I never thought I'd cross paths with the "Defector" and its eccentric captain again in my life. I reckon, like me, Larindel did not anticipate another encounter either. At least his boarding team's commander, upon seeing me, was genuinely surprised, to put it mildly. Moreover, the reaction of Shansi Lun clearly demonstrated that my speculations about Larindel's act were quite justified. The elf, as well as the captain of his boarding team, knew perfectly well what consequences would befall the one who destroyed the altar of the Plague God. That's why Shansi Lun is now running, flashing his heels, back to the "Defector." First, he fears catching an incurable disease, and secondly, he fears even more killing me and then meeting an Apocalypse-bringing zombie face to face.
Now I'm concerned that Larindel might, out of fright, obeying not reason but feelings, as he usually does, burn our galley with something ultimate. It would have been undoubtedly foolish and short-sighted on his part, but I remembered perfectly well how he discarded an expensive service set over a trifling matter. He later regretted his actions, but it was already done and could not be reversed. And since fate brought us together again, it wouldn't be shameful to demand what is rightfully mine! This Sidhe bastard owes me for the destruction of the dark god's altar! This thought spurred me forward.
"Halt!" I yelled at the backs of the "Defector's" boarding party, simultaneously pushing Duar, who was standing in front of me, aside.
My cry, it seemed, only gave the elf's combat team even more acceleration, and they disappeared into the thick fog in a couple of leaps at the same time as my feet touched the rowing half-deck of the galley.
Well, one cannot deny these fighters their speed; they can be quick when pushed! However, they can fight too, so I should not force them to the wall. Yes, after death, my body will rise as a zombie, but I will cease to exist as a personality, and I am utterly unsatisfied with such an outcome.
Activating the auras of Acceleration and Perception, I rushed forward. And immediately, with my sharpened hearing, I heard someone chopping the ropes. Most likely, the "Defector" hooked our galley with boarding grapples, and now, to save time removing them, the carrack's crew is hastily cutting the ropes that bind the two ships.
I was very fast, but the "Defector's" crew was prepared for any surprises. As soon as I darted into the fog enveloping the galley's bow, a jolt went through my legs, signaling that the attacking ship had severed its grappling hooks. Through the mist, I could even make out the high hull of the carrack, which had started to move away slowly. But that was something I could not allow until I had spoken with the elf. Therefore, leaping onto the galley's bow, I raised my right hand and reached inside myself, to the inscription on my Core, to the spell "Fire Tornado" of the Itildine Circle.
Single-use spells can be incredibly powerful. An experienced alchemist can create a spell that is a circle or even two higher than his actual rank. When we earthlings learned of the existence of such a possibility in the last Cycle, we initially regarded such spells as legalized cheats. And in some ways, we were right, but not entirely. We were correct in that these spells are cheats. According to the rules by which Ain operates, an inscription on a person's Core can be made only by the Divine Law of Eyrat, which some earthlings called the "System." And single-use inscribed spells are a kind of hack into the "System." A hack that was carried out by alchemists after the gods Fell. Questers, by the way, also seem to use some loophole in the rules of Ain. Because I don't think that these entities have any relation to the old gods of this World, but they freely inscribe on our Cores. For these reasons, priests look very askance at those who use such spells and especially at those who create them. But a man is such a creature that, for the sake of increasing their power, will go to any lengths, even circumventing divine laws! And the very existence of inscribed spells is an excellent example of this statement.
But soon, we came to realize that inscribed spells are not nearly as ultimate as they seemed. Not only is their creation incredibly expensive, and it requires specific ingredients. The production methodology is also based on demon magic! And far from every talented alchemist will turn to this branch of magic, no matter how much benefit it promises. Plus, besides that, making a spell a circle higher than an alchemist's rank takes a lot of time. Specifically, years! No, this does not mean that the mage must stand for years and continuously stir the ingredients, but the process itself was very lengthy, like making good cognac. It was for these reasons that Larindel became so angry and almost lost control when I broke the sealing sphere. Creating "Fire Tornado" was too costly for him, and he simply did not expect to part with such a valuable spell when he stated his terms. If he thought that there was even a shadow of a chance of losing this sphere, he would never have proposed it in exchange for a "surprise." Although he is an elf, maybe he would have offered it anyway - who knows?
Also, because recorded spells existed somewhat outside the rules, they had several rather unpleasant and significant restrictions. The first one is that a person's Core cannot hold more than one such inscription at a time. Second, after using a recorded spell, the next one could be inscribed only after the Ripple had passed. The Ripple, which forms when the spell activates and wipes itself off the Core's shell, causing a mental disturbance on its surface. Different people experienced this Ripple for varying durations, from a day to a month. As my future memory hinted, this interval for me was precisely thirty-six hours.
Because of these characteristics, most mages of Ain didn't even suspect the existence of such spells as recorded ones. Such knowledge was the prerogative of experienced alchemists, priests, and also the wealthy aristocracy, who could afford to purchase such expensive magic and were powerful enough to muzzle the servants of the Pantheon.
But, despite all the costliness and the fact that using the "Fire Tornado" so close to myself would have killed me, I hoped that I looked confident and insane enough to cast it.
"Larindel!" I yelled into the fog. "You owe me! Don't make me use the 'Fire Tornado'!"
At that moment, my voice was literally trembling with overflowing anger. I hadn't forgotten how that bastard left me alone on Gnur! Not at all. Yes, he had motives for such an act, but it does not negate the fact that he essentially betrayed me. Truth be told, I'm ready to forget this betrayal if he offers a worthy price for it, but the elf is better off not knowing this nuance for now. And it's too early to think about this, as the Sidhe half-blood might escalate the conflict. All he has to do is steer the "Defector" into the fog to hide it from my sight and hit the galley with something particularly powerful. Yes, in that case, he would kill me and end up with an Apocalypse-bringing zombie next to his ship, but this undead would quickly sink to the bottom and become harmless to his vessel at this time. Eventually, this plague-bearing corpse would make it to the continent's shore, leading to thousands, if not millions, of deaths. But how much this possible future worries the elf, who by that time will have managed to get far enough away to feel safe, I do not know.
However, he could risk continuing the "Defector's" movement into the fog only if he decides that I am bluffing in my threat to use the "Fire Tornado." Although, why 'bluffing'? If I jump into the water at the same time as activating the recorded spell, I might survive. Yes, in the process, everyone on the galley will die, including Cristo, and I will have to shed my armor in the water, but at least I will get revenge on this Sidhe bastard! The only question is whether the satisfaction of my anger is worth such sacrifices.
All these thoughts flashed through my mind like a bolt, taking less than a second. Truth be told, I myself have not yet decided what I will do when the "Defector's" side disappears into the fog. Strike or cancel the activation of the "Fire Tornado"? I stood at a crossroads, letting this decision hang in the air for now. But each second during which the "Defector" slowly moved away from the galley due to its mass and the lack of wind forced me to tip the scales in favor of one of the options. If not for the fog! But it is there, and as soon as the carrack disappears from sight, throwing the "Tornado" blindly will be an unwarranted stupidity; I could miss and, having lost my only trump card, become a defenseless target.
Just as I thought the elf had decided to take a risk and run away, the fog started to fluctuate from the side of the "Defector." A strong whirlwind appeared, which rapidly rushed towards me. I barely didn't launch the recorded spell in response instinctively, taking this whirlwind for a magical attack! But I stopped in time, seeing the familiar clothes in the foggy cocoon.
A second later, none other than Larindel landed next to me on the bow of the galley with a thud of his feet. With a slight movement of his left hand, the natural fog around us thickens multiple times, and an out-of-place smell of vanilla hits my nostrils. The air around the elf quivers and distorts to such an extent that even from a couple of meters, it is impossible to see the expression on his face. It seems that the elf activated all the magical defenses at his disposal before jumping here. But at the same time, his pose is quite peaceful, and the top of his staff is not pointed at me but at the water overboard as if demonstrating the peaceful intentions of its owner.
"I sincerely believed that your Story was over, Master Raven," the words of the Sidhe half-blood, distorted by magical barriers, reached me.
Before we continued our conversation, I muttered through clenched teeth:
"Visualization."
The Sign of the achievement "Pure Palm of Five Empty Fingers" instantly appeared before my face. Only this time, I opened it fully, including the information about the bonus it provides.
"Look closer. Examine the Sign," I demanded in a firm tone.
The elf leaned forward, spending about twenty seconds studying the achievement, after which his shoulders dropped slightly, and the air between us became clearer - as if he had just canceled at least half of his defenses.
"So you've been immune to diseases all this time!" exclaimed Larindel, his voice oddly filled with sincere indignation.
"Exactly!" Keeping my voice calm was difficult, but I managed to control myself, suppressing my anger and burying it deep down. "The Curse of the Nulgle's Echo for destroying an altar is of Mithril rank, and my achievement is adamantium! It couldn't harm me!"
I deliberately said it that way so the elf would think that I was free not only from divine disease but also from the curse of resurrection in the form of an Apocalypse-bringing zombie. I didn't want Antares' hand to be on my trail, so it better no one even thinks that I was cursed. Surprisingly, it worked! There was no other way to explain that the Sidhe half-blood instantly dropped all magical defenses between us.
"You should have shown me what the 'Pure Palm' granted you right away!" The elf exclaimed, waving his arms, barely avoiding shouting.
"You should have just not run away from Gnur, and then you would have learned everything!" I now returned the anger to my voice that filled me, and the Ruby mage felt it, even taking a half-step back.
"I could never have imagined that you, Raven, being at Bronze rank, possess such talents!" The half-blood retorted, crossing his arms.
"I could never have imagined that the famous Maestro Larindel dabbles in piracy, attacking a peaceful galley drifting in the fog!" I don't know why I said it just now, but the words escaped before I could think them through.
"A peaceful galley?!!" The elf's eyes widened even more, becoming completely round. "But that's the 'Bloody Wave'! A ship run by one of the cruelest pirates in these waters, Tongar Vano! Sinking her is a good deed!"
"The rowing crew revolted this morning and killed the pirates. They're now heading to Tries to surrender the ship to the coast guard," I defended, my previous outburst having shattered my carefully laid out conversation plan with the elf.
"I couldn't have known that in advance either!" The half-blood smirked, sensing he had regained the initiative in our dialogue. "And I dare assume that the slaves didn't achieve victory without your help, Mr. Raven."
"Not without it," I was forced to admit.
What a crafty bastard! How did he manage to turn the dialogue so that I'm almost justifying myself to him?! I needed to take a pause, think about how to regain control of the conversation, but such a break required time, and I didn't have it.
"I suggest we move on to a more constructive dialogue," the century-old elf unexpectedly suggested.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"Agreed," I muttered through gritted teeth.
The Sidhe half-blood stepped back, leaning against the ship's side, and showed me his open palms.
"Raven, I'm going to be direct," Larindel said, seeming too calm for such a complicated situation. "I don't want to feud with you because, honestly, I fear you."
"Do you?!" I needed to control my anger; it was too clear in my tone. "Your actions say otherwise." I took a deep breath and continued more calmly, "You're a Ruby mage, and I'm a Bronze warrior; it's me who should fear you."
"I've lived a long time," the elf said, lowering his hands. "Heard many Stories..." I can believe at least that. "But I've never met a man like you, Raven. And your rank doesn't matter - Bronze, Iron, or even Copper. What's more important is your 'Pure Palm,' 'Monster Slayer,' and now the destruction of a true Dark God's altar with the completion of a dungeon that no one could clear for over two hundred years! And you did it alone!" The elf snapped his fingers in time with his words. "I'll be the first to call a madman anyone who dares to become your enemy."
Such candidness from the half-blood left me at a loss. I couldn't tell if he was serious or lying and laughing on the inside right now. I made a mistake by arguing with him. I should have kept pressing, not getting into verbal battles. However, despite my obvious loss in this dialogue, the conversation so far is going in an acceptable direction for me. Unless it's some cunning verbal trap set by the elf.
I had just opened my mouth to answer when Larindel's facial expression changed sharply, deep wrinkles appearing on his forehead and a clear irritation flashing in his eyes. He was not looking at me but towards the rowing deck of the galley. Sometimes my mind works impeccably, I instantly understood what caused this abrupt change in the half-blood's mood, and before he did anything, I quickly said:
"I'll handle it."
In response, the Ruby mage waved his hand, and an arch-shaped passage formed in the dense fog. Taking two steps, I immediately saw the cause of the elf's annoyance. Toward the galley bow, moving a bit sideways was sneaking none other than Cristo. All the other former slaves still stood on the stern deck, maintaining formation, and only the earthling, apparently, was too curious.
"You're interfering," I said, irritation in my voice.
"Huh?" Cristo almost jumped in surprise, but recognizing my silhouette in the fog, he immediately relaxed. "Raven! What's happening?"
"The 'Defector' attacked us, recognizing this galley in the fog as a pirate ship," I explained, and without letting him interrupt, I added, "I'm currently negotiating with its captain."
"With that... what's his name... with Larindel, right?" He rattled off. "That's the guy who ditched you and left you on Gnur, right?"
Honestly, I don't understand how he's lived this long with such a character. Well, I did save him just yesterday. Without my help, he'd be dead already, so there's no one to blame but myself.
"Yes," I answered succinctly, hoping this brevity would make him shut up.
"So, negotiations then?" It didn't work. Even greater curiosity flared in the earthling's eyes. "How are they going? What should I tell the guys?"
"They're going well," I chose the shortest answer again.
"Really?" Cristo seemed surprised.
"Really or not," I allowed my irritation to show in my tone, "what does it matter? Larindel is a Ruby mage! So if things get bad, neither you nor the entire current crew of the 'Blood Wave' can stop him from destroying the galley along with us." I added, enunciating every syllable, "At all!" After that, I took a step forward and, poking a finger into the chest of the restless earthling, said, "Right. Now. You. Are. Interfering."
"I got it, I got it!" Cristo grimaced in displeasure but nonetheless raised his hands and took a step back.
"Good," I thought to myself, but I didn't say it out loud, just nodded at him and, stepping back, disappeared from his view in the vanilla-scented alchemical fog. No matter how reckless Cristo is, he's not a fool and won't get in the way now. At least, I very much hope so.
"I sorted it out." Returning to the elf, I say as if about something insignificant, "We won't be bothered anymore."
"A good acquaintance?" the elf asked with a light curiosity.
"Countryman," I replied, rolling my eyes as if in tired irritation.
"How curious," the elf melodically chimed, clasping his hands together.
"Shall I introduce you?" I offered, with an evident malice in my voice.
"No!" Larindel shook his head as if dispelling a haunting thought and turned his whole body to me. "And certainly not now." He openly smiled at me as if there had never been any problems between us. "Right now, my only desire is to settle all the disputes that have arisen between us."
"Arisen?" I asked the elf, suppressing a sharp burst of anger. "Fine, let's call it 'arisen,' but both you and I know exactly by whose fault they 'arose'!"
"I admit, I made a mistake." A 'mistake,' really?! He's a master of understatement! "I underestimated you and, most importantly, left the Story hanging in the air," his words are full of bitter disappointment, " - unfinished."
"It seems that the unfinished state of the Story is what concerns you most." Stop! I must calm down! Anger only gets in the way.
"You've gotten to know me well in such a short time." Larindel didn't argue or object. "Perhaps you'll understand that no one will punish me more than I did myself, missing this part of your Story." Here his eyes sparkled as if he saw a mountain of gold; the elf even leaned forward and asked breathlessly, "Or maybe you could still tell me the details of your expedition and further survival on Gnur?"
"No," I admit - it was pleasant to see the sincere pain in the half-blood's eyes due to my refusal. Having enjoyed this for a long ten seconds, I changed the subject. "I didn't expect to meet you in these waters. I thought that you were sailing as far away from the Bastraga archipelago as possible at this moment, wishing never to appear here again, or you were hurrying to the capital city to report on the clearing of Gnur and the possible appearance of a new harbinger of the Plague."
"Ah!" The elf blushed slightly. "You've really come to know me well. At first, I decided to sail away and directed the 'Defector' westward." He gestured vaguely towards the sea. "As you rightly said, 'as far away from this archipelago as possible.' But then I was overcome by melancholy, feeling that obligations must be fulfilled to the end, and so I turned the ship around. It was on this return journey in the morning fog that we noticed the drifting 'Bloody Wave'."
"So, 'obligations must be fulfilled to the end, you say'?" I couldn't help myself.
"You can't even imagine how extraordinary it is that we're standing here, having this conversation right now, that you're alive after what you've managed to accomplish!" Larindel gesticulated with great emotion. "Understand, there was no other outcome but your death! I didn't know about your adamantium immunity! Without it, there were no positive outcomes possible! And note, I told you this! I warned you." He was right - he did. "If only you had shown me right away the bonus given to you by the 'Pure Palm of Five Empty Fingers'!" He threw up his hands. "But no! You..."
"I did what I thought was right." I cut him off; he can go on like this for hours, I remember. "Let's get back to our relationship. You don't want to see me as an enemy." He nods. "I wouldn't want to be your enemy either." A faint smile appeared on the elf's face. "We agree on the main thing. There's just one little detail." I took a step forward, so the distance between our faces was now less than a couple of palms. "You owe me!"
"I can't give you the full price for destroying the Plague Dungeon," Larindel regretfully stated. "I simply don't have the financial means right now. But!" He raised a finger. "You can go to Kyato, and there claim what is rightfully yours."
"No! That option doesn't suit me!" I objected sharply. "Kyato isn't on my way right now."
The officials of the capital city would require me to reveal all my achievements under the supervision of the priests. Both as proof of what I'd done and to assess all the consequences. And hiding Nulgle's curse from them wouldn't be possible. At best, they would lock me up for a year in the remotest jail. Or magically put me to sleep for the same year to avoid risks. So, no matter how large the official reward for clearing the cursed dungeon, it would be better to forget about it. Does it hurt? Yes! But no compensation is worth a lost year!
The elf spread his arms in a gesture of regret and said:
"I acknowledge my guilt and, as a result, my debt to you." And to think how much people used to criticize elves in the last cycle? This one is wiser than the majority of humans I've had the chance to interact with! "But I don't know what could compensate for my debt..."
Here he stopped mid-sentence, lost in thought, deeply immersed in himself, after which a streak of shadow passed across his face. The half-blood seemed to be wrestling with himself, completely ignoring my presence. Right now, some internal struggle was happening in his soul and mind, unknown and incomprehensible to me. Not wanting to interfere, I took a step back and leaned on my spear.
Just over a minute passed before the elf finally made a decision. With a swift motion, he removed one of his rings from the index finger of his left hand. Then he lifted it to his lips and whispered something. Immediately, the ordinary-looking gold ring with an emerald transformed into a wooden one. Very simple, without decoration, just a thin branch wrapped around a finger. With a sorrowful but determined expression, Larindel extended the ring to me.
"Tha-a-ank you," I said quickly, extending my palms forward and stepping back. "I appreciate your gift, but I can't accept it. It's too much for me."
Besides, I don't need a pass to the Secret Forests of the Sidhe! This ring is a sort of key-amulet, allowing one to pass by all the protective barriers of this ancient race. But I don't need it; I don't plan on visiting the Secret Forests. And if I ever decide to do so, it will be on Mithril, and by that time, I won't need any keys. Meanwhile, I understand that for the elf, this truly is a great value. A personal treasure. Something irreplaceable, not purchasable with any amount of money, and not found in the wider world. From the half-blood's perspective, this is a great sacrifice and a giant payment. But that's his perspective. Not mine.
With clearly undisguised relief, as soon as Larindel heard my response, he quickly returned the ring to his finger, and it immediately assumed the appearance of regular jewelry. The wrinkles on his face smoothed out, and he gave me a calm look.
"To offer to repay my debt with money would only offend you..." The half-blood pondered aloud. But he's wrong about the money: I'd be willing to forgive him here and now only for some thousand gold coins! But I wisely held my tongue, not voicing this thought. "I would offer you my complete Story as payment!" He even rolled his eyes but quickly checked himself. "But I fear you don't have a free month of your life to listen to it."
May all the gods forbid me from ever receiving such a payment!!! But instead of this outcry, I just spread my hands with feigned regret.
"So, I thought as much." His disappointment was absolutely sincere at that moment. "Maybe you could suggest what compensates for my guilt towards you?"
Good question. The main thing here was to find the right balance. On the one hand, I shouldn't undersell myself; on the other hand, I didn't want to be so brazen that the elf would disregard all his fears and simply erase me to dust. It seemed to me that Larindel, like Ender before him, mistook me for the reborn true hero Evelan. Especially since the elf, as a lover of stories, should know all the sacred texts, including the one that says, "The souls of Eyrat's sons will someday be reborn in ordinary people, and the two brothers will once again begin their ascent of the Divino Stairway!" So his fears of attacking me, if he considered me a reborn Hero, were justified. But I knew that I wasn't Evelan reborn; I wasn't even a Shard! And as a Ruby mage, the elf could kill me with a snap of his fingers.
The choice was indeed difficult. During my time on the "Defector," I had seen many wonders, but most of them were priceless to alchemists, not warriors. However, there was one item that I certainly wouldn't refuse: the "Sizeless Bag" currently hanging on Larindel's belt. This was an artifact created with spatial magic. A complex magical construct that externally looked like a regular belt bag but internally was much larger than it appeared. The one currently hanging on Larindel's belt, as far as I could tell, could hold contents equal in volume and weight to a dump truck. The cost of such an item in Deytran's market starts at five thousand gold.
Clenching my fists, I forced myself to forget about this bag. Yes, acquiring it now would be incredibly useful, but it seemed to me that demanding this item would cross that very line that shouldn't be crossed.
My gaze shifted to the elf's right hand. There was an elemental ring on each of his fingers. Each of these rings amplified the one-word spells of its element by one Star of Talent. And in terms of price, each of them fell within the thousand I had set for myself as an acceptable price for being abandoned by the elf on Gnur.
"I think restoring peace between us and a Lightning Ring will be enough." Deciding, I answer the elf's questioning look.
As it seemed to me, the half-blood removed the ring I had demanded with carefully concealed relief. He took it off and handed it to me.
"Is there peace between us?" The Sidhe half-blood asked the ritual question.
"There is peace between us," I respond with the standard phrase and immediately put the Lightning Ring on the ring finger of my left hand.
The smile on Larindel's face looks a bit strained. I understand that he is now very uncomfortable being next to me. As uncomfortable as an experienced sapper feels next to an unexploded air bomb of unknown design that has not detonated at the moment. But that's only at the moment, and what will happen the next second is unknown. And if I were truly the reborn Evelan, he would even be right in his fears! Because the younger son of Eyrat was never known for his forgiveness, and he knew how to avenge inflicted offenses, and, let's face it, he loved it. Perhaps for this reason, according to legends, Evelan's mentor, when he began his ascent of the Stairway of Divino, was none other than Kamo, the god of Vows and the Divine Executioner.
Understanding the elf's mood, I casually suggested:
"Since we've settled our disagreements, I don't think you should worry your crew with such a prolonged absence on board."
"Yes!" Larindel immediately bloomed, and an incomparable smile once again illuminated his beautiful face. "You're right as always, Master Raven!"
"Only before you leave the 'Bloody Wave,' could you do something about this fog?" I stop him at the last moment.
"You don't you trust me?" There was sincere regret in his voice.
He's right, I'm asking him to clear the fog so that the "Defector" is within my sight, and if something goes wrong, I could destroy the carrack with "Fire Tornado." I could have joked it off, but meeting the elf's gaze, I held it and said in a matter-of-fact tone:
"Trust, but verify, as they say."
The half-blood's eyes sparkled as if he had just found an uncut diamond.
"What a capacious and wise phrase!" Larindel even clicked his tongue, expressing his overflowing emotions. "Please."
With a wave of the elf's hand, a gust of fresh air rolls over us, causing even the galley to sway. A couple of dozen seconds, and I can easily distinguish the rigging ropes of the "Defector." A thin veil of impenetrable alchemical fog remains only between us and the stern of the galley.
"My intuition tells me that we will meet again, Master Raven." Larindel bows to me. "So I don't say goodbye, but I say 'see you later!'"
"See you later," I respond tersely to him.
And I want to ask a new question, but I don't have time because as soon as I finish, the Sidhe half-blood makes a giant leap towards the carrack from the spot. Almost thirty meters separate the two ships, but with the help of Wind magic, the elf easily overcomes this distance and lands on the deck of the "Defector." In the same second, obeying Larindel's gesture, the sails of his ship fill with fresh wind, and the carrack starts to move away from the galley quickly.