"Are you sure you won't stay even for lunch?" Felicia asked me with mild surprise, offering a basket of food prepared for the journey.

"I'd love to, but I'm in a hurry," I said, spreading my hands. "Promises won't fulfill themselves on their own."

In truth, I would have gladly stayed at the estate not only for lunch but also for a couple of days. I would have talked to the earthlings, observed the changes in the Ainuminati, and possibly learned some more useful skills, spells, and abilities. However, after I reproduced "Mitrailleuse" shot twice in a row, Arien quickly ended our lesson and unequivocally stated that it was my turn to fulfill my promise. That meant setting off to find the grey nend fur. Moreover, the future goddess made sure to pack me a basket of food for the journey. Thus, she "subtly" hinted that staying even for lunch was not an option. I could have pretended not to understand such blatant hints, but my relationship with Arien was already quite fragile, and I didn't want to risk damaging it further.

Our agreement was simple. As soon as Arien reached Opal or got her hands on the grey nend fur, she would summon me immediately. If I managed to obtain the unique ingredient first, I would break my part of the linking artifact, sending a signal for Arien to stop her search. Of course, I had no intention of breaking the magical orb first. I planned to wait for Arien's summons and then say something like, "Right after your signal, I managed to get the fur, what an amazing coincidence!" I understood this wasn't entirely honest. But first, I had already voiced the lie about not having the fur. And second, I was still not sure that Arien, if she obtained the last ingredient before reaching Opal, wouldn't start the Ritual immediately, leaving me out of it. Yes, such a breach of promise wasn't her style, but knowing how capricious her mood could be, I couldn't guarantee it wouldn't happen.

After saying goodbye to Felicia and taking the basket of food, I headed at a leisurely pace in the direction opposite to Katiyer, that is, to the north. There was no point in retracing my previous path, so I decided to visit a place I had heard about but hadn't visited in the Last Cycle. To get there, I needed to walk along the shore of Ilomen Lake and then turn west. In the end, this path would still lead to the Rur area, just with a small detour of three or four days. But since I was in no hurry, this decision seemed more promising at the moment.

I really had no reason to rush anywhere now. Judging by the filling of my Core, participating in the Ritual of Halves would provide enough energy to advance to Opal. It even felt somewhat unusual. For the first time since arriving in Ain, I didn't need to chase Achievements and strain myself to quickly raise my Rank.

The risk that twelve earthlings would manage to ascend to the Precious Coil before me and that I would be Erased for not meeting the questers' conditions I had considered insignificant. Moreover, I had two "indicators" by which I could judge the progress of the "best" earthlings. These "indicators" were Katashi and Arien. In the Last Cycle, they were definitely among the first to ascend to the Stone Coil, and I didn't think their progress was slower this time. On the contrary, thanks to my modest interference, both of them were likely moving along this Road a bit faster. This meant that as long as they hadn't reached Opal, I had nothing to worry about. Yes, according to the conditions I accepted, I would let Arien overtake me, that's true. But Katashi definitely wouldn't reach Opal before finishing the set of armor I commissioned. And by the time this work was completed, I planned to be near the future god of Labor and would be able to track that moment.

Of course, things could always go wrong, and the risk of Erasure with such a choice was definitely there. And the fact that I would have to pause my growth was also not very good. But if I had to choose between slowing down my ascent up the Great Spiral and redistributing the Stars of Magical Talents, the latter was much more important. Because I could always raise my Rank, but I would never get another opportunity to alter the Talent Stars. Moreover, there was an undeniable advantage in such a slowdown. I unexpectedly had about two calm weeks that I could spend improving my skills instead of rushing forward recklessly. And it would be good to use this time wisely. Which meant dedicating it to training and a leisurely journey, visiting a couple of interesting places.

And those were the places I initially didn't plan to turn to, as it seemed unlikely I could gain useful Achievements there. But now, with the race for Achievements temporarily losing its relevance for me, I had the opportunity to visit them. Especially since both places were close to the northern road from Katiyer to Rur, which meant they were practically on my way.

At first, I wanted to find Sundbad's Crossroads. The locals considered it a fairy tale, but in the Last Cycle, one of the groups of earthlings found this place. Local myths told that this crossroads was part of the first road that humans paved in Ain. The road itself had long disappeared, but its first crossroads still existed. According to legends, finding it could grant the Blessing of the Right Turn, meaning one could ask Sundbad for help in choosing a Path. Unfortunately, I only had a rough idea of where to look for this crossroads, and I could easily miss it. But why not try if, for once, I was not in a hurry?

The second point I wanted to visit on the detour to Rur was the Throne Peak. This solitary mountain stands about three days' journey northwest of Ilomen. Once, its depths housed the capital of the dwarven kingdom. But long before the Fall, the undermountain people were forced to abandon their subterranean city. The Cataclysm, which raised the Great Ridge from the earth, did not spare the dwarven capital, nearly completely destroying the lower tiers and flooding them with underground waters. Even the parts of the city closer to the surface did not escape the series of destructions caused by the strongest earthquake in Ain's known history. Over more than three thousand years, this place has been thoroughly looted by numerous marauders who took everything valuable. The dwarves themselves also sent many expeditions in search of their people's relics lost in the Cataclysm. In the Last Cycle, I had never been to the Throne Peak and only heard stories about it. Many earthlings descended into the depths of the mountain, hoping to find something valuable. Almost all of them wasted their time, finding neither treasures, nor gold, nor artifacts. The only valuable find I knew of was a mithril orb weighing almost a kilogram. However, it was too early for me to search for that treasure. It was found at such a depth that I would only dare to descend after stepping onto the Legendary Coil.

Among the locals, the Throne Peak was considered cursed. And I must say, this reputation was well-deserved. As the saying goes, "nature abhors a vacuum," and after the dwarves fled, the ruined streets of the underground city were flooded with various Creatures, Monsters, and Beasts. At my Wootz Rank, I shouldn't even think about descending below the fifth Tier. And places so close to the surface had been plundered so many times that finding anything valuable there was out of the question. Nevertheless, the place was undoubtedly interesting and definitely worth seeing. Besides, as far as I knew, dwarves, unlike humans, were very respectful of the Runes of Divine Speech, and maybe I would be able to find Living Signs on the walls of the ruined city. Of course, this was quite a faint hope. If I had to rush as before, I would never have wasted precious time visiting the Throne Peak at this stage. In my original plans, a visit to the ruined dwarf capital was not scheduled until I reached the Itildine Step of the Great Spiral. But now, nothing prevented me from taking a slight detour and checking out this legendary place. Perhaps, I would indeed find some Living Rune that I could Comprehend.

Returning to Katashi before he reached the final stage of creating the armor didn't make much sense, so this route seemed quite compelling to me. Moreover, except for the Throne Peak itself, my path was supposed to go through relatively safe places, which meant I could spend more time training. And that was exactly what I needed. Of course, in such a short time, even giving my all, I wouldn't be able to perfect Stoneskin and Mitrailleuse to full automatism, but one has to start somewhere. And training with the spear to fill my available Stars as quickly as possible shouldn't be overlooked either.

After moving a couple of kilometers away from Brunge's estate, I turned off the trade route and delved into the forest, which in these parts was light and almost devoid of underbrush. After all, training, even on the move, was better conducted away from prying eyes. I knew the general direction, and considering that I had to walk along the western shore of Ilomen for quite some time, I wasn't afraid of getting lost or going off course.

The first thing I focused on was training Stoneskin, as the impressions from Arien's potions were still fresh in my memory. I had to admit, the future goddess of Elemental Magic had hit the mark with learning through sensations; my hands still remembered the feeling of petrification that needed to be invoked. This helped me a lot in my first training of this spell without an instructor. The main thing to practice was the weaving of mana and prana, to memorize it so well that I could use the spell without my mind controlling all the energy flows. In words, it seemed simple, but in practice, it was a long and painstaking job, not much different from thousands of repetitions of a single strike to perform it automatically.

Of course, even though I was absorbed in my training, I didn't forget to maintain the Aura of Perception, because, despite these places being considered safe, with my "luck," you never know what fate might throw at you.

After two hours of leisurely walking through the forest, I realized I was "fed up." The endless repetition of the same weavings had become a routine, and I felt I was starting to get tired. Not physically, but mentally, as if my mind was sinking into a fog. When I understood that instead of improving, I was just repeating the same thing for the tenth time without any progress, I set aside the training of Stoneskin and took up my spear. A half-hour warm-up with the weapon, intensified by sharp dashes and jumps through the forest, worked, and the veil of fatigue and sluggishness lifted from my mind. Snacking on a few slices of hard cheese and a crust of fresh bread on the go, I washed down this simple meal with spring water and, continuing my movement, returned to magic. This time, I practiced the second spell of those that Arien had taught me.

If I had had time to linger in the territory of the Ainuminati, the right decision would have been to study all three spells of the Lightning school offered by the future goddess. To master at least the basics, and then gradually work both on what was necessary and also on what might be useful in the speculative perspective. For example, the Lightning striking from the sky, which Arien demonstrated during our contest, could also have turned out to be a very useful spell. Yes, this magic couldn't be used in dungeons, and hitting a moving target with it was quite problematic. But having a spell in the arsenal that could hit a target, albeit stationary, at a distance of two hundred steps was also, to put it mildly, intriguing. However, during my communication with Arien, I felt that she wanted to get me off the Ainuminati territory as quickly as possible for some reason, and I didn't dare to impose myself further. The fact that she herself undertook to teach me two spells was already more than good, considering what had been between us before. Therefore, I didn't tempt fate, content with what I had already received.

As for "Mitrailleuse," Arien's creation was quite a unique spell. The very principle of its formation was fundamentally different from the systems accepted on Ain. And what surprised me even more, I did not remember such a spell in the Last Cycle. This once again convinced me that the "memory of the future" could not be relied upon heavily.

As I began practicing this new magic, I couldn't help but notice how the weavings devised by Arien differed from the classical forms and flows. Unlike "Direct Lightning," which consumed nearly four times more mana than prana, "Mitrailleuse" used these two types of energy equally. And it was implemented quite cleverly. "Direct Lightning" was essentially a linear flow of energy through the body, culminating in the formation of the Element at the moment it was released from the caster's hand. This was how almost all magic in Ain worked. But Arien turned everything upside down. "Mitrailleuse" was actually two spells bound into a single construct. Its first part formed a Lightning charge, the "bullet," directly in the caster's energy system. The additional prana expenditures created a shell around this "bullet," protecting the user from the presence of Elemental Magic inside their body. Without this protection, the caster, having formed the "bullet," would immediately receive a weakened version of "Discharge" right inside their organism, which would be quite an unpleasant experience.

If we consider "Mitrailleuse" not as a spell but as a construct, it could be compared to a revolver. In the first stage, the user formed magical bullets, filling the available "cylinder" with charges. In the second, much simpler stage, they "pulled the trigger," releasing as many bullets in a salvo as their Stars of Talent in the Element of Lightning allowed. Structurally, "Mitrailleuse" was significantly more complex than "Direct Lightning." In terms of design, it was worthy of a mage of the Legendary Coil. Due to this complexity, the "rate of fire" of "Mitrailleuse" was significantly inferior to "Direct Lightning." But it also had its undeniable advantages.

First of all, it was possible to make a stock of "bullets" in advance, allowing you to release the first salvo without any preparation. Secondly, due to the Spirit shell, the ability to penetrate magical defenses with this spell was almost three times greater than that of "Direct Lightning." Thirdly, each of the bullets could potentially be launched on its own trajectory, significantly increasing the spell's application possibilities. And fourthly, due to the double structure, where the first part was a complex weaving of magical charges, and the second was a simple and straightforward activation, no more complicated than "Discharge," the Lightning Ring obtained from Larindel worked perfectly with "Mitrailleuse"! This allowed me to increase the "size" of the "salvo" by one more "bullet" beyond my Talent in this section of Magic. So even now, having only two and a half Stars, I could release three "bullets" in one go, making this magic in my hands as powerful in charge as "Direct Lightning."

The longer I studied the spell developed by Arien during training, the more convinced I became that I had made the right choice. Moreover, as far as I understood, this magic, like "Discharge," was a scalable spell, increasing in power with the rise in the caster's rank. This meant that with sufficient mastery, it would be useful to me both now and later, even at the Legendary Coil, which was certainly pleasing. When I realized all this, it was as if I had a second wind, and I took up training with renewed energy. And by sunset, I even managed to release all three "bullets" for the first time. Although they were quite weak due to my still poor mastery of this spell, all the charges hit the target accurately, tearing off large chunks of bark from an old pine tree that I encountered on my way.

I was so engrossed that, even after stopping for the night, I spent another three hours practicing the spell after a late dinner. Saying that I liked "Mitrailleuse" would be a gross understatement. It was simply an indescribable pleasure when you, like a child, form a pistol with your palm, quietly saying "Bang!", and magical charges fly out of the hand. It was like a distant childhood dream come true.

Another advantage of Arien's spell was that it didn't replace the already known "Discharge" in my tactics but complemented it. "Discharge" remained relevant as it consumed much less energy, was quicker to cast, and was still more suitable for close combat.

Yes, despite a couple of new spells, my variety of skills, abilities, and spells remained extremely limited for a warrior of Wootz Rank. But learning "Stoneskin" and "Mitrailleuse" addressed my two main weaknesses at the moment. The first provided at least some protection for my hands, and the second filled the gap in medium-range attacks. Of course, for effective use of this magic, I still had a lot of training ahead, but I really did feel a bit more at ease. After tearing up several trees near the campsite with magical "bullets," I finally had enough and went to sleep.

I was awakened not by the first rays of the sun but by a light, drizzling rain, which hadn't been hinted at during the night. Upon waking, I determined from Seguna's position that it was just under an hour before sunrise. After a brief meditation and assessing my strength, I decided I had rested enough and could continue my journey without using Restoration potions. After a leisurely snack, I stretched under the light rain and set off without bothering to conceal the campsite traces - it was pointless after practicing "Mitrailleuse" on the surrounding trees.

According to the description I "remembered" from the stories of those earthlings who found Sundbad's Crossroads in the Last Cycle, I had to travel about fifty kilometers straight north. After that, I should see a tall mound or hill, one side of which should be destroyed. In fact, nothing prevented me from speeding up and covering these fifty kilometers in a couple of hours, and the sparse forest wouldn't be an obstacle. But I simply didn't want to.

Waking up this morning to the weak rain, I probably felt so light for the first time since arriving in Ain. For once, I didn't have to rush anywhere, seek "adventures," or find other ways to elevate my Rank. Essentially, I had almost an entire week of free time! "Free time" – an unheard-of generosity of fate, especially considering my goals.

Of course, I didn't intend to waste this time on rest and entertainment. But just the fact that there was a break in the constant race affected me in a surprising way. It was as if the ruthless driver, who had been forcing me on with a whip, got distracted from his victim for a while. And this was such a pleasant, relaxing feeling that I wanted to prolong it as long as possible.

I even had to exert considerable mental effort to force myself to train "Stoneskin" again. It's not that this spell was particularly difficult for me; no, the issue was in something else. In the fact that practicing this magic was nothing more than an endless repetition of the same actions. One, two, ten, twenty, a hundred repetitions, and without stopping, continue further. It's tedious, boring, and quickly becomes tiresome. But the experience of being a high-level athlete, where I sometimes had to practice a specific element of a future program hundreds of times a day, helped me combat this reluctance to train this magic.

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To at least somehow diversify the training process, I began applying "Stoneskin" to various parts of my body, not just my arms and legs, but also my chest, abdomen, and back. These experiments gave me the understanding that while "Stoneskin" could still be useful as temporary back protection, covering my abdomen and chest with it wasn't the best idea. When applied to the chest, the hardened skin interfered with breathing. Strengthening the skin on the abdomen immediately resulted in a loss of flexibility in the lower back, which, given my somewhat acrobatic fighting style, was unacceptable since the drawbacks of such a solution far outweighed the benefits. However, applying "Stoneskin" to the forehead turned out to be quite intriguing. I liked the effect of this use of the spell. In theory, if I managed to apply this magic in time, I could deflect a glancing hit from a stray arrow with my forehead without even getting a scratch.

On the third hour of practicing Earth magic, I finally felt a small breakthrough. For the first time, I managed to intuitively twist the primary energy flows - those just leaving the Core - as needed, without constantly having to control them with my mind. I spent another hour solidifying the result and, satisfied, switched to other exercises with relief.

After practicing with the spear for a while on the go, I stopped for a short break. I made myself some tea and, after having some sandwiches with dried meat and cheese, I continued on my way.

Walking through the forest, I shot at trees with "Mitrailleuse," glad that this area north of Katier was sparsely populated. During the entire journey from Brunge's estate, I didn't encounter a single person. And how wonderful it was! Walking along the forest paths left by wild animals, enjoying the pristine nature that surrounded me. Not even the rapidly deteriorating weather could change my mood.

About an hour after lunch, the entire sky was covered with dark clouds, and a real thunderstorm began. Back at the Bronze Rank, I wouldn't have dared to continue moving through an unfamiliar forest in such weather, but now the thunder and distant lightning didn't scare me. On the contrary, practicing "Mitrailleuse" to the thunderous rumbles, I began to feel this magic in a particularly profound way. So much so that less than an hour after the storm began, I finally managed to create the right prana shell for the elemental bullets. The "right" in the sense that it wouldn't disintegrate a few seconds after creation. This breakthrough allowed me to keep a reserve of three "bullets" for half an hour after forming them. Considering Arien's words that she herself managed to keep the "cylinder" full for an hour, I deemed my result excellent.

Inspired by my progress, I continued practicing "Mitrailleuse," even though the lightning strikes were getting closer and closer. Yes, there was a certain risk, but I felt that training Lightning Magic was most effective in such weather. Only when the next bolt struck the ground just a hundred meters away, splitting a giant pine tree, did I consider it prudent to stop. Trying to move through the lowlands and avoid the tallest trees, I decided to train Shadow Magic instead of provoking nature. I kept at it for almost an hour until the storm subsided, and the powerful gusts of wind dispersed the low, dark clouds, clearing the sky.

Once the weather improved and the rain stopped, I climbed the tallest tree and looked around. I spotted the mound I was searching for almost immediately. It towered above the forest by a good hundred meters, making it easy to find. Jumping down from the tree, I gripped my spear with both hands and, practicing sharp lunges and forward leaps with subsequent combinations of strikes, continued on my way.

The stories told by earthlings, which I had heard in the Last Cycle, turned out to be surprisingly accurate. Apparently, as a result of an ancient earthquake, one side of the mound had collapsed, forming a depression shaped like a horseshoe facing west. Reaching the top of the hill, I drew a mental line through the center of the collapse and found the next landmark in the form of a tall, naturally-formed stone pillar far to the west. Somewhere along the direct line between this pillar and the mound where I was currently standing was supposed to be Sundbad's Crossroads.

Despite the fairly accurate landmarks, I wasn't sure I would find what I was looking for, as local legends said that only those guided by the God of Paths could locate this Crossroads. Nevertheless, it was definitely worth trying to find this legendary place, which even the priests of Aerad deemed a lost myth. So, adjusting the straps of my backpack and offering a prayer to the deity of Roads, I set out in search.

To my deep disappointment, upon reaching an unnamed stone pillar by evening, I failed to find the Crossroads. I tried to move straight from the mound without deviating, but still noticed nothing unusual - not even human-trodden paths, let alone the divine Crossroads.

With about two hours until sunset, I decided, after some thought, to turn back, this time not moving straight but meandering a bit. However, this also yielded no results. As the lower edge of the sun touched the horizon, I concluded that Sundbad's Echo had no interest in me, making further search for the mythical place pointless. I stopped, roughly mapped out the surrounding area in my mind, and, choosing a direction towards the Throne Peak, turned west again.

Sometimes wisdom lies in knowing when to give up an unattainable goal and stop wasting time and energy on what is beyond your control. The earthlings' stories from the Last Cycle were very precise, and since I still didn't find the Crossroads following them, the legends were probably right: without Sundbad's favor, this place was impossible to locate. When setting out, I hoped that the myths about this place were just children's tales, but apparently, they were true. Perhaps later, after doing something useful for the priests of the god of Roads, I would return to these places and finally find the Crossroads. I really wanted to receive the Blessing of the Right Path.

Yes, it was frustrating that I didn't find what I was looking for. Very much so. Besides, I was sure I would have encountered the missing Rune to complete the questers' task there. That would have spared me the negotiations with Sundbad's priests, but apparently, it wasn't meant to be.

Sighing heavily, I wandered thoughtfully towards the sunset, deciding not to stop for the rest and to keep moving through the night to make up for the time wasted on the unsuccessful search for the Crossroads. After taking a few hundred steps, I shook myself, driving away gloomy thoughts, and quietly whispered:

"It's okay to have failures, but I need to pull myself together and keep moving towards my goal."

As soon as I said this, the world around me changed. The forest, while remaining the same, suddenly "distanced" itself. The trees seemed to be in the same place, yet they also shifted. A strange sensation of some sort of wrongness pierced me from head to toe like a lightning bolt. Looking down, I saw that I was not standing on the forest path but on a walkway made of old, yellowed sandstone. A powerful wave of dizziness hit me, almost knocking me off my feet, and I had to lower myself to one knee to avoid falling. For a moment, an impenetrable veil of some lines and lace appeared before my eyes, completely obscuring my vision. And when this veil lifted, I realized I had found what I was looking for.

I stood at Sundbad's Crossroads, for it could be nothing else. A distinct Will could be sensed here, and everything in this place was subject to it and only it. But before I could feel the joy of the discovery, I noticed that I was not alone. Right in the center of the strange sign, formed by a multitude of intertwined stone paths, a man was sitting on the ground, using a rolled-up cloak for comfort.

A warrior. Wootz. His body was covered in magnificent armor. Chainmail with avalonium plates, shoulder pads made of the same metal. A wide belt – a copy of the one I wore. Next to the man sitting on the ground lay a scabbard with a straight long sword. The hilt of this sword was wrapped in Sea Serpent leather. The warrior held a piece of old parchment in his hands and seemed completely absorbed in its contemplation. The moment I took a silent step, the seated man raised his head. And I recognized him. More precisely, I "remembered" him.

Ridan the Honest Sword from the Pathbreaker's clan. Six-time champion of Deytran's Metal Arena. Or rather, at the moment, five-time champion, as he was to earn his sixth title in half a year. I had watched that previous tournament from the stands. The best warrior in Ain on the Metal Coil. Undefeated for a decade and a half. My mind slid through the depths of memories, capturing any mention of this man. And it turned out that I knew a lot about him. Five FULL Stars in swordsmanship and four in Earth magic, as well as numerous three-star Talents. In terms of total Stars, he surpasses even me.

This warrior had been stuck at the Wootz Rank for many years, not by his own choice. His clan was cursed, and he would never overcome the First Wall. Such was the will of the Echo of Sundbad. One who many believed could have become one of the greatest warriors in the history of Ain would never even ascend to the Precious Coil. Moreover, this curse did not lie on him personally but on his entire family.

According to the minstrels' songs, many centuries ago, in a kingdom that had already faded into oblivion, a civil war broke out. When the rebels captured the capital, to prevent reinforcements from reaching their enemies, they destroyed the city Gates of Sundbad. The leader of those who dared to harm the Divine Portal was a distant ancestor of Ridan. For this deed, the Echo of Sundbad cursed not only that man but all his descendants, forever closing the Road beyond the First Wall to his entire lineage.

But what was one cursed by the God of Paths doing at this Crossroads created by the same deity? This fact contradicted everything I knew about how divine curses worked. And this wrongness greatly amplified the sense of danger I felt the moment I saw the yellow stone underfoot. Our eyes met, and I "remembered" how this warrior "perished" in the Last Cycle.

Heavy clouds hung over the Arena of Deytran. Two fighters faced off under the Seal of the Great Tree to determine who was the better. One was forever trapped at Wootz, while the other had already ascended to the Avalonium Step. But this difference of more than one and a half Coils didn't matter due to the effect of the Seal. Neither could use magic or abilities. Only their skill with weapons would settle their dispute, with their lives as the price. The fight was beautiful but short. Not even a minute passed before the body of the six-time champion of Deytran's Metal Arena fell to the sand, pierced through the heart by his opponent's blade. The one who delivered the fatal blow did not rejoice in his victory. Amid the deafening roar of the crowd in ecstasy, Nate raised his sword in a farewell salute, expressing respect to his now-dead opponent, and without a word, left the Arena...

My memories were interrupted by a quiet voice, full of some disappointment I couldn't understand:

"Five days... Five cycles of Dairin... Only five... And four and a half have already passed... Only half a day left... Only half... Naive... I knew from the beginning it wouldn't be that easy..."

Placing his hand on the sword hilt, the warrior stood up, not taking his eyes off me.

"I am Ridan the Honest Sword... Although... How can I still be honest if I've gone against my principles..." Shaking his head as if to dispel heavy thoughts, he addressed me. "Introduce yourself, traveler brought here by the will of Sundbad."

"Raven from Seattle, sheriff of the Tunnellers' Guild."

Ridan's focus slid across my chest and stopped at the Guild Sign. His gaze darkened even more, and suddenly, without transition, he threw his head back and began to laugh. In that laughter, I distinctly heard the onset of madness.

"From one curse to another?! Heavens!!! What have I done to you?! Not my distant ancestor, but I!!! I was honest my whole life. I never broke my word. I devoutly honored the gods. And this is my reward? This?!! To lift Sundbad's curse only to immediately fall under Ishid's wrath?!... Sheriff of the Book... Sheriff of the Book… There hasn't been one for Da'Nnan knows how many years... And here he stands… Oh, Geruda, how have I angered you?!... How..."

Geruda was the deity of Changeable Fate and wife of Sundbad, my consciousness automatically noted.

The warrior's confused speech stopped as abruptly as it had begun. He studied me for a few seconds.

"Raven... Raven... That sounds familiar... Where... Where have I heard that name? Raven from Seattle." Suddenly, his gaze brightened, and a smile appeared on his face. "You're the one who won the big Alchemists' tournament in Tries a month and a half ago?"

"Yes." My answer was brief.

"Well, at least something is lucky." Was he really happy? "Thank you for this, oh Geruda! I will not become the executioner who kills the defenseless."

"Stop!" This was where I lost my patience. "What do you mean by 'kills'?! And what do I have to do with this?!"

"Sorry..." Genuine sadness was heard in Ridan's voice. "There is a price in this world that even I couldn't resist."

"I don't like riddles." The habitual motion of my hands, and my backpack fell to the ground, freeing my shoulders. "Speak plainly."

"Last will..." Mumbled the five-time Arena champion. "Fair enough... I will tell you..." Clearing his throat, he began speaking again. "I am cursed. My family is cursed. The will of Sundbad..."

"I know the history of your family." I interrupted him.

"All the better." Ridan smiled, not at all embarrassed. "Then you must understand. When I had the chance to rid myself and my children of the curse, I... I... I couldn't resist. All I had to do was spend five full cycles of Dairin in this place and kill anyone who appeared at the Crossroads during that time... Four and a half days have already passed, no one has come, and I had hoped... But in the affairs of gods, it can't be that simple, can it?!"

He was waiting for my response, but I had nothing to say; his words seemed like the ravings of a madman. Yet, I "remembered" that in the Last Cycle, he was not insane, and the curse was still with him at the time of his death from Nate's blade. So what had changed? Perhaps no one had come to this Crossroads then, and he hadn't gone mad, going against his principles? No, that didn't add up; he would have immediately crossed the First Wall and, within half a year, would have been at least on Opal, not still on Wootz. After all, his task of staying five days at the Crossroads would have been fulfilled anyway. But... in that case, I didn't understand anything at all.

This unexpected encounter reminded me so much of that girl who approached my campfire in the Wicked Woods that a cold shiver ran down my spine.

Why was I so unlucky?!!

Everything had just started to settle, and here we go again!

The only fighter in all of Ain at Wootz level, except, of course, Nate and the drunken Dice, who at the moment could really defeat me. Not just could, but would. I could hear his breathing, see his movements, and "remembered" his skill, even though I had only seen Ridan's fights from the stands. There was no doubt - I had no chance in a fight with him. Not a single one. Such an experienced warrior wouldn't make a foolish mistake, wouldn't expose himself. And whatever I thought or imagined about myself, the truth was that he was better than me. I was too weak and hadn't gained the experience of real battles that the "past me" had. I couldn't stand against such an enemy. A five-time champion of the Deytran Arena was no empty words or inflated title. Behind it stood genuine mastery.

"Can we part in peace?" I asked in a ghostly hope.

"No." The parchment that Ridan had been holding in his left hand all this time burst into transparent flames and burned away without a trace.

So much for negotiations...

The long sword, whose blade was covered in the intricate script of the dwarven tongue, left its sheath. None of us had taken a step or swung a weapon, but the battle had already begun.

"Bang!" My lips silently pronounced.

While he was talking, I didn't waste any time and loaded a full cylinder of "Mitrailleuse." With an amazingly graceful cat-like motion, Ridan swayed his body. Two magical "bullets" passed just centimeters from his neck. The third one hit his avalonium pauldron and, without causing much harm, spread out over the armor in a dull flash. I wouldn't have time to load another "cylinder," so I played my last trump card:

"Dance!"

A minute later, Ridan began to smile. He, like me, was enjoying the duel. However, ulike my joy, which was induced by the skill's enchantment, his was rooted in his character. Usually, none of his opponents could last this long, and he was genuinely pleased to have found someone who didn't perish at the first swing of his sword.

Despite the "Dance," Ridan was better than me in every way. His movements were impeccably precise, and the dwarf-forged blade in his hands was always in the right place at the right moment. Even my ultimate skill, compared to the perfection of his movements, seemed like a clumsy country dance next to a performance by a principal dancer of the Royal Ballet.

Another minute passed, and it was my gymnast skills that helped me survive this time. I jumped, twisted, and spun in ways that any director making fantasy films about kung-fu masters would sell their soul to capture this scene.

But...

But it wasn't enough.

My attempt to play dirty and use the Sacred Barrier didn't work; the champion of the Deytran Arena didn't lose combat concentration for even a moment after my shout mentioning questers and Earth.

Ridan just kept moving forward, parrying all my blows as if he could read them in advance or foresee the future. His movement was like a tank rolling over a lone infantryman armed only with a rifle. One mistake, and I would be crushed under the treads of this flawless "machine." And I knew that, eventually, I would make that mistake.

The speed of our duel reached such a limit that neither of us even attempted to use magic. It was honest metal that decided who would live and who would die. Striking Whisper against People's Bane. And why did I remember the name of Ridan's sword? No idea! The memory came at such an inopportune moment and only distracted me, breaking my concentration for a fraction of a second...

The touch of the sword was almost weightless. Red blood began to drip onto the yellow stone from the wound on my thigh. A long, shallow cut didn't sever any tendons or cut through muscles, but it was enough. In Ridan's eyes, I saw an understanding that mirrored what I already knew.

It was all over.

Only agony awaited me. But the Dance wouldn't let me lower my hands. If only I could just hit him once. Just once!

A light cut, even less than the one left by the People's Bane on my thigh, and the Kiss of Seguna would fly off the Striking Whisper, partially evening the odds.

My chance was a single swift attack into which I would put everything. And Ridan understood this even better than I did; I could see it in his eyes.

He was ready. But I had no choice. In that attack, I poured everything, burning all the resources of my body and Core in an instant.

And this gamble didn't pay off...

Yes, I still managed to get him. A light cut under his right knee. Only now, I didn't have time to use the effect of the Kiss of Seguna because my body was pierced through by his sword.

I was already dead, another five or six breaths, and life would leave my body, but the Dance didn't let go. Dropping the Striking Whisper, I grabbed the hilt of the enemy's sword.

As soon as I let go of the spear, the Dance ceased, but that didn't stop me. A sharp movement, a step forward. I impaled myself on the blade covered in the dwarven script, and the grinding of metal against my spine didn't stop me. For a brief moment, our faces were only about ten centimeters apart.

Despite the experience of hundreds of battles, Ridan the Honest Sword was not prepared for such a turn of events. I managed to surprise him. Just for a moment.

My forehead hit his face with all my might. And this was no simple strike, it was strengthened by Discharge and the Rune of Des, drawn with Illusion magic on my Stoneskin-reinforced forehead.

The flash of Discharge momentarily blinded Ridan. And my forehead broke the bones of his nose. Only this time, the Rune failed me. The Spirit Armor neutralized the runic impact. Nevertheless, I partially succeeded. Ridan's head was thrown back, his hands bound by my palms, and I saw his exposed neck.

Fair fight... Duel rules... I didn't care about them.

My jaws, in a bestial snarl, rushed to his neck. Only the instincts of an experienced warrior made Ridan take half a step back at the last moment, and my teeth snapped at the air with a loud click.

I made my bet and lost...