I woke up early. Naturally, I had a bad night's sleep and didn't feel well-rested. Under the tree, just as the Leshy had promised, I found a small leather pouch. It resembled the ones I had discovered on the bodies of dark wizards. Inside the pouch, there were only five gold coins. I remembered my trophies that I hadn't had time to deal with until now. I took them out of my bag. In one pouch, there were a gold coin and five silver ones, while in the other, there was a small green stone, six silver coins, and twelve bronze ones. I emptied all the gold into the pouch, added the stone, and hung it around my neck. That way, it would be more secure. I placed the copper and silver in another pouch and put it away in my bag.

I decided to follow the river. That way, I wouldn't get lost. After two hours, my stomach started persistently demanding food. I made a small fire in a pit. I boiled some water and ate the provisions I had with me. My supplies were very meager. However, I had no desire to go hunting at the moment.

I gathered my belongings and continued on. The forest had changed. The contrast was striking, as I had covered a vast distance almost instantly. At first, the Leshy guided me through its paths, and then we traveled along the river for a long time. There were far fewer animals now. Even squirrels and hares were rarely seen. I immediately noticed signs of human presence in these areas. Notches on trees, old campfires and traces of human labor were visible everywhere. It reminded me of the forests in my world. Even in the most impenetrable thickets, plastic bottles and toilet paper would be found. It was considerably cleaner here, but people clearly visited these places often.

The sun had already passed its peak when I caught the scent of smoke. Someone was cooking food over a fire. I hesitated for a moment and cautiously made my way in that direction. I was cautiously moving forward when I saw a man twenty meters ahead. He was sitting atop a small hillock, surveying the surrounding area. The person was dressed in a tunic, pants, and a sturdy blue vest adorned with iron studs. I remembered that this type of vest was called a brigandine. Sewn into the fabric of the vest were steel plates, providing good body protection. In front of the person on the ground, there lay a helmet and a shield. He was armed with an imposing knife at their waist and a spear resting nearby. Short boots dressed his feet. The warrior appeared focused and attentively scanned the forest. Perhaps he was guarding the camp while his companions prepared lunch. The man didn't seem like a bandit. Maybe a ranger? It didn't matter to me. I didn't want to encounter anyone in the forest. Unnecessary trouble and attention were the last things I needed.

I made a slight detour through the forest to bypass the sentry. I expected to see the parking lot of a small detachment, but I was wrong. There was a tower a hundred meters away from the sentry. It looked like the ruins of Atzhas, probably built at the same time and according to the same design. The building was square and four stories high. On the top floor, I could see the distinctive battlements, with several warriors on guard duty. Adjacent to the tower was a structure that reminded me of a barracks. The entire compound was surrounded by a palisade. Inside, mostly men were going about their daily tasks. They were dressed exactly like the sentry, with few of them wearing helmets or shields. Each one carried a sword or other weapons. The warriors were engaged in ordinary domestic chores—chopping and sawing wood, carving something, sweeping, fetching water from the well, feeding chickens, and so on. Behind the barracks, a hammer rang out loudly. That must have been where the forge was located. The six men were diligently cleaving the air with their swords. They were almost in sync. It was like a drill. An mustachioed commander paced before them, giving instructions. A little to the side, three young boys were throwing darts at targets. I concluded that this was unlikely to be a ranger outpost. More like a military outpost.

An hour later, I stopped at the edge of the forest. It was an unusual natural phenomenon—suddenly, the forest abruptly ended, giving way to a vast steppe. There were no gradual transitions, no bushes or young trees. It was as if someone had combined forest and steppe and I was standing on the border of these biomes. Behind me, tall pine trees rustle and ahead is a vast ocean of grass.

"Thanks to this home, I continue onward" I murmured to myself.

The steppe resembled a vast sea that had peculiarly frozen in place. The hills resembled motionless waves. Soon, I climbed one of the high hills. I could see a distant river. Perhaps it was the "Silverflow" along which we had traveled. It seems that a bridge was built across the river. I could not see any details due to the distance. Due to the bright sun, it was difficult to ascertain whether I was truly seeing something or if it was just a mirage. The ribbon of the road disappeared among the hills, but it seemed to lead to that structure. After two kilometers, I came to a well-paved road lined with stone slabs.

The slabs resembled those I had seen in the forest. It was possible that the road had been constructed in ancient times. I walked along the road. It meandered alongside the forest, several kilometers away from the first trees.

Walking under the scorching sun was hard. Soon a cart caught up with me. It was being pulled by a skinny horse. The animal appeared quite old and in poor condition, yet it pulled the cart briskly. An old man with a tousled, gray beard was driving the cart. His weathered face had bright blue eyes that stood out. At first glance, I thought he was blind, but I was mistaken. He wore a quirky hat on his head. The elderly man was dressed very simply, wearing a wide shirt with long sleeves and pants similar to mine. He had no footwear on his feet, but I noticed old moccasins in the cart. In the cart, the old man had five small barrels, one large barrel, and a dozen sacks. They looked as if they were inflated with air. I couldn't fathom what he might have put inside them.

"Good day, grandfather" I greeted him, relying on the memory of a young boy. "Could you give me a ride to the city?"

"Hello to you too, lad. Hop on" the old man smiled.

I easily hopped onto the cart and sat next to him. There was a peculiar scent of hay and baked goods emanating from the elderly man.

"Is it far to the city?"

"We should arrive by nightfall," he replied.

The distances were not great, but the speeds of this world made traveling very tedious and long. I grew tired of wandering through forests and fields. How long have I been here? Around two weeks, if I'm not mistaken. It has been challenging, with constant dangers. I felt exhausted. The cart continued to move briskly along the road. I was fortunate. Walking under the scorching sun would have been unbearable. I hope to quietly reach civilization and finally find a normal rest, a normal room, normal conditions.

We quickly struck up a conversation with Grandpa. The horse trotted steadily, and our conversation flowed effortlessly as information poured like a river. He introduced himself as Ferosiy and mentioned that he lives in a village beyond the bridge. He was heading to the city to meet a familiar tavern owner. He had arranged to sell cucumbers, kvass, hops, and other goods. I introduced myself as an orphan seeking a better life in the city with my aunt.

We were heading towards the city of Tikrun, a significant settlement by the standards of this world. Based on the man's vague explanations, I guessed that it had a population of around forty thousand residents. The Second Forest Legion was stationed in the city, with its warriors bearing the hardships of service on this part of the Great Forest's border. It was likely the soldiers from this legion whom I encountered at the outpost. The city also housed the Intelligence Office and the Guild of Mages, forming a veritable hornet's nest, and it was to its center that I was heading. From the muddled explanations of Grandpa, I gathered that the structures of the government in this world were well developed. I hastily concluded that the governance was quite sophisticated. I had no regrets about the incident on the river. Perhaps I was fortunate to have escaped so easily. The crucial thing was to avoid crossing paths with our group. They'll probably head to Tikrun too. Where else could they go? The First and Third Legions were located far away, so it was unlikely that Brin and Petr were serving in them.

The old man told me about the geography of the area.

According to him, the road winds along the entire edge of the forest, from east to west. Beyond Tikrun, about two hundred kilometers away, there would be a small town called Urdak. Not far from there is the Ranger Training Camp. Another two hundred kilometers away is the city of Stad, where the Third Mountain Legion is stationed. They guard the border of the foothills of the forest. It should also be a sizable town by local standards, with its own administrative services.

If you travel south, after three hundred kilometers, you'll reach the huge city of Trage. All distances are very approximate. Ferosiy was angrily complaining about the city, its authorities, its residents, and even his own relatives. It turned out that he lost a month's earnings in a card game there and now despised the place. I understood that it was a regional center. All central administrations are located there, and the governor of the "Nearwood" region resides there as well. As for the specific role of the governor, old man didn't provide a clear answer. I could only gather that it was held by some count. Whether it was an elected position or inherited, the elderly man didn't know.

If you travel in the opposite direction, towards the river, beyond the bridge, you'll reach the small town of Ubzdet. I really liked the name; it sounds beautiful in the local language. The old man lives nearby, in a large village. After three hundred kilometers, you'll reach the major port of Gravk. The First Forest Legion is stationed there. It's also sometimes referred to as the only naval legion, but that's just folklore. For some reason, Grandpa laughed for a long time when I asked it, but he refused to explain. Additionally, Gravk is port to the fleet of the Western Sea. According to the man's words, they're a bunch of idlers who receive money for doing nothing.

On the river "Silverflow", already in the forest, stands a river fort. It houses a permanent garrison of about one hundred and fifty members of the river patrol. It seems that we narrowly missed reaching it when we were attacked by pirates. The pirates nearly sank us right under the legionnaires' noses! What are the soldiers engaged in?

The old man turned out to be a former legionnaire and had a good understanding of the military matters of the empire. The state did not mistreat its servicemen. They even paid him a pension! It was a small pension, but others could only dream of such generosity. Ferosiy received ten silver coins per month. I cautiously asked him what that pension was enough for. Grandfather burst into an angry tirade. From his words, I understood that such a pension couldn't be enough for anything! But... The money was paid every month and the elderly man was grateful for it. Dealing with money here was simple: one gold coin was equal to thirty silvers, and one silver was equal to fifty coppers. The family of the elderly man lived on one gold coin per month, but they had their own farm that provided for them. Now he was carrying the surplus to sell. He planned to get at least two gold pieces for everything. I never could figure out if I had a lot of money or not. I may have enough for a while, but clearly not for long. On the other hand, I don't even have spare pants. The Leshy turned out to be very greedy. What would it have cost him to give me at least a hundred gold coins?

Once, we passed a checkpoint on the road. Five soldiers had set up a tent by the roadside and were sitting in its shade. The men glanced at us with murky eyes, showing no interest whatsoever. Grandfather spat and cursed vehemently as we moved far away from the checkpoint. Another time, a cavalry detachment passed by without saying a word to us. Ferosiy explained that they try to maintain safety on the road, but the results are mediocre. Various things can happen, it's impossible to keep an eye on everything. There are attacks by fugitives. The escapees run into the forest, but they have nothing. They are barely even dressed. Most often they quietly pillage villages, but road robbery also happens. Sometimes creatures emerge from the woods. And just gangs appear in these areas. Recently, someone attacked an administrative office and stole something valuable. The news spread throughout the county. They mobilized everyone they could, but it all quieted down. There was a case where dark mages attacked a treasury carriage. They stole all the gold. How could they carry it all away? The legionnaires pursued them for a whole month but never caught them. As punishment, the authorities stripped everyone of several months' salary. This kind of thing happens very rarely. Overall, you can encounter trouble, but life is no worse than anywhere else.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

We traveled calmly, stopping twice to give the horse some rest. We also had a meal ourselves, cooking a stew over the campfire. By evening, as it began to darken, the city came into view. We swiftly passed through the outskirts and arrived at an inn. Ferosiy suggested staying there for the night. As we rode through the city, I observed the wide cobblestone streets. They looked clean and tidy. The streets of the city were illuminated by magical lanterns, while alleyways and small lanes appeared gloomy. Maybe it's at night, it'll look different in the morning.

We encountered several patrols of guards along the way. They appeared as serious men in breastplates and helmets. Two of them carried small oval shields and swords at their belts, while three others wielded imposing halberds. Engaging in street combat with such a unit could end very unfavorably for many adversaries. Ferosiy referred to this division as "nona". Typically, it consists of three to five warriors, depending on the type of troops.

The houses in the city were built with stone up to the second floor, and above that, they used wood and clay. The architecture resembled the old part of my world. What I saw reminded me of the later Middle Ages. Judging by the warriors, the industry here is reasonably well-developed. I wouldn't be surprised if I saw a fully-armored Gothic knight. However, a knight's prowess is of little use if a mage can dispel them with a wave of their hand, as Illa did to the skeleton. Until there is individual protection against magic, it's all futile, and the mages will never allow such defense to exist. What fool would relinquish such power?

I wonder where technological progress will lead a world that cannot follow the path of firearms and speed. Here, it is not possible to develop speeds exceeding one hundred kilometers per hour, but it is sufficient for transportation. Or is it? I don't know. Aeronautics could open up fantastic prospects for this world. Electricity, steam engines... What else? I don't know, and I'm not interested. I have other goals, and then... We'll see.

As Ferosiy went to attend to the cart and horse, I entered the establishment. On the first stone floor of the building, there was a classic tavern - a wooden counter, massive tables, benches, chairs, a huge fireplace, a staircase leading upstairs, and a small stage for performances. Everything was solid, rough, and worn. Behind the counter stood a classic innkeeper, just as I had imagined. He was a big, sweaty man who constantly wiped his face and bald head with a rag. Perhaps he had some heart troubles. There might be a lack of funds for magical healing, or perhaps the magical medicine here is lacking. I don't know much about it.

There were about ten visitors, mostly men of a simple rural appearance. There was a group of urban fashionistas sitting together, that's how I would describe them. They wore colorful clothes, lots of fabric, wide hats with feathers, golden ornaments, and carried elegant rapiers and daggers on their belts. Now I understand why the town guards are so well armed and numerous. In the far dark corner, there were two individuals who clearly looked like bandits. They had wide knives on their belts, iron bucklers, and spiked clubs. It seems that there are no restrictions on carrying weapons in the city. Perhaps the proximity of the dangerous forest plays a role in that.

I saw three kvits hovering over the table of the bandits. I had never seen anything like them before. They resembled large, annoying flies. What were they doing? It was intriguing and unclear. A gnome peeped out from behind the counter. A typical gnome, the kind you would find illustrated in books in my world. He held a mug in his hand. I didn't bother examining him closely. I pretended not to notice and continued on my way.

Naturally, everyone looked at me when I entered the establishment. It was uncomfortable, but I tried to look independent. I walked confidently towards host this place.

"Uh-uh-uh..." How should I address him? "Good evening. Do you have rooms, food, and bathing facilities?"

The man made an unpleasant smacking sound with his thick lips while rudely scrutinizing me as if I were an object. I had an overwhelming desire to punch him square in the eye. My fists itched with anticipation.

"Five silver coins." The man said it as though he were delivering a verdict in a courtroom.

"Two and breakfast." I didn't know the prices here, but I was certain that his price had been inflated threefold. I should have waited for Ferosiy. On the other hand, I needed to learn to solve problems on my own. Who would help me in this world? Surely I shouldn't rely on some random old guy.

"Dinner, breakfast, and a room, all for four coins." The swine grinned.

"And water for washing."

"Agreed."

"I'll eat in the room." I took a plump wallet out of my bag and counted out the silver. You're so greedy, Leshy! With these prices, I'll soon have to find a job.

"Third floor, seventh room." The large hand swiped the money from the counter, and in its place appeared a huge key. It could easily be used as a weapon. "Food and water will be brought to you soon."

I headed toward the staircase. The gnome, just as obnoxious as the owner of this establishment, followed behind me. What does he want?

I quickly ascended to the designated floor and found the door with the number seven. I slammed it shut in front of the gnome's face. Naturally, it didn't help. Loa passed through the obstacle with a smug look on its face and slumped onto a chair in the corner. I pretended as if I had no idea of its presence, but the urge to punch it in the face it grew stronger. I was somehow convinced that all the loa live in the forest. Before I could even take a few steps into town, I stumbled upon the creature. He irritates me. What does he want?

The room was mediocre. A wooden bed with a rectangular sack filled with straw, a rough wooden nightstand, a chest, a table, and a stool. Next to the window stood an empty barrel with a large copper basin resting on it. I suppose that's where I'm supposed to wash up.

I put the bag on the chest and walked away to the window. Loa became active. He stood up and walked towards my bag. The gnome started feeling around inside it. When I pretended to turn away, he climbed into the bag. That's what he wanted! He's just a thief. He was attracted by the bulging purse I had shown earlier. I charged my body with energy. I turned around, took three quick steps, and kicked the gnome's impudent face with all my might.

Seems like I overdid it. Loa flew up to the ceiling and dove back down, but this time near the wall. I noticed that he had my pouch of coins clenched in his hand, which he managed to pull out of the bag. Clumps of substance splattered in all directions from him, like when I dematerialized the kvits. But Loa didn't dematerialize. The gnome jumped to his feet. He held onto his face with one hand while gripping my money with the other.

"What on earth is happening?" Loa shouted.

I hopped up to him and grabbed his ear tightly. I started twisting it counterclockwise, but once again, I went too far. I felt my fingers losing their grip, and the energy started dispersing again. This Loa beings are too delicate; as soon as I touched him, his ear dematerialized. The gnome let out a dreadful scream and staggered backward towards the wall, but he didn't release the money pouch from his grasp. I caught up to him and grabbed his other ear, this time being much more careful.

"Where the hell did you drag my money, you swine-faced scoundrel?" I hissed in his face.

"What?" The gnome stared at me with wide eyes.

"Are you stupid?" He really irritates me. I applied a bit more pressure on his ear with my fingers, acting cautiously.

"No! Who are you?" The mixture of fear and confusion in the gnome's eyes is satisfying. "How did you...?"

"I ask the questions! Return the money! Quickly!" I pulled his ear upward slightly, causing the gnome to rise on his tiptoes.

"Yes, of course." The frightened spirit tossed my purse onto the floor.

"Why do you need the money, you wretch?"

"I'm a poor little innkeeper's Loa! I help the owner! I'm forced to do it! He makes me steal!" The repulsive fellow quickly blurted out.

"How can he make you? He has no idea that you exist... or does he?" I gently moved his ear back and forth, forcing him to honestly answer the questions.

"How can he not know? The innkeeper? He summoned me! He found some ritual for creating an altar. Now he's my master! The innkeeper leaves orders for me on the altar, and I carry them out..." The spirit quickly explained.

"Don't lie! You're not obligated to do anything; it's your own initiative to steal from the guests!" I began twisting his ear again. "Why do you need the money?"

"You're right, I'm sorry!" The Loa's eyes darted around. "I hoped to exchange the coins for life force with a shaman I would encounter. I need to evolve, to grow."

"How long ago did the owner summon you?"

"About a year ago," the gnome said quietly.

"How many shamans have you encountered during this time?"

"You're the first," he replied.

"Where did you reside before this?" I pulled his ear, ensuring he wouldn't lie.

"In the astral realm," he blinked.

"More precisely!" I already knew where, but I needed to confirm.

"In the lower realm."

"Is the innkeeper a shaman?" I tightened my grip on the gnome's ear.

"No!" the Loa squealed. "He's a fool! Just a regular, non-magical person. A complete idiot!"

"What did he ask of you?"

"Good luck, success in his business, attracting customers, the usual nonsense," the Loa lowered his eyes.

I had already grasped the situation. The innkeeper had found a ritual for creating an altar somewhere and summoned the Loa. And this cunning little rascal decided to engage in his own activities. Most likely, the establishment's owner knows nothing about his misdeeds. It seems the gnome isn't lying; he simply doesn't know that there are no shamans in this world. How could he know? He sits here quietly stealing from the guests, feeding off negative emotions. Is there magic in this world? Yes. Therefore, shamans must exist too. He just has to wait.

In my world, there were similar rituals. They almost always led to the lower astral realm. In other words, to hell. All the filth gathers on the lower astral planes. And the lower the horizons, the worse the creatures. I currently have a weak demon in my hands.

"Marvelous..." I muttered under my breath.

Ah, what a marvelous new world. I barely set foot in the first town I came across, and here we have such a festival. Did the Domovoy lie to me? A simple, fat innkeeper summoned a demon from the lower horizons. Are these echoes from the past? When shamans still roamed these lands, did such things happen regularly? Is this yet another confirmation that the mages were right?

"Listen to me, one-eared creature," I leaned closer to the gnome's face. "You will compensate me for my time. In five minutes, there better be a pouch with the stolen coins lying right here in this room. That's all!"

"But..."

"Otherwise, I will send you piece by piece to the astral realm, just like what happened to your ear. " I created a vortex of spiritual energy in front of his face on my palm. The gnome attempted to nod his head. "There's nowhere for you to hide, you piece of crap!"

"I..."

"Time is ticking! " I released his ear. " Don't even think about escaping! I've marked you, and I will retrieve you from the lower horizon, and then you'll envy kvits."

The gnome hurriedly limped towards the door. Something I had read long ago about this Loa came to mind. A dwarf in ancient African religion... He was described as either one-legged or lame. I couldn't remember... But I vividly and unequivocally remembered that he was evil. What other kind of demon could come from the lower planes?

As I wandered through the corners of my memory, I stumbled upon a distant recollection...

***

For a while, I was deeply immersed in voodoo. I searched for information on the internet, visited flea markets and bookstores, ordered translations of ancient books, and received training from several teachers. But it all turned out to be nonsense.

Once, I stumbled upon a battered book at a flea market. It was an old edition, seventy years old, and it had clearly seen better days. I was certain that its print run was dwindling towards zero. Books like that were always printed in very limited quantities, especially in those distant years. But there it was, in my hands. Old, worn, dirty, with missing pages and no cover. Suspicious crimson stains adorned its pages. It was titled "African Ancient Magic: Voodoo Rituals."

Of course, I couldn't just pass by without buying it. Naturally, I decided to give it a try. I found the simplest ritual, "Creating an Altar and Summoning the Loa of Luck."

I set up the altar on the balcony following all the instructions described in the book. Bones, fabric, graveyard soil, animal parts – acquiring all of these is a separate story.

At three o'clock in the morning, I knelt on the balcony with a knife and a live chicken. Mysterious candles were lit, as it should be - black, red, and white. I recited the incantation from the book and severed the chicken's head. Everything went according to plan. I drained the bird's blood into a bowl and placed the dead chicken on the altar. All seemed well, just as described in the book. Silence. Nothing happened, only the candles flickered quietly. Suddenly, the dead chicken jumped up and started running around the balcony. Naturally, it overturned the altar. The candles went out. The dead bird knocked over the bowl of blood. Everything was covered in blood, and I myself was sticky. It all happened in the wrong moonlight and complete silence. Сhicken ran for about five minutes, then fell and everything calmed down. I thought I would see an old man with a gray hear in the mirror, but nothing of the sort occurred.

After that, I never performed any rituals again. I put the book on a distant shelf and didn't think about it for a long time. I noticed that for a while, I did experience some luck in certain matters. However, I couldn't claim that it was the assistance of the Loa. It could have simply been coincidences.