People rarely think about how much of their lives they spend on unnecessary things.
These thoughts always swirl somewhere in the back of the mind, spoiling daily plans with their persistent whining.
And the older a person gets, the louder this whine resonates in the bones of the skull.
On average, a person needs eight hours of sleep for normal existence. In other words, that's exactly one-third of the entire day. One-third of our lives is spent lying flat and just dreaming in the best case.
The next eight hours we spend at work. For the most part, people go to work not because they enjoy what they do, but to avoid starving on the streets.
So, two-thirds of our lives go nowhere. We spend this time so that the remaining third isn't terrible and doesn't resemble a fight among hobos for a warm place under the bridge.
Now, let's subtract the remaining expenses. For example, commute time, even through the subway, can easily reach forty-five minutes or an hour just one way. That's minus two out of the eight remaining hours.
Then, include the time for cooking, laundry, shopping, and other household trifles.
And how much time is ultimately left?
Unfortunately, the life of a warmaster is not devoid of the same problems.
Although daily trifles were taken care of by servants, mission after mission wasted so much needed time on senseless cruelty.
Thanks to prana, warmasters could overcome great distances and still feel normal.
It's just that even with such abilities, days and weeks were spent simply running around.
Besides all the above, a large part of warmasters' missions, as strange as it may seem, was not something interesting.
Certainly, from the outside, it might seem cool to run at speeds of several tens of kilometers per hour, then attack enemy warmasters and destroy them in a fierce but brief battle.
And in some ways, such missions were really not so bad.
But the problems start when the sense of novelty is lost. Yes, battles happen, but for the most part, they end very quickly.
Mei's father didn't lie, and all their assignments were either blatantly easy or, at most, matched their strength.
Considering that they were trained and watched over by no one other than Jun himself, it's no surprise that this stream of missions began to blend into one continuous streak.
To better understand what we're talking about, let's look at a couple of such missions.
Right after the task to steal documents and Stas's establishment of a cell of future cannon fodder came a mission to deliver some important papers to the front.
Simply put, they had to work as trusted postmen.
Eiji was quite dissatisfied with such a distribution of missions and cast annoyed glances at Mei, although he still remembered his promise to Stas.
The half-blood had tasted the flavor of fame. Apparently, his victory over Kirin the Cutter's apprentice added to his points with the Sumada, resulting in improved treatment towards him.
The strong enjoyed unwavering respect among warmasters.
It was then that Jun's team was able to admire the front between the Sansa along with Soru, one of the allies of the air-wielding Avasaki, and the Sumada.
The front line was marked by massive stone walls on one side, then a stretch of battle-scarred earth running through the center, and on the other side, smaller but fortified positions reinforced with numerous water-filled trenches.
If you looked closely, you could understand that Soru, subordinates of Avasaki, managed to change the direction of the nearest river, flooding the positions in front of their fortifications, turning the surrounding area into a swamp.
Jun, grimacing, refused to go to the camp. For a supreme warmaster, it was humiliating to be related to ordinary courier work.
And one could understand him. When you destroy cities, change the rulers of countries, fight with the strongest of this world, and create new geographical objects with your sheer will, it's hard to descend to something so earthly.
In the end, after passing a couple of posts and getting into the command bunker, they simply handed the scrolls to the addressee, a supreme warmaster.
The latter had some meeting, so they were quickly shown out.
After that, the journey back began.
Immediately after this mission, they received the next one. Jishin had rolled off somewhere by that time. However, Stas had already received the names of several trusted individuals from the Sumada, whom he could approach using his connection to the prince.
Certainly, they were not of very high status, and all came from a side branch, but even so, they could be useful.
The new task was no better than the previous one and obliged them to run between a couple of cities for two whole months, tracking all couriers passing between them.
Their goal was to read the correspondence between a couple of nobles.
Needless to say, Stas wasn't surprised when Io turned out to be the client.
From the assignments he issued, one could guess what function he performed in the Sumada clan.
After they were presented with the next mission, Stas was ordered to stay while everyone else left.
"Shiro-kun, I have an additional task for you. Are you ready to take it on?" Io put one of the scrolls into a neat stack to his right and rubbed his eyes. It was evident that he had a lot of work, as the stack to his left was about three times larger.
"Yes, Io-san," Stas was brief.
"I knew I could count on you," Jun's brother nodded, then placed a sealed note on the edge of the table in front of Stas. "I want you to, when you find one of the couriers and read his letter, slip this note into the message. It's thin, so the courier won't notice anything."
"All right, Io-san." Ordyntsev was already waiting for farewell words, yet the situation took an unexpected turn.
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"And one more thing," Io let out a light sigh, then, after casting a heavy glance at the papers on his table, calmly stood up. "Let's take a little walk."
"As you wish." Stas was puzzled. This situation was something new.
Was this a display of favoritism from his sensei's brother? Or did he want to say something that couldn't even be spoken in his office?
A few cautious inquiries of those around were enough to understand that "Io-san" was seriously involved with the Shadow Stone. And judging by his actions, he held far from a junior position there.
In any case, Stas tensed up.
"You know, Shiro-kun, I realized from the very beginning that you are a very active young man," they silently passed one of the corridors and came out onto a large observation deck, projecting five meters forward from the body of the Citadel. "It's just that our world rarely accepts changes."
Ordyntsev tried to understand where Io was leading, but so far, to no avail.
"A born peasant remains one. A samurai will never become a daimyo, and a clanless, even if he marries into a clan, will remain clanless in the eyes of others. The same applies to half-bloods." Stanislav froze.
"You've already understood what I want to say," Io smiled faintly, looking into the distance at the rising stone fangs surrounding the valley where the Sumada city lay.
"My mother was the daughter of an ordinary merchant. Nevertheless, now I am a full-fledged Sumada. It was not easy to do, but I managed. I see the same fire in you that burned in my soul. That's why I'm not surprised that you decided to deceive everyone around, making a deal with the younger prince."
Ordyntsev knew how to take hits, so he didn't react to his interlocutor's words. But the hits weren't going to stop.
"Much more surprising was your joint idea to create a personal army. Your brains, Shiro-kun, and the money and people of Jishin-kun. But from the side, your actions raise a lot of uncomfortable questions. And if other people find out about this... For example, the elder heir. Shall I continue?" Io looked demandingly at Stas.
"No, master." Stas saw no point in trying to dodge. If Io had learned so much and Stas hadn't yet been dragged into the torture chambers, it meant he was still needed for something.
"Then I have one important question for you: why?"
"Goro-sama, unfortunately, is not eternal. Years will pass, but age will take its toll. Izuna-san will sit on the throne of the clan head. As Jishin's friend, I wanted to help him when it happens."
"Friend? Just 'Jishin,' you say?" Io asked questioningly. "Everything becomes a little clearer and, at the same time, more confusing. But what exactly did you want to do? Did Jishin decide that he would do much better in the place of the clan head?"
"Not at all, Io-san. According to the plan, Jishin is to gain enough political influence and power to be able to defend himself against his brother's actions. There's no talk of a coup. Jishin isn't planning to become the clan head." Stas added at the end, seeing Io's tightening gaze.
"I am ready to believe your words," Io concluded after a short pause, making Stas exhale through his teeth. "Moreover, you will be surprised, but I will not hinder you in this matter."
"Master Io, if I may, can I ask you a question?" Ordyntsev asked cautiously.
"Why am I doing this?" Io asked insightfully, and at the silent nod, he smiled sparingly. "It's not very obvious, but not everyone wants Izuna-san to remain the only prince. His dislike for his brother is known to many, but in his blind rejection, he doesn't notice that Jishin-kun will become a very strong warmaster in the future. And if you remember that a big war is coming soon, his talents may be useful to the clan."
Io gave time to digest his words.
"That's why I won't interfere with you. Nevertheless, Shiro-kun, you must be more careful. If I was able to stumble upon your actions, so can someone else. And then you may not be so lucky." The man's voice easily conveyed a threat.
"Io-san, what exactly gave us away? I want to know so as not to make the same mistakes in the future." Stas made a clever move, and judging by the slightly closed eyes, his maneuver was appreciated.
"It's simple, Shiro-kun. Your friend chose the right people, and none of them was a traitor, but their relatives noticed strange behavior and the absence of their acquaintances. Among them were a couple of my people. So I advise you to work out this point better."
"Thank you for the lesson," Stas nodded.
"Besides, I would be grateful if your people would start performing some of my assignments," Io continued, returning to watching the rocks.
'Well, there's the second reason why he left us our toy. And perhaps this reason is the main one. He simply needs unaccountable troops, ready to execute any order. Moreover, the organization of these fighters will be on me, the money from the prince, and Io will just be pointing out what needs to be done. And if anything happens, he has nothing to do with it, it's all the prince himself.'
"Of course, but in that case, I would like to ask for your help in obtaining orders. I would like to register them as several separate mercenary units whose services will be sold. If the Sumada clan decides to cooperate with us, it will greatly help our cause." Ordyntsev hinted at the thoughtful Io.
"Hm, I can indeed help with that. I understand that for now, not very complicated tasks are required?"
"You're right."
"Then we'll register everything officially. A percentage from each such assignment will go to the clan."
"It's a pleasure doing business with you, Io-san."
"As with you, Shiro-kun. When you have a chance, tell Jishin-kun that there are people interested in his life continuing."
"I certainly will."
*****
At some point, Jun promised Stas the third technique for mead. Ordyntsev had a vast choice, but after thinking, he, as always, settled on the option that seemed blatantly uninteresting to the sensei.
The master was sure that young warmasters should learn exclusively what would make them stronger and not master techniques of questionable necessity.
Thus, the third technique became "Earth Control."
A desperately slow and inconvenient technique, the use of which in battle would be simply impossible. Yet, in peaceful conditions, its possibilities were revealed from a new side.
The principle of action was that the prana of the warmaster saturated the earth and began to compact and move it, obeying the user's will.
This opened up wide prospects for construction.
Stas suspected that at the personal meeting, Goro used this very technique to create that hand from the floor. Though his technique was at a completely different level of quality. On the other hand, what else can one expect from the head of the Sumada?
The last months of missions, although unbearably boring, still allowed Stas to train and master new techniques.
Ordyntsev was long tired of training under the open sky. A sudden rain happens, and you have to go back completely wet. Moreover, occasional attacks by local magical creatures occurred.
Now, unlike before, they did not pose a danger, and Leviathan watched the perimeter, but still, such things were quite irritating.
That's why Stas spent a lot of effort and time using Earth Gliding to descend ten meters underground, after which he began to create cavities there.
He did not forget to lead air collectors to the future rooms. Thus, the need to "surface" disappeared. The collectors were arranged so that they did not collect water even in the rain.
The next stage was to expand the resulting space and reinforce the walls, ceiling, and floor. Ordyntsev did not want his future refuge to be flooded.
Progress was slow, and prana was spent very quickly, but Stanislav was not used to backing down.
The biggest problem turned out to be the smoothness of the walls. He had to struggle to level the surfaces.
But nothing in the world is eternal, so at some point, construction was completed.
At a depth of ten meters, there were four spacious empty rooms interconnected by a few corridors.
There was no entrance to the underground shelter. Stas did not plan to invite guests there. After all, everything he would bring there could be carried in scrolls.
Nevertheless, it was already possible to start arranging the first "supplies" in this place.
The compartments on the stone shelves were already holding three scrolls, each sealing six dead warmaster bodies.
Only two of them were warmasters of the advanced level. The remaining sixteen were ordinary.
There were only two from the Sansa. All the others were mostly representatives of some weak clans who, to their misfortune, decided to compete with the Sumada in carrying out missions.
Now, Ordyntsev was about to start his first serious resurrection of the dead.
'A creepy dark dungeon? Check,' Stas surveyed the stone box at a depth of ten meters. The darkness around was dispelled by two oil lamps hanging from the ceiling - creating stone hooks for them was more than easy.
'A mysterious and enigmatic stone block akin to an altar? Check.' In the center of the room stood a rectangular "altar," on which at the moment lay the undressed and unnaturally white body of Kirin the Cutter's female apprentice.
Despite the months that had passed, the girl's body had not undergone a speck of decomposition.
It was as if she was just sleeping.
The secret was in the sealing scrolls, inside which time stopped.
Later, Stas began to fill her body with ether, which destroyed any decay processes and bacteria.
So she, incorruptible, lay here week after week.
After all, a body filled with ether could no longer be sealed as the scroll risked exploding.
Stas lacked the strength to collect the necessary amount of ether in one go and not to become dependent on the ravenous energy.
In the end, Ordyntsev had to visit her time and again, gradually saturating her body.
But now everything was supposed to be resolved. There was more than enough ether for rebirth.
Only the final push was missing.
'Let's get to it.'
The earthling's palms flared up with a black glow, even darker than the dungeon's shadows, starkly contrasting with the snow-white body of the dead girl lying before him.