach his son the proper handling of amulets, both household and otherwise. They found new clothes for Ste by morning and even tailored them to the earthling's measurements.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 06:47

It was after this that Master Lavis's attitude toward the shaman changed once again. He now not only couldn't get enough of his new employee, but he gradually began to assign him slightly more complex tasks, requiring recognition that Stae had some kind of brain. And he even learned to put that brain to good use. He was tasked with participating in sacrifices to the Goddess of Fertility. De Lomer, like most bigwigs in general, often made such sacrifices, sometimes sincerely, sometimes not so much.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 07:13

Firstly, it was genuinely helpful. If you needed serious assistance from the temples and priests, they would honor all your donations, offering a substantial discount, or, conversely, they would remember their stinginess and jack up the price. Secondly, everyone loved to pay their respects to the Life-Giver, as Stepan knew from countless sources. He wouldn't be surprised if the favor of this goddess of life, birth, bread, harvest, and the process that allows life to emerge was enjoyed by the most chthonic peoples of the deep Underground, the Cthulhuites, or deep-sea fish-people, who dwell on the seafloor. Thirdly, the donations weren't exactly enormous, but rather symbolic, demonstrating favor with a particular temple or priestess.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 07:42

Those same merchants are generally much more willing to pray to Damokar, the Oathkeeper, because it is on his altars, where the most important and complex oaths are sworn, that the lion's share of local trade, magical practice, and even statehood rests. So it's not just the merchants who worship the Keeper, but also the aristocracy, those very same Noble Houses with Coat of Arms. Mages don't worship him, not in the full sense of the word, but they also pay homage, availing themselves of the services of His clergy. Although not without exceptions, like that same Neirat, whose main oath—that very bond of shared blood and shared cooperation without spilling excessive amounts of that blood—is created without any, even the slightest, divine assistance. Only classical magic, on an equally classical oath-anchored altar, is cherished more than their libraries.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 07:59

House de Lomer also reveres Damokar (or Daromar, depending on pronunciation and region), arguably one of the primary, if not primary, objects of worship in the Confederation of Free Cities. Well, among the upper crust of those Free Cities, of course. But Gaia, the Giver of Life, is not forgotten in small matters either. Both children of Urvag and Maega were carried, conceived, and born under Her grace. The challenges of bearing a fetus, conceiving it, and recovering from it are common for gifted people, and for those like this steppe family, even more so. Their chance for continuing the dynasty is essentially one, tied to their firstborn, and only that one. In short, the House of Urvag remembered the help of the priestesses and a couple of relics, both their own and those borrowed from the temple, and so offerings were made frequently and sincerely.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 08:04

But also with an understanding of traditions. The couple themselves rarely set foot under the temple's cloak; it was a matter of reputation. If they frequented those temples too often, unhealthy movements, gossip, and questions would ensue. The Confederation, like its Cities, is considered Free for a reason: religion does not prevail over secular authority, does not rise above the Coats of Arms of Houses, whether merchant or noble. Those merchants who flirt too openly with the priesthood are questioned, and there's a certain amount of resistance from their fellow tradespeople. Especially if they flirt with the local solar deity, prayers to whom are generally forbidden because they sometimes work no better than cults. His believers, not the prayers. Although prayers, too.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 07:19

That's why people bearing the de Lomer coat of arms came to Her Temple, nothing more, just small and medium-sized minions who conveyed Urvag and Maega's assurances of all the best, and nothing more. Stepan wasn't entirely opposed. It was his first time personally beneath the vault of Gaia's temple, and the experience was quite unusual. This goddess's clergy are quite attractive, exclusively female; only the temple guards, known as the Bread People, are male, but they stand at a distance, darkly hinting at what will happen if someone starts acting stupidly.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 08:08

Many temples of Gaia have no guards at all. This isn't surprising, given the basic ability of this goddess's priestesses to curse by Her wrath, the nature of those curses, and the difficulty of blocking and the near-impossibility of removing expressions of Her disfavor already received. This applies to many, but not to Morgrave. Here, quite recently, this temple was plundered without fear of the consequences in the form of the now-famous infertility and complete impotence of all involved, right up to the chief admiral-general of the Island Kingdom. They say, gloating, he later had to beg the temple's senior priestess for an apology, even to the point of building another temple on the Islands. Yeah, they say. And they gloat, of course. They just keep quiet about the fact that Morgraf's senior priestess and most of her clergy were blatantly stolen.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 08:16

Such an aggressive personnel policy that burns the locals' asses. It's only slightly less damaging than blows of the islanders' super-ship, which, thanks to its construction material and the Captain-Admiral's nature, is equal to Archmage in sheer power. The temple's new clergy were weaker; they didn't have a priestess as powerful as the kidnapped Amelie (or Amalia, he couldn't quite catch it and didn't bother asking), but it was still a temple of the Giver of Life. Large, sacred, and even after the plunder, it remained an extremely powerful place of power, the seat of power for a most normal, albeit somewhat quirky, local goddess. Seriously, if he had no choice in which class to take, if he could only become a priest, he would have chosen Gaia.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 08:38

If only to look at the swarms of all those who will later see the first male priest of the Life-Giver in the whole world.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 08:17

"Convey my sincerest words of warmth to the venerable Urvag, may Her blessings always rest upon him and his House." A very beautiful, middle-aged woman, with brown eyes and brown hair, spoke. Her aura was simply enveloping, like warm honey, and, involuntarily, evoked not even sympathy but a lack of aggression that, frankly, made the shaman quite nervous. "The gifts of your House are always a joy to Her temple, as is your visit, my dears. You may stay for the midday prayer, if you so wish."

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 08:21

And a willing soul was found. Not Stepan, but the leader of their group of "showing respect," an elderly man, one of Urvag's personal aides. He was responsible for procuring all manner of exotic items for shamanic rituals. A valuable man, who, upon hearing from his master's wife that she urgently, YESTERDAY, needed sixty-nine double-yolk eggs—not from chimeroid hens, but naturally occurring ones—didn't blink in bewilderment. No, he simply saluted, figuratively speaking, gathered the men, handed them household amulets for checking the livestock, and ordered them to visit every chicken coop on the outskirts of Morgrave. The eggs were found, Maega performed her ritual, and everyone involved was pleased, especially the villagers, who were paid for those eggs in silver.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 08:49

In fact, Master Yurik was sent here, at the head of the de Lomer delegation, to improve his male and general health. And the gifts this time weren't the typical lunar donations for goodwill, but more serious, downright serious. That's why the priestess sang like a nightingale, smiling at them all, and Yurik in particular, and why she immediately invited them to attend the prayer service, and in the best seats. Closest to the altar, closest to grace. Urvag and his wife asked Stepan beforehand whether this would be a problem and whether he would be exposed, but he assured everyone that he could disguise himself amid the flow of divine energy.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 09:14

At least it was some kind of practice, and an almost safe one at that. Without intending any harm, without intending to harm the temple, he was almost guaranteed to conceal himself from the flow of grace, even without a deliberate scan. Someone else's blessing was a bit of a pity, of course, but for him to refuse it and stand aside while the other four messengers received Her grace would be extremely odd. He'd have to accept that grace as a deception, and then sacrifice it to one of the spirits of those aspects. Come to think of it, a visit to that temple would even be a nice profit.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 11:26

The visit here is another part of Urvag's intrigues. A demonstration that he needed to begin strengthening his relationship with the Life-Giving servants right now. Either Maega is truly slightly pregnant, or they decided to casually usher this strange young man through the temple's boon without making any unnecessary gestures. The man made a series of seemingly unsuspicious, yet suggestive, gestures and actions, thereby deflecting any potential questions in the direction he wanted. And, of course, he casually helps his loyal servant with his health, so that his wife and two official lovers won't be sad. The lovers, incidentally, are noticeably brainwashed, implanted with acoustic activators and a couple of imposed behavioral role models, but they are on a voluntary contract and with the obligation to return them to normal thinking upon completion of their service.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 11:37

The shaman had heard of this approach before, but this was the first time he'd encountered it in practice. It was refreshing, you know, testing two slightly dark-skinned beauties, resembling earthly Latinas, expecting to encounter deception, intimidation, and coercion in their minds. But instead, he encountered two greedy and not particularly bright bitches, clinging to the chance to fulfill their dream — to spend a few years on full board, doing nothing but shaking their breasts, and then being left with purses full of silver or even gold as bonuses and a not-so-large but steady pension, certified through the Bank of Undermountain.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 08:24

If he had heroically freed them from such cruel and oppressive mental slavery, they would have tried to gouge his eyes out, regardless of their rank. The latter wasn't entirely serious, but still! Yurik's wife, incidentally, didn't exactly support this state of affairs, but considered it the lesser evil. Mistress Virginia herself was a remarkably asexual, almost frigid woman, more interested in magical practice and reading classical literature than in family life. An average adept, hardly striving for anything more, she seemed to Stepan like a magical, low-budget version of Marie Curie. And for the sake of not having to fuss with her husband in bed, she would have forgiven him even three lovers, fortunately, having already given birth to a son and a spare son, and could fully immerse herself in the world of literature and metaphysical research.

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 08:26

And so, the happy old man, who looks to be in his fifties but is actually approaching his seventies, who once served Urvaga's father, is literally bathing in a barely visible golden mist, inhaling it and filling himself with life. The other representatives of de Lomer also struggle to keep a straight face so as not to smile like idiots. Only the shaman grits his teeth inwardly, distributing blessings along the spirit that has wrapped itself around his essence. There are spirits that inhabit the physical body of a shaman, but here it was more like the shaman had inhabited the physical body directly into the immaterial essence. The spirit wrapped itself in a thin film around the shaman's flesh and aura, around the Shroud he had raised, taking on, absorbing, and preserving the grace. And the earthling diligently monitored the aura and spiritual body, adjusting the disguise so that it corresponded to the one who received this grace.

Camrad_RIP 31.01.26 в 20:51

The younger priestesses, young and not particularly busty, except for one particular priestess who, even at her young age, was capable of rivaling Sylvia in size, rushed between the kneeling men and women, handing out holy bread. Fresh, fragrant, black and white, with a little butter, it would make a shaman's breakfast. He noted in his notebook from the system the need to buy a whole loaf from the store, rather than small pieces, while chewing on the treat. One black loaf, so that the earth would always love its child, and one white loaf, so that the heavens would not be angry and would forgive time and time again. The first loaf improved health and protected against disease, while the second increased vitality, including that very one, and provided some protection against minor curses.

Camrad_RIP 31.01.26 в 20:53

"Thank you, honored one." He turned away, slightly embarrassed, from the servant that flash the low neckline of the priest's robe. She giggled softly at his reaction and ran off to distribute the bread further. Her lush, flowing, wheat-colored hair brushes his face. "Very tasty."

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 08:29

Next came the farewell ceremony. They were thanked once again, called respected, but not honored, for they were not the right kind of people, and then sent on their way. Not only them; half the city had sent their people to the temple that day, and some even came themselves. The very first row, right next to the altar, was occupied, for example, by the venerable Baron Sergio de Borwald and his young bride. The wedding was only in a couple of months, but it was already being discussed as if it were a done deal. Gossip was rife even in Urvag's house. Not scandalous, no, for the union of two families is no longer news, nor is the logical decision to become related permanently. They were simply discussing the prospects of such a union and what it might mean for them.

Camrad_RIP 30.01.26 в 13:09

The shaman noted with mild joy that both of their feelings were genuine. There was a calculated element to them, but there was also plenty of genuine affection. He even felt a bit envious and simply happy that in this world, at least someone could afford genuine feelings and affection, and not just some mindwashing shit. It had somehow always turned out that way for him, and the objects of genuine mutual affection in his second life had been few and far between. Singha didn't count, given the circumstances of their first encounters and the fact that she had hardly forgotten those circumstances, so the only one he could remember was Tahira, and...

Camrad_RIP 29.01.26 в 08:51