Of course, I could have rushed after Ye Lan, but why? The girl's motivation, her desire to get out of here as soon as possible, is perfectly clear to me. I don't understand why she's afraid of the guards, but there could be a huge number of reasons why an earthling would want to avoid meeting with the city's authorities. Therefore, as soon as the back entrance gate closed from the girl's kick, I slid the bolt on them and exited through the main entrance.
It had been less than a minute since the second assassin ran out of the house, and a small crowd of onlookers had already gathered on the street. Most in this crowd were from our own street, and I already knew many of them, if not by name, then by face. Stepping over the threshold, I immediately showed my empty hands and smiled widely, then calmly but loudly said:
"There was an attempted robbery. One of the robbers ran away," I gestured in the direction where the second assassin had fled. "You saw him."
"If there was one, were there others?" A short, sinewy man who lived two houses to the north shouted.
"Yes, another one is still in the house," I nodded towards the door behind me. "But the guards will take care of him."
My measured words, as well as the mention of the city guards, calmed the people. Robbery, of course, is an unpleasant incident, but it happens periodically. The fact that one of the robbers barely escaped, and the other, most likely, would not get away at all, even brought smiles to their faces.
While I was talking, I carefully looked around the street. As far as I remembered, Ye Lan had thrown two of her darts out the door, and I wouldn't want to leave this weapon for the guards. To my slight regret, I found both darts in the hands of a small boy, about seven years old. Bending down, I gestured for the boy to come to me. I was lucky that the child was on the street without his parents. And since I had a good relationship with the local kids - I didn't drive them away, I didn't scold them, I smiled when I met them - the street kids were not afraid of me.
"Byn," squatting down next to the boy who approached me, I called his name and extended an empty palm, "How about a trade?"
"Huh?" The boy didn't understand me.
In my hand, as if by magic, but in fact, thanks to the Auras and reaction and speed of the Bronze Core, a silver coin appeared.
"You get the coin, and I get those two darts you picked up."
Before I could finish speaking, the coin disappeared, and instead, two darts I had been looking for appeared in my palm. While I thought about how everything was resolved rather easily, the neighboring boy had already hidden around the corner of the narrow alley that led to the market square. He was clutching the silver to his chest, and his eyes were greedily gleaming. Basically, it all made sense. Even such a little guy understood that he would lose the darts anyway. If I don't claim them as mine, the guards will definitely take them later, and getting some money for them is a very profitable exchange. Not bothering to examine the couple of thrown projectiles right away, I tucked them behind my belt and sat on the doorstep, waiting for the arrival of a law enforcement squad. I could, of course, go into the house and clean up, try to hide the body of the first murderer, for example. But the risk was not worth it. If there is someone attentive enough among the guards, my deception will be exposed, and it will cause a lot of unnecessary questions. From the very moment the second murderer ran out into the street, I had no chance to hush up the incident.
The guard detachment arrived fairly quickly by the standards of such a large city as Tries. It was less than five minutes from the first screams, and there were already commands from the optio on the street, urging all idle onlookers to disperse. The five local guards were also accompanied by a municeps, a representative of the civilian authority of this city quarter. This young man, just over twenty, was familiar to me. He was the one who registered me as temporarily living in the Duan family's house. The guards and the civilian official came to me only after they had questioned the neighbors who had called in the guard. When the authorities approached, I got to my feet and greeted them with a slight bow.
"Municeps Saar, I wish you a bright evening," I said, adhering to the rules of local etiquette; I should have greeted first, which I did. Then with a slight nod of the head, I welcomed the rest, "Optio, guards..."
"Guest Raven," the official responded formally but with a slightly respectful tone, reciprocating my bow. "We were told that the house you live in was attempted to be robbed?"
"That's not entirely accurate," I decided to avoid outright lying after some deliberation. "Let's go inside," I invited.
Following me across the threshold were the municeps, the optio, and his assistant, while three other guards remained on the street.
"Oh, I see..." The optio chuckled with a cheerful smile when he almost tripped over the head of the first murderer lying on the floor.
Realizing that there was a corpse, the municeps immediately became much more serious and immediately asked:
"May I know where the owner of the house, Aun Duan, is at the moment?"
"Young Master Duan is currently at the celebration in honor of the birth of Ger Vardi's son," I deliberately phrased my response that way, and this wording hit the mark.
"At Ger Vardi's?" The optio double-checked. "The senator?"
"That's right; the senator personally invited the young master."
After that clarification, the attitude toward me changed drastically. I became not just a guest of the city and even not a fighter participating in the Alchemists' tournament but an "Honored guest of the city." The young official recorded my statements, in which I did not mention Ye Lan, as none of the neighbors had seen her. While this record was being made, the assistant to the optio examined the corpse, and the officer himself walked around the first floor and occasionally asked me clarifying questions.
"Commander," called the junior-ranked officer to his superior after he had turned the corpse on its back and flung open the edge of the toga on his chest.
The optio approached immediately, bent down, and on his face in an instant, tension was replaced first with relief and then with light indifference. Standing up, the officer adjusted his scabbard and turned to the official:
"Municeps Saar, record in the protocol that the dead thief found is not a citizen of Tries."
"But how did you know?" The youth was astonished and glanced at the head damaged by Discharge. "Half the face of the corpse is burned with magic, and the other half is disfigured by falling and blows."
"Come here." With a smile of slight superiority, the optio beckoned the municeps to him. "See," he moved the toga on the corpse and pointed at something with his finger, "a tattoo with the Sign of Dyled."
"And, lying on its side, not as it should be." The municeps nodded and immediately noted something in his report. "They like to apply such in Cisto, but definitely not here."
"Exactly." The optio nodded in agreement with the official and turned to me. "Master Raven, if I am not mistaken, you eliminated the champion of Cisto from the tournament in the first round?"
"Absolutely correct," I calmly respond with dignity and a touch of pride.
"Municeps Saar," the officer turned to the official and, crossing his arms on his chest, declared: "In light of the facts that have come to light, I think everything here is quite clear and understandable."
"An attack out of revenge?"
"Yes!" The Optio confirmed.
"I agree." The officer's assistant gave his opinion. "Record this in the protocol."
Since all three representatives of the authorities came to a unanimous opinion, I did not argue, but on the contrary, I wholeheartedly supported their version. And as soon as this was entered into the papers, and the only corpse turned out to be not a citizen of Tries, there was essentially no further investigation. The city officials, called by the municeps and responsible for maintaining the cleanliness of the streets, removed the corpse from the house, not forgetting to grab the head. After that, they read me the municeps' records, and I agreed with it under the witness of three neighbors. And on that, the local authorities considered the incident exhausted, although the optio, when saying goodbye, advised me to be more careful, as one of the attackers had escaped.
And that's it.
However, this was at least something resembling an investigation. In the cities west of the Great Ridge, there often isn't even that. But of course, I didn't complain; such a formal, nonchalant attitude was just fine for me. If I had been an ordinary earthling, who knew nothing about Ain and was used to measuring everything by Earth standards, I would probably have been deeply shocked by such an "investigation." Moreover, the "past me" was once enlightened about this. Using an earthly example, by the way.
It turns out that what a modern earthling understands as investigation and investigative measures is a product of relatively recent times, historically speaking. This is despite the fact that jurisprudence emerged in ancient Rome. Most countries on Earth still use Roman law as the basis of their legal systems, yet crime investigation as a system came about much later. Before this, witness testimonies made up the foundation of evidence in courts, not gathered and systematized clues. Take the famous Solomon's trials: where in them is the investigation in the form we know it? It doesn't exist. There was nothing similar on a permanent and systematic basis in ancient Greece, in slightly-less-ancient Rome, or especially in the early Middle Ages. And what we understand as the investigative process, with its meticulous collection of evidence, including physical, is a product, surprisingly, of such an "organization" as the Inquisition.
The fact that inquisitors burned anyone at the slightest suspicion is nothing more than a historical myth. And the same words that Galileo Galilei supposedly said before being burned, "And yet it moves!" are also a myth because nobody burned Galileo! He was sentenced to imprisonment, not to burning. Or take the example of Giordano Bruno, who was not burned for his free thinking. According to documents and historical records that have come down to us, Giordano Bruno was convicted and executed for something else. Bruno was a heretic, a supporter of esotericism. And this, despite the fact he himself was a church servant, a Dominican monk! Moreover, Giordano was not just a heretic - he was an active propagandist of the heresy he believed in. It was for this that he was arrested and later executed. But if you look at the dates, two years passed between his arrest and execution! And all these two years, the Inquisition didn't torture the heretic - torture doesn't need that much time - it collected evidence of his guilt. The collection was systematic, competent, and done so competently that by the time of sentencing, several volumes of evidence had been presented to the court by the Inquisition.
Morpheus enlightened my "past self" on this matter, and he also told me that all my knowledge about the Inquisition was nothing more than a hodgepodge of myths and rumors. In reality, the Inquisitors didn't burn everyone someone reported. No, each case was examined individually and thoroughly, with the evidence for each case being sent directly to the bishop responsible for the territory or even to the Vatican. Of course, there were excesses - how could there not be - because the Inquisitors were also humans with their own weaknesses and shortcomings? But at its core, there was no such overreach. As for my statement that the lack of beautiful women in Europe is precisely due to the atrocities of the Inquisition, Morpheus just laughed and shattered it with a single argument. He asked me, "In which countries of Europe is the Catholic Church strongest?" To which I replied, "Italy and Spain, of course." "Have you been to these countries?" Morpheus asked a new question. "Yes," I didn't deny it. "So, are there few beautiful women in Spain and Italy?" "There are many," I honestly replied. "Exactly. And where there are few beautiful women, supposedly because all the beautiful ones were burned at the stake centuries ago as witches and heretics, this is in Germany, Denmark, Holland. But notice: all these countries are Protestant, not Catholic. And there, indeed, the fires were blazing. But these fires had nothing to do with the Inquisition. This is all on the conscience of Protestant priests or local communities who dragged to the stake anyone who stood out from the crowd. And they did this out of simple envy or revenge, accusing more beautiful and successful people of dealing with the devil." However, as far as I remember, Morpheus himself was Italian, so maybe he exaggerated something. But nevertheless, his words seemed to me quite logical and historically justified; at least with my superficial knowledge of history, I did not find what to argue with him.
As for Ain, in terms of investigative measures, what the guards have done now is a normal usual process. In any city west of the Great Ridge, if the deceased were a stranger, at best, a sheriff would come out and shout something like: "Does anyone have any claims?" and if he didn't hear a reply of "Yes, we do," that would have been the end of the "incident." If someone did reply, the most I would be threatened with would be to go to a ting with the relatives of the deceased or pay a weregild if the deceased was a merchant or an arfist. If I had killed a citizen of Tries, it wouldn't, of course, have ended so quickly. But even here, the fact that the attack happened on private land and the body was found inside a house, not on the street, practically guaranteed my acquittal. Yes, I would probably be detained in the municipal jail for the evening and night, but by morning I would almost certainly be released. More so, since I am a participant in the tournament, which has made me a fairly well-known person in the city. Bets are being placed on me. Many could perceive my detention as the guard's management deciding to "play with the bets" and removing the new Bronze favorite from the "game." Considering that I am also Aun's guest, who is "on good terms" with Senator Varti, they probably wouldn't even hold me until morning.
In Ain, concepts such as investigation and systematic search for evidence are only beginning to emerge. As my "memory of the future" suggested, special investigation departments have only been formed by three organizations on the entire planet. The first one - at the analog of the Inquisition, "Paladins of Antares," and it's involved in the search for the remaining Altars of Darkness and those who worship these Altars. The second one is at the Alchemists' Guild; it was formed only a couple of years ago. And the third, the oldest one, existing for over three centuries, is at the Artifactors' Guild. However, that department at the Artifactors' Guild is engaged in something entirely different than investigating crimes. It was created to search for and systematize information on lost divine artifacts.
While digging through the "memory of the future," to avoid wasting time, I started cleaning up. After all, when someone loses their head, especially in such an "untidy" way, everything around becomes dirty. The floor, walls, and even somehow the high ceiling were stained with blood. Moreover, I didn't have any earthly cleaning supplies at my disposal, and all I could use were water and hay. And it's good that I had no shortage of either. Of course, I could have left everything as it was until Aun's arrival and then let the house's owner figure out how to clean the room. But I was a guest, and it was I who had been so untidy, so I thought it was wrong to shift this problem onto the boy. And after ten minutes of cleaning, I strongly regretted the decision I had made. Hay turned out to be a poor tool for cleaning the floor from blood. But I didn't have anything else at hand, and I continued to scrub the stains while swearing quietly through my teeth. I was caught in the act by an unexpected knock on the door.
"Come in!" I shouted, wiping my hands with a bunch of hay.
"Good evening," greeted me the man who, upon opening the door, had remained standing on the threshold.
"Master Ylipp," I nodded, recognizing the visitor. "Please come in."
He was a huge man, especially by local - eastern - standards. Almost half a head taller than me and twice as wide in the shoulders. He owned a bakery up the street. And he also happened to be the elder of the street where Aun's house was located. It was an elective and not quite an official position. Master Ylipp was famous for possessing a personal secret for baking bread. Baked according to his recipe, with the application of "secret alchemy," the bread retained its freshness and taste for almost three weeks without turning into a stale block. Because of this, almost all of his bakery's products were bought out by the fleet, and the remaining ones were snatched away by the caravaneers. On my first day in Tries, Aun introduced me to this man, but we had not exchanged even a couple of words during all this time. And now he was standing in the doorway. I wonder what he wants?
"Well, I, uh, I'll stand here..." The baker awkwardly stammered, clearly unaccustomed to speaking with strangers. "I, uh, came here to... Uh, well, I wanted to ask... Do you need any help?"
Regretfully, I looked at the last blood stain on the ceiling, all the rest having already been scrubbed clean by me, and sighed heavily. If only he had come with his offer sooner! Not when I'd nearly finished cleaning!
"Thanks for the offer, Master Ylipp," I shrugged, "but I'm almost done. Just need to haul out this dirty straw."
"Straw?" The baker initially misunderstood me, then peered into the dark room, noted the pile of dirty hay in the corner, and smiled openly. "We'll help! I'll send some servants."
"Thank you," I nodded and, climbing on top of the crates, began to clean further.
Despite my actions clearly suggesting the conversation was over, the guest didn't hurry to leave and kept standing in the doorway for almost a minute until I turned to him and asked:
"You wanted to ask something?" It was strange, but the large man blushed at my question and nodded shyly. Sighing deeply, I agreed: "Go ahead."
"Well... Uh... Is it true? The boys overheard... Those who attacked you, they... They were from Cisto?"
"The optio who inspected the bodies said so." I saw no reason to keep this fact a secret.
"Damn!!!" The giant turned as red as a lobster and slapped his thighs so hard that the door next to him trembled in protest. "Those filthy shellfish lovers! Those shell-wearing aliens!! What were they thinking?! Trying to kill a guest in my town, on my street!!!" The baker was bursting with righteous anger. "The nerve, sneaking into someone else's home and laying an ambush! Only these mussel-fuckers could think of such a thing! Is it because you skewered their champion like a butterfly??!" I hadn't had a chance to nod or deny it when he continued venting his emotions. "Shells down their throats! How dare they?!"
The baker's tirade continued non-stop for another five minutes. I didn't interrupt him. I was curious how long he would last. And since Master Ylipp, like Sheriff Ender, was a Steel with Bronze, he had plenty of breath.
"F-f-f-..." He finally ran out of steam, and his face returned to a normal color, not the unhealthy red with spots. "I'll round up the men; we'll set up a watch!" The street elder didn't even ask - he just informed me of his decision. "So, Master Raven, you sleep tight. No stranger will come close to young Master Aun's house."
"Young Master Aun, as you know, is following a Path of a merchant," I began diplomatically, "and, as you understand, strangers might frequently visit his house."
"I see..." Dropping his gaze, the big man clearly seemed confused, not knowing what to do. "I didn't think about that."
"Thank you for your concern. Let's do this: you stand guard tonight. I have to enter the Arena tomorrow, and getting a good night's sleep, rather than fretfully expecting another attack, won't hurt."
As I spoke, a smile began to form on the baker's large face, at first barely noticeable, then broad.
"Oh... um!! With joy, we... Master Raven, you should know, the whole street... We're for you! We... It's... We're worried... You're our guest... You stopped on our street... And a part of the glow of your victories, by the grace of Dairin, reflects on us too... So... We are... We are doing what we can..."
As good as he was at baking bread, nature had definitely deprived him of eloquence. The only thing that came to him without stumbling was the standard part of the prayer to the Day Sister, learned in his childhood. Everything else he spoke disjointedly, constantly swallowing words.
I could have just waved it off, but, showing respect, I descended from the crates, walked over to the door, and thanked the baker with a short bow. It cost me almost nothing, but the man appreciated the gesture and swelled with pride even more. Many earthlings neglected the locals, their feelings and reactions, and in my opinion, they were greatly mistaken, looking down on the inhabitants of Ain. They are the same people as us. Yes, born in another world, but the same. And on Earth, I did not consider it shameful to greet the same janitors or cashiers in the stores I frequented. Such little things really cost you almost nothing: neither time nor effort – but noticeably improve the mood of those around you, and that alone can affect your life. For example, there was never any trash at the entrance of my building, and when I bought groceries, I was always greeted by the friendly smiles of the sellers. The same here: nobody forced Master Ylipp to do anything for me. The fact that he came and suggested the idea of a watch was his personal initiative, and just to come and thank him for that – I won't break from such a trifle.
We parted with the baker almost as friends, and I returned to cleaning. Not ten minutes after the elder had left, there was a knock on the door again. These turned out to be the servants promised by Ylipp, three boys of about eleven or twelve. They quickly gathered the dirty straw, loaded it into a wheelbarrow, and took it somewhere. And that was good because I didn't quite understand where to put the pile of bloodied straw that had accumulated in the corner as a result of my cleaning. After the boys left, I doused the floor with water and went over it with straw once more. By the time I finished cleaning, the bottom floor of the house was twice as clean as it was before today's incident.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Having washed my face in the atrium fountain, I went up to the second floor and looked out the window. Master Ylipp wasted no time, and the first thing I saw was him instructing six neighbors, four men, and two women. Each of these six was nearly a Bronze rank. Then the baker split them into three pairs and, giving them each a rolling pin, sent them on "patrol." This "patrol" involved simply walking up and down the street. But considering that people of Bronze rank were involved, who also maintained the Aura of Perception, despite all the showiness, it was quite effective measure. Yes, this "patrol" would not stop an attack by Steel or Wootz fighters, but they would be able to raise the alarm in time. Ylipp himself, having finished his instructions, sat on portable stools with another resident of our street, a Steel rank shopkeeper, just ten meters from the entrance door of our house. These two pretended to be playing dice. Of course, all these measures would not stop real professionals. But, as practice showed, those who hunt Aun are the ones who would not even pass the entrance exams to the Assassins' Guild in any of the cities of Pentapolis. So, such help from the street elder will allow me to get a good night's sleep today.
Going back downstairs, I lit the hearth and started preparing dinner from the products that managed to survive the fight. The squid, of course, was completely ruined, but many vegetables turned out to be fine. Therefore, my evening meal was quite simple: vegetables fried over an open fire and hard cheese with bread - all washed down with a light but, in my opinion, overly sour wine.
While I was cooking and leisurely eating, I was busy thinking about what happened today. And although I understood with my mind that the analysis of the day should start from the very morning, time and again, thoughts returned directly to the attack. First, I evaluated the version proposed by the guard that this attack was a kind of revenge for the loss of the champion of Cisto in the very first round of the tournament. But no matter how I twisted this thought, I could not agree with it. More so, since I was confident that the outlaw I had beheaded, I had seen running across the rooftops not too long ago. Moreover, killing over such a reason can be imagined if it was a spontaneous decision made somewhere in a tavern under the influence of alcohol. But to sneak into someone else's house and set up an ambush? As Stanislavsky said, "I do not believe."[1]
With this thought, I finished dinner and washed the dishes. Then I sat down in an old, barely supporting my weight wicker chair and pondered on the topic, "Could Ye Lan have been involved in the attack?" She appeared, and on the same day, such a bold ambush happened, even by the standards of the Assassins' Guild. Was this just a coincidence? Yes, the girl helped me in the fight, but wasn't this a cunning plan?
To sort out this issue, I had to focus and recall, practically second by second, what had transpired. Was Ye Lan's interference in the fight a clever scheme? Before entering the house, I had gestured for her to stay put and not follow me inside. Nonetheless, she intervened. I can't blame her for that. I didn't fully close the gate when I went inside, so she might have heard some noise and then peeked in to see what was happening. Moreover, unlike me, she couldn't see other people's ranks and didn't know that the second opponent was on Steel. I find it hard to blame Ye Lan for intervening despite my request to stay put. It's hard because, in her place, I would likely have jumped into the fight just to help my new acquaintance, who is also an earthling. But was this attack and Ye Lan's help a much more intricate game than it first appeared? After mulling this thought over in my head a few times, I finally dismissed it. To pull off such a combination, two things are needed. First, a powerful organization capable of arranging all of this in a short time. And secondly, motivation. And while the Alchemists' Guild could potentially fit the first requirement, motivation was utterly lacking. I'm not interesting enough to anyone to warrant such elaborate games. If someone on Ain had genuinely learned about my "memory of the future," then yes! In such a case, there could be far more sophisticated traps and recruitment attempts. But the only ones privy to this knowledge are the questers and me. And I am absolutely sure: neither they nor I will share this information. Especially since the questers themselves told me to keep mum about this. And I don't believe that even such a powerful organization as the Alchemists' Guild could pull something like this off at this stage. Maybe in half a year, when earthlings join their ranks, but not now...
There's also the possibility related to the mysterious "Righteous Elevation" sect, whose interest I somehow piqued, if one to draw conclusions from Kiadi of Mundi's behavior. But this sect is unlikely to be a serious player. Because there wasn't a hint of such a sect in my future memories. And if that's the case, then this organization didn't make itself known during the Invasion, and it doesn't make sense to consider it a significant force. Besides, all my theories crumbled against the fact that the man I killed was definitely familiar to me. Those movements, those lunges, that flexibility – I had seen it all before. And the chance of meeting two such similar people, who want to kill me for entirely different reasons, is beyond coincidence. But if this pair came not for me but for Aun, then their behavior doesn't make sense. Because if they were after the boy, they would certainly know that he wasn't home today. So why would they...
Wait!
Everything fits. On the contrary, everything is very logical and consistent.
The assassins knew that Aun wouldn't be home until the morning of the next day. So the ambush at his house, when he would arrive tired and drained after the feast, as usually happens after long bouts of drinking, would be very unexpected and would most likely end with absolute success. If the assassins managed to take me out quietly and hide until morning, then Aun would undoubtedly be doomed. He would enter the house unsuspecting, confident that he was safe inside because I was there… And then he would be struck by a knife in the neck from behind or something similar. Was there the slightest chance for the boy to survive in such a situation? No, and no blessing for luck would save him.
For the success of this plan, the assassins only needed to do one thing. Eliminate me first. And I'll be honest with myself, if not for my paranoia and the marks left around the house, they probably would have succeeded. Both attackers were adepts of the Shadow and were very good at hiding in ambush. So, if I had entered the house suspecting nothing, not listening to my inner Shadow, the first strike from ambush would most likely have been fatal to me.
And the assassins were no fools. They had a backup plan. And there were two of them in the attack. Moreover, one of them was Steel. And given that the attackers knew my rank for sure, as I had participated in the Bronze branch of the tournament, they were confident that they could definitely handle me together, no matter how good a fighter I was. And considering that the assassin has escaped, he was pretty decent! I would even say very good by local standards. Experienced, strong, and has clearly honed his skills for many years. Steel at the limit of his rank's capabilities, most likely. The attackers couldn't even imagine how much of an abnormal Bronze I was. Ain is not yet accustomed to earthlings, and that's where they miscalculated. Moreover, the assassins did not take into account the Ye Lan factor. And they could not have accounted for it because they most likely broke into the house as soon as I left it. And they knew nothing about my new acquaintance. However, I would have dealt with this pair even without Ye Lan's help.
Wait. Is that so? The first attack of the steel fighter, his first lunge from ambush, surfaced in my memory. A very skillful, calculating, treacherous blow that was supposed to cut the tendons on my left leg. If that lunge had hit its target, my victory would not have been so certain. That blow was deflected by a dart thrown by Ye Lan.
Getting up, I took the same stance as at the moment of the attack and quickly realized that I couldn't have avoided that slashing lunge. I couldn't avoid it in any way. The Steel fighter had calculated everything almost perfectly and caught me off guard. That's true. But to turn my leg and expose my shin, not the tendons, to the blow, I definitely had time for that. Yes, it would have been a painful wound, but with the "Mithril Body," I wouldn't have lost my combat capability. I would have reached my spear and killed both attackers. The only question is whether I would have thought at that moment, on instinct, not to try to pull my leg out from under the blow, which I definitely didn't have time for, but just to turn it, exposing a different part of it to the sword. Now it seems obvious to me, but in the heat of battle, I'm not sure I would have made this only correct decision.
So... If fate crosses my path with Ye Lan once more, I should say "thank you" to the girl.
Speaking of Ye Lan. The more I think about this earthling, the more I like her. No, not as a person - she tends to alarm me in that regard... But rather as an ally. She is calculating. She knows her worth. She is a crafty and shameless manipulator. All true. But it's precisely these qualities that make her an almost ideal ally in my eyes. These are precisely the type of people I need in the early stages. They understand the value of knowledge and can effectively convey it to others. Yes, they will likely do so for their own benefit, but even that is better! Because the knowledge and information obtained by other earthlings through them, which wasn't free, will hold much more value for those earthlings. That's human psychology.
Furthermore, when things on Ain go terribly wrong, much will depend on such smart egoists who know their worth. Unlike altruists, they won't stay to defend a doomed village from demons and won't die in vain. They won't engage in hopeless sorties and won't ruin both themselves and the locals who trusted them. Oh no, they will survive and eventually realize that you can't run from demons forever. And then, they will fight for their life with such fury and calculation that it will be a very unpleasant "surprise" for the invaders.
While analyzing my conversation with Ye Lan, I didn't waste any time and started practicing katas with my dagger, moving around the atrium and trying not to bump into anything in this not-so-large inner courtyard. Training is rarely superfluous, and going in my memory through everything my new acquaintance had said, I performed the exercises at a steady and precise pace.
After an hour, when I had completed all the katas perfectly, Ye Lan no longer seemed to me such a calculating shrew as she had at first. Analyzing her stories, words, poses, intonations, I increasingly came to the conclusion that all this shrewdness of the girl was nothing more than a "defensive shell." Yes, this "shell" that had grown in deeply, but nonetheless, I had a strange feeling that deep down, she was much more vulnerable than she wanted to appear. But these were only feelings, guesses, so I wouldn't base my relationship with the earthling on them. However, the more I think about Ye Lan, the more I want to get her on my side. I even started seriously considering the idea of not leaving Tries immediately after the Tournament but first visiting the Border Ridge and finding earthlings there. Yes, on the one hand, it would be a loss of a few days, possibly even a week, if I can't find my fellow earthlings right away. But it might be worth it. After all, the more people I share my knowledge with, the more earthlings will survive until the Invasion. This option definitely deserved some thought.
With that thought in mind, I switched the dagger for a spear and started practicing the katas again. And... It was so much easier!
You might think it doesn't matter what you're wielding for your exercise: a dagger, sword, stick, or spear. But no, the difference was there, and it was immense. With the dagger, I had to control every move, even the smallest ones, monitor my breathing, the rotation of my wrist or feet. To ensure everything was performed flawlessly.
But now, with the spear clutched in my hands, all that control became unnecessary. As did the precision and rehearsed canonicity of the training katas; they, too, weren't that important. With the spear, I wasn't just repeating learned katas; no, I was dancing. Improvising. Yes, the foundation of this dance was still the rehearsed exercises, but they were just a base, a foundation, not the entirety of the movement. My spear training was as different from a dagger session as jazz is from music played strictly by notes.
Here, traditionally, you need to position your foot at a certain angle, but I place it straight, even pointing my toes. I feel that precisely this foot placement is correct for the moment. And the way the subsequent lunge is executed clearly shows that my improvisation suits better than the rehearsed movements.
A new torso turn, and the spear is flying in a non-canonical position, but I don't care anymore. I'm following my inspiration. My movements are an elemental frenzy embodied in a jagged, abrupt, but I am certain, beautiful dance. Styles? Schools? All that is mere tinsel. Just templates. Training templates. Frames of application. Necessary crutches for most people. I understand this now like never before. Into my movements, unnoticeably, as if on their own, elements of gymnastic exercises long thought forgotten are intertwined. Half-splits, turns, rolls, somersaults in different directions and from different positions - all harmoniously woven into my unrestrained dance.
If Ronin were watching me now, he'd say that a new style, a new Spear school was born before his eyes. And he'd probably be technically right, but that wasn't important to me now. Because I now know that styles and schools are just crutches. And like a bird doesn't need to think about how to fly, I don't need to think about how to turn my hand or how to perform a lunge.
I feel it; I understand it.
With all my being.
And it's incredible.
It's such a freedom of combat that even the "past me" with all "his" incredible, for the current me, experience could not dream of.
I stopped only when I was completely out of breath, not noticing that more than three hours had passed since the beginning of the training. Struggling to get up, I collapsed onto the bed without any energy left. No, I knew before that the difference between three Talent Stars and four was huge. But only now did I realize that the gap between the fifth Star and the fourth is even greater than the entire range between the first and the fourth.
Sleep came quickly, almost instantly. And even in that sleep, I was dancing with the Spear. Flying among the clouds, striking down misty dragons, battling Evelan and Jegur. And, of course, I was winning - it was my dream after all!
The creaking of the entrance door, which pulled me out of my dreams, was like the thunder of an alarm clock at the most inopportune moment. Still in a semi-sleep state, not having opened my eyes yet, I grabbed the spear that stood at the head and rolled off the bed.
No one knocked on the door, but someone just walked in. And I really didn't like that. Because I clearly remember that I bolted that door. I slid onto the stairs, ready for any turn of events. And I barely stopped in time not to knock down Aun, who was frozen in surprise and fear.
"How did you open the bolt?" I blurted out in irritation instead of a greeting.
"Huh?" The boy's eyes are like saucers; he can't take his gaze off the tip of the spear, which is swaying rhythmically in front of his nose. "Well, um... I learned how to lift that bolt from the outside with a twig when I was a boy, so my father wouldn't hear what time I came home."
I was satisfied with this explanation and had already realized that this was not a fake hidden by the magic of Illusion but the real Aun, and I lowered the spear.
"Did you get a good rest?" I ask with a slight smirk, noticing that the boy is a bit jumpy. "What happened? Tell me, I can see."
His pupils are significantly dilated. Lips are pressed into a thin line. Fingers are slightly trembling. At the same time, his movements are jerky and contradictory. At first, I thought he was under some alchemy, but my activated Aura of Perception didn't detect any characteristic scent.
"Nothing!" The boy sharply retorted and walked ahead, and he did it in such a way that he bumped me with his shoulder and didn't even apologize! "Nothing happened!!!" People don't yell like that if it's true.
Following the boy, I went out into the atrium. Aun sat down by the hearth and, blowing on the coals, tossing a couple of dry twigs, watched as the fire flared up. This was not at all like his usual behavior. Absolutely not. Without making any abrupt movements, I sat down opposite the boy and, catching his gaze darting around, quietly asked:
"Tell me."
"Maybe later?" He jerked his shoulder. "Can I do it later?"
"Did you find out who's behind the attempts?" Not wanting to be led by him, I asked the main question.
"Huh?" The boy even twitched, his eyes widened even more, and I understood his answer even before he said: "Attempts? No, I didn't find out anything. And it doesn't matter..."
"Stop, boy!" The young man clearly lost his bearings and needs to be brought back to earth. "Someone wants to kill you, and everything else doesn't matter! Haven't you slept for two nights? Clear your mind!"
Usually, such a response from me works on Aun like a good slap in the face, but now the boy didn't even bat an eyelid. He heard my words, that's for sure, but he behaved completely differently than before. He pulled a small leather bag out of his waist pouch and stared at it as if it were the most poisonous snake in his hand. But at the same time, as if only in the bite of this snake lay his salvation. Fear and hope were equally present in the boy's gaze. And these two feelings were so all-encompassing that the boy simply didn't have enough for everything else: for analyzing the environment, for my words.
"Master," Aun said quietly but sharply and insistently, stretching out his open palm.
Taking his hand in mine, I said:
"I'm here."
Without a word, the boy undid the knot on the leather pouch with his teeth. A familiar smell hit my nostrils. And before I could stop the boy, he poured a handful of powder that smelled of wormwood and chamomile into his mouth.
"You promised, Master." Having swallowed the dry composition of the "Light Step" with difficulty, Aun gripped my hand tightly.
"Alright." I can't abandon him now; that would be worse than betrayal. "I'll be your Anchor."
"Thank you, Master."
Having said this, Aun closes his eyes, and his body begins to fall limply to the side.
I don't know what occurred at Senator Varti's feast. But apparently, something so extraordinary happened that the boy, who had a genuine phobia of Elevation, suddenly decided on a Core Reconstruction. Moreover, suddenly, clearly on emotions, catching a moment when some feeling overwhelmed him so much that even the primitive horror of this ritual paled for him. But I will have time to think about it later. Something else is important now.
Not letting the boy's body fall, I supported him with my knee and focused on the youth's palm that still lay in my hand. The first thing to do is to match our pulse. Synchronize our heartbeat so that our pulse with him is in the antiphase.
This relatively simple action is that Anchor, which allows the mind, floating in the Void, to remember the existence of physical reality. Judging by what Aun told me about his first Elevation, we will have to sit in this not-very-comfortable position for several hours. But I'm sure the guy will handle it. Moreover, I'm helping him. This means he will definitely manage. It will take two or three hours, but he will go through the Elevation.
Without releasing his palm, I moved and tried to sit more comfortably. Having settled down, I reached out to Aun to tilt his head. And when my fingers touched his cheek... The boy opened his eyes.
At first, I thought that the ritual had failed and something had gone wrong. That for some reason, the youth woke up ahead of time, did not die, did not lose his mind, but woke up exactly. But my question froze on my lips because I clearly saw the Iron Sign floating in front of the boy's face, visible only to me.
But how? He Elevated in just two minutes?!! Such a thing doesn't happen even to earthlings! It could not happen, yet there it is: I see the updated Sign.
"Was I gone for long?" Aun swallowed and asked.
"What do you think?" I asked in a dry, parched voice.
"It seemed like a month passed." The guy jerked his shoulder as if driving away unpleasant memories.
"And that's normal, normal..." Patting him on the shoulder, I couldn't decide whether to tell him about the two minutes that had passed in reality or not.
"So, I am Iron?!" Aun asked out loud, not believing himself.
"You should see it better." I snorted.
The young man froze for a moment and then said:
"Show the Core Sign!"
Immediately between our faces appeared the Core Image of Full Iron.
"So, I really am Iron..." Aun said somewhat unbelievingly and nervously laughed.
[1] TLN: the developer of the famous acting system.