"Metyr? What?"

"Yes. But his strength did not lie in the fact that he knew many spells or was a unique metentis with secret knowledge. All he had was fire and darkness. His strength lies in another thing - in knowledge. He always understood at what moment, which spell to use. He had no equal."

Egon looked at the burning candle stub, looked at the small red-yellow light circling around its axis under the gusts of the draft. He thought about how much Metyr - the great metentis and inventor, could have taught him. And how everything ended in one moment. Egon hated Thomas even more, calling himself a fucking hypocritical scum, for whom even the eternal torment in the torture chambers of hell will be an easy punishment. When he freed his head from thoughts, he heard the last phrase of Marcellinus:

"In any case, you will not have enough time to go to such a long way and not lose your friend."

"What should we do?" Guillotine asked.

"Find those who will save him – the metentises of the light."

"And where can we find them?"

Marcellinus opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue and Egon saw the seal of darkness on it and got up and hit the table with all his strength, it broke and fell to the floor.

"Fuck! Fuck! I hate this seal, I hate it!"

Marcellinus waited until he calmed down and said:

"Me too my friend, me too. Considering that this seal is applied to almost all the metentises of light, so if they are captured, they could not tell anything. Despite this, I did not finish, I know someone who can tell you. He's in Agernox."

"Fuck. I'm so sorry."

"This table survived the Great Metentis War, it's eight hundred years old. But it didn't survive you."

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"I'm sorry."

"It's a pity that it died like this."

"I'm sorry. I'll buy you a new one."

"No, thank you. Just don't break anything else."

"Who can help us?"

"His name is Matthew. Of all the metentises of light, he is the greatest and most powerful. He has killed so many inquisitors in his time that their corpses can fill every street of Agernox from top to bottom. Only he needs a special approach…"

"Can't he cure Homer?" Guillotine interrupted Marcellinus again.

"Please, my friend, don't interrupt."

"Sorry."

"He can't. He, like me, has lost his former strength. Age takes its toll. Unlike the Inquisitors, we can't live forever and are gradually losing our power."

"Why?" Egon asked.

"Because the metovis of darkness makes you an undead, who has nothing to do with the living, neither old age nor illness. They're already dead. We are real people. And we have our own limits."

"They don't look like zombies, and we killed one dead man, tho," Ofir replied.

"They don't look like that, because they hide their true appearance with a metovis. It's unlikely that the people of Agernox would believe the undead, right? And the fact that you killed the inquisitor doesn't surprise me. They may be dead, but the universal laws of life work on them, albeit strangely and with reservations. Blow up Alba and he won't live. His ash will spread through the wind and that's the end of it. Infect him with a disease, and he won't even notice, cut off his hand, and it won't grow, cut off his head, and he will die. To tell the truth, not all inquisitors are dead men. Metovis of darkness is strengthened by the number of enemies of the opposite element killed by you. It does not matter whether the element of the first group or the second. The higher the skill level, the more they turn into undead. If you killed an inquisitor, and he remained a human, then you killed someone from a lower rank, although even they are strong. Metovis is multifaceted. I've only told you the basics. When you gain strength, you will understand all the subtleties through experience."

Everyone smiled and nodded their heads.

"Back to business. Matthew is a strange old man, but honest and fair. Now he is going through not his best times and is in a deep stage of melancholy…"

Marcellinus did not have time to finish the sentence, as there was a knock on their door, and a few seconds later someone broke it down and four people with weapons broke into the apartment. Marcellinus immediately realized who they were - marauders with a special sign of the allies of the rebels. They without ceremony destroyed the grandfather clock, chairs and ordered everyone to stand.

"You've killed our brothers!" one of them shouted. "And the only punishment for this is death!"