Готовый перевод Страж Империи / Guardian of the Empire: Chapter 10

Chapter 10
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I was awakened by the frantic barking of the yard dogs, who had been greatly disturbed by something. Almost immediately, the horses went berserk, bursting out of the stable with such wild neighing that they immediately drowned out the dispersed pack. But only until the frenzied barking of the dogs rushing around the yard turned into a completely insane howl, filled with fear and hopelessness.

Jumping out of bed, before I could even comprehend what was happening, I knocked down the latch on the window shutters and peered out into the courtyard… And, my mouth hanging open in amazement, I stood frozen, staring at the scene. A horde of loudly howling dogs was scrambling up the fence surrounding the inn like seasoned cats… And several had already covered at least two-thirds of the required five yards…

I even rubbed my eyes, assuming I was just half-asleep. But no, nothing had changed in the courtyard.

"Kar, what's going on?!" Angel's worried voice reached me.

"I don't know," I muttered, looking at the dogs, who had clearly gone mad, in confusion. Turning to offer the girl a reassuring word, I saw the imp fidgeting restlessly across the table. This immediately put me on guard, and I immediately asked, "What's so alarming?"

//“Oh dear, oh dear... What am I going to do now?!” Ignoring me completely, the imp continued running back and forth across the tabletop, exclaiming and frantically scratching his shaggy head.

//“What happened?” I tried to get an intelligible answer from the horned one, because apparently, he definitely knows something about the reasons for the sudden madness of animals.

"Aaah!" A completely insane, inhuman scream emanating from the stables easily drowned out the entire cacophony of sounds and sent a sudden, cold shiver down my spine. People just don't scream like that when they're scared...

//“The demon is here, the demon!” the imp finally deigned to answer me, stopping his run for a moment.

//“What the demon?!” I shivered.

"I don't know," the imp replied. "Most likely one of the inferior ones... But they don't know how to hide their aura and remain unnoticed."

//"But where did he come from?!" I froze, stunned by the imp's statement. And then a realization struck me, making me clench my fists and move toward the vile creature, forgetting the impossibility of causing it physical harm.

//“How should I know?” the tailed one responded with annoyance.

"//You don't know, then?!" I seethed, feeling a strong urge to skin someone. And I hissed, looking at the bastard twitching his tail: "And who just recently came up with that seemingly pointless demon summoning ritual? Wasn't it you?! Ah, your lying mug?!"

//"I have nothing to do with this! Absolutely nothing to do with it!" The imp assured me swearingly, and, irritably lashing his thighs with his tail, he blurted out, "Do you think this inferior will bother to sort out who's who?! No way! And he'll tear me apart just for the sake of it, without even thinking!"

//“But then, where did this demon come from?” I backed down, although I didn’t fully believe the imp.

//“How should I know?!” he spread his arms wide. “Someone summoned it.” And he hastily added, “We need to get out of here fast! Whatever brought this demon out of the Underworld, it doesn't bode well for us. This bloodthirsty creature won't rest until it destroys every living thing within reach!”

"Foreman, there's something strange going on in the yard!" Thomas and Nick, who were standing guard at the door, burst into the room.

"It seems that some kind of creature has crossed over the fence," I instantly offered a plausible explanation, deciding not to shock them with the cruel truth. And immediately ordered: “Quickly wake up the others!” And as my subordinates rushed off to carry out the order, I shouted after them: “Put on your armor!”

"But what kind of inhuman creature could have terrified the animals so much?" Angel asked in surprise.

“Well…” I drawled, quickly girding myself and at the same time trying to figure out what to answer the girl.

I turned to Angel, and a sudden feeling of terror washed over me, almost making me rush out of the room and run, run, run as long as my legs would carry me. Such fear gripped me that I even trembled all over, and my hair stood on end. And perhaps I would have given in to the mad desire to get as far away from this place as possible, if I hadn't been looking into the eyes of the girl, frozen with terror, at that moment.

Overcoming myself, I rushed to Angel to unshackle her. In shackles, she had no chance of escaping the demon. And I'm not some kind of villain—to hand over innocent girls to a creature from the Underworld for prey.

“What is this?!” the lady asked, looking at me with shocked, huge eyes, as soon as the horror subsided.

"The hell knows!" I cursed, trying to find the key to the shackles in my pockets.

//“The demon is so close that you have been affected by the aura inherent in all primordial beings!” The imp immediately enlightened me. “Judging by its aura of fear and terror, which suppresses the will to resist in living beings, it is definitely an inferior one!”

"Kar, there's no such thing as a nonhuman that inspires such fear!" the goldilocks girl said hastily. "It looks more like a demon!"

"Yes, it seems so," I was forced to admit, acknowledging the correctness of the expressed guess.

"But what do we do now?!" Angel asked. And, noticing my frantic search for the key, she voiced a logical guess: "Kar, are you trying to take my shackles off?"

“Well, yes,” I nodded, finally fishing out a chain with a key from the inside pocket of my jacket.

“Don't worry about it,” the girl stopped me and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, shaking her hands sharply. The shackles, fastened with a chain, fell to the floor with a clink. And Angel, feigning naive simplicity, simply shrugged her shoulders, her whole demeanor seeming to say, “What about me? They just came off somehow while I was sleeping!”

I frowned at this performance. But before I could form my opinion on Angel's unexpected talents, my subordinates burst into the room with a clatter of feet.

“Foreman, something's going on here!” John blurted out.

“I noticed,” I chuckled, listening to the noise and hubbub that reigned in the inn.

Once again, a clammy dread pierced the soul, and everyone turned visibly pale. And when the sound of breaking wood and the sickening creak of bending metal came from somewhere above, it became even more terrifying.

The glass globe of the magical lamp flashed past the window like a blue comet and, falling to the ground, burst with a dull crash. Immediately, the courtyard was plunged into darkness. The feeling of terror gradually lifted.

"Can this creature fly, too?" Burim asked, not sure who he was addressing.

"Haven't you figured that out yet?!" John shouted irritably and rushed to the window, closing it. He rushed to the door and slammed it shut. Then he turned to us and said quickly: "Well, what are you standing there for?! We need to block the window with the table and beds, and drag the chests to the door! We'll barricade ourselves in here, and no creatures will be able to get us out!"

//“He'll get in here and kill everyone!” retorted the demon, pacing around the room. "The inferiors go completely mad when they escape to the Edge! Like... Like ferrets that get into someone's yard and can't calm down until they've strangled all the chickens! And no walls can hide you from the demon! He'll scatter them in an instant!"

"What about the rest?" I asked John, raising my bolt thrower. "After all, no one here probably has anything even close to our arsenal!"

"What do we care about the rest of them?!" John exclaimed. "We're not in Kelm, and we're not obligated to protect anyone here! And anyway, we didn't hire ourselves out to fight demons! That's the job of the holy fools!"

The other guards remained silent. John was absolutely right, in principle: we were just visiting guests here and owed nothing to anyone. But abandoning even strangers to their deaths?!

//"This one's affected by the demonic aura!" the imp blurted out, momentarily halted. "You're not going to explain to him anything now! You'd better do something about him before he goes completely nuts and causes trouble for us!"

"A-a-a!!!" Someone screamed in one of the nearby rooms.

I rushed to the window. I flung open the shutters and saw, dimly visible in the light of the lamps hanging in the courtyard, a winged creature, twitching from side to side, pulling a man, grabbed by the leg, into the sky, struggling and screaming in terror.

With one movement, I cocked the bolt thrower, raised it, and hesitated for a moment, choosing a target. Hitting a moving demon is problematic, and a twitching person is not a suitable target. And so I shoot at the stable roof.

The flash of bright white light didn't hit my eyes too hard, as I managed to close my eyes. But the demon was clearly blinded: it let out a piercing screech and, abandoning its prey, darted away, disappearing around the corner of the building.

The demon's victim, having fallen from a height of just over ten yards, didn't break. The screaming boy even tried to rise from the ground. And at that very moment, he was trampled by the maddened horses that had broken free from the stable and were galloping across the yard. Only then did the poor fellow fall silent...

"Foreman, do you want this creature to jump in here and eat us?!" John, dumbfounded, rushed at me, pushed me away, and closed the window again.

Shaking my head, trying to drive away the disgusting vision of scarlet blood spurting from under the horse's hooves and the mess into which a living man had instantly turned, I turned and hit John on the head with the butt of the bolt thrower.

“Fireman, why are you treating him like that?” Gert asked sharply, frowning. “He's one of our own... And he's right about everything.”

"He's out of his mind," I said, turning to face my subordinates. "And in that state, he's more dangerous to us than any evil spirit."

"A-a-a!" A piercing scream came from the room next door, and a moment later, several voices began screaming in terror there.

"Burim, Stan, follow me! The rest of you hold the line here!" I said, and ran out into the corridor.

He jumped out and saw the door to the next room burst open and a white-as-chalk boy literally flew out, screaming hysterically. Well, almost. A dirty-gray, clawed paw, reaching out after him, didn't let him get a quarter of a yard—grabbing the boy by the scruff of the neck, pulled him back in. And slammed the door with monstrous force, sending whitewash raining down from the ceiling.

We simply froze, paralyzed by the terror that gripped us. We had no strength to rush forward to help the demon's wildly screaming victim.

Finally overcoming my fear, I moved from my place and discovered that I could not stop the violent trembling that was beating through my body, causing the bolt thrower to shake wildly in my hands.

//“Imp, do something!” I appealed to the evil spirit residing within my body for help.

//“Do you know what they’ll do to me if they find out I helped you against my own kind?!” the imp exploded.

//"I don't know," I replied. "But I can guess that if that creature tears me apart, nothing good awaits you either! You yourself said the demon won't care who you are or what you're doing here!"

//“All right, all right!” blurted out the imp circling my feet. “But remember: if anything happens, I had nothing to do with it! And I didn't help you in any way!”

//"Deal!" I quickly agreed and immediately felt much better. I stopped shaking, and the gnawing feeling of dread that had been gnawing at my soul subsided, shifting somewhere to the back of my mind.

//"And the rest of them need some kind of perception-blunting elixirs!" the horned one advised. "Or something like that..."

//“Where can I get these elixirs?” I said with annoyance as I walked.

Kicked open the ill-fated door, which, unable to withstand the barbaric treatment, gave way on its hinges and crashed to the floor, I stood frozen on the threshold, ready to devour the vile demon with Blades of Light at any moment. Alas, whether by accident or design, the lamp in the room had been extinguished. I was simply forced to retreat into the illuminated corridor to have any chance of responding to the attack from the gloom, filled with cries of pain and pleas for help.

"Damn it!" I cursed under my breath and ordered Gert, who was standing nearby with a crossbow in his hands: "Get the lamp here!"

"Wait, there'll be light soon!" An elderly warrior guarding the merchant caravan pushed Gert out of the way as he rushed toward the lamp at the end of the corridor.

The senior guard of the merchant caravan, who, judging by his determination and assertiveness, was in charge, did not say anything else. Burim also moved aside and shifted to the other side, taking up a Marman axe with unusually wide blades. And then a guy about my age, who had been invisible behind his broad back until now, stepped forward. A glowing blue ball the size of a medium apple flew out of his hand and, flying into the room, instantly dispelled the darkness.

Burim felt sick at the sight that met his eyes, and he recoiled from the doorway. I stood frozen, staring at the very same boy who had been trying to escape from the demon. Or rather, at the bloody mask that his face had been transformed into, slashed by those very same huge curved claws. But that wasn't the worst of it. The boy had completely lost touch with reality from the experience and, howling mournfully, tried to patch up the bleeding pieces of skin torn from his face with the stumps of his hands... Stumps, because his hands were simply gone. Either torn off or bitten off by the dark creature.

The sight alone would have sickened anyone, even those accustomed to the sight of wounds. But the horror didn't end there. Five people fell victim to the demon. And all of them were alive! This rampaging, bloodthirsty creature didn't kill anyone, only maimed them.

"What kind of creature was causing such havoc here, guards?" the old warrior was the first to come to his senses.

“Demon,” I did not consider it necessary to hide the cruel truth from this determined man.

"Damn!" he cursed under his breath, surprisingly easily accepting my words. He turned to his companion: "Dick, are you handling this?"

"Father, this isn't even funny!" he blurted out. But seeing that no one was even thinking of making fun of him, the boy pulled himself together and said, "I can't handle this alone. If we all work together, maybe." And without further delay, he set about healing the injured. Even the weakest mage could stop the bleeding and slightly close an open wound.

“But everyone will run away before we can organize a defense,” Burim added, not daring to look into the room again.

"Yes, right!" the boy slapped his forehead. His hands began to emit a pale glow. "I'll embody Gawain's Valor, and it will be easier for people to fight the fear they've imposed on them!" he exclaimed.

"Do it, Dick," his father nodded encouragingly and turned to me: "You're supposed to be the senior guard, aren't you? What are you planning to do?"

“To kill the demon,” I answered briefly.

“This is a necessary thing,” the warrior supported me and, squinting, asked: “And what about the people?”

“What do you suggest?” I asked quickly.

"Herd everyone into the hall and hold the line there. I and my men will protect the common people from attack, while you can hunt this creature."

"Then let's get to work," I instantly agreed to the proposed plan. And I ordered Gert and Burim: "Keep watch here for now, so that the demon does not return and finish what he started."

"What should we do now?" asked Rons, who had somehow ended up next to us with his friend Gregor and was trying to peer into the doorway.

“Follow me,” I ordered and hurried to my room.

I burst in like a whirlwind and, ignoring the questioning looks of my subordinates, immediately addressed the girl:

"Angel, if we remove this necklace that is restricting your abilities, will you help us deal with the demon?"

“Kar, only a Gifted One can remove the necklace…” The lady shook her head with an apologetic smile.

"Consider that we have a Gifted One," I interrupted her rather impolitely.

"Then I'll need an hour or so to recover a bit," Angel replied, seeing my seriousness. "There's a quicker option, but in that case, I'll need some kind of magical item with its own energy reserve that I can borrow for my needs."

"Excellent," I nodded and turned to my subordinates. "Now we need to help herd everyone into the hall on the first floor and barricade ourselves there. And then we'll deal with this vile demon." Turning my gaze to the coachmen standing apart, I asked. "Rons, Gregor, are you with us?"

"So what else?" Rons shrugged. "It's clear as day that if we don't all work together to defeat this demon, no one here will survive until morning."

"By the way, alchemists offer a decent price for a demon's carcass, in case anyone wasn't aware," Gregor remarked, slightly perking up the dejected guards with this statement. The valiant guards shouldn't be afraid when some coachmen act so confidently.

And I, nodding approvingly, said:

"Then take John's weapon, he won't need it for now anyway, and grab him too." I urged everyone on: "Come on, let's move. Nick and I are in front, Angel, Rons, Gregor, and John are in the center, the rest of us will cover the rear."

We left the room in the manner described. But we didn't get far. The corridor was horribly crowded. Some people had jumped out of the rooms themselves, others had been thrown out by the senior officer, who had begun to carry out his plan. We somehow pushed our way to the next room. And we were stopped by a new wave of screams coming from the far end of the corridor. However, the screams quickly subsided, and I gave up the idea of rushing there immediately to help. Right now, it is more important to increase our combat power than to engage in useless running around. It would be impossible to catch up with the demon in such a commotion anyway.

"Dick, are you finished with the wounded?" I asked the mage, who had already turned green from being in the blood-soaked room.

“Yes, yes, I’m finishing,” he nodded, moving his hands, emitting a golden glow, over the wound of the moaning elderly woman.

"What did you want?" asked the senior of the merchant guard.

“We need to remove the necklace from the lady that is restricting her abilities,” I replied.

"Won't your ward run away?" After looking Angel up and down, the warrior asked cautiously, chuckling.

"Where, into the clutches of the demon?" I asked reasonably in response.

Unlike his father, Dick didn't bother with the question of whether to release our criminal. After finishing with the wounded, he immediately turned his attention to Angel's necklace. The only thing that made him hesitate a little was the unexpected beauty of the villainess, accompanied by guards. But he quickly pulled himself together. He didn't even flinch when wild screams hit his ears from both sides at once.

"Stand still!" I ordered my subordinates, who had just begun to move. Gawain's Valor had worked — they were immediately drawn to heroic deeds.

"Done!" Dick exclaimed joyfully, for whom freeing the Gifted from the object that was restraining their powers seemed to be something new.

“Angel, take this,” I handed the amulet with the “Circle of Reflective Light” to the girl, who quickly covered her neck with her hand, as if protecting herself from the immediate return of the ill-fated necklace to its place.

"Yes, that's what I need, Kar!" the young lady said, genuinely delighted at the trinket I handed her, quickly snatching it up with her free hand.

"Help! Save us!" Cries for help reached us, and the wagon train captain and his son rushed out of the room.

"Take the wounded and carry them into the hall!" I ordered the guards, who were looking at me questioningly. "We must secure this gathering place from the demon immediately."

//“From demons,” the despondent demon corrected me, uselessly shuffling his hoof across the floorboard and trying to wipe the brown stain that had eaten into the wood.

//“What did you say?” I asked, staring at the imp in disbelief.

//"There's more than one demon," the horned one sighed heavily. "There are three of them here..."

//"Yeah, it looks like this is a crap..." I was forced to admit the futility of all our fussing. With everyone together, a couple of Gifted, and a single demon, it would be entirely possible to handle them. But to defeat three of these terrifying creatures at once...

"Take this, Kar," Angel handed me the amulet. "I left some energy in it. But I don't think you'll need it... If this demon wields magic, nothing will save us."

“It’s too early to despair,” I stated with the utmost optimism possible, although, of course, I didn’t have any rosy hopes regarding the outcome of our confrontation with the demons.

"Yes, that's true," the girl agreed with me and asked, "Can I borrow your falchion? Your hands are busy with the bolt thrower anyway."

"Take it, of course." Quickly unbuckling the sword from my belt, I tossed it to Angel. She caught it unexpectedly easily by the hilt and, with a gliding, smooth movement of her hand, spun the blade so deftly that the scabbard flew off. A barely perceptible smile appeared on the girl's lips. A very suspicious smile, considering the circumstances.

However, I didn’t focus my attention on this fact, but gave the command:

"Burim, Stan, cover our back. Angel and I will go ahead. The rest of you help the wounded and hold the flanks. Forward!"

We rolled out of the room, which had been turned into a bloodbath by the creature from the Underworld, and headed for the stairs. On the way, we were joined by several frightened guests who, sensing reliable protection in the armed guards, literally squeezed into the center of our small detachment. Of course, no one drove them away, although this slowed our progress toward our goal.

The convoy guards were already at work in the crowded hall: several were attempting to block the windows with tables, while others, having built a small barricade of benches at the bar adjacent to the solid wall, were herding the incapacitated crowd there. A profusely sweating merchant and his clerks, a local servant, and a couple of families traveling with the convoy were already there. We headed straight to the bar to hand over the injured to the servants bustling about there.

"Waaaah!" the merchant convoy guard screamed wildly, throwing down the table he and his friend had been propping up against the still-uncovered window. But he didn't have time to draw his short sword—a dark-gray winged creature, thrusting into the hall, slashed his throat with its claws first. Then it leaped back from the window, into the darkness of the courtyard.

"Ludwig!" the second warrior shouted, seeing his comrade collapse to the floor, clutching his blood-spurting neck with his hands. Drawing his short sword, he pushed the table away from the window and yelled, "You bastard! Come here!"

No one had time to revive the warrior who had lost a friend or relative. Something flashed in the darkness outside the window, and the man, doubled over as if punched in the gut, fell backward. Only then did the short, pitch-black spear pierce his stomach, visible. However, it immediately dissipated into a black haze and vanished into thin air. A hideous, shrill laugh echoed from the courtyard.

"I told you—two move the tables, two cover them!" Shouted the chief of the merchant convoy from the stairs and immediately began giving orders. "Peter, Som, split into groups of four—and do it! Dick, if that creature comes at us, burn it with fire!"

"Thomas, Gert, Nick, take cover behind the counter and cover the three windows directly across from us!" I said, getting my bearings. "You've got plenty of bolts—shoot any shadows that flash by! Burim, Stan, you take the windows on the left side of the hall!" And I turned to the coachman holding John's bolt thrower: "Gregor, you and I have the right side!"

It soon became clear that the vertically placed tables did not quite reach the top edge of the window opening, leaving a wide gap of about ten inches. That was unfortunate. And the shutters, which were supposed to reliably protect the windows, could only be closed from the yard, and were held in place by latches to prevent them from slamming in the wind. Criminal negligence... At least the bolt on the front door was still in place and hadn't been put away somewhere as unnecessary.

And yet, the merchant convoy guards quickly accomplished their task. And without losses. The demons gave them a respite, allowing them to seal all the windows with tables and benches. And everyone breathed a sigh of relief. I turned to Angel:

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," assured me the girl, who really didn't look hopelessly terrified.

"What can you use against the demons right now?" I asked immediately, wondering how to organize the fight if the creatures of the Underworld risked breaking into the hall.

"I don't have anything effective enough in my arsenal for such a situation," the sorceress bit her lip in frustration. "All the spells are either too weak to harm the demon or don't form quickly enough to effectively attack such a nimble target... The best I can offer is Air Vise. It won't hold the demon, of course, but it will slow it down for a few moments, allowing you to use your bolt throwers."

"That's not bad either!" I perked up. It was precisely the demons' incredible agility that had worried me. It would be hard to hit them if they burst into the hall!

But these creatures weren't even thinking of attacking yet. They were plotting something. The people in the hall even calmed down a bit, feeling relatively safe. And only then did the demons strike. Before anyone could blink, three black spears crashed through the wooden tables and crashed into the lamps hanging from the ceiling, knocking them to the floor. The hall instantly grew noticeably darker. And the spears, melting into a dark haze, immediately vanished. Only to return very quickly, destroying three more lamps and filling the room with gloom. The last remaining lamp was clearly not enough...

"Dick!" his father cried, alarmed. "Do something! We don't stand a chance against these creatures in the dark!"

"One moment!" The magician said quickly and, waving his hand enveloped in white light, created a magical firefly that dispelled the darkness.

"Do an independent incarnation!" Suggested Angel, almost at the same moment, created a similar firefly, which immediately hung under the ceiling.

But it was too late. With relative ease, three pitch-black spears pierced the table and struck the blue shield enveloping the caravan mage. Two flew off, but the last one pierced the kinetic barrier and pierced the young man's left thigh. And, as if sensing they had hit their mark, the demons circling the courtyard erupted in a hideous, shrill laughter.

"Dick!" the senior of merchant guard shouted, rushing towards his son.

"Kar, I've got it! I've got it!" Angel exclaimed at the same moment, and a pale blue haze, characteristic of Air manipulation, appeared before her.

Without letting anyone in on her plans, the girl formed an "Air Ram" in front of her and smashed the table covering the window across from her into splinters. And before anyone could speak, she began casting some kind of Light spell. The sorceress's entire figure seemed enveloped in white fire, forcing everyone to quickly turn away, as looking at such a bright flame was simply impossible. But a little later, an even brighter source of light appeared. A blinding white orb formed before Angel, forcing most of the people to shield their eyes.

"There you go!" the lady sighed with satisfaction as this powerful source of light, somewhat reminiscent of the sun, burst through the window and the demons began to shriek hysterically. "They say the Underworld is a place of darkness," the girl explained as we stared at her. "So I think the demons will have a hard time in the bright light."

//“It's hard, but it's not fatal,” muttered the imp. “If necessary, they'll come out into the light, especially if they get really angry...”

//"We managed to get them out of the courtyard, though!" I remarked with satisfaction, hearing the sound of breaking wood on the second floor. It seemed the demons, seeking shelter from the blinding light, had rushed into one of the guest rooms.

//“What’s the point?” the imp snorted contemptuously.

"Oh my God!" the merchant cried out in fear as the black spear, piercing the ceiling, sank into the floor just a couple of inches from his foot.

The clerk standing next to him was not so lucky. He was struck by two spears at once, piercing his shoulders and pinning him to the floor. The poor man didn't even have time to scream before he turned pale and lost consciousness. And when the otherworldly spears melted into a dark haze, he crashed to the floor. But no one paid any attention to that — the second victim of the demon's cunning, who turned out to be a young maid, let out a piercing scream, and the people crowded behind the barricade scattered.

"This way they'll kill them all!" the senior of merchant guard shook his head sadly, gripping the handle of his axe. And he himself was almost struck by a spear.

"They're hitting at the sound!" Dick realized and limped toward us. He'd had enough strength to heal the wound on his leg, but it would take time to fully heal.

"We'll have to smoke them out of there," I decided, and turned to my subordinates: “I need two people with bolt throwers. Who's going?” And while the guys looked at each other, thinking, I turned to the lady: “Angel, it's a dangerous job, of course, but we can't do it without your help...”

"I understand, Kar," Angel nodded decisively. "And, of course, I'll go with you."

"And we go," Burim and Gregor stepped forward.

"Are you sure?" I looked doubtfully at the excited coachman.

"Don't worry, foreman, I won't let you down," Gregor assured me. "I served a full five years in the mounted jagers. I've had to deal with all sorts of beasts."

“Okay,” I said. “Just leave the magazines with the bolts carrying the ‘Paralyzing Strike’ here. So they don't get in the way.” And then I remembered: “Yes, Gregor, and take John's medallion with the kinetic shield.”

"Maybe you should take more people?" Dick intervened.

"No, he's doing the right thing," his father remarked. "There's no room to move around in a crowd, and the crossbowmen aren't much use."

There was no need to tell Angel to hang up the firefly; she figured out for herself that it would be inconvenient for us to carry the lamps around. And we hurriedly moved to the second floor, as the demons had no intention of stopping, continuing to throw spears into the hall. A ball the size of a walnut, emitting a soft blue glow, floated ahead, followed by me, then Angel, and behind her Burim and Gregor. There was no one in the second-floor hallway, and we quickly reached the room where the demons were wreaking havoc.

"Gregor, on my command, knock down the door with Air Ram, and you, Burim, immediately deploy the Suppression Sphere into the room," I began whispering commands. "Your task, Angel, will be to create an Air Shield as soon as the guys fire back and seal the doorway with it so the demons can't get through."

Having carefully looked over his demon-hunting companions and realizing that everyone understood the assigned tasks, he nodded to the former jager.

Raising his bolt thrower, Gregor fired a bolt at the door, sending it crashing down with a crash of his "Air Ram" activated by the impact. Burim wasn't slow either, firing back just a moment later. Our reward was the frantic shrieks of the demons struck by the magic. Then came the terrifying crash and rumble of breaking wood. But this noise reached us through the shield woven from a translucent blue haze that blocked the doorway.

//“You can’t take them with such weak spells...” the imp drawled sadly.

//“It will be stronger,” I promised, cautiously peering into the room and trying to see something. The demons had jumped in from the yard and slammed the shutters behind them, and the single firefly created by Angel was clearly not enough to dispel all the shadows.

"Well, what's going on?" Burim couldn't resist.

“These creatures broke through the walls into the neighboring rooms and escaped through the holes,” I said with annoyance and ordered the guard: “Change the clip to one with Frost Strike.”

"What walls are there?" Gregor snorted. "Thin plank partitions!"

“Angel, hang a stationary firefly in this room,” I asked and turned to the imp sitting on my left shoulder: //“Can you tell me where the demons are now?”

“Two are hiding in the room to the right of this one, and the third is sitting on the left,” the imp answered after thinking for a moment, apparently deciding whether to help us or not.

"Okay, there are two demons to our right now, and one to our left," I informed the others. "And since they're split up, let's try to take advantage of that and take out the lone one."

"What should we do?" Gregor asked businesslike.

"I'll just walk into the room and shoot through the hole," I replied. "And you cover me."

The cracking of planks interrupted our plans. The demons didn't wait for us to quietly shoot them down, but quickly redeployed.

//“Imp, where are they now?” I asked my horned assistant without hesitation.

No answer was needed. Coal-black spears struck us from both sides – from above and at a slight angle.

"They've climbed into the attic!" Burim exclaimed, involuntarily reeling back, even though the demonic spear had already flown away, powerlessly, having collided with the kinetic shield enveloping the guard.

"Hit the ceiling with the Air Ram bolt!" I instantly ordered the jager and turned to the girl. "Angel, you immediately drive a more powerful firefly in there so those creatures are forced to retreat!"

Gregor immediately fired his bolt thrower at the ceiling almost above us, showering us with splinters of broken boards and whitish dust of whitewash. But this didn't frighten the demons or stop them from hurling their spears at us again. Two bounced off my kinetic shield, and the third was deftly deflected by Angel's falchion. And on the move, before she could even lower her sword, the sorceress conjured a sizable firefly.

A ball of bright blue light rose up and flew through the gap in the ceiling. Immediately, the boards began to creak again. The imp immediately blurted out, "The demons are twenty yards away! In the room to the left of the corridor!"

"The demons are in the third room on the left!" I told my comrades, estimating the distance. "Let's go there and do the same as the first time! Only now I'll be the one doing the shooting, not Burim!"

Before we could move in the indicated direction, we were attacked again. Black spears struck me and Burim, who was walking slightly behind us on the left. But no one was harmed thanks to our kinetic shields. The dark creatures' next attack was equally ineffective. And then it was our turn...

The Air Ram crashed through the door, and I immediately fired the Water Blades into the dark room. Immediately, my ears were struck by the piercing shrieks of demons, the whistling of water jets swirling around the focal point of the forming vortex, and the cracking, monstrously loud cracking of wood being ground into splinters.

Without hesitation, Angel sent a firefly into the room, and we saw a swift whirlwind of blades of water swirling against the wall facing the courtyard. Although the wall was essentially gone, destroyed by the raging elements. And on the floor around us were stains of dark red, almost black blood, and a demon with a striped wing! But it wasn't dead: upon noticing us, it rushed at incredible speed toward the gaping hole in the wall.

The sorceress's spell worked incredibly well: with a wave of her hands enveloped in blue light, the fleeing demon seemed to have fallen into a trap. All the frantic struggles of this winged creature were useless. The faint mist that had gathered around it held fast and refused to let go of its prey.

Burim didn't disappoint either, immediately shooting at the creature stuck in the air snares. The gray-steel bolt didn't hit the head or torso of the otherworldly monster, but its forearm, but that didn't affect the outcome. The icy armor froze the screeching creature right before our eyes and turned it into a grotesque sculpture.

"I did it, I did it!" Burim exclaimed with undisguised triumph, seeing the result of his shot—a lifeless dark creature that fell to the floor with an icy clang as soon as Angel destroyed the air snares.

//“You only made them angry, idiots!” the imp exclaimed pathetically and, curling up into a ball at my feet, covered his eyes with his paws.

As if confirming the imp's words, we heard the angry screeches of the demons left without their friend. And two coal-black spears flew in from the courtyard flooded with white light. One merely scratched the pale blue shield covering Burim, while the other pierced his defence... and, plunging into the guard's throat, pinned him to the wall. Not for long. The black spear melted away, and Burim sank to the floor, still clutching his bolt thrower...

And at that very moment, the doors of the adjacent rooms literally exploded in a hail of splinters. Two fiends of Darkness burst into the narrow corridor, somersaulting impossibly to avoid the wall, and rushing towards us from opposite directions with terrifying speed. In the blink of an eye, they covered the seven yards separating us…

I barely have time to turn around to face the closest, screeching creature rushing toward me, the very sight of which made me shudder. A wrinkled, dirty-gray face with a hooked nose, a maw full of small, sharp teeth, and black burkas gleaming with hatred. And crooked paws stretched forward with terrifying, blood-stained claws. A monstrous creature...

Literally a split second before the demon reaches me with its hideous claws, I manage to turn the bolt thrower and pull the trigger. A short click, and the shiny, mirror-like blades cut through the dark creature, tearing it apart. And all these pieces of flesh fly at me... The kinetic shield is inactive, not reacting to the still, almost living flesh... This results in me receiving several impressive blows from the demon's body parts and almost falling. And because of that, I don't have time, catastrophically don't have time to reload the crossbow and turn towards the second demon. He takes full advantage of this. I turn around again, and the demon is already close... Dodging the arrow that flew out of Gregor's crossbow, he strikes the hunter with his spear with such force that it pierces the kinetic shield and cuts through his enemy's sternum. And, without stopping, he rushes on. Enjel, standing slightly to the side, parries the blow with her falchion and rushes at me. The kinetic shield deflects the coal-black spear aimed at my head, but does not stop the demon itself. I only have time to cover myself with the crossbow, and we roll across the floor. Two somersaults — and my left shoulder is torn to the bone by the sharpest claws, and my peritoneum is only not torn open because the demon's second paw is blocked by my weapon. But then our somersault ends, and the thought occurs to me that in the next moment I will die...

At that moment, Angel intervened in our fight. And how she intervened... Casting aside her falchion, the girl leaped onto the wall and, pushing off with her feet, slammed into the demon, grabbing it by the wings from behind. The most astonishing thing was that, instantly forgetting about me, the monster let out a piercing screech, spinning around in an attempt to throw the girl off. But without completing even two revolutions, the demon simply fell, withering away before our eyes and turning into a mummy...

“That’s all,” Angel said, breathing excitedly, letting go of the demon that had died incomprehensibly.

//“Did we really do it?” asked the imp cautiously, spreading his toes and looking around through the gaps between them. But when he saw the remains of one demon and the lifeless carcass of another, he jumped up and exclaimed exaggeratedly cheerfully, "Well, it wasn't that difficult after all! It was a piece of cake!"

"But how?" I gasped in shock, looking at Angel. And, dropping the bolt thrower, I clamped my right hand over the seriously bleeding wound on my forearm.

"The Secret Service simply made a mistake in assuming my taliar was a true shapeshifter," Angel replied, licking her lips and moving closer to me. "Actually, that's not true. My taliar is a very rare creature—an energy vampire."

//“Run, run away from her faster!” the imp screamed, alarmed no less than during an attack by demons.

//"And how do you imagine this?" I asked, feeling the strength literally draining out of me along with the stream of blood pouring from my shoulder. The demon, the beast, had sliced ​​my arm nearly to the bone... Where can I run now—I'll probably never get up again... And there's no point in Angel killing me—I'll die very quickly myself... And she'll just leave... Run away...

“I will heal the wound now,” the sorceress promised, and her hands were enveloped in a light golden glow.

And she really did commit this utter stupidity! She began healing me! I literally immediately felt life-giving forces flowing into me. Little by little, the blood stopped flowing, and the four deep cuts on my shoulder closed over with thin, pink skin.

But even the pain that hadn't subsided made me breathe a sigh of relief. I'd finally figured it all out. There was no point in Angel, free of her chains and necklace, healing me if she'd been a true villain! The cunning killer would have already fled from here without a backward glance!

//"Imp, are there no more demons here?" I was first concerned about the most pressing problem.

//"No!" The horned one informed me, grinning joyfully. "They didn't come through a permanently maintained portal—someone pulled them out of the Underworld through a summoning ritual!"

"Angel, what about the guys?" I asked the girl sitting on the floor next to me, my tongue barely moving.

"Sorry, Kar, I can't help them anymore," the sorceress said, lowering her gaze. "I can stop the bleeding and tighten the severed muscle tissue, but I can't repair a shattered spinal column or a severed heart."

Unable to restrain myself, I cursed. Damn those demonic creatures... And the people who summoned them. In a couple of moments of lightning-fast combat, two people died... And if it weren't for Angel's unexpected talents, we would all have stayed here.

"Don't blame yourself, Kar,“ said the lady quietly, looking at me sympathetically. ”We were lucky... There could have been many more victims."

"It could have," I sighed and, looking at Angel, who was sitting calmly next to me instead of running away, said, "You know what I think? It's high time you ran away."

"And what will happen to you?" the lady asked, once again confirming with her concern for the fate of others that she was no cunning criminal. "You'll be punished, after all."

"They won't do anything to me," I waved my hand dismissively and nodded at the demon's body. "Everything will be written off as this. But if you don't escape, I'll definitely have a hard time when my part in harboring you is revealed."

“Yes, you’re right,” Angela agreed, looking at me carefully and asking cautiously, “Then should I go?”

"Wait," I stopped her. "There's one more thing." And I asked: "Bend over to me, I'll try to remove this beacon from your neck."

"You can't do anything, Kar," the girl shook her head. "I already tried to break this ring, but I couldn't." But she still moved closer.

I didn't try to convince Angel that I'd definitely succeed. I simply grasped the weightless ring with my hands and, closing my eyes, merged with the bound element of Air. And I immediately realized it was a mistake. First, it felt like a hurricane ripped through me, and then a terrible pain pierced my entire body, burning me from within. But, paralyzed, I couldn't even scream or ease my suffering.

//“Dump it, dump the energy, you idiot!” cried the frantic imp.

//“I can’t…” I managed to form a response, feeling like I was losing consciousness.

//“Let me fix everything!” the worried imp suggested.

//“Go ahead…” I agreed.

The Horned One vanished, and my hands suddenly began to move of their own accord. They jerked away from Engel and grabbed the amulet hanging around my neck. And the fire consuming me from within faded. The excruciating pain subsided, leaving behind a trembling and debilitating weakness.

"Kar, what's wrong?" Angel shook me. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, nothing, everything's fine," I tried to smile. "Sir Roderick cooked up a powerful thing."

"But how did you disembody it?" the girl asked in amazement, feeling her neck. "It's a practically indestructible elemental artifact!"

“Just luck,” I chuckled.

//"Yeah, she was just lucky," the imp muttered. "Incredibly lucky to have met a complete fool who knows nothing and isn't afraid of death." He glared at me, tapped his forehead with his fist, and said with annoyance, "Do you even have any sense, you thick-headed idiot? And if it weren't for me? Your energy shell would have burned out instantly! And you'd be dying in agony by now! And no one would have been able to help you!"

//“Thank you,” I sincerely thanked the frowning tailed one.

And the imp grumbled: “Be thankful that you had a practically empty energy container, otherwise nothing would have worked out.”

"Well, now I can really make a successful escape," the delighted girl declared. "Thank you, Kar!" And in a burst of emotion, she kissed me on the cheek.

"You're welcome," I shrugged awkwardly. And, looking into the girl's suspiciously shining eyes, I said, "Go to our room and rummage through my bag. You can get some money for the trip. And grab the bolt thrower."

“Okay,” Angel nodded, looking at me with gratitude, and thanked me again: “Thank you very much, Kar.”

"Better not thank me, but hit me on the head," I said a little rudely. "So that I'll have a reason to say you knocked me out and ran away."

"I'll do that," Angele thought, nodded decisively, and after a moment's hesitation, added, "And there's something else I wanted to say, Kar... I'm really not an Aquitanian agent... And no enemies of the Empire supplied me with weapons... Then, after the game, an old friend of my father's helped me... He's just quite rich, and buying equipment for me didn't cost him much money..."

My face fell. Could this really be...

The guess that flashed through my head didn’t have time to take shape before it was destroyed by an explosion of multi-colored sparks that flared before my eyes.

From the report of Un-Tarkh Renier to the deputy head of the First Department of the Secret Service, As-Tarkh Covan, dated the tenth day of the sixteenth decade of the year four hundred and fifty-seven

...the search for the fugitive criminal was thwarted because, during the search operation, the task force encountered members of a dark coven who had summoned demons. In accordance with the prevailing directive, I decided that it was necessary to change the priority of the team's tasks and detain the perpetrators. As a result of the ensuing firefight, three government employees were slightly injured, and both demonologists were killed. After that, the search operation had to be called off due to insufficient forces available to comb the area. I considered it unacceptable to split the group into smaller units, given the criminal's combat capabilities and the equipment at her disposal. It has been established that during her escape, she stole an amulet belonging to the senior escort with a “Reflective Shield of Light,” a medallion with a kinetic shield of at least second class, and a crossbow with ammunition carrying a magical component of volumetric action.

Additional forces were only able to join the search at dawn, but blocking off and combing the area adjacent to the inn yielded no results. Attempts to locate the criminal using search spells designed to detect the elemental object in her possession were also unsuccessful.

* * *

"Oh-oh..." I groaned, coming to my senses. My whole body hurt terribly! It felt like I'd been kicked for a long time while I was unconscious.

"Finally woke up!" someone said with satisfaction.

And another added in a grumpy voice:

"It's time to realize that I'm not mistaken in my assessments, Un-Tarkh. When I said that the victim would recover in a couple of days if his body could handle it, that's what will happen."

“I remember very well what you said, Tier Sanot,” the Secret Service employee I knew, Ron, waved his interlocutor away with a little irritation. Only now was I able to make out his face through the foggy veil obscuring my vision.

“How did you end up here?” I was so surprised that I immediately forgot about the pain.

"Yes, because of you," the Un-Tarkh muttered with hostility, casting a stern glance at me. But then, sighing wearily, he finished rather pacifically: "At least you're alive, guard. To be honest, at first we doubted you'd pull through."

"Is it really that bad?" I asked worriedly, paying attention to my sensations. My whole body ached, but I didn't feel like I was on my deathbed.

"It was bad," Tier Sanot intervened. "The entire back of your head was crushed. Plus, there was massive blood loss. And on top of that, the demonic venom from the claws of the creature you killed was absorbed into your blood. So, thank fate, boy—it's a real miracle you survived."

"Yes, indeed, thank fate," the Un-Tarлh nodded, his face darkening. "And your mortal wounds. For if not for them, you would not have escaped a harsh interrogation in the field about the whereabouts of your charge."

"What, did she run away?" I feigned concern and then sighed with relief. "But she has this... what's it called... collar made of pure Air radiating energy!"

"We spent two days searching for the fugitive criminal and still haven't managed to locate him," the gray-uniformed man smiled sourly. And, casting an appraising glance at me, he asked, "Do you have anything to tell me about the events of that fateful night?"

"Well, demons appeared..." Putting on a thoughtful look, I began to remember.

"Let's leave that aside," the Un-Tarkh waved his hand impatiently. "What happened after you dealt with the demons with the criminal's help?"

"I don't remember," I replied, blinking my eyes in confusion. "The demon attacked me... It started tearing at me with its claws... But Angel quickly subdued it... And then I lost consciousness, and that was it..."

"Not much," the Un-Tarkh grimaced. "However, that was to be expected." He shared his thoughts with Tier Sanot: "Apparently, the criminal quickly realized that the threat from the creatures from the Underworld no longer existed, and immediately decided to remove her only escort at the time from the scene. Just in case."

- Yes, that's most likely exactly what happened, he nodded. - Conspiracy with the criminal and her faking a blow to the guard's head is out of the question here. The guy really did miraculously survive. Even his taliar might not have been able to cope with that.

//“Imp!” I called to the horned one, frowning with concern.

//“What do you want?” the horned one asked kindly, appearing before me in the blink of an eye.

//"Tell me, did I really almost die? Did Angel beat me to death? And if it weren't for my accelerated regeneration, I wouldn't have woken up at all?"

//“The fact that you survived is truly a miracle,” the imp confirmed, and suddenly his eyes flashed angrily in the direction of Tier Sanot: “And a great relief for this idiot and amateur!”

//“What do you mean by this?” I didn’t understand.

//"Yes, that donkey-headed, self-confident fool, without bothering to examine you properly, made a verdict based solely on an external examination! And she set out to get you back on your feet in the simplest way possible—by saturating your body with an additional amount of vital energy! Even though you already had more than enough! — The imp blurted out indignantly. — He nearly destroyed the energy structure of your body, which was already in terrible condition after your abuse! And you really almost died from that kind of treatment!"

//"So, Angel has nothing to do with this?" I clarified, sighing with relief. The fact that the healer had screwed up the treatment wasn't that important. I was still alive, and that was the main thing.

//"What about her?" The imp asked irritably, jerking his head toward Sanot. "That one, realizing what he'd done, came up with all sorts of horrors about your fatal wounds! He apparently didn't dare to go to his superiors and admit that with his careless actions, he'd killed a perfectly living man, instead of quickly bringing him back to his senses as ordered!"

After looking at me carefully, the Un-Tarkh said:

- I confess, guard, at first the working hypothesis was the existence of a conspiracy between you and the criminal... Almost all the facts pointed to this. You freed the killer from the necklace that was restricting her magical abilities, and that childish trick with your stunning, to create the impression that you could not prevent her escape.

"Why a trick?" I pretended to be indignant.

"Because it's stupid," the gray-coated man explained. "Why knock out a man who can't prevent the escape anyway? After all, judging by the marks at the site of your fight with the demons, you should have lost consciousness very soon from blood loss... And the demonic poison had already begun to take effect. So it's a fact—no matter how much you wanted to, you couldn't stop the criminal. And the fact that Angel de Sameri treated your wound before your escape fits in with your cooperation." Rubbing his chin, the Un-Tarkh added thoughtfully, "There is one serious inconsistency in this whole matter, though... They hit you on the head with a serious blow, intending to kill, not stun."

“So what now?” I asked cautiously. “Will there be an inquiry?”

"That's up to the capital to decide," the gray-uniformed man shrugged. "And I personally have no questions for you. Everything is clear, even without an inquiry. The only thing that remains unclear is how the criminal managed to get rid of the Air ring, but you're unlikely to be able to clarify that. As for whether you did the right thing by freeing dу Sameri from the necklace that was shackling her abilities, that's for those higher up to decide. I wasn't asked to pass judgment on your actions."

"I see," I sighed. I really didn't want to get involved with the capital's mentalist magicians, but it seemed I'd have to.

"So, rest for now, get your fill, and once you're back to normal, resume your previous route," the Un-Tarkh gave me my immediate assignment. "They're eagerly awaiting your return in the capital."

“What about my guys?” I asked.

"They departed back for Kelm yesterday," the Un-Tarch informed me. "They took their fallen comrades away for burial..."

"Oh, what a mess," I thought, feeling gloomy as I remembered Burim and Gregor. And I said sadly, “What am I going to tell their families when I get back?”

"Just say the boys died a heroic death defending people from the evil spirits, that's all," the Un-Tarkh quietly advised, then remarked, "And there won't be much to say anyway. The escort was specifically selected with guards with a minimum of family ties."

"What does this mean?" I gritted my teeth, barely grasping the meaning of the phrase. "Did you initially expect there to be casualties?"

"Anything could have happened," the grey-uniformed man diplomatically avoided answering. "By the time we got to the scene..."

"You let us go ahead, and you followed behind?" The realization dawned on me that our escort had been used as bait, not truly trusted to act independently.

"Yes, a combat response team was hot on your heels," the Un-Tarkh admitted, shaking his head regretfully. "But it wasn't very helpful. We simply didn't have time to help repel the demon attack, and to find a fugitive with a beacon like that..."

"Is there even a chance of catching her?" I quickly asked.

“Yes, of course,” nodded the un-tarkh. "Extremely slim, unfortunately. Considering that she was well equipped, having stolen your medallion with a kinetic shield, a protective amulet, and one of your comrades' rocket launchers with a full combat load. So even if we catch her, she'll hardly be alive. And that, as you understand, is a complete failure.“ And, looking at me, he waved his hand: ”All right, guard, get well. I've made arrangements with the innkeeper to look after you. Rons has your new orders. He'll take you to the capital. And I'm off to Masher. I'll try to catch the fugitive there and prevent her from escaping by sea."

“Good luck to you,” I wished somewhat hypocritically, hoping with all my heart that Angel would still manage to leave the Empire without getting caught.

"And this is something extremely necessary and useful in your situation — a restorative elixir, created according to my recipe," Tier Sanot pointed to the bottle standing on the bedside table. "Take a small glass of it three times a day to quickly get back into shape." And after a moment's thought, he added, "Drink the elixir before meals; it's more beneficial that way."

"Of course," I assured the healer, instantly deciding that this wonderful restorative elixir would go straight to the outhouse. I still wanted to live, after all.

The grey uniform waved goodbye once more and relieved me of his presence. Tier Sanot followed him out. I closed my eyes and gave myself over to gloomy thoughts. I shouldn't have sent Covan away with his offer to lead the escort; I really shouldn't have. It would have backfired on me, but so what? At least Burim and Gregor might have stayed alive... If they had had a better foreman. Any one of our men would have been better than me in command. Tak Gallo, who earned the unflattering nickname “The Gravedigger” among the Kelm guards, lost only seven men in seven years as a corporal. And I lost two in two days... It's just awful!

But I was not allowed to indulge in despondency for long. First, the innkeeper looked into the room where I was staying: he showered me with praise for my heroism and promised to provide me with the best care until I was fully recovered. Following him, a pretty maid appeared, carrying a tray full of delicacies, and set about feeding me with her own hands, as if I were some frail old man. Fortunately, Rons soon arrived and helped me fend off her excessive care and send the servant away. However, Salma, the maid, glanced in my direction and promised to return soon and take care of me properly.

Rons and I drink the guys, and I was finally enlightened about the events I had missed while unconscious. On that ill-fated night, the combat group led by un- tarkh Ron Renier appeared at the inn literally fifteen minutes after the end of the skirmish with the demons. The healer and the supply mage immediately began helping the wounded, Renier's assistant and his men began questioning witnesses, and the rest of the squad rushed to search for the fugitive. But the night search yielded no results. The only thing they managed to do was catch a couple of minions of the Dark Coven who had summoned the demons into our world, sacrificing a boy who was helping the stablehands. It's just a pity they couldn't be taken alive.

In the morning, a whole detachment of mounted rangers was brought to the inn, and a thorough search of the area was conducted, but even this failed to find the fugitive criminal. Angele vanished into thin air. A little later, the Brother Inquisitors arrived, interrogated everyone a second time, examined the bodies of the demonologists killed during the arrest, collected the remains of the creatures from the Underworld, and drove away. With that, the commotion died down somewhat, and the inn's occupants were finally able to rest.

And now, according to Rons, there's complete peace and quiet. The merchant caravan has departed, and new arrivals are still wary of stopping at the inn where such a horror occurred. Rumors spread like wildfire. So the only noise is coming from a crew of carpenters who have taken it upon themselves to repair the demon-inflicted destruction.

After talking with Rons, I felt exhausted and fell asleep immediately after he left. And no carpentry work disturbed me. But even after a good night's sleep, I could only get out of bed and immediately collapse back down, feeling a treacherous weakness throughout my body. Nothing seemed to hurt, but I had no strength to move. As the demon said, this was because the energy structure of my body had not yet recovered sufficiently and simply did not saturate my body with the necessary life forces. But with time, everything would be fine, because my horned savior had saved me from slow decay and death with his timely actions. And if he hadn't transferred the energy I absorbed from the Air ring into the amulet, even the archmage-healer wouldn't have been able to help me. No one is capable of restoring the energy structure of a living being that has been burned to the ground. Except for the highest demons or angels, the imp added.

Indeed, after a couple of days, my lost physical strength began to return. I began to get up and walk around; first around the room, and then out into the yard. Otherwise, lying in bed all day long would drive you crazy. Although, because, as soon as I'd recovered somewhat, Selma began to actively seduce me with her charms…

I didn't refuse the girl's affections. And soon I had her in bed. Or she, to be honest, had me. A small reward for the hero and demon-slayer from the grateful woman he saved.

But neither the delicacies served by the hospitable innkeeper nor the charming and accommodating Selma could dissuade me from continuing my journey. Although I was reluctant to go to the capital... I had a sense of foreboding about meeting my new superiors...

Nevertheless, I refused to give in to the imp's entreaties to run away somewhere before it was too late. On the morning of the sixth day after the tragic events that claimed the lives of seven people and left four more crippled, we departed. We threw our belongings inside the carriage, climbed onto the box, and rolled along the highway.

And we arrived leisurely and without any adventures at all in Laidek, our glorious capital. It was truly a tour of the Empire. I'd never ventured far from Kelm before. And then such an opportunity presented itself that there was basically nothing to do except admire the surroundings from the carriage seat.

But the capital itself didn't delight me, though there was much to marvel at. Even on the outskirts of ++Laideck, I began to be consumed by anxiety. What would those high-flying birds from the Secret Service come up with? Would a dark cell in the dungeon and a harsh interrogation await me upon arrival?

At the southern gate, although two carriages could pass under its arch, we were stuck for a long time. The crowds were terrifying! Some were heading to the capital, some were leaving it. Never before had so many people gathered at the gates in Kelm. And here, even the guards seemed to be moving, but the line never ended.

The inspection itself was quick. I just showed my crown badge and my official order, and they didn't even ask us any questions about my weapons or magically-infused bolts. They just glanced at the carriage and let us through. There were no comprehensive searches or anarkh checks like we had.

However, the carefree attitude of the capital's guards immediately became understandable. On the city side, a wide strip of moon silver was embedded in the gate arch, dotted with runes that emitted a faint red glow. The elder brother of the anarkh is a contour catcher of elemental flows. An excellent aid in the work of the guard — it won't miss anything, no matter how well you hide it. It's just a pity that its creation is a very complicated and extremely expensive business. In Kelm, there is only one like it in the Port, at customs.

It took us almost two hours to get to the center, where the Secret Service building is located. After all, Laidek isn't Kelm; it's larger. And all the streets are jammed with carriages and coaches. It's dangerous for a passerby to step off the sidewalk onto the pavement—they'd run you over in an instant. It's a good thing Rons knew the way, otherwise we'd have gotten lost.

"Well, bye, foreman, maybe we'll see each other again," Rons said as I hopped off the carriage at a gloomy, gray five-story building, its narrow, embrasure-like windows set deep into the massive stone walls. It looked like some kind of border bastion, not a government institution located in the safest place in the Empire.

"Good luck to you," I nodded, pulling my things out of the carriage. And, sighing, I began to climb the wide steps of the porch to the massive doors, adorned with the gilded emblem of the third district council.

And right outside the door, security efficiently blocked me, not letting me walk even a couple of yards down the spacious hallway, filled with cold, tasteless marble. It's a good thing I'd immediately pulled the chain with the badges from my shirt. Otherwise, they could have accidentally shot me. You could tell from the look in those vigilant guards' eyes: for them, killing someone is like having a beer.

"Tier Steini?" the clerk, seated at a massive desk in the middle of the hall, asked after the guards handed him my documents. He nodded toward the wide staircase. "Go up to the fifth floor. And then turn left, to the end of the corridor. Report your arrival to Grass-Tarkh Loirie's reception area there."

"Where should I drop my things?" I asked, looking around for any place to store any items I wouldn't need for my visit to the council.

"Take it with you," the clerk muttered unfriendly. "We're not a storage facility for all sorts of junk here."

//"You don't even have a wardrobe here!" I was about to blurt out, but changed my mind. What do I care? I'll go with my things.

Having retrieved the papers returned to me, I grabbed my belongings and climbed the stairs to the fifth floor. Glancing sideways at the Secret Service officers scurrying back and forth through the corridors, I reached a massive dark wooden door bearing a lacquered bronze plaque reading: "Head of the First Department, Grass-Tarkh Luarier."

Looking at the sign, I scratched my head. Had the clerk downstairs made a mistake? Sending me to the highest authorities? The only person above this grass-tarkh was the head of the department... And Covan had said I'd be assigned to the Seventh Department...

After hesitating for a moment in front of the door, I finally gathered my courage and entered. I was greeted by a questioning gaze from a pair of icy-blue eyes. A rather attractive young woman of about twenty stared at me from behind her desk, like an interrogator at a hardened criminal unwilling to confess. I was even a little taken aback. But soon I came to my senses and handed her my papers.

"I'll report on you now,“ the young woman promised, quickly glancing through the documents, rising from her chair, and casually gesturing toward the upholstered chairs standing against the wall. ”Leave your weapons and belongings here."

“I got it,” I nodded and quickly got rid of the burden that was weighing me down.

A couple of minutes later, I was escorted to the Grass-Tarch's office. A respectable office, finished in light wood, where an elderly man sat at a desk by the window, looking through papers. Mine, I think.

"Come in, Tier Steini, have a seat," he pointed with his gaze to the chair by the table. And when I sat down, the Grass-Tarkh clasped his fingers and said, "Well, tell me..."

“What should I tell you?” I asked cautiously.

"About how you managed to ruin As-Tarkh Covan's entire plan, of course," the head of the First Department kindly explained.

"Well, I don't really have anything to say on the matter," I replied sullenly, shrugging. "I think you already know everything from the reports of my subordinates."

"I known, of course," the Grass-Tarkh nodded. "But now I want to hear your explanation of this whole murky story." And, looking me over inquisitively, he suggested: "Start, for example, with why you removed the criminal's necklace, which was restricting her magical abilities."

"It was absolutely necessary, so I took it off," I muttered with hostility, realizing there was no point in hoping for a favorable outcome to the conversation. The Secret Sevice was clearly already determined to pin all the blame on me. But, containing my indignation, I didn't want to escalate the situation and said in my defense, "You know, demons are the enemies of humanity, and any means necessary to defeat them. That night, everyone was in the same boat: the guards, the criminal, and the merchants. If they hadn't thrown all their weight behind repelling the demons' attack, everyone would have stayed there, regardless of their crimes."

"So you consider your actions to free the criminal justified, am I correct?" the Grass-Tarkh summarized my explanations.

“That’s right,” I nodded.

"And this despite the fact that there was another mage present at the scene who could also help you deal with the demons? Even at the cost of somewhat higher losses?"

“Excuse me!” I snapped. "What do you mean, ‘somewhat higher’? Nine people died! And who knows how many more cold bodies would have been left there if it weren't for Lady Angel's help! Because that mage from merchant caravan who was there is no match for her. And even if he were stronger, I would still have freed the criminal with magical abilities! For her assistance would have contributed at least a little to the victory over the demons and allowed us to avoid unnecessary losses! Because my primary duty as a guard is to protect the citizens of the Empire! Which is what I did, using the available opportunities and means!"

"That's commendable," Loirier nodded, not at all offended by my raised voice. "But do you understand that, one way or another, this completely ruined a very, very important operation to expose the Aquitaine agents operating in Kelm? And only thanks to certain circumstances was damage to the Security Service's reputation avoided?"

“And if I hadn’t freed Lady Angel in time, then there’s a high probability that this operation of yours would have failed again due to the death of the criminal,” I retorted.

"So you don't admit any guilt in the failure that occurred?" the Grass-Tarkh concluded with a hint of satisfaction. Then, leaning back in his chair, he drawled, "For some reason, I thought so."

"I am not directly to blame for that tragedy," I declared, staring stubbornly at my superiors. "Only indirectly. After all, it seems that in order to take revenge on me, the followers of the Dark Coven summoned demons and set them upon us."

"Well, everything is clear with you, Tier Steini," the Grass-Tarkh said calmly. Pulling open the top drawer of his desk, he took out two small palm-sized boxes, covered in scarlet silk, and several papers. He laid them all out on the tabletop in front of him.

"What is this?" I asked reluctantly, seeing that the Grass-Tarkh was awaiting my question with a barely noticeable smile on his lips.

"This is your well-deserved reward, Tier Steini,” one of the boxes moved across the tabletop toward me with a casual flick of his fingers, “for the valor displayed in the line of duty."

"Oh really?" I was a little surprised that one of the Secret Service's top brass had taken it upon himself to present me with the award. Usually, that's the job of my immediate superiors. Opening the box, I saw an eight-pointed silver star with a shield and sword in the center. The order Covan had promised me.

“And this is for you too,” the Grass-Tarkh informed me, moving the second box closer.

I shrugged in confusion and took it. I opened it. And stared in confusion at the identical eight-pointed star with a shield and swords. Only it was gold…

"Tier Steini, for your decisive initiative and unbridled courage, which allowed us to repel the demonic attack with minimal civilian losses, you are awarded the Order of the Guardian of the Empire, Second Class," Loirie announced somewhat solemnly.

"I didn't expect this," I shook my head, having overcome my surprise. "You said it was a failure... And here's a reward..."

"Thanks to your actions, which prevented a bloody tragedy involving the deaths of 150 citizens of the Empire, we were able to get out of the mess we got ourselves into with the failed operation, the Grass-Tarkh said, spreading his arms. "After all, you are currently serving in the Security Service, and all your actions count in our favor. And your contribution to the extermination of demons is enormous." After letting me absorb this, the head of the first department continued, pushing a piece of paper toward me: “And this, Tier Steini, is your confirmation of your actual rank of senior foreman.”

//"Ask him, would they by any chance give you an office like that with a pretty girl?" the imp perched on my shoulder immediately perked up. He rubbed his paws in anticipation. "Oh, we'll have a blast then!"

//"Calm down, office-boy!" I muttered, warily examining the document, certified with all the necessary heraldic seals. Of course, the Kelm Magistrate had to certify my promotion, but the Imperial Chancellery has the same rights. After all, our city is a Crown city.

“And finally, your official order and accompanying documents,” the Grass-Tarkh pushed a thin stack of papers towards me.

"Ostmore? Third Department?" I looked up at my superiors, completely surprised, as soon as I read the assignment listed on the travel document. "But As-Tarkh Covan said I'd be assigned to the Seventh Department... And that there wouldn't be a permanent posting, I'd have to travel around the country..."

"Alas, Tier Steini," Grass-Tarkh spread his hands. "Alas, but all the facts indicate that you are not cut out for operational work. And as you probably know, in our administration, everyone serves in a position where they can best demonstrate their abilities and talents. So..."

"That's understandable," I nodded, unimpressed by the words of the head of the First Department. For some reason, I thought I'd never serve in the Secret Service again. I'd gone with that thought, thinking they'd conduct an investigation and, at best, simply kick me out. But lo and behold... The future turned out to be less bleak and went without the extremes of imprisonment and torture. But after that assignment from Covan, my desire to serve in the Secret Service vanished completely. It wasn't for me.

I tried to wriggle out of the new appointment:

"But I don’t understand anything about the affairs of the Secret Service... And you say I’m not suited for operational work... Wouldn’t it be easier to send such a useless person back?"

"Why useless?" Luarie smiled and shook his head: "No, Tier Steini, you undoubtedly have certain talents. And, after some thought, we have found a place in the Empire where you can fully reveal and demonstrate them." And, standing up, he proclaimed pompously: “Tier Steini, you are being appointed to a position of great responsibility—head of the separate Ostmor customs post.”

"To customs?" I was taken aback and immediately shook my head, declining the high-ranking assignment. "I'm just a simple guard! And I know nothing about customs matters!"

"Agree now, fool!" the imp screamed, not giving me a chance to finish and refuse the grass-tarch's flattering offer. "Now! This is customs! The most delicious spot!" He rolled his eyes. "We'll be so busy there!" Then, rubbing his paws, he grinned joyfully: "I can already hear the ringing of those glorious golden circles, I can already hear them..."

//“You're the fool!” I glanced at the tailed creature with annoyance. “What's so appealing about that place? Or do you consider the Secret Service to be a benevolent organization? As if! It's more likely that the gray-uniformed men will set us up so badly that we'll suffer even at the quiet customs office.”

"Calm down, Tier Steini," the Gras-Tarkh said with a condescending smile. "You won't have to do anything new or beyond your capabilities. Everything you've been doing up until now."

"What exactly?" I asked the silent Gras-Tarkh cautiously.

"You will do what you do best - catch smugglers."

"And yet, I'm not sure I can handle it," I chuckled, not eager to take on such a responsible position. It's too much hassle. You'd get buried in paperwork right away.

"Don't doubt it, Tier Steini," ordered the Gras-Tarkh, slapping his palm on the table and rising from his chair. Then he informed me. "You should have been there yesterday. So hurry up. Get the money for the journey from the treasurer now, and set off. In half an hour, Ren-Tarkh Brent's task force will be leaving for Legran. You will go with them. From there, you will take a stagecoach to Ostmor. Report directly to the head of the Ostmor branch, Un-Takh Swoots, who will brief you and explain everything on the spot."

Having given his orders, Loirie extended his hand in farewell. When I shook it, the chief glanced at me approvingly and, nodding to himself, said:

"Well, Tier Steini, I dare hope that you will approach with all diligence such an important task that is entrusted to you, and that not a single smuggler will slip past you."

Before I knew it, I was escorted out of the office. I stopped in the reception area. Looking confusedly at the Gras-Tarkh's assistant, I scratched my head. Then I shrugged and waved my hand. No point in starting a fuss. Since there was no interrogation or other unpleasantness, it would be easier to serve my time and then leave quietly. Without arousing suspicion.

"And where does the Treasurer hang out?" I asked the idle woman at the table, who was watching me closely.

“Third floor, left wing,” she answered me briefly.

"Thank you," I said, picking up my things from the chair. Then, glancing sideways at the pretty girl, I said goodbye, purely out of mischief, in the somewhat extravagantly casual way that aristocrats know how to do — touching the brim of my hat with the fingers of my left hand and saying, "Our respects to you, lovely tierra."

A look of surprise flashed across her cold gaze, and I left the reception room feeling pleased with myself. There, I exchanged glances with the grinning imp and, smiling broadly, trotted off to the treasurer to collect my money.

From the order-instruction to the head of the Ostmorsk branch of the Third Department, Un-Tarkh Svoots, from the head of the First Department, Gras-Tarkh Luarie

...promptly ensure supervision of the object of inspection. Pay particular attention to correspondence sent. If contact between the object “Accomplice” and the Aquitaine agency is established, do not take any independent action against him, but immediately notify the supervisor, As-Tarkh Covan.

Note: Transfer of case materials to the Ninth Department is prohibited...

* * *

In twelve days, I reached the eastern borders of the Empire—Ostmor. During my peaceful journey, I rested well and fully recovered from the wounds inflicted by the demon and my own carelessness. And so I was in an excellent mood. I didn't have much time left—summer would pass, and then it would be fall. And my service would be over. But this time wouldn't be wasted if I could persuade the demon to teach me a clever way to transfer the energy absorbed from other people's spells into amulets and other magical items. Good equipment — and, most importantly, inexpensive due to my abilities — would not hurt in the future. You can't carry a mage with you. And no one would agree to climb mountains to hunt dragons...

Ostmor turned out to be quite a large town. Perhaps even larger than Kelm. Although not as beautiful or quiet. The streets were bustling, crowded, and full of swearing. And there were a huge number of carts and wagons. This was all because Ostmor was, in essence, the eastern gateway to the Empire. All trade with the steppe dwellers passed through this border town.

But I was lucky enough to reach the Third Department building alive. No one hit me or ran me over while I trudged the two blocks from the stagecoach station. Although I wouldn't have risked repeating my walk while drunk. There was, of course, the option of taking a carriage, but during the long journey from Kelm to Ostmor, I'd grown weary of that bumpy ride. And I wanted to look around, to get a feel for this town. After all, I was supposed to serve here.

I was greeted warmly at the Third Department. Apparently, they'd been informed of my arrival. And I was immediately escorted to the head of the administration, Un-tarkh Svots—a lively man of about forty-five. He immediately abandoned everything else and took charge of me. He put me on a payroll and gave me my first salary. Much more than I'd received from the guards. And double the amount, as befits an employee holding a state award. All in all, I got three silver roldo for just doing nothing but riding around in a carriage.

I hesitated to mention that it would be beneficial to familiarize me with my job responsibilities and explain the customs procedure, but Tier Svots immediately waved his hands at me and said that we would figure it out on the spot. Everything would be much clearer and more obvious there. His words left me perplexed, but I kept quiet. The bosses know best what to explain to their subordinates and when. But when we got into the Third Department's carriage and drove out of town, I couldn't help asking questions.

“Where are we going?” I asked the Un-Tarkh.

"To your place of service, Senior Foreman," replied Tier Netvor, the clerk who had gone with us. "To the separate Ostmor customs post."

"But isn’t it located near the eastern wall of the city, near the ferry crossing over the Leia?.." I didn’t get it.

"This is the Ostmor customs post,“ Tier Svots explained condescendingly. ”And you, Tier Steini, have been assigned to a separate Ostmor customs post. It is also located at the ferry crossing, but three miles downstream." Seeing the puzzled expression on my face, he continued: "Leia is a very large river with unreliable banks, Tier Steini, and it is not so easy to find a suitable place for a crossing. It was in such a place that Ostmor was founded. But after some time, it became necessary to significantly increase the volume of traffic across the river, and then another ferry crossing was built, where a separate customs post was set up."

"I see," I nodded with satisfaction, having sorted out all the oddities. "Two ferries, two customs posts. It's understandable. A lot of trade goes through Ostmor. It's not for nothing that this town is sometimes called the Empire's butcher shop. Those same steppe dwellers probably haul meat and hides in dozens of carts."

Un-Tarkh and the clerk started discussing some problem of theirs involving lost papers, and I found myself out of work. So I sat there in silence until I reached the ferry crossing, looking out the window at the surrounding area. Admittedly, there wasn't much to see—the surrounding countryside was rolling hills, covered with sparse grass, barely raised by the recent rain.

“Well, here we are,” Tier Svots declared contentedly, getting out of the carriage, and turned to the guard standing at the gate: “Where is Es-tarkh Bachur?”

“In the tavern,” the guard nodded his head towards the small, squat building and reluctantly told us the reason why the head of the customs post was sitting in the tavern instead of performing his official duties: “It rained last night, so no one was here this morning.”

“Well then, let’s go to the tavern,” decided the Un-Tarkh.

We followed him. I looked around curiously, studying my future posting location. It seemed I'd been assigned to a small village, surrounded by a high fence. There was a decent-sized inn, a two-story stone customs building on the riverside fence, five residential buildings, a bunch of huge barns and pens. And streets covered in yellow sand. Although there was plenty of mud, too. All in all, it wasn't a city, not a city at all... Let the Ostmor guards roam here.

Ess-Tarkh was indeed found in the tavern. He was sitting in an empty hall, sipping light beer. He did not react to the appearance of the Ostmor authorities, as if the rule prohibiting drinking on duty did not apply to him, and the ten days in jail did not scare him in the least.

"What are you doing here, Svots?" After taking another sip of beer, the young officer lazily inquired of the head of the Ostmor branch of the Secret Service, which astonished me even more. Which one of them is actually the boss? Subordinates don't treat their superiors with such arrogance and insolence. Unless, of course, they want to get themselves into a lot of trouble.

“Well, they’ve brought you a replacement,” the Un-Tarkh informed him, ignoring his subordinate’s insolence.

- No way! - the Ess-tarkh grimaced in annoyance. But, turning his gaze to the clerk, he abruptly set his beer goblet down on the table and jumped up from the simple wooden bench that served as chairs. - Really?

- That's true, said Tier Svots, looking at him indulgently and nodding toward the door. - Let's go. You'll be passing over your duties.

Ess-Tarkh nodded decisively and practically ran out of the tavern. We had to hurry after him. To the only two-story building behind the fence. The customs office was located on the first floor, where all the paperwork was done, and on the second floor, in one of several rooms, was the personal office of the station chief. That's where we went.

The clerk immediately began studying the logbooks handed to him, while I approached the wide window. The view of the river caught my interest. The ++Leaya was indeed a large, full-flowing river, with steep clay banks. Here, at the customs post, it narrowed slightly and was only about three hundred yards wide. And the ferry gliding across the water to the opposite bank was a match for the river—a huge contraption that could carry two dozen carts at once.

"Senior foreman, your stamp," the clerk distracted me from looking around.

A somewhat excited Ess-Tarkh handed me a magical seal on a chain. He was blushing and pale and practically dancing. I also received a stack of numbered customs declarations, which are supposed to record the owner of the imported or exported cargo, the name, and the quantity of the goods. I was also given a register for all persons crossing the border and an entire book listing the customs duties levied on probably every commodity in the world. And a list of prohibited items.

"Well, that's all, Tier Steini," the Un-Tarkh smiled. "You are now the absolute ruler of this customs post."

"What about my subordinates?" I asked, puzzled. "Am I supposed to handle customs matters alone? Inspect cargo, fill out a ton of paperwork..."

“Why alone?” Svots looked at me, puzzled. "You have ten guards at your disposal. That's more than enough to maintain order and conduct searches. And there are no problems with the paperwork at all — we recorded the name of the senior steppe dweller who introduced himself, indicated the quantity of goods, signed it, and certified it with a seal. And we still need to get paid. That's all."

"And how am I supposed to get to work?" I continued to figure it out. "Buy a horse and ride back and forth from Ostmor every day?"

"No, the head of the customs post is strictly forbidden from leaving," Svots shook his head. "You'll be staying here. You saw there are more rooms here, so settle into one of them. Food is even easier — there's a tavern nearby. You can even hire servants there to do your laundry and clean."

“Aha, I see…” I thought about the next question.

"For what reason are you here, young man?" the Ess-Tarkh suddenly inquired, who, realizing that he had indeed been replaced as head of the customs post, suddenly calmed down.

"What do you mean?" I didn’t understand.

"For what sins?" the Ess-tarkh clarified.

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