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Solo Strategy
Volume 1. Chapter 18

Volume 1. Chapter 18

As soon as Tuan disappeared behind the hill, Ender turned to face me with his whole body:

"I promised not to be surprised. I won't be surprised." And he abruptly spread his palms apart. "Let's continue the training."

I was actually grateful for this approach. Meditation helped me to calm the adrenaline and relax. The sparring with the scout left me with a lot of thoughts to ponder. Plus, I managed to maintain two auras at once. Yes, it only lasted a couple of dozen seconds, but that's still significant progress. It's one thing to achieve this during relaxing meditation and quite another to do it in combat.

Today's training ended earlier than usual because the earthlings had to prepare for a new dungeon expedition. And they were even more nervous before it than yesterday. Apparently, it was because they would be facing giant spiders this time. No matter how much I tried to convince them that these monsters were no more dangerous than the goblins they were already familiar with, it didn't help much. Ilona was all green when she left the training session. For a moment, I thought she might back out of the expedition, she was that uneasy, but she managed to overcome her nerves.

This time the earthlings prepared in silence and didn't even have dinner. I did my best to calm them, saying that a sentient and armed enemy is much more dangerous than many monsters in most cases. Moreover, the spiders on the Isle of Un were not particularly venomous, and my companions only had to be wary of their bites and strikes with spiky legs. Well, of course, they also needed to beware of the traps. But this was not something to worry too much about as the earthlings were going with locals who knew the dungeon like the back of their hand.

No sooner had we reached the platform in front of the Gates to the Spider Cave when Lao Fan immediately approached me and offered a rematch bet. To provoke him, I again bet on Ilona, but with odds of one to three. This meant that if my twenty copper bet won, it would yield sixty. However, that was unlikely, as the healer was trembling like an autumn leaf in the wind, glancing at the Door. Ender also joined the betting with the tunnellers. The bets were not only on who among the earthlings would kill a monster first, but also on who would defeat more spiders, or who would turn out to be the biggest loser. It even went so far that one bet was on whether any of my companions would get bitten or not.

When the group loaded with empty baskets disappeared behind the Gate to the Spider Cave, Ender turned to me and shook a wineskin in his hand.

"I have some cheese for a snack, too," he winked. "You were going to sit here and wait anyway."

"No," I shook my head. "Today, I would like you to introduce me to the stone master."

"Hmm..." Ender frowned. "Alright. Weapons are paramount." He slung the wineskin over his shoulder and stepped off the platform, "Let's go."

"The town is in the other direction," I smiled.

"We don't need to go to town," the sheriff replied with a smile of his own. "The master lives in a manor nearby."

We really didn't walk far, just over a kilometer. The Recluse Laoy's manor turned out to be a modest two-story building with a sloping roof, enclosed by a small, waist-high, wicker fence.

Opening the gate, the sheriff told me to wait here, and he himself went into the house. After staying there for almost a third of an hour, he came out smiling.

"Let's go to the marshal," said Ender.

"Did you manage to arrange it or not?" I didn't understand.

"He gave preliminary consent, but he wants to see your yari and the Heart of the Monkey King first, so we'll go to the town, you'll take everything and come back here."

"I? What about you?"

"Why do I need to? Besides, Laoy doesn't like having more than one guest in his house," the sheriff frowned. "He really doesn't like it!"

As we walked to the town, we discussed my training duel with Tuan. Ender made several insightful comments and observations that did not relate to any specific move or combination but to the overall strategy of the fight. For example, he pointed out that I made a mistake by giving the scout time to adapt to my new technique. And this is something that cannot be allowed in real combat. The sheriff was right: if you manage to surprise your opponent, you need to press on, taking full advantage of the situation. It is not so important in a training match, but Ender correctly pointed out the mistake. In addition to this, he also noted the unusual movement of my legs. The locals prefer wide steps, like in old Earth movies about martial arts. However, in the final phase of the training, I often changed this style of movement to using quick side steps. I had to explain to Ender the advantage of this particular method.

"Better control of distance?" He pondered. "Considering that you often struck Tuan's wrists, elbows, and knees, there might be something to it. Even a palm's distance is critical in your fighting style."

"Want me to demonstrate the basic principles of such movement?" I asked.

"Tomorrow," Ender agreed.

Having retrieved my weapons and the basket with the Heart of the Monkey King from the marshal, I said goodbye to the sheriff and headed alone to the familiar manor.

Recluse Laoy was waiting for me on the steps of his house. The sun had already set, but Seguna provided enough light for me to observe the stone master as I walked from the gate to the porch. Unlike his older brother, the owner of one of the two shops in Unudo, Laoy turned out to be a short, plump man. A sort of chubby and lively fellow who couldn't sit still and was constantly fidgeting. It's strange; usually, this type is characteristic of extroverts, lovers of conversation, but in this case, the appearance cliché apparently failed.

After introducing myself, I bowed deeply and referred to the sheriff's arrangement. In response, the recluse demandingly stretched out his hand. I placed my yari in his palm. Laoy immediately jumped to his feet, disappeared into the house, and slammed the door right in front of my nose. That was rude. Very. Contrary to all local traditions. But I didn't demand anything; I just folded my hands on my chest and waited. Not even five minutes passed when the front door opened, and a palm emerged, making an inviting gesture.

The recluse led me into a large, well-lit room that he undoubtedly used as a workshop. There was a massive workbench in the center and a multitude of tools hanging on the walls.

Another demanding gesture with his palm, and I handed over the basket with a piece of dark obsidian. The stone master placed my spear and the Heart of the Monkey King on the workbench, and for a long time, more than ten minutes, he scrutinized both items closely, after which he introduced himself.

"Laoy Guan." These were the first words I heard from him.

"Raven from Seattle." I bow in response.

"What material is this?" The master asked, touching the shaft of the spear with his finger.

"Tal tree wood. Stronger than oak but flexible, like well-seasoned beech. Even wootz would have a hard time leaving a nick in it."

"How much?" The master asked.

"Not for sale."

I expected an argument or haggling, but Laoy simply nodded, immediately accepting my words, with only a hint of regret flashing in his gaze.

"Who's the master?" The recluse's new question pertained to the spear tip.

"I don't know." I honestly answered.

"Very strange casting and pattern..." He waved his hand, and an "Air Lens" appeared in front of his eyes.

Oh! This recluse practices Illusion magic? One of the rarest schools of spellcasters on Ain. And not because it is little known, but because it doesn't have standard techniques and spells and is considered of little use in battle. It is more often practiced by craftsmen or actors, not warriors or mages.

While he was examining the spear, I gestured to ask for permission to look around and received approval. In addition to the tools, the room contained a small collection of various antiquities. These were mainly fragments of artifacts from a past era that had long lost their functionality and could not be restored. Nothing of interest, but curious.

I thought so until I saw a small artifact that resembled a pendant. Dull, dented silver that had lost its shape, which was originally supposed to depict a triangular shield about three by two centimeters in size. But it wasn't a pendant, as there was no trace of any attachment, and there was no way to thread a string or chain through it. What caught my interest was not the pseudo-pendant itself but the simple pattern on it, which was almost worn away. A single line, a closed loop. Due to numerous dents, the pattern's shape was distorted, but I recognized it. This line looked too simple and primitive for anyone local to consider it an artifact pattern. The "Ors" Rune. The Rune of Shield, Protection, and Durability; its exact meaning depends on the context.

If this artifact is from ancient times and was blessed in an era when the Gods had not yet fallen, then I can learn this Rune! However, it is much more likely that this drawing is simply an allusion, a kind of cargo cult, and the image does not carry a particle of the True Divine Speech. In ancient times, similar plaques were embedded in the foundations of temple columns during construction to strengthen the structure.

My hand involuntarily reached forward, but I stopped myself in time. The spear comes first! And if I show disrespect now, the master will throw me out of the house, and he'll be right to do so.

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While Recluse Laoy was examining the tip of my spear, I was observing the master himself, assessing whether I could kill him quickly without raising the alarm. Not now, of course, but before I sail away from the island. Kill him and take the old pseudo-pendant, after which I could calmly study the Rune.

Suddenly this thought seemed incredibly blasphemous to me - it wasn't mine! It was too cynical, excessively cruel. This thought belonged to my memory of the future, not to the present me. Could it be that I changed so much in the past Cycle that I was ready to kill an innocent person for my own benefit? And the memory immediately provided the answer: "Yes! I was." If it were a matter of revenge against the questers, the past me would not stop at anything. Any treachery, any cruelty - he would use it all.

No!

Stop!

That "me" is not my present self, and I hope I won't become like that in this Cycle! The revenge against questers turned me, the future one, into an obsessed person. Someone for whom the goal is more important than any means. But now, looking at this memory from the outside, I realize that in the last month of the past Cycle, I lost my humanity. I turned into a machine, a robot, and although, thanks to this transformation, my past self managed to achieve the impossible and kill a quester, was it worth losing myself in the process?

It was a complicated question. One that I might have to answer this time too. What am I willing to do for the salvation of the world? Am I ready to kill an innocent for a fleeting chance of becoming slightly stronger here and now? Perhaps I might give a positive answer to such a question in the future, but not now.

Not now.

"Respected Sheriff of Unudo was right," the recluse's voice interrupted my thoughts, "I am interested in your spear tip and would like to have it in my collection."

"Will you take the job?" I asked.

"Let us clarify the details," said Laoy and gestured me to the workbench.

When I stood opposite the stone master, he first ran his palm over the tip of the yari and then repeated the same gesture over the Heart of the Monkey King:

"Dark obsidian is a strong material, but for such a narrow cutting blade," his hand paused over the tip again, "I wouldn't recommend it. There's a high risk that the weapon will break at the worst possible moment." When it came to work, the recluse turned out to be quite talkative.

"I understand that. In this case, I would like a quadrangular tip." I showed with both hands in the air roughly what I wanted. "More focused on piercing attacks, but at the same time, make each of its edges sharp - in the form of a concave triangle."

Laoy handed me a slate and chalk, gesturing for me to draw. I did my best to depict what I wanted. The stone master stared at my drawing for a couple of minutes, then frowned, stretched his hand over the workbench, and, turning his palm down, whispered:

"Blueprint!"

As if in an ultra-modern Earth design center, a hologram of the future tip appeared above the surface. A crude illusion consisting of thin monochrome lines, but you can make out the smallest detail in it. This is one of the reasons why craftsmen burden themselves with studying Illusion magic - it makes their work much easier.

"Make this part wider here." My finger pointed to a part of the blueprint. "Sharpen it here. Here, for stability, don't make such a rapid transition. And the edges, let them diverge in width - the wider, the closer to the shaft."

"Like this?" asked the stone master after making changes to the hologram-illusion.

"No, not that wide."

A new change:

"Now?"

"Almost."

"Like this?"

"Yes!"

Yet working with a three-dimensional project is still an order of magnitude more convenient than with a drawing. How can I persuade him to teach me the basics of Illusion magic? In my development plan, this art played an important role. I was actually thinking of studying it when I get to Pentapolis, but the sooner I start, the better. However, judging by the house's owner's character, he will likely refuse to teach me. I watched the master at work; he definitely won't agree unless I find something interesting for him. Some ancient artifacts would have tempted him, but I don't have anything like that, and although my memory holds many caches and places with artifacts, they are all located beyond the Great Ridge.

Carefully removing the tip from the spear, without damaging the shaft at all, which demonstrated his skill, Laoy cleared the workbench of all unnecessary things, leaving only black bronze and dark obsidian on it. Strange. I thought he would kick me out when he started working. But no, it seems like he doesn't care that someone is standing next to him and watching.

Half an hour passed, during which, as it might seem, the master did nothing at all. He just stood over the workbench and looked at the Heart of the Monkey King, and only large drops of sweat appearing on his temples hinted that invisible work was in progress. Suddenly, the recluse took a sharp step back, and his shoulders dropped. He took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Tea?" He offered unexpectedly.

"I won't refuse."

With the Lesser Flame spell, the stone master quickly heated the teapot, brewed tea, and poured it into cups.

"You have an interesting collection," I tried to engage him in conversation, thinking that he was sincerely passionate about his hobby and that perhaps I could succeed.

But instead, I received an unhappy and even irritated look and words that felt like a cold shower:

"Don't bother. I don't like it when people start talking about things they don't understand out of politeness."

"But why?" I found a pretext. "A third of a Taundai shield with the Shaom language inscription is a rarity even beyond the Ridge." Saying this, I didn't even have to specify which item I was talking about.

"What?" The recluse almost jumped; his indifference and ostensible coldness completely vanished. "Are you familiar with the writing of the Shaom language?"

"No. I just recognize its characteristic line transitions. The dragon children did not survive the Fall, and there are no speakers of the Shaom language left."

"Then, what about this?" He took an item from a stand that looked like the hilt of an ancient sword.

"If I'm not mistaken, it's a fragment of a ceremonial vase dedicated to the image of Eyrat the Conqueror." This cult was widespread before the Fall but declined afterward.

"Isn't it a sword hilt?" Laoy asked with a sly squint.

"No, it is made to resemble one, but that's all."

"Correct." The recluse nodded. "And this?"

In his palm lies a mangled fibula that once resembled a dragonfly in shape. Emeralds once shone in the now-empty eye sockets, and the silver body was adorned with gold wire, which is now gone. This dragonfly now has neither eyes made of precious stones, gold incrustation, nor wings made of Tal tree leaves, and of the six legs, only two are more or less intact.

I lift my gaze to the master and look into his eyes for a long time.

"You're sure THIS is something you should show a random customer?" I asked, gripping the teacup so that it could be thrown in the face of the house owner if needed.

"So, you know." The stone master said unexpectedly carefree and put the fibula back in its place.

"Anyone who has seen Sidhe hunters even once will not forget what they wear on their cloaks," I forced through my lips.

"There is not a trace of magic in it," the recluse dismissed. "Now it is just a trinket."

"I didn't think that one of the Hidden Forests is so close to the Isle of Un."

"Oh! No. You misunderstand. There are no Sidhe in the archipelago. The captain of the 'Defector' gave me this fibula." I had already heard of this ship. Quite a renowned vessel in the archipelago. Its captain is famous for something, but I did not inquire as to what exactly.

"An unusual gift."

"It reminded him of the past, and Maestro Larindel was glad to get rid of this object," the stone master dismissed my words.

"Maestro Larindel?" I asked again.

"What, you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"Any boy in the port knows this," Laoy shrugged. "The captain of the 'Defector' is a Sidhe half-blood."

"Oh!.." That's all I could say, but then I added, "They let him buy his own ship? Didn't stone him, didn't chase him away?"

"Maestro Larindel appeared in the archipelago two decades ago, already being a Ruby mage," Laoy grinned.

"I see," I smiled.

As if you could chase away such, yeah, surely! A mage of such rank could chase away anyone he wants in this backwater, then catch up and chase them again. The ninth rank, such masters are rarely found far from Pentapolis. They simply have nothing to do so far from the Inverted Towers. There are few dungeons of this tier in all of Ain, and they overflow once a year, not once a month like the lower-level ones. Only the large and wealthy kingdoms and duchies can afford to maintain a complete group of tunnellers of such rank.

But still, it often happens that after reaching certain heights, a person leaves the Spiral of Ascension and begins to live an ordinary life, like, for example, Sheriff Ender.

A Sidhe half-blood, curious. Usually, peasants beat them with sticks to death as soon as one is born in their village. And only the luckiest among them survive childhood. And even after that, they are rarely liked anywhere, and without a powerful patron, their life often resembles an eternal flight. However, due to their beauty and natural predisposition to magic, adult Sidhe half-bloods find such patrons quickly. On Ain, there probably isn't a royal court that doesn't have an elf. Yes, we earthlings called these half-bloods elves because of their incredible similarity to the creatures described by Professor Tolkien. Only later, when the name had already become customary, did we learn that it was not a separate race but the product of an unnatural union between a Sidhe and a human. A forced union in most cases.

"What do you think this is?" Interrupting my reflections, the master took the pseudo-pendant that interested me off the stand and showed it to me from all sides.

I had just opened my mouth to respond but noticed that the recluse's eyes were too shiny.

"May I?" I extended my hand.

"Please," the house owner handed me the item with emphasized politeness.

Clearly, he doesn't know what it is himself, and he's very curious.

"May I examine it?" If he agrees, then maybe, right here and now, I'll master a new Rune and won't have to resort to any unlawful actions.

The recluse struggles with himself for a few seconds, then nods.

Fantastic!!!

I raise the pseudo-pendant to eye level. Mentally, I try to reconstruct the pattern eroded by time. I reach out to the Core. My prana and mana swirl around the object in a single whirlwind, filling the gaps. It's somewhat similar to the most primitive Illusion magic, but only similar - I'm not restoring the appearance, I'm attempting to awaken the essence. I try for fifteen minutes. Sweat is even running down my forehead. But all to no avail. Either the lines are too damaged, or this is a copy. Which scenario is correct – it doesn't matter. I still can't awaken the Rune.

What a pity.

A shiver ran down my spine. What if I had succumbed to that temptation? Killed the owner. Taken the ancient object for myself. And ended up with nothing.

The thought made me physically uncomfortable, to the point of slight nausea.

"Did you find out anything?" When I set the pseudo-pendant aside, Laoy casually asked me.

"Something." I evasively replied.

The recluse stood up from his stool, put the artifact back in its place, and, turning to me, folded his arms across his chest.

"I've talked a lot with Sheriff Ender and started to understand you, Westerners." He sighed and continued, "How much? How much do you want for information about this pendant?"

"Just general information about how such things were used."

"I'm interested in that." It seems to itch him that there's an item in his collection he knows nothing about. "So how much?"

He is practically shaking.

"I'm not interested in money." My smile is as friendly as possible.

"Then what do you want?"

"A favor."

"What kind?"

"Teach me the basics of Illusions. The fundamental principle."

"You can be taught that in any big city for a gold coin." The recluse snorted. "Assuming you have the talent, of course."

"The big city is far." I bent one finger. "I don't have any gold." The second finger bends. "I can show you what this item looked like when it was whole," the third finger follows.

The last argument breaks through his feigned indifference.

"Such training will take a week."

"I can manage in one evening or one night." I spread my hands.

"Fine. I will give you one night. If you don't manage, if you don't make it - not my fault."

"Deal."

"How about tonight?"

Inside this recluse, it seems a whole storm of emotions is raging, as he is so impatient.

"What about the spear tip?" I asked.

"It will be ready the day after tomorrow."

"That works."

"Then, let's go outside." The owner pointed to the door with a demanding gesture. "Under the light of the stars and the gaze of Seguna, it's the best place to learn Illusions."

I bowed deeply and exited the workshop first.