Chapter 10 – In which they have a terrible night
In the Archmage’s office, where Crimo locked himself up behind walls of documents and spell formulas.
Knock, knock, knock.
A particular knock was heard.
Crimo, who recognized the knocking sound, slightly modified by familiar mana, looked up from the document he was reading and said:
“Come in.”
The door opened, and a well-groomed man appeared.
His smirk had a bit of a devilish feeling to it and his eyes held a hint of amusement.
He silently closed the door and sat down after Crimo invited him to do so:
“Any breakthrough in Purplus?”
“None yet. We will see in a few days. A key operation is underway.”
Crimo asked and the man answered.
Then the silence fell as neither of them said anything.
They just looked at each other for a few seconds.
Finally Crimo broke the silence first.
“You didn’t come here just to distract me from work, did you?”
“Of course not, I came here to share an interesting story. Really, who do you take me for?”
“A person who would spill coffee on all documents in this office if it means I’ll have to take a break.”
“Ah… I already said it was just an accident, didn’t I? I have clumsy hands. “
Crimo squinted his eyes and said slowly:
“This was a cup I specially engraved with spell formula, so you wouldn’t spill coffee.”
The man nodded sagely at that.
“I have magic clumsy hands.”
“You really… Haa, share your ‘interesting story’ and get out.”
“No coffee?”
Crimo just glared and the man waved his hands.
“Fine, fine.” His eyes turned a bit serious for a second as he organized his thoughts and then returned to their amused look. “As you should already know, I was in charge of tonight’s Magic Exchange.”
“Right.”
“An unidentified man entered the Magic Exchange. He presented clearly fake identity papers and then scared the steward boy shitless. He didn’t do anything to him, but when the boy managed to get to me, he was already inside and I couldn’t easily pull him out.”
“Did that man cause a commotion?”
“That would be an understatement, but let me speak to the end. That man requested a bit of time for his presentation. He didn’t write a sponsor or a guild at the introduction notice, but he did write a name.”
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The man smiled meaningfully, as he spoke:
“He wore a yellow fox mask, but the name he used was… ‘Crow’.”
The man chuckled, while Crimo frowned, but didn’t say anything.
“Mr. Crow presented a spell. And that spell was enough to make everyone gathered go insane. He didn’t give it a name, but I think I overheard people already giving it a name… wait, what was it? Ah, the ‘Eternal Flame’. Heh, according to Mr. Crow, it’s a basic fire spell which doesn’t consume mana or external energy after compilation. It sounds insane even to me and I saw the real thing in action. Oh, by the way, it’s totally real. I bet all my magic knowledge on that.”
After the man made a serious vow, he continued, seemingly unaware of Crimo who was staring at him with his eyes wide open.
“Mr. Crow said he will exchange the formula with anyone who can give him a worthy exchange. And then he left just like that. Of course, everyone tried to cast spy spells on Mr. Crow, but you know that too many overlapping spells cause overload, right? All spells canceled out each other, a few people even fainted or started bleeding. But no one got to find out who Mr. Crow is. He disappeared in the magic noise created by spy spells failed attempts.”
As the man fell silent for a moment, Crimo pressed his forehead, saying:
“Every guild in Rubrun must be doing everything they can to find that Mr. Crow, huh? It had to be a mess inside. Are there no clues at all?”
“At their side? Probably not. I’m probably the only one who has a clue.”
“You have a clue?”
The man smiled like a devil.
“Yeah. But I haven't finished my story yet. You see, before entering the Magic Exchange, Mr. Crow exchanged a few words with someone else. That person entered legally, without resorting to any threatening, but when investigating, the guilds discovered that this person's identity was fake. So no one knows who that man was. No one beside me.” The man looked Crimo in the eyes. “When I came here I was wondering if Master Sangria was moving under our Lord Crimo’s orders. But looking at your reaction now, you had no clue about the entire thing. Now, isn’t that an interesting story?”
*-*-*
Amara suddenly opened his eyes.
Something disturbed his already light sleep.
He frowned as he concentrated on his spiritual sense.
He could sense warm lights of living beings and the blend of colors of incorporeal beings.
Even the dead souls, hovering around him.
He ignored it all and concentrated on the thing that disturbed him.
The light of the attendant standing in the corner of the room was rapidly losing its warmth.
But Amara didn’t hear a sound nor did he smell anything.
He closed his eyes again and found the ritualistic knife, he hid under his pillow.
At the same time, he recalled what Ver taught him and tried to sense mana.
As he expected, he felt a flow of mana between him and the attendant.
And that flow of mana was drawing closer.
Amara remained still, pretending to sleep.
‘They know how to block spiritual sense, so they must be prepared to block priest abilities. Simple rituals won’t work…’
Gods’ powers don’t work on those who don’t believe.
Of course, if a stone flies at high speed towards you, it doesn't matter if it was launched with a human or god’s power.
But Amara didn’t have time to prepare such a ritual.
And in the first place, he didn’t have to.
A person cloaked in mana approached the edge of Amara’s bed.
It seemed that they were moving their hands, as the flow of mana started to change.
Amara recalled something Saf said a long time ago:
— Why isn’t the first lesson on magic ‘Protect your body’? I think your survival rate would jump up if you included that.
Amara agreed with this sentiment as he jumped from the bed, launching a quick strike under the armpit and then kicking the opponent in the stomach.
The assassin probably screamed, but because of the silence spell they casted Amara didn’t hear it.
The assassin collapsed on the floor and the magic dissipated as they lost consciousness.
Amara heard the commotion behind the door, as guards outside probably sensed that something was wrong.
He didn’t pay attention to it.
He rushed to the side of the collapsed attendant.
The attendant was still breathing. His neck bare signs of struggle, and there was a nasty wound in his stomach.
The wound was frozen, probably to stop the smell of blood from spreading.
Amara didn’t waste any time.
Drawing on the powers of a few healing gods who offered to help, he performed first-aid.
*-*-*
“That ceiling is really terrible.”
Saffra stared at the fake-gold ceiling and grumbled.
She made herself fall asleep for a few hours, but around midnight she woke up and couldn’t sleep again.
Considering that she needed to be in her best condition in the following days she had to sleep.
But sleep didn’t come.
If it was before her reincarnation, Am would make her some sleep tea and if that didn’t work and she continued to grumble, Ver would cast a sleep spell, telling her that she shouldn’t rely on magic for things like this and just take care of her sleep schedule.
The hypocrite.
‘What should I do…’
She went through things which could help her sleep and finally was left with only one option.
She got up from the bed and then stuck her head out of the room.
Saffra addressed the knight that was standing beside the door, probably on night duty.
“Sir, do we have any puppies?”
“Uh? Young Lady, do you mean puppy like a normal dog, or a small dog…”
“A small, cute, fluffy puppy.”
“... I’m afraid we don’t have such dogs, Young Lady.”
Saffra made devastated expression and then quietly said:
“Is that so? Thank you then, Sir.”
She retreated into the room and collapsed on the bed.
Her plan failed.
Saffra sighed.
“I wish I could punch someone.”
Sadly, the terrible ceiling was too high and wasn’t a person.
*-*-*
Thanks to completely exhausting himself, Vern fell asleep almost immediately after reaching his bed and slept until dawn.
When he finally woke up.
His gaze met with empty sockets of the figure standing beside the bed.
A blurry shadow clad in bloody robes.
Vern closed his eyes and said:
“Please, go away. I had enough nightmares for tonight.”
When he opened his eyes again, the bloody shadow was gone.
He sighed, and then got up.
Beyond the window the first rays of sunlight appeared on the horizon.
The second day after he reincarnated came.