"Phew, I almost reached the summit of the first stage," Vallynor mused thoughtfully, rising and glancing at his white skin. His arms, once as thin as those of children from Africa, had grown stronger, bearing the changes brought by travels and adventures.

Regaining part of his old appearance, Vallynor began to notice subtleties. However, with the return of memory came the realization that his mind and soul were starting to show weakness. The body fought against the changes. Reflecting on this, he remembered that the paths he had walked were previously balanced. Now, as one who had lost the diversity of development, he felt an imbalance, signifying self-destruction from within.

Extracting several rare ingredients, Vallynor began to cast a curse on himself, recognizing that the self-imposed curse should have minimal backlash. He even considered transferring this backlash to one of his servants, recalling Baba Yaga's words.

"A curse is a powerful weapon. You have to pay for this power. I have already taught you how to get rid of the backlash, by making others pay instead of you. However, when you create a weak curse, better keep the punishment to yourself. It might be painful, you may suffer, but this way, you can withstand the power of the curse and avoid the backlash as fate's punishment," he remembered the wise old woman's words.

Vallynor cursed himself, imposing limitations and feeling only slight pain in response. This pain seemed trivial to him, incomparable to the torments that could arise if his soul were torn apart.

After limiting his paths of mind and soul to the first stage, Vallynor felt relief. Sitting on the floor, he reluctantly began to train, aiming to accelerate the development of his body.

Alexander observed from the shadows at the entrance to Vallynor's room, his eyes closed, but he was carefully listening to the sounds, evaluating whether he understood them correctly. Remarkably, Vallynor was training more vigorously than before. Perhaps, the loss of his body made him realize his weakness.

Two hours later, Alexander interrupted the training and led Vallynor to the arena, where a beauty in a white dress awaited. Her long hair and delicate skin reminded him of snow. Vallynor saw in her the queen of winter.

"Happy to see you again, Vallynor," greeted him Mirinthy.

Vallynor frowned, trying to recall where he had seen this beauty before. Perhaps, in group battles or as an observer during training sessions.

Seeing Vallynor's grim face, Mirinthy held back a smile and tried to appear offended. This initially deceived Vallynor, but realizing the girl was joking, he recognized her.

"My name is Mirinthy. You see me in a new form for the first time, but you should have recognized me," she said, swiftly changing her shape to a half-dragon, reminding Vallynor of their meeting at the very beginning.

"Mirinthy?" Vallynor exclaimed in surprise, blinking.

"Giggle, I promised to spice up our conversations and have some fun. Especially with an interesting guy like you," Mirinthy smiled.

Alexander was surprised by the change in Mirinthy's behavior. Usually cold, she now offered Vallynor training and even suggested they sleep together. He remembered the girl's problems, which made her even colder than before. Previously sharper, and after sleeping with a few men, she now remained alone.

"Let's start our training. I'll teach you how to use cold in combat. We'll start with close-combat weapons, where you can demonstrate your abilities. Pay attention to my movements, okay?" Mirinthy suggested.

"Okay!" agreed Vallynor, pulling out a mithril scythe. His arsenal contained many different types of weapons, both those he had received from the old woman and those he had found in the city.

"A scythe? You are a necromancer. Unexpected, but why not a shovel? After all, you often work with corpses, and you probably have to dig frequently," Mirinthy inquired.

"A shovel? Thinking it over, I understand your point of view. However, I prefer to use the scythe," Vallynor said carefully, caressing his scythe. Its blade sparkled like stars in the night sky, ready to shatter space and time.

"Alright, then I attack," Mirinthy swung her sword. However, before she could strike, her movements changed, and she chose a staff instead. Vallynor assessed the flexibility of her style. He skillfully blocked the attacks, but the touch of the cold staff made his hands freeze, as if they were touching icy magic.

From Mirinthy's next attack, Vallynor tried to dodge but realized that his legs had also frozen. Moving became impossible. Quickly summoning help from the land of the dead, he transported himself, thawing his legs along the way, as if waking them from hibernation.

"Slow."

Reflecting on the unexpected staff attack, Vallynor avoided the strike, using his hands and soul magic. Mirinthy, laughing, created a clone from ice and cold, shimmering like an icy ghost.

"Vallynor, you need to be faster and consider a greater number of action options in a fraction of a second. Your fundamentals are in order. Alexander tries hard, but I will raise the bar," Mirinthy said, her words piercing the air, reminding of the inevitability of time.

With the strength of soul hands and his own, Vallynor avoided a new attack, realizing that in this battle, every decision is a step into the unknown.

"Soul hands - your main spell? Why do you use such a weak and ineffective spell? Though, applied correctly, it can become terrifying. And what about their different colors?" Mirinthy asked, her questions sounding like riddles of ancient mages, solving which means mastering power.

Vallynor pondered, responding to the questions, immersing himself in the battle with cold and attacks, as if traveling through a whirlwind of his thoughts.

Alexander, realizing that his presence was no longer needed, silently left, leaving them to fight and communicate.

***

Reaching the door, Alexander gathers all his courage and opens it. Before him unfolds a scene of horror: his daughter, all limbs broken, and black blood flowing down the walls, creating strange patterns, like artistic expressionism in his very life.

Alexander repeatedly tries to decipher what she is trying to write, but finds himself powerless. Instead, he almost loses his mind, facing this nightmare, as if succumbing to the whirlwind of his own nightmares.

"Can't you keep your thoughts for her?" Caesar appears behind him, coming to see Alexander's daughter.

"You were waiting for me, weren't you?" Alexander isn't surprised by Caesar's appearance, but his question makes him think.

"I've developed a method that might save her. But she will lose all memories, like a newborn," Caesar reveals his secret, as if opening the door to an alchemical room.

"Does she have memories? She's just a beast, full of hatred towards those who can still think," says Alexander, as if shedding the burden of his doubts.

"I agree with you. If it weren't for what she drew on all the walls, floor, and ceiling. It's more than just a beast. And I'm afraid this is just the beginning. Something else great and terrible," Caesar feels the weight of an inner premonition, as if anticipating an upcoming storm.

"What are you talking about?" Alexander turns his head to look at Caesar, who stares at his daughter and the patterns on the walls.

"As I thought," Caesar sighs, turning and leaving, speaking words behind him.

"What did you see?" Alexander immediately understands that Caesar has foreseen the future.

"Something very dangerous and better left unsaid. So goodbye, but I shouldn't talk about it," Caesar replies, like a guardian of secrets, taking them with him into the darkness of secret knowledge.

Alexander silently watches as Caesar leaves. Then he looks again at his daughter, who starts making strange sounds and laughing. Alexander's heart breaks into pieces.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

***

A few hours later, Vallynor, thawed out, glances at Mirinthy. She sits on him, giggling and mocking how clumsily he combines his magic and fencing skills. However, she also congratulates him for being not a novice, but rather an enthusiast, still at a high level.

"That's all," stepping back, Mirinthy giggled and snapped her fingers. All the ice dissolved, and the frozen Vallynor in a block of ice fell to the ground. "After all, this magical tool is very useful. It speeds up time several times over. Because of it, I was able to do everything I wanted today."

Vallynor, without responding, tried to regain control over his body. After all, he had been completely frozen, and his muscles moved very heavily.

"That means the next hour is cancelled. I'll go solve some of my old problems," Mirinthy, taking a step, like a cold wind that suddenly appeared, instantly moved her to Vallynor, and kissed him on the cheek, saying:

"I learned about your little problem. It's a pity we can't have fun. But I promise to help. After all, your books, music, and ideas have inspired this dead world and helped me withstand all the torments. See you."

After kissing the other cheek, Mirinthy merged again with the cold evening and disappeared, leaving Vallynor alone. He slowly tried to regain control over his body, to at least summon fire and not burn his own body.

Standing up, he touched his cheek, then quickly moved to his new room, which had been shown to him, and quickly took a shower. Then he headed to the forge, where, as usual, he learned to make weapons. Sometimes dwarves and gnomes came to teach armor and jewelry making. When the time came, Vallynor quickly went to take another shower.

After that, he moved to the library, where Caesar, Gabriel, and Ashley were waiting for him. Ashley greeted Vallynor with a tired look, and Gabriel, as usual, was inventing all kinds of crazy stories.

"Please, could you lend the artifact of time for a while to Gabriel and Ashley, as well as a piece of the Time Butterfly's soul?" Caesar asked, bowing before Vallynor.

Gabriel and Ashley were surprised, seeing how this proud scholar, the father of religion, and head of the whole city asked for something and even bowed. As if Vallynor was higher than him.

Vallynor, not understanding such nuances, simply handed over the artifact. But there was a problem with a piece of the Time Butterfly's soul. Because it had become one with his main soul... But what if...

"How can I give a piece of the Time Butterfly's soul?" he decided to ask. After all, Caesar always knows the answers to all his questions.

"Just give a piece of the soul. Create a soul hand that should touch the Time Butterfly's soul. And when it comes out, I'll cut off a finger with this knife," Caesar pulled out a small black knife, which frightened Gabriel and Ashley.

"What happened to you?" Vallynor, noticing how Gabriel and Ashley stepped back at the appearance of the knife, became alert.

"This knife..."

"Daughter, better I tell him. Vallynor, this knife can cut through anything immaterial, even easily kill a god of lower status, but on the condition that you live until the moment you approach it," Gabriel replied, interrupting his daughter.

"And what's so terrifying about that?" Vallynor understood that this knife was very powerful, but why should they be afraid of it.

"Because even a scratch can lead to endless suffering. The knife is known as the Cursed Poisonous Fang. Also, it has consciousness and can attack suddenly," Caesar answered Vallynor's question.

"But... then won't I suffer forever? Why use such a dangerous thing?"

"It's safe. The soul of the knife is dead, and I can fully control it. I'll limit all its abilities except for severing the soul," Caesar patiently explained to Vallynor.

Vallynor nodded and did everything as Caesar had said. A soul hand emerged from his back, connected with the soul rune, created from the Butterfly's soul. As Caesar cut off three fingers of the hand: the thumb, index, and middle fingers fell and almost disappeared when Gabriel caught them and sealed them.

Vallynor almost lost his balance from the pain, the ancient sufferings that never left his memory. But slowly the pain receded, disappearing, like a soul that can be felt but not so painfully. Pain that could be ignored.

Ashley, seeing the expression of pain appear on Vallynor's face, ran up to him with a look of pity, trying to support him. Gabriel did not like this and even thought about how to accidentally release the soul spikes so that Caesar would cut off another one. But Caesar's look meant not to waste time and get to work.

"Daughter, let's go, we need to push this guy's artifact to the limit."

Ashley confirmed that Vallynor was alright. Taking the time artifact in her hands, she said goodbye and left with Gabriel.

"The full effect of a hero. Hehe, it's been a long time since I've seen such."

"What?" Vallynor was surprised, hearing familiar words.

"Nothing... here. This will be my apology for the rush and the suffering caused, and also a gift for passing the trials and becoming a true necromancer" – Caesar held out his hand with the black knife.

Vallynor instinctively took the knife. He pondered what Caesar had just said. How did he find out about everything so quickly? Caesar turned out to be a dangerous man, capable of knowing all before they happen.

"Don't worry so much. You're about to go somewhere. But don't worry, Alexander will be with you and a small group. Ashley and Mirinthy will not go with you... Let's start the lesson."

Vallynor couldn't even utter a word when Caesar dragged him into the library and began to teach for two hours, until Vallynor no longer had the time artifact.

"Your next lesson will be with Fernando, at his house."

"Understood." – Moving, Vallynor appeared in front of Fernando's house, where a faint melancholic melody was heard.

Knocking several times, the door opened by itself, and Vallynor heard Fernando inviting him in. Entering the familiar house, he headed to the music room, where all possible musical instruments were located.

On the chair sat Fernando, playing the violin. This time, Vallynor did not feel the sadness he had heard on his first visit. Slowly Fernando picked up the pace, lifting the mood. Vallynor without hesitation took a violin and joined him. Their duet enhanced the melody, creating mutual inspiration.

At some point, both stopped, finishing the music. Fernando looked at the tired Vallynor with a smile and said:

"You're getting better and better. I know I've become rusty, but one day you will surpass me. And if you try, you can even surpass my deceased brother. It's a shame he's not with us to meet you. Though there's a chance, not just a fleeting thought." – Fernando smiled, left the violin, and began to play and dance with the flute.

Vallynor looked strangely at him. Maybe he was tired, or perhaps it seemed so. But Fernando turned out to be less gloomy.

"Today I'll teach you how to play several instruments at once."

***

A massive parade, made up of monsters playing musical instruments, moved forward. Behind them followed several monsters, more than half of whose bodies were attached to female heads. Each of them ceaselessly sang and exalted their lord.

In the center of the parade was a small house, which was carried by eight beauties, dressed in white garments and hiding their faces. Two girls were positioned at each corner of the house, holding it with one hand in front of them from their heads. In this way, they transported the house and the one who was inside.

"Halt." – a single word came from the small house. Music and movement suddenly stopped. No one stirred or averted their gaze until they received permission.

Out of the small house stepped a handsome man. It was the Son of God, emerging from his small temple. Dressed in festive kimono, he looked over the small town.

***

Vallynor, having left Fernando's house, headed to the tower of mages. However, a surprise awaited him: Gabriel and Ashley were busy, so he started training with Izelda. The elemental mage preferred teaching over fighting, trying to find herself a partner. Initially, she was interested in Vallynor, but upon learning about his incapacity, quickly changed her plans. Fortunately, Vallynor knew a bit about her past. Intuitively deciphering her psyche, he likened himself to Baba Yaga, noting that her thoughts were as delectable as could be. However, Izelda, initiating an attack using various spells, turned the training session into a real trial by combat.

Izelda was a proud sorceress but was ashamed that Baba Yaga had once deciphered her and consumed her. Considering the terrible power of Baba Yaga, Vallynor wondered why she hadn't cursed Izelda yet.

After two hours of intense fighting, Vallynor used a magical earring and teleported. However, he found himself surrounded by darkness and received a strong blow. Izelda followed him and continued to attack, while Riku's wives also delivered strikes.

"Curse it!" – Vallynor uttered, wanting more to express his frustration than to cast a curse on someone. He received a blow to the neck.

***

"How did he find us? Curse it!" – Allur screamed, running at full power along with his army, while the old monk battled in the city with the Son of God.

"We need to run, sir, and you must regain your strength," – said one of the soldiers, looking at the wounded Allur, who had lost his right hand in the fight with the Son of God.

"We need to move to where the rest of our troops are," – Allur replied.

***

The old monk firmly held his staff, blocking the attacks flying at him from both the monsters and the Son of God. As the latter watched the battle, his face was lit with an innocent smile. The Son of God expected his servants to capture all of Allur's people who were still in this miserable city.

One of the eight women, fulfilling the orders of her lord, returned to the Son of God. Lifting the veil covering her face, she revealed unimaginable beauty to the old monk. However, this beauty also hid a certain horror. She whispered something to her lord, covered her face, and moved away.

"We can stop pretending, old man," – the Son of God said with a smile, stopping his attack on the old monk.

"I thought for a moment you really wanted to kill me… Or, more precisely, devour me," – the Old Monk replied, placing his staff on the ground and sighing with relief.

"I wouldn't mind... trying you. But we're on the same team, so I won't touch you. I noticed you looking at my woman. Did her beauty catch your eye?" – the Son of God said tenderly, extending his hand while the departing woman returned to him.

The Son of God began to stroke her head as if he tore it off, and the lower part of her body fell dead. The soul was extracted and absorbed by the Son of God, who looked at the corpse of his woman, flying straight into the small temple.

"I asked you not to show your face to others," – the Son of God said with sorrow in his soul. He summoned another woman. She, appearing from a corner, quickly ran to her lord. He hugged her and began to cry, lamenting his misfortune. How cruel fate was, that he lost one of his women, and he would have to give life to another.

The Old Monk expressed nothing on his face. But inside, he cursed this madman. The longer the old man listened to this madman, the more he learned that all these women were essentially born out of his love and with women whom he deemed worthy. He engaged in love until he conceived a child, after which he raised a new wife from the newborn girl. But the old man did not understand how this guy could conceive a child and ensure it was always a girl. The answer to this question did not take long for the old man to find. He saw how the Son of God sharpened the souls of women. And those he found beautiful, he kept, while the rest he gave to his wives.