Chapter 11

* * *

So many times in my past life, which is normal and not this dancing on a rake, have I read the works of all sorts of random graphomaniacs, but there were always some regularities. Here, for example, consider the same elven issue. It seemed to be the duty of every writer to stick a proud and haughty elfess with an inflated ego in the team of a hero and write about how this hero nobly tames her in a couple of weeks. And, of course, the constant dialogues about racial superiority and how people are all stinky assholes and only elven beauty can save the world from destruction.

After communicating, and not, as you thought, with a real elf, I can only laugh at what was written in those books. And that's not going to be a fun laugh. I'll tell you that. To begin with, reading from the appearance and behavior of an elf's real attitude towards you is not even a hopeless case, but something even dumber. A well-trained eared one's face and facial expressions are of such quality that to play poker with them is a priori to losing money.

When it comes to someone like my new teammate, it's ridiculous. With her experience, she could play any social role she wanted without the distraction of maintaining a mask. For that matter, she'd been a Junior Gardener in Imperial Park for three and a half years, maintaining quite a workable false identity. And not an unsociable recluse with oddities but a typical average lady who came from the commoners.

She chatted, joked, gossiped, discussed stupid men, drank with her friends, and even received and paid attention to various individuals, even though she had no intention of having any kind of intimate relationship or intimacy except for a few suggestive recollections of a hot night. And yet no one, not once in all this time, has suspected her of being a masked and illusory murderer who has already sentenced, among others, them, too. The latter is no joke - during the attack, most of the gardeners died out, along with random passersby. And those who weren't there by chance are sure to be rotting in the dungeons by angry guards and Eyes.

And with our gang of lunatics, Tialrianrelia had come together with the same ease with which she had joined other groups - smoothly, unobtrusively, and naturally. She allowed her name to be abbreviated to Tia, or simply Ti - abbreviations of that sort were permissible even among elves, especially if they were in combat situations and there was no time for fancy language. But here it was, obviously because she didn't want to hear the human version of her name mutilated in any way.

For all that she had placed her fate in my hands, she was still an elf who was a priori uncomfortable with the company of humans and a monster. But I was the only one who could see that, and that was solely due to clairvoyance and the fact that she barely concealed it. She even intentionally presented herself that way - no insults, no conflict, no attempts to hurt, but a clear message that she was not human and never would be.

A separate story was Hestia and her condition, which Tia immediately recognized as soon as I lowered the disguise from our misty lady. Hestia's personal abilities could fool an average sensor, or even a not-so-average one, but her false body was practically transparent in front of a high-level seer. To say that she was surprised or frightened would be a bit of an exaggeration, but a slight note of unease clearly flashed through her at that moment. Now, Hestia wasn't exactly a threat to her. Even if the adept of the Mist could withstand the elfess' attacks and let them pass through, she could do nothing to her. The former warrior would not have the strength to hold her in her misty embrace long enough to distort the elven essence. Tia, on the other hand, could tear the mist from her body with one decisive blow.

The rest of the introductions were peaceful and measured, as they should be among high-ranking, well-seasoned individuals. Only Taria, in her customary way, sobbed that she hadn't been able to "squeeze an elf's tits." If she embarrassed anyone with those words, it was Losius, who was still a little embarrassed by such manners. Tia only nodded politely and expressed such sincere sympathy that it was literally comical in that situation.

That's how we all met.

Only having slept and paid tribute to the rules of politeness, the druid immediately got down to business. And the first "business" was the mechanics of the anti-prophetic protection over our heads. Apparently, the barely audible chanting of the pieces of mirror stuck in the walls and ceiling was getting on her nerves, which made sense. I'm the one who works with planes without proper safety precautions, on my intuition alone. You could say, I build working nuclear power plants using only shit, sticks, and hard swearing. I don't even know what pissed her off more - the danger of my crafts or the fact that they still work.

"I've had occasion to work both in tandem with and against Mirror Masters." She explained, carefully circling the base mirrors in the attic, where all the other shards were tied. "But they, to replicate what I see here, would take many months, if not years. Certainly not ordinary pieces of debris and simple mirrors, such as you can get at the nearest fair. Perhaps the results of their work would have been more presentable, and their strength would have been higher... but to build such a complex structure out of nothing in a few weeks?"

"Oh, so flattering!" I responded by keeping my palms on the surface of one of the mirrors, simultaneously wrapping myself in dozens of lilac ribbons that make up a veritable ligature of encapsulated dreams and images. "A little more, and I'll practically believe it."

I would have said it more snidely, but the tension was really palpable, requiring me to spend my reserves and be constantly distracted by possible overlaps. Something dangerous I wouldn't allow, right, but even the smallest thing, like a slightly fuzzy vision, a misshapen image, or a recurring dream where it wasn't supposed to be, could be a clue leading to my asshole. Even I'd have to dig through many, many dreams to spot something like that, but there are many imperials! And among them, there will be those who will also be able to notice such mistakes, and when they notice, they will try to find the one who created such a high-quality deception. I will hide, but the supposed enemy will not go anywhere either.

"First of all, my words are an understatement, not an exaggeration of your merits." With just the right amount of harshness and disapproval, she retorted. "I apologize, though. I'm acting in a familiar pattern of behavior, and it's hard for me to change my mind abruptly."

With my fingers, which had already lost their skin folds and fingerprints for half an hour, I caulked the small cracks in the material's structure, restoring the mirror-like structure with a pinpoint infusion of energy. The shock of the search pulse, launched by the Avatar, only by a miracle and my paranoia, which forced me to apply triple duplication of contours, was limited to the exhausted shards, with no fatal consequences on the base. But not quite fatal was enough, which I had to compensate for.

"Are there really that many narcissistic fools among us?" Talking to her not only didn't interfere with my work, but it helped me keep myself in a normal position, not letting my body distort above my wrists. "Even among those, someone like you had to work with?"

The crack finally closed and was erased in every sense of the word, but instead, two new cracks appeared - much smaller and not so dangerous, but it was too early to leave the objectified portal to Dream unattended. In fact, there were more cracks at first, but the gradual mashing of some at the cost of others reduced their number to almost zero. I'll fix those, too, even though it's boring as hell.

"Much more than it may seem at first glance," Tia answers in the same cautious tone, trying not to get too close to the even more singing mirror. "Properly presented flattery often helps where threats, bribery, or persuasion cannot help. It is up to the mind of the person to whom the praise is directed to concentrate it."

The last of the cracks disappear. I shake my hands, returning them to their normal human appearance while simultaneously unraveling the spindle of dreams on my clothes, throwing the false images I'd prepared into a kind of generator. If not screwed up, such an addition will allow the mirrors to refract the garbage visions collected inside and create new ones from them, completely random and just as meaningless. And anyone who can break through the outer layer, looking into this trap, will receive either another soft deception or... a gulp of mirror distortion, where all visions are so fractured in corridors of reflection that they will scorch too curious brains with their insanity. There's the way Tia tensed up when she realized exactly what I had prepared here.

"Are there many who have to be flattered by showing how smart he is that he saw the attempt at flattery, too?" I shook myself off finished my work, and slowly reduced the filing of both mirrors and splinters, putting them back into defensive and waiting mode.

"Much more than the first." This snake answers as if it had to be so. "At a certain level, fools who are easy to fool or outplay are eliminated, and when dealing with those who remain, a certain amount of sincere respect must be shown. At least because that respect is deserved."

We both understand perfectly well the messages in each other's phrases, simply because it is rather difficult to deceive clairvoyants like us, especially those so closely intertwined in our attention. Rather, it is a peculiar demonstration of tactics in different situations. She sensed my unspoken desire to better understand their diplomats' modus operandi, immediately rearranging her manner in the right way, letting me consider the standard gimmicks and techniques that she wields.

"How are the professional messengers better than you in this matter?" I stretch my back and open a flask with a tonic mixture of tinctures.

"Incomparably better." She takes the flask from my hands, takes a few cautious sips, and gives it back to me. "A true virtuoso of the word will deceive even you, Tin, especially if there is no way to force him to answer directly. However, if you personally are not going to follow the etiquette and the code of negotiation, then you can simply ostentatiously open his deception by direct exposure. Some will be able to distort the truth even in this position, but I can't speak with absolute certainty."

The potions worked well, not only restoring my strength but also increasing the rate of natural recovery from our almost shared adventures. I had no permanent injuries, and she had successfully healed them through my efforts, but we were both in somewhat depressing shape. And while I was limited to the effects of my overuse of un-existence and clairvoyance, she had the added trauma of the energy body.

I had to make her several very complicated potions, literally adapting them to her physiology on the fly. The sight of me swapping the essential concepts of five different potions with three bowls, a mug, an alcohol burner, and a homemade moonshine machine was the only thing that broke through her armor of indifference at this point. I could understand a lot of it - it was quite a surreal sight.

"So skillfully lying?" I listen to myself, assessing the reserve that has dropped by more than a quarter, cursing once again at Weaver for the geometric cost of hiding my footprint.

"Rather, so artfully told the truth." She emphasized that last word, making it the main focus of the whole sentence. "I don't have really complete knowledge of the peculiarities of their classes, for they try not to tell such secrets to anyone except their students and the first of the Lords, but I do know that such a master is able to convince his interlocutor that the sky is green. Not to compel with mental magic, not to charm with a stream of words, not to weave a subconscious web, but to convince. A rather insidious ability because of which negotiators are never given enough credit. Especially star-born ones. However, they try to apply this in a minimal manifestation, not wishing to give another reason for suspicion."

After the work of rebuilding the defensive lines is completed, we go downstairs, where the rest of the company is already playing another batch of cards. Unlike those days when we were sitting on the farm before the assault on the Stone, no one takes even a drop of alcohol into their mouths. At any moment, the situation may call for decisive action, so our readiness is high.

"Can such an expert, for example, tell a truth in which there are no arrows flying at him or wounds on his body?" At this point, my interest is not at all feigned.

"I don't think so." A barely perceptible negative shake of the head and a few nods to my companions who had never been distracted from their party. "Direct manipulation of reality is very rare at all and most common in planar class wielders. Masters of Negotiation don't like to associate themselves even with Astral, let alone Dream. And non-planar distortion of existence... In combat, it could be used by very few of the endowed, and almost none of them were my kindred. Most of it was the prerogative of divine entities, exalted above the living and their fate.

"I feel there is some sort of reticence here." I don't insist, but I hint that I would very much like to hear this reticence. "I'm not intruding. I'm just curious."

We went into a separate room and sat down, but not for cards, just for a cup of tea. The tea was brewed by the one of us who was good at brewing things, and that was me. Although Tia, I note, has the skill of alchemy at the level of a full-fledged master. Without the lab and class-specific skills, she is practically incapable of making anything, but she could make tea, too. Either I don't trust her enough, or she has gently tricked me into making that tea.

"It's not about any secrets." She immediately raised her hands in a gesture of agreement. "The reason for my silence is that I don't like the subject. And I don't think any other Starborn would want to tell you about it, either. If they have walked under the stars long enough to remember that kind of gray-haired antiquity. Even by our standards, this man lived a very, very long time ago, just as his deeds have long since fallen into oblivion."

I am not afraid of the fact that the potion has no negative effects at all, and I am not afraid of the negative aspects that could lead to an increase in intoxication. While we were still on our voyage through the wilderness, I somehow unnoticed the rosy dream of most alchemists of the world - the ability to create potions that have no negative effects at all. I was not intoxicated, not addicted, not even psychologically dependent. Although, the latter can only be countered by high concentration and sheer force of will. I have a great deal of experience in this field, but I am not so good at making potions that are practically useless at my level, such as the one with a pleasant taste, a light healing effect, no conflict with other potions, and the ability to speed up the recovery of damaged bodies.

"You're talking about the Hentai King, aren't you?" I hand the bowl to her and take one myself, finally sitting down in a chair and letting my back, which had been stiff from being hunched over for so long, relax. "Oh, damn, I should have put the mirrors on some stands instead of transforming them directly on the floor."

"It's rather strange to hear the cursed name from a human." It's not that she's surprised, but she's shed her carefree look, falling into a very thoughtful state. "May I ask about the sources from which you learned about him? All of us, all of Woods, every single one of us, have been extremely careful to erase any mention of the nature of his powers."

"It's not from anywhere." I waved her off, ignoring her reaction, knowing full well that it wasn't a threat, but a kind of reflexive disgust at the sight of a poisonous spider. "Accidentally caught a clairvoyance when I was looking for the answer to a question."

"I will allow myself to express disbelief." She had already come to her senses and expressed her apology with just a slight smile and a tilt of her head. "I can't compare to you in pure talent and power, but I can assess this talent quite accurately. Finding information about this endowed man by chance is possible, though difficult, and not to erase all mention of his deeds. But not about his powers."

I look at her with real surprise, realizing she's so gently asking me to tell her what search markers I used when I stumbled upon my knowledge. Only then did I realize the irony of the situation. It makes me chuckle involuntarily, almost turning into laughter. I couldn't tell her what I'd used my clairvoyance for that time.

"To repeat your own words: it was a blow to the void." Here I correcting the original message a bit. "Or rather, a spontaneous guess based on your words. I did not know about the classes of your greatest pervert, but I related your reluctance to talk about him and the fact how much he was once hated by all of yours."

"Suppose." And now she tensed even more, and in her posture, there was a slight but discernible panic at the very edge of a sharply heightened sense of foreboding. "And the name by which the cursed king was called by his closest disciples, did you also accidentally call him?"

It then dawned on me that she was really very... not even frightened, but rather puzzled. It is difficult to describe this mixture of emotions, which she deliberately does not hide, letting herself be read openly. A kind of mixture of panic, stale grief, humility over choices already made, and a willingness to be wrong in her judgments. It seems that she took me for one of the students of that guy, carefully making it clear that, despite all the possible attitudes toward this person, she would not change sides, nor would she doubt the correctness of the chosen path.

"I said it casually, without thinking about it at all." I partially revealed my essence, making Tia shudder at the perceptual energies of Shadow and Dream. "I was only recently summoned to Alurei. I learned about this character less than two months ago."

It took her a few seconds to regain her composure to the point where even I no longer noticed the distress. Though a normal person wouldn't have known anything about her, her composure was so iron. She took a deep breath, as if she'd been overcome by obsession, stretching all her muscles, and then took a large sip of her brew.

"Damn, Summoned with all your common sense-denying nature." Translated into human terms, it was a long and expressive swearing,.at maximum volume and with feet stomping on the floor. "For a second, I actually believed I had met one of them. I'm sorry, Tin, but apparently, my experience had blurred the usual line between the probable and the impossible."

Silently I watch, trying to copy the questioning eyebrow raised by Rickman described in thousands of fanfics. Eventually, she can't stand this Stanislavsky torture and begins to talk.

"My mother's mother was one of those who was made different by an apprentice of the Damned." She answered in the tone of a story that was painful but had long since become a mere memory. "And afterward, it was no longer she, one of the hundred strongest hypnotists in the Forest, who bewitched my mother's sister and her son, who had just taken the Path of the Blade. I was very young then, not even half a century old, but I remembered it for the rest of my life."

"Um..." I'm a little lost trying to find the words, not understanding what I should do with this information. "Wait! Did she take her son and daughter to him?"

"For the King, it was his favorite perversion, and his disciples and followers inherited it to its fullest extent." Already without too much pain or emotion, Tia replied, finishing her tea, however, in one gulp, like a shot of vodka. "Forcing mothers to seduce their daughters for them, forcing them to happily destroy their sons' minds, turning them into exemplary canvases of perversions. Worst of all, their identities did not die but changed so much that they froze at the very edge when there was no way to force themselves to end their torment, but there is no way or hope to reverse the changes either."

I'm more likely to use logic than intuition to figure out the approximate fate of Tia's relatives, trying not to throw in any jokes mentioning Stifler's mom, keeping Soul of Mocker from trying to ruin the mood of the people around me again. It's not hard. If remembering that the one around her is a high-level liquidator killer with a fucking long memory.

Ahem.

Incest is a family matter.

"Did he, the King, I mean, have narrow eyes?" I ask a very important question.

"As far as I know, he was neither Saitian nor Lanaya." She recalled thoughtfully, evidently employing some mnemonic technique. "But he had some of their blood in his veins. At least if one could believe those, who described his appearance. Few of those who had seen him up close could be considered a reliable source of information. Anyone caught in his field of influence was considered compromised once and for all. This directive took a long time to come to fruition, paying for it with many deaths. This is not to say that, even to me, the cursed man was and is a character of terrible tales, more a measure of fiction than a real person."

We were silent for a few minutes, cloaked in our disguises, not even dropping a sound. I had no idea what Tia was thinking, and I didn't want to know. I was, for the umpteenth time, freaking out about this world and the dickheads who inhabited it. How many more of these stories of monsters and other monsters were lurking in the dust of the ages? And what's the likelihood that I'll accidentally hit them sooner or later?

Or they will hit me.

* * *

Tia's recovery is proceeding rather quickly, both because of the class toughness and survivability of the druids and because of my potions, which, for all their unsightly packaging, remain the work of the mythical class owner. I had already come to relative normalcy, allowing myself cautious attempts to see through the clairvoyance of the mess going on, trying not to attract attention with triple the effort. It didn't work out very well, and I didn't look very far, limiting myself to looking for danger for all of us in the near future.

It helped that, like most of the newcomers or suspicious individuals, we were politely asked not to leave our homes, our neighborhoods, or the city unless necessary. We were checked only a few times by the usual guards with sensors and priests attached. The latter, of course, was full of borrowed power, which put them five levels above their real rate, but to discern my deception and my influence, actually being in a closed field created and controlled by me, they could not even in theory. I had only to hide Tia because we were not supposed to have an extra person with us.

To her credit, despite her ingrained xenophobia, she took us all seriously. I mean, she didn't begin to feel a sudden love and understanding for humans, but she gave off a fair amount of credit for those who were accepted into the team by a full-fledged Summoned. Given the talents of this very team, her attitude is quite justified. Due to the many titles and the very aggressive pumping that gave them many extra skill points, they could safely add a minimum of ten levels on top, and still not enough will be enough.

Even Taria, with all her aplomb and obnoxious temperament, could easily surprise opponents far more dangerous than herself. She could read the situation and make decisions instantly, no joke. According to her, she looked up to me. Though the praise is nice, my stupid awesomeness is due to the shadow sphere, clairvoyance, and upwardly-paced stats that give me a complete picture of what's going on around me. Taria, on the other hand, had only her powers and a completely sick imagination.

Her attitude toward the new addition to our little hobby club was... strange. If Losius was skeptical and wary of the new comrade-in-arms, and if Hans didn't care enough as long as she stayed out of his way, then Taria was clearly intent on pissing off Tialrianrelia. Not for any dislike or disloyalty but purely for the sake of sport.

Her attempt to make the same argument as Hestia ended in a few seconds of silence, after which the elfess rolled her eyes, and the same unspoken light of the primordial stars reeked from her for a moment. Then, with a pained look on her face after regaining her composure, she accepted, with equal calm, that she could only repel such a subjugating attack if she knew how to prepare. But she would not risk letting her comrade-in-arms think she had won the argument.

After that, it began.

* * *

It was an amazing confrontation between the composure of a highly experienced teacher and psychologist and a young asshole who could make even the stones of the sidewalk go berserk. The analogy was just begging to be made. It was so similar. All her experience and moral pressure could not suppress Taria's unquenchable enthusiasm. Doubtless, if an elf decided to play dirty, she could easily suppress the far less mature personality of a human woman... But Taria didn't play dirty either, staying exactly at the level where you want to kill her, but you're too lazy, and there's no reason to. I know, I know, I've been there.

Add to that all the shit she'd been through, which would have made other high-ranking men go gray thirty times over, and the picking was no longer a one-way affair. The average elf is far more dangerous than the average human, but Taria, for all her insufferable nature, had long ceased to be average. I had the feeling she was still chasing her dream, her desire to stop being that petty criminal with no purpose or meaning.

To stop being one of.

So much so she does not even notice and does not realize to the end, how much she has already achieved her goals. Or rather, she does, but she doesn't want to stop there. If Taria's fate had been different. If she hadn't met me and fallen into the vortex of self-destruction, she would have been a model adventurer. Or a slavemancer - even without the hypnosis, she's good at getting people to do her bidding. She had given up a lot of her desires when she had chosen the Dancer class, but she had a lot of potential in that direction. A Seductress, possibly pure Slavemancer... but fate does not permit the subjunctive inclination.

What was that all about?

She did manage to exchange banter with Tia, if not equally, at a level where the druid couldn't do it in the background without paying any attention to the short-eared pervert. She had to pay attention, which probably caused the newcomer involuntary irritation, which Taria picked up with some eighth sense without being fooled by her unflappable appearance.

All Hans and I had to do was take bags of peanut kernels and munch them instead of popcorn, watching these two. The betting, by the way, had to be done out of their sight for all the odds.

"There's one thing I don't understand, my dear T." Taria, as always, preferred to speak loosely and simply. Though, I know very well her training in dreaming had given her enough knowledge to pass herself off as a proper lady of noble birth, if necessary. Here you are saying that all of you can't stand brainiac classes. You've also explained why and in a way that even I understood, and that's an indicator! But, I've been told by Tin and his dreams and Lo and his family training that you're no strangers to such classes. Don't you have, and I'll quote you now, a conflict of mental directives?"

I had a lot to say on the subject, on every side of the barricades, but for now, I wanted to twist my head off so it wouldn't hurt. I was too keen on peeking, so I almost got caught in a cleverly installed divine alarm, complete with some artifact of at least a legendary grade. I jump out, throwing in place a decoy, prepared just for such an occasion, but the overstress came out quite real. I will not go there alone without preparation. I just have the perfect candidate for a partner.

"First of all, there are very few Slavemancers and Corrupters among the starborn people, even if they do occur." As if written, the liquidator objected. "Those elves who work with subtle influences on the mind prefer more universal classes, if not just skills and artifacts, so as not to arouse suspicion by their class. Secondly, there are almost none of the children of the Stars make other endowed ones into toys for bed, for sale, or simply for the love of art."

"You know, I'm not very good at this shit, but in my opinion, if something looks like a goblin, acts like a goblin, and even smells like a goblin, it's a goblin." Taria, if she noticed the non-verbal signals of reluctance to continue the subject, habitually ignored them. "What's subtle, what's thick, what's green-spotted at all - you're just fuck your enemies in the brain. The rest is trivia."

"Quite right." To my and Taria's surprise, Tia doesn't even try to dispute this fact. "I don't have to convince you that any elf is just as adept at using a double standard as any other endowed or sentient monster. The only difference is that starborns clearly distinguish between themselves and others, those whom they do not pity and against whom any means are good."

Even Taria, with all her tactlessness, caught the unspoken hint, which, by Elvish standards, amounted to a furious yell right in her interlocutor's face. She wasn't one of them, then, either, since she'd had her brains scrambled. No wonder she'd gone off the rails - after all she'd been through and lived through for the good of her brothers and sisters, to receive such a response to a request for justice was something far worse and more insulting than a spit in the face.

I can't judge with any certainty, for I'm not an elf, but honestly, I wish they hadn't touched her. Did they think that by helping her forget her loss, they were helping her, or did they just not want to lose their "server's" top assassin? Had they left her alone, she simply would have remembered forever, perhaps joined the opposition to the ruling elites of the Eternal Forest. And she certainly wouldn't go back to sniping other people's lives at their behest. But she would not go to kill the Prince.

And now the Eternal Forest is without two mythical artifacts, several very experienced and irreplaceable personalities, and, in fact, Tialrianrelia. But there is a scandal that has every chance of escalating into military conflict, and internal strife in which the Eared one will look for any blame for this failure and a sense of missed opportunity to make things right. The last one is the most disgusting, knowing that it could have been done differently, and everything would have been fine, not the way it is now.

Tia might not have let her bard go on his final journey, keeping either by authority or boobs. The bard might not have dragged his bones through the imperial wilderness, having run into some Eternal family secret. The Prince could have simply taken the bard prisoner and wiped out a chunk of his memories from the last couple of years, dumping him somewhere away from that cave and wiping out the images from the interference of the visionaries. Everyone could have done things differently, but then Alurei wouldn't be Alurei, humans wouldn't be humans, and elves wouldn't be elves.

"Um..." I wouldn't say the little brat felt guilty, but there was a certain uncomfortableness in her emotion. "Excuse me?"

"Come on." Really sincere, as if disregarding the sadness and emptiness in her heart, Tia responded. "It's too late to regret what can't be undone. My pain stays with me, no matter if I'm reminded of it. Just try, for the sake of all the gods, don't pull off my clothes with your eyes."

"Hey!" Indignation abruptly reaches peak power. "I don't know how to pull clothes off with a gaze! My classes don't do that kind of thing! Or... wait, are you saying I can learn?"

"No... I don't know exactly." The elf objected, pulling back a little. "I was just using the standard imperial word construction, not implying any other meaning."

"Stop avoiding, T!" In response to her attempts to move away, Taria, with a flaming look in her eyes, began to move in on the new girl. "For an elf to say something without a double bottom? No way! How do I use my skills to undress a girl from a distance, T.? Create a semi-liquid illusion and materialize under her clothes? No? Something else? Pure telekinesis isn't available to me... or is it not available yet? T, at what rank, T? Or do you have to have some tricky title?"

The priceless look on Tialrianrelia's face, realizing that she could not change the mind of her companion now, broke through even her indifference. In an instant, she glanced around the living room of our retreat, looking for support but finding none. Hans just laughed, laughing at the sight of Taria in a fit of rage, Losius sat silently with his face in his hands beside Hestia in the same posture, and all I could do was put a glass bottle of alchemically purified ice water to my head and think that human passion was the one thing that kept the long-lived races from ruling the world. To any genius honed by eternity, we can respond with illogical stupidity.

Spitting on her attempt to keep her face, Tia strained her almost regained magical potential and simply sank into the wooden floor, hiding from sight and perception, which only further convinced Taria that she really knew the answer to her question. And something tells me that this lunatic is going to learn how to pull a woman's underwear off with her gaze just because she thinks it's possible.

Hm...

Is it really possible?

After a few seconds, I was no longer sighing sadly, trying to cool my buzzing head but trying to figure out how to implement such a technique with Taria's classes... or my own. Or even the other guys' classes. The easiest would be Hans, of course. He has a special relationship with reality space. But what sort of expenses would it take to teleport women's panties to my outstretched palm? And it's not even the costs that matter, but the control, otherwise, a piece of the girl herself can be teleported, especially if her level is not high enough to repel such an accidental attack.

And if, on the contrary, the level is too high? I, for example, can easily destroy any subtle magical influences that try to check my figure in search of, say, socks. And I would destroy them on reflex before I realized I was being attacked. I suppose high-level chicks like Tia or the other girls on our team would be able to do the same. So, what? That's right! So we have to disguise the effect as a natural background or go through a planar effect, which is much harder to repel. And it's easier to cripple with a planar effect than with pure enchantments, which brings us back to our first question.

Twice, hm...

Is it possible to use Shadow Theft to steal something tangible? Suppose I use stealing as a base to affect the fabric of reality through Shadow Manifestation. Given the current pumping of this seems a relatively useless skill at first, it allows for quite wide-ranging effects. From peculiar and very dangerous portals to even the Bastion, which I used in Tavimark.

Suppose I bind the item of clothing to the shadow stolen from it, after which... it doesn't do shit. I can disintegrate it, but not move it into my hands, or at least onto myself (which I'd rather not do because I'll have to prove I'm straight). I can even, with some reservations, turn my underwear, or any other piece of clothing, into a short-term artifact, albeit quite dangerous, but not stable.

A Shadow might come to my call, but Shadows don't live in the panties of any pretty women unless the pretty woman is of a very high level and completely crazy. But I don't think my feminine form is anywhere near there. But the idea is actually a good one! Not about the presence of my other half in the world, but about The Shadow in the panties. I have this great thing called Shadow Creation, which allows me to create Shadows from the right material. For something serious, I have to find an involuntary Shadow donor who will go for the material, but it seems to be easier here. I don't need a warrior, or an assassin, or an infiltrator, or even a cloak holder like the one we used to go to the Library.

But I can't make do with just the reserves and the will of the Overlord, either. Completely artificial Shadows are too weak, and my design should, in theory, work even against high-level babes capable of defending themselves and their underwear. But the need to procure and use any strong Shadows for material would make it unprofitable to use my as-yet-unfinished technique.

Okay.

Then we'll limit ourselves to the usual inferior Shadows, which I could summon in hordes even without the cost of a reserve - they'll spend theirs, rushing to my command, just so they don't die. Catch a nonvolunteer, and then dismember him into different parts, discarding those that contain aggressive impulses. I'm going to mold and mold, twist, and twist, and add a little essence from the Vessel so that the creation will not die before its time, after which we should get the planned something.

It was not even a Shadow but a kind of stump, supported only by the infusion of reserves and the effects of Manifestation. It was a cross between a Shadow and a complex magical structure, like the pseudo-body I used when I was fighting the Slavecatchers back in Melareth before the Stone. The thing is so low in energy that standard defenses simply can't work on it - it's not even a blob of energy. It's a simple two-dimensional shadow, only not cast by anything.

Now we complete it with Manifestation, mate it with Theft, and finish it off with a file and microscopic infusions of energy to keep it from lighting up in front of the sensors, just in case. The result comes out pretty interesting, although I would have preferred something more mobile. Covertly and quickly preparing such a thing is possible only in advance, but if the desire to steal the panties elf princess appears spontaneously, right at some ball, then quickly performing the entire sequence of actions will not work - too many witnesses. We take the danger of being surrounded by the highest bar at the ball of the elven princesses, don't we?

In this position, without giving myself away, I could complete the operation in about five to seven minutes if I were invited to the ball. If I had to masquerade as one of the guests or servants, I'd need at least half an hour so as not to give myself away through gaps in the concealment from the security systems and the clairvoyants who must be watching over such parties.

Okay, now finish, add here, reduce the load a little bit here, and...

"She doesn't want to answer, Tin!" Bursts back into the hall inexplicably outrushed and very indignant Taria. "This is a big deal! You might say it's a matter of my growth as a master of battles! If I can learn how to undress beauties with illusions, I'll be able to do that in battle, too! I can take off amulets and rings, unbutton armor, or even hit people's bodies and sprout illusionary blades! Tin, tell her, please... Tin? Are you fucking kidding me? Did you see that?! Why didn't you tell me you could do this before, Tin!!!"

And I stared in mild amazement at the silk panties of Taria in my palm that she had bought in Tavimark, sincerely trying to understand why I had just created a local archmage-level equivalent of a charm just to learn how to steal women's underwear. I guess the wounds 4chan left on my soul never fully healed.

But they never gave me the title, the bastards. I'd like to scold the System for its unfair treatment, but I suspect this trick was originally within my abilities. Only I had to figure it out because it wasn't obvious. I'm even glad they didn't give me the title because I can imagine what the System would have written there.

"Am I entitled to hope that you have not created spells at the level of direct conceptual interference, operating with a stealth that defeats almost every precaution I know, simply out of a desire to appropriate the undergarments of a Star Lord's daughter?" Tialrianrelia asked this question in a strange tone, without disapproval or contempt, but with a slight tinge of shock.

"First of all, it doesn't have to be a princess if I understand the title correctly." I objected while I finished shuffling the essences inside the Vessel, which had dwindled since my attack on the portal-killed Hero. "A human queen would do, too, as long as she was pretty. In fact, I took the Elven princess only as an example - level, training, guards, and enchantments. Second, continuing with the first, if I could stealthily teleport such an intimate thing directly from the victim's body, it would not be difficult to steal some amulet from a protected safe or to move some poison into someone's glass."

My words, like my calm tone, sound somewhat detached, but I'm trying to cram too much essence inside the Vessel right now, which keeps me from letting any extra emotion into my voice. I get a little carried away, and it bursts! I'm not going to get fucked up with all my protection, but the windows in the house might get broken, and that's not only a fine from the guards for practicing alchemy in the wrong place but also extra suspicion for our team.

"Viewed from this angle, I agree with your logic entirely." A slight tilt of the head and a slightly altered posture demonstrate an admission of your error in judging someone who does not deserve that judgment. "You are masterful at shutting concealing existence, and your actions are so... extraordinary that I cannot always tell whether you are acting deliberately or in the manner ascribed to the most... disliked of the Summoned when they walked the earth."

I finish with the Vessel, removing the excess essence into the vials and reattaching it to the material reagents so that it doesn't dissipate into the void, despite the airtight containers. I shake it off, adjusting my clothes and stretching my muscles. It's strange, by the way-despite all my characteristics, long immobility is just as unpleasant as it was before. I can tolerate it for as long as I need to, but in a peaceful environment, the urge to stretch is almost reflexive.

"I can assure you, dear Tialrianrelia, that you really don't know Tin very well." Hestia, sitting against the wall, intervenes, having just finished gathering herself back from the mist form in which she was checking the surroundings for tracers, more practicing her powers than expecting to find something I hadn't noticed. "I'm willing to bet that he came up with that answer for later, and he began to work out the charms just for laughs, just out of a desire to have such a peculiar joke in his arsenal."

I snort angrily, imitating either a teapot or an angry chipmunk, raising my hands in a gesture of defeat, immediately lowering them to wash my face with cool water from a small barrel in the attic set aside for my workshop. I also regularly purify this water of any dirt or impurities.

"Not after, but just now." I corrected my monster by lifting my thumb up with a wistful look. "But seriously, I can really get the urge to create or make jokes. I usually suppress those urges, but sometimes I can't, and then all sorts of nonsense ensues. From potions that flip the digestive system backward to supreme underwear-stealing charms, for which many venerable thieves or murderers would sell their souls and the souls of all their descendants.

"An inspired trance, I understand." The elf nods, really understanding. "It's quite common among high-level craftsmen, even if it's less common and less striking. I can't understand why you allow yourself to be carried away by the waves of imposed will. Under no circumstances would I agree to believe that such a little thing could squeeze your control over yourself. Not after seeing what you can do, where you can step, and how you come back from it."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Hestia raises her eyebrows perplexedly, but then she realizes that Tia is talking about my Form, which is really more mind-blowing than Inspiration or Soul of the Mocker. Perhaps not as subtle and sophisticated, but stronger, much stronger. And that's without taking into account the far more insidious and less straightforward Dream, which I work with so intimately that I regularly have to restore my human form.

"Why?" I asked, and, seeing her indignation, I explained. "I mean, I understand the danger of losing control, much better than most, but what's the point of keeping it all to yourself if it's part of you? Would anyone be hurt by the charms I invented, which are really meant to be useful and might actually come in handy in the future? Well, besides your sense of beauty? Sometimes you have to be able to smile, even if life isn't so good for you. Otherwise, what's the point of living at all?"

We both understood much more from our words than we would have without the use of clairvoyance, but each of us, while understanding and even in places accepting the other's point of view, failed to share it. For her, and for me, control equals existence, but she, in her desire to keep herself in a steel vice, gradually squeezed out all life, leaving only the fine-tuned mechanism of delivering the enemies of her people to the afterlife. A flawless and error-free mechanism, impervious to planar contamination. So even after so many centuries of using her classes, she has not turned into some chthonic abomination.

I am used to working with the alienation of my own emotions, desires, and aspirations that come over me. Not by draining myself of everything that would allow madness to cling to me, but by merging with it, by becoming one with everything that makes me go forward, denying the very possibility of defeat. I won't argue that this method is more dangerous. It would drive me to my grave much faster than the centuries-old elven method. But I'll die the last man I'll ever be. In the end, I'd rather lose once more to the realm that covets my soul than kill everything alive in me myself.

Because time after time to reflect on the hunger of the Shadow, the whispers of a Dream, or the crazy Inspiration of alchemical frenzy I can. With difficulty, with risk, with pain, with swears and tears, but I can. But I'm a little uneasy about what would happen if I killed myself, transformed into something extremely rational and calculating, unable to make mistakes and unable to feel.

After all, it won't be me anymore.

* * *

"You know, Losius, this looks either stupid or scary enough to change the pants." Hans' comment elicited a synchronized look from Hestia and Losius, hinting at the need for silence.

The reason for his words was that Tialrianrelia and I were sitting across from each other, next to a small mirror. The hands that had clasped our palms together formed a circle, and the mirror was inside it. Normally Tia would not have risked messing with Dream, but right now, I had her back, and she could support me, covering where I was too concentrated or pulling some of the load. It was a very specific circle of vision for the two endowed.

All known methods repeatedly point out that it is necessary to choose partners for such interaction more carefully than lovers. At least because the process is, in many ways, even more intimate, and the risk in the case of a mishap is extremely high. In such circles, one prefers not to take those seers who work through one of the realms. Or, if they did, they took only those with the same type of planar connection. Only astral people, or only necroses who saw through Death. Often it is much easier to raise a dozen relatively weak visionaries for the needs of one true master, and he will train his students to the level where they can become masters. Most of the visionaries come out of such mini-academies in this way.

If the visionaries have inappropriate classes and skills, not to mention different planar origins, it's hard to work as a team. This requires either a very cool artifact like the memorable Shoreless Eye, which takes the negation of planar conflict, or the highest professionalism of the participants so as not to hit each other accidentally.

My mirror was no equal to Eye, but we both had enough skill to try to work not just in a bunch, covering each other, but in a miniature circle, literally merging our wills into one. The risk is high, but we will also be able to cover for each other with almost a guarantee, which would not hurt if you remember exactly how we are searched for and by whom.

The essence of Tialrianrelia reeks of the very rotten and decayed life that gives birth to and devours itself. Unlike me, who is much more closely integrated with the realm, her soul remains virtually pure, even if the class has influenced her. And it is not the unnatural Life that worries me now, but her very different class.

As unsightly as her druidic techniques looked, they were clear and familiar enough. Yes, a dangerous power, mastered by her at a level where it was no longer a weapon but an art in its purest form, deadly and perfect. But here is the power of the Stars... that strange, distant, and cold light was not for the living and breathing endowed. Nor was it for the dead. It was not close to anyone, like something equidistant from any living creature, equally alien even to such strange entities as the Shadows or the Nightmares.

I'll have to ask Tia more about what the term "Starborn" means because I'm making uncomfortable parallels to my Shadowborn. And I seem to be drawing them for a reason.

She couldn't help feeling my doubts, not in such close proximity, and I was scaring her a lot more myself. I had to use Dream's power as carefully as possible, building up her power slowly and letting her get used to the pressure. The Shadow was far in the background, unable to help us in our work.

On the one hand, I had to make more of an effort at stealth, and my active actions were limited since Tia was also looking into the mirror through my eyes, and she might not be able to handle too much of the madness. On the other hand, with a visionary of her caliber, even though we couldn't look really deeply, we covered a much broader scope of events.

After a few minutes or so, we found our balance point and, careful not to try to scan each other, got to work.

Tia made an excellent partner, in fact. She realized that she was working through my native realm, so she immediately assumed the role of wingman, supporting my actions.

Alas, this was where our advantages ended, for despite all our skills, we limited each other only slightly less than we reinforced each other. Too different, not just in the realms, but the methods of insight, which made working together prohibitively expensive and difficult. However, we knew this from the beginning, and our goal was not to organize our own circle. We would have started working as a regular bunch, but not as a full-fledged fusion, if it were not for one small fact.

It is I, thanks to my isekai and the anonymity of a true bitard, who remain an unknown factor that neither finds nor even learns of its existence. The high-level combination of un-existence and clairvoyance allowed me to do far more than those of the visionaries who had long been studied by the enemy, which made it more difficult for them to act unnoticed by their colleagues.

Tia, on the other hand, was a known and long-accounted-for factor - with her reputation and track record even before the incident with the prince. And since the successful assassination, she'd been searched so intensely that my perception was blurred with alarms, traps, traps that pretended to be the traps, deceptions that were alarms, and combinations of all sorts. And I'm not talking about the constant attention of perfectly lively and intelligent individuals searching for Tia in real time.

Working in less close tandem, I might have missed some of it, and she might not have noticed. Now, acting as one, we could seriously hope, if not to fool the traps, at least not to fall into the prepared web.

The almost obvious deception, leading to the fake and most likely un-existent in reality report of the captain of the guards on the inspection of the battlefield, is not even squared, but cube deception. At least, because no one would let a mere captain within shooting range of a dwarf cannon inspect that massacre. But the whole point was for this image simply to be seen, recognized, and tried to discard.

The workpiece was created with an artifact of legendary grade, and after the trap was finished with files by several specialists. Tia sends a calm and measured image of the artifact, clearly familiar to her, even if not personally. The Event Multiplier doesn't just create fairly authentic images but also marks anyone interested in the image. As soon as I-we realized that we had witnessed a hoax, this hoax, figuratively speaking, turned into a kind of tag, an idea-fix, that tried to cling to our presence nearby.

Moreover, the structure lurking inside also carefully probed everyone caught for conformity with certain images. Needless to say, these images matched the Tialrianrelia imprint. In fact, the thing generated a search based on the dossier embedded in it. A great thing against a Seer who might try to find out what was going on in the camp of those who were looking for her. And such a blatant deception, on the contrary, would force, against her will, even, to pay attention to it, after which the legendary artifact would get to work.

I believe this creation of someone's sick mind has already scared the hell out of many interested people. The power invested in the artifact was phenomenal, and if you try to take cognition aside or hide your image behind a lie, it could burn your brain. Even Tia, with all her training, had a chance of falling into such a trap. I, too, had fallen into it.

However, I have enough trumps. Starting from six specially prepared and extremely detailed impressions, copied in advance from the collected reflections of several mid-town visionaries, and ending with the possibility to fill this artifact with many broken images, turning it into an unstable and inoperable weapon that beats even its masters. I wonder if I'll get a title for bringing an irrational artifact to insanity and such an obsession with purely informational evil bullshit.

A light touch, even a hint of it, performed by Tia, hinted at not drawing unnecessary attention, though I'd be happy to render the thing unusable. Not only do I not like it, but I can also get into trouble in the future when there will be no such prepared shelter as our mirror base. However, now is really not the right time and place, but afterward, I can go in alone without the need to cover my companion.

Now all that was left to do was to spend the decay... or to try the previously unused variant. Moreover, if this option does not work, I still have time to cheat this thing, and it is not only interesting to try but also necessary out of a desire to know the effectiveness of the new trick. A moment of silent communication, during which we have time to exchange opinions, points of view, and arguments, and then she readily takes my side, though not without a squeak - the elven essence is against any risk, but now the risk is recognized as necessary enough even for her. I have the feeling that she might have offered my option herself. I'll have to ask her more about that.

I relaxed, leaving the maintenance of my basic disguise and the filtering of garbage information in the care of the elves, and then I dove into myself, to the part of my already unstable self that had appeared after the memorable rescue of a vigilante and the killing of a mighty Hero by a portal. To what was now expressed by the new title that had taken its place in the list of accomplishments I had received.

The One Who Does Not Exist (legendary): Few can hide their existence from the invisible eye of the true Seers, capable of understanding another's fate as fully as ordinary people are unable to understand even themselves. But still, they exist, hiding in the shadows of past events and unfulfilled stories. But you do not. Or rather, you have the power to convince the world that you do not exist. It's a dangerous business because the world can believe it, just as your enemies believed it, for whom a blow from nowhere would be the last revelation in their lives. Bonus: It allows you to blur yourself completely or partially out of the picture of Reality, making you temporarily invulnerable to most clairvoyance techniques, even divine ones; there is great risk and strain in using this technique, which is worth considering when using it.

Normally, I would only be able to hide myself and set Tia up, but not only do I have the skill of un-existence, but I also have extremely advanced clairvoyance. Working with the two cornerstone skills of informational manipulation and partially involving the very basis of stealth that usually doesn't work with clairvoyance, I managed to make me and Tialrianrelia, which became part of my image, unlived for just a fraction of eternity.

This time it was both harder and easier than when I first used it. It was harder because there were two of us, and the elf was not wielding the skill of un-existence. On the other hand, I had already practiced erasing myself from reality alone, and I had some experience in diving together. I wanted to find a way to cover the whole group in case we were hit by the Divine Miracle again, only without the mirror cover.

I was not able to hide everyone at the same time, and I would not be able to approach such a task. But with a prepared partner who is also skilled in clairvoyance and knows exactly what I'm going to apply? This was easier. I take all the burden of two fates forgotten by the universe without even risking touching the elf who does not have my skills. There is a difference between risky experimentation and simple foolishness, condemning those around you to death.

The feeling was the same as it had been the last time - nothing, absolutely nothing. It was as if, for a second, I doubted for myself whether Konstantine even existed and whether he was imaginary in the first place. Tia was only held by the fact that our images were, in fact, shackled by our own will, and so I was able to make the world remember not only me but her, too. Also, neither she nor I would risk it again for the same reason - the need to remind the world.

It wasn't a full-fledged erasure the way I'd sneaked up on the late Hero, not even half. Because if I'd used it, I wouldn't have brought Tia back either. Or rather, I would, but not her, but my idea of her. What I see her as. And even though I had studied her enough to make her a whole person, she would not be the Tialrianrelia she was. It was the same as with the ring, only not as safe and much more painful. That's why I didn't finish the technique, cutting it off as soon as I managed to fool the artifact.

I hid only for a moment, letting his focus of attention drift past the piece of unreality we were aware of, where our images were located. It was enough for the scanner to pass us by, and then I immediately activated the trick and began to bring us slowly back to the real world, taking us out of the trance. It was a pity about the decoy, of course, for it was long and painful to make them, but it wasn't worth the risk of doing it again. I had to grimly admit that, for now, my new trick was strictly for me alone. Maybe I could unlock Tia's un-existence skill, which would give me a better chance, but until then, I shouldn't even poke such ideas with a stick.

I open my eyes, and with a sharp movement of my hand, I turn the mirror into a completely black glass. I have neither the time nor the desire to fiddle with its structure, making it safe for ordinary people unconnected to Dream. The elven woman is silent, breathing deeply and meditating. She probably testing herself for realness. Here she can be calm, of that I am sure. I have managed to cut the technique before a fatal moment, but I am uncomfortable with how close we have come to passing a very bad fortune. Well, not us, but her. I was close to her, and her oblivion, if it had come, would have been fully felt.

"I won't do that again." Calmly, she responded with surprising indifference, as for one who stood one step away from soul decay. "Despite all the possible advantages, it wasn't worth it."

"I don't mean to be a jerk, but you were very convincing when you wanted to test that trick on yourself." I was careful to guard against the unspoken accusation. "Even though you weren't going to test it now, you were interested in the idea."

"That's right." She nods, opening her green eyes a little shamelessly. "But I was counting on trying in a different environment... And I wasn't expecting such a setback, even though you took most of it for yourself. I really wanted to discover the full skill of un-existence, but it was too early for that."

Now it is finally clear why she agreed to take risks where she should have disagreed. I did not even hope for a positive answer, knowing that such experiments are better to be carried out not on myself but on prisoners or dolls treated through Dream. But she not only supported a rather irresponsible idea but also clung to it. It was, for this reason, I was not too worried about her - if there had been a real danger, such a cautious person would surely not have risked her priceless essence.

I wonder if this is her way of seeking death or if she wants so badly to learn how to lie in my presence. Not that I don't trust her after all I've already seen in her heart, but she may well wish to have her secrets and not want to show them, even if she doesn't think of betraying me. It is the natural reaction of any seeing to a stronger and more skillful one...

Or I just start to be stupid and look for a black cat in an empty room. Because she needs to be able to hide herself and others even more than I do myself - at least they can't find me through the available imprints.

"I'm sorry, too." Clairvoyance is an excellent substitute for a thousand words, so if you want, we could have a normal conversation without opening our mouths. "I got too carried away, and I wasn't used to having my colleagues around. My bad."

"I don't want to interrupt your cryptic exchange of not-very-clear phrases, but can you condescend to reveal what happened to your companions?" Losius intervened very conveniently, breaking the awkward silence between two personalities unaccustomed to apologizing for their stupidity. "I assume something serious has happened?"

It took about ten minutes to recount what had happened during our two-hour absence. The elf preferred to remain silent, but she successfully complemented my too-obscure expressions. Unlike me, she had managed to scribble a small forest of paper with reports of her visions, which I had to convey to people who were not visionaries. So where I was at a loss for the right phrase, she handled it easily enough. Experience in paperwork is experience, too, and it would be foolish to underestimate it.

Strange as it may seem, we still managed to accomplish the main task. We analyzed the state of the networks that covered the capital, configured to catch any useful information. They really collected a lot of it, but not about our company. Now, having studied, albeit superficially, the basic mechanisms of the traps waiting for us, we can work a little bolder.

Let's just rest a little. We didn't use much energy, but morally we were squeezed dry.

This time it's just me who uses the mirror, while Tia uses a ritual figure in the form of an irregular cone, all covered in archaic elven runes. I had to use some of my free reagents to create the paint she used to paint the runes. She gave me a strange look when she assessed the quality of the paint and the speed with which I could make a mixture that had a list of properties tailored to the ritual and the ritualist in question.

It's much easier for us to work now since we don't press each other with our classes. And even though she was much more uncomfortable, I was getting uncomfortable around her unnatural light, too. Here's another oddity, by the way! I'd watched the elves before, and I could feel the distant stars watching from their souls. But then it seemed just a part of their power, distant and not too prominent against the same elements or my Shadow. But after I've had to take a closer look at this glow, I'm not so calm anymore. The glow is so incomprehensible, so unlike anything I've ever seen before, that I reflexively turn on the Aegis only when I try to look deeper.

"Entry." This time, Tia takes the lead as the one who directs the vector of attention, while I, on the contrary, support and deepen her scanning.

This tactic allows her not only to hide behind me, figuratively speaking, cheating the traps and barriers set against her but also to act herself, hiding in the shadow of the deceptions I have created, supplementing what I have already missed. The distilled experience of the many centuries in which she has played these games cannot be underestimated, and it would be foolish not to try to learn. To her credit, she, too, learns and assimilates my methods, gaining as much from me as I do from her.

Here we see a fundamental difference in the way we both prefer to act. Not only in terms of clairvoyance but in general in any situation, whether in battle, preparing for it, or making plans. She, like any elf, acts from experience and knowledge that has been accumulated both by her and her many kin. This experience is so dense and distilled that it is easy to find answers to any question or task.

It would be a fatal mistake to think of her as predictable, acting in patterns. Yes, there are patterns, but they are so ramified, complex, and adaptable to any situation that one can only dream of surprising her. During her life, she has managed to forget so much, how many of her opponents in a hundred years can not learn. It is not that her actions are predetermined by a predetermined plan but by the perfection and resilience of that plan to any possible factors. For any enemy's response, she has five of her own. For any trick, she has ten ways to turn it against the trickster. For any unstoppable trump she has a hundred ways to neutralize it, reducing the damage to a minimum.

And I act in a completely different style. However, until this moment, when I compared myself and her, I was not even aware of this difference. Silly Kostya has no style at all. I was not trained in magical academies. I did not absorb the drills of instructors and the wisdom of mentors, ready to pass by dangerous to any novice deadly mistakes and pitfalls. Everything, everything I know, was honed in a deadly lottery, where there is no victory, only an opportunity to delay the end. I didn't memorize the combinations. I created them on the fly, applying them in the moment and sawing them with a file right on the run. I do not know the axioms and basics, encyclopedic knowledge, without which normal seers simply can not work. Kostenka is a living mockery of the carefully cherished doctrines and secret techniques of cultivators.

Adaptability versus Preparation.

The experience of antiquity versus instantaneous improvisation.

Complete denial of feelings versus equally complete control over them.

We could be interesting adversaries for each other, equally uncomfortable for each of us. But working in pairs, combining our strengths, and leveling out our weaknesses? The efficiency did not increase by an order of magnitude, but still very noticeably, and we were just getting used to each other, getting accustomed to the new territory.

"Illuminating the image." Tia was speaking, no longer visible because of the maddening glow of the runes of the ritual circle. "Translation. Reject. Redirect. Deceive. Again. Now divide. Next."

Every word is the tip of the iceberg when the main dialogue between us takes place in the information sphere when we have to exchange truth for truth with such frequency that I feel like a downloaded torrent file. Slowly and leisurely, we circumnavigate the net of the trappers, slowly beginning to gather the knowledge we need.

"Shit. Slow down." It's not easy for me to say either, especially with the need to conceal the use of Dream. "Substitute. Fix it. Yeah. I see. Just kick that garbage. Now here's the fun part."

Yesterday's trap, which is a legendary artifact, found its next victim. Still, a very insidious thing, of which it is enough just to be aware to call its attention to itself. Tia and I have to literally force ourselves to forget about it so we don't have to waste our pre-prepared deceptions. But without knowing in advance about the presence of such a trap, even knowing its method of operation and how it works, it will not be possible to pass by. As long as you perceive, any fragment of information, any vision, can be a trap trigger. I really want one of those things... or that my enemies don't have one.

The succession of images embedded within the Multiplier is too detailed and correct to be obtained through exploration or information gathering. The carefully concealed bitterness and pain in response to the question I did not ask answers better than any words. The clairvoyants of the Eternal Forest have shared a detailed impression of their former companion, turning an already dangerous trap into an almost unstoppable one.

However, even if the Multiplier is configured to search and track Tialrianrelia from the House of the Misty Tree, a branch of the Flower Blue, a blossom of the Eternal Beat, it also catches and records ordinary spies and others. And, if necessary, it burns out their brains with a directed pulse of madness, triggered at the direct command of the artifact's operators.

As I see it, this thing is somewhat subtly reminiscent of a drooling, naughty dog that lunges at every random passerby. If the passerby is a good guy, he will get away with nothing more than a fright and a slobbered face, that is, a completely scanned essence and a tag attached to it. If he's not a good guy, the dog will chew the head off. The main thing is that no one ever got hurt, and no one ever left a wound or paid with a bone to get away from a distracted dog. The main thing was that no one went away offended without revealing themselves in every possible way.

Tia said that the Multiplier is rarely used because, like the Shoreless Eye, it requires certain conditions for full use. Also, its charge is very limited and is renewed only with a single astronomical phenomenon, which happens once every twenty-one and a half years. For this period, the artifact can work in active mode for about a month and a half, so it can't be used on an everyday basis. However, this is a situation where one legendary, even if it's very strong, is too little. Seriously, though, we have to get rid of the Multiplier, or we'll never be able to work in the capital. I've made clairvoyance too reliable a tool for me to give it up completely.

That's why I chose this moment for my attack.

"Convergence." There is determination in the words and a trail of instructions. My will slowly and as painlessly as possible take over the initiative in our twosome.

"Risk?" No doubt, but an attempt to assess the degree of danger and to understand my plan, which is still unclear to her, even if I do not hide the chain of events and possible outcomes.

"Acceptable." A direct reference to the danger of the Multiplier to our anonymity and the obstacles it puts on any useful activity.

"Victims?" A request for an attitude toward the consequences of my plan concerning those who will find themselves in the midst of what she is sure will be a very dangerous event.

"Assholes." The answer means only and exclusively what is usually put into the said word, after which I can no longer speak, concentrating entirely on my actions.

Right now, the Multiplier has found a new prey, and the Visions controlling it are all crushing the prey, who is desperately trying to break contact and relying on the help of their circle. Normally, a deadly duel of such specialists would simply not take place. With the equal skill of the visionaries, they cannot inflict any serious damage on each other. You can cheat, frame, or outsmart them all you want, but you can't kill them. Of course, some classes are designed to find and eliminate other seers right through the trance, but we're talking about specialists who are roughly equal in their abilities.

The presence of a legendary artifact, very suitable for killing the curious, somewhat shifted the balance of power. The enemy of the Empire's visionary was good. Not at all weaker, and maybe even stronger than the main one in the imperial circle, but his support was not good enough. There were reinforcing rituals, potions consumed in advance of diving, and personal artifacts to protect or enhance concentration. But the Imperials had all the same, only with a strong legendary on top. All in all, the situation was not good for the one who decided to spy.

I saw an old, withered from age but retaining a nimble and sturdy body, a man wearing a huge turban that served as a good amplifier in its own right. I could feel his disciples, both young and already in their gray hair. I could smell the narcotic incense that was smoked in the ritual room of the Alishan Seer.

And I could easily discern the mighty barriers of pain and blood that the Alishans used to defend themselves against the Multiplier, trying to feed it the Darkness-chewed souls of their victims while saving their leader from the gaze of the Eye, which was clearly on him. The Imperials relied on the relatively neutral Astral, but their counterparts relied on the Darkness, much beloved by all blacksnatchers, which so easily enhances any magic if paid properly.

The Alishan elder would probably have been injured in some way, but he was still able to break free. He did not expect to see the Multiplier in action, but he was aware of its existence, just as he was aware of how it worked. With the support of his students, he would have gotten away with a scare and a couple of months of incapacitation. A couple of years at his worst. Well, the imperial team would have gotten some kind of bonus and a vacation, I guess. For incapacitating a hostile visionary.

That obviously didn't work for me, so I had to do what I'm good at. I had to do shit that was deadly to myself and everyone else around me.

Any image, thought, vision, or soul that enters the Dream can be distorted most unpredictably. For my class, one of the most important abilities was the ability to recognize the degree of distortion and the validity of the visions received. But this unpleasant weakness can be turned into a lethal weapon, ideal precisely against my fellow visionaries.

We reflect the image, distort it, and then distort the result once more. A mirrored corridor within which any fragments of events will be turned into concentrated madness. And I have accumulated enough such images to use them if necessary if I find a suitable target, which I won't feel sorry for.

I tear my gaze away from my mirror, pulling out the other, smaller one from behind my back. It was as if the mirror had been broken and then put back together again, as if it were a mosaic. Except for each piece, each piece of the formerly whole mirror shows a separate image. And if you look too deeply into it, that's where you'll stay. Even this thing scares me, even though I'm the one who created it!

The glow of the Stars becomes barely tolerable as Tia shields herself from my "grenade in the hands of a monkey." The building's defense is unpleasantly stretched but blocks the dramatically increased planar emanations. Dream is great at hiding, even if hiding requires a powerful ritual involving the energy of the Stars. After a few seconds, the elf's silhouette, barely visible behind the glow, signals readiness-she's covered against a possible rollback and ready to cover me in case I get set up.

I silently flip the broken mirror over the worker's mirror, spilling the shards straight into the looking-glass portal. All the other actions have already been done beforehand, so I don't even need to direct the blow - it will go where I need it to go. The imprints of the Multiplier, the Alishan bastard, and his imperial counterparts became the full-fledged beacons by which the blow was oriented. A blow that struck at the one thing that bound them all together - the Event Multiplier itself.

I understand how the artifact works, but I still can't stop wondering how it was created in the first place. After all, if you think about it, the Multiplier is based on a simple memory crystal, the basic trinket of any trained visionary, into which he stuffs his visions to parse them in detail afterward. It was me who had such classes from the generosity of the administration that I just didn't need such things after any kind of normal pumping. And when I first developed clairvoyance, I just didn't know it existed. I had a lot of time, though, before I learned how to use mirrors as various artifacts, amplifiers, or memory crystals, and I could have used one of those things.

Return to the subject of the Multiplier. It is based on a peculiar vessel in which the information matrix, imprints of the necessary events, is placed. And the artifact itself directly searches for any connections with the events put into it. Spice it up with a second foundation in the form of a special field, which connects the Multiplier and the soul of anyone aware of the existence of an image. The result is an almost perfect thing of its kind. It is possible to fight it off, just as it is possible to break contact, but not even Tia would be able to do it unnoticed. I mean, she wouldn't get caught, and she wouldn't even be able to put a mark on it, but the very fact, the image of her presence nearby would be enough to find the right clues and get to the elf herself. If necessary, through another supreme Wonder.

And then what I feared for myself. Within Eternity and its suburbs, the Eyes would easily send an assault group through a portal on a single tip from the seers. If it were far, far away, then it would be enough to break contact abruptly, destroy all traces of its presence, erase the images, and run away. Even if the Imperials had managed to open a portal, it would not have been quick, and the accuracy would have been far from perfect. Distances are great for saving against such things. But saboteurs inside city walls are always very uneasy. There are too many charms, barriers, and ready-made teleportation beacons.

However, I was distracted again, which is not surprising. There is no desire to look, to perceive the genie that I let out of the bottle. The attack, carefully concealed through un-existence, in my perception looking like a dozen mirrored arrows, shimmering in painful shades of the familiar violet haze, reached the image of the Multiplier and... No, it didn't fucking shatter him, though it could have, it just flowed into his vessel. For an infinitely brief moment, the substance digested the imprints put into the vessel, and then it boomed.

Less than a few seconds and the agony of the seers was over. Both the Alishan and the Imperial circles simply died in agony as their souls were torn to shreds by the rush of concentrated information. And the best part is that the Multiplier acted as a filter, picking out only the insane cacophony of images, but not a touch of the Dream. This means that the Imperials will regard this abomination as an Alishan trick, for madness and pain, is the favorite tools of the Darkness and those who use it. Alishan, for his part, will consider it a billet of the Imperials, but even if they don't, they certainly won't inform the Eyes of his conclusions.

And, most importantly, the ill-fated Event Multiplier is no longer a danger to me. But for the owners, it is very dangerous because the charge of abomination, which should have dissipated in the ever-changing Dream, was corked in the vessel of the artifact. And the artifact itself now broadcasts that abomination around, making it hard to even get close to it. And if they can still turn it off, especially if it is done by someone who is not too sensitive or someone who is not sorry, then the slightest attempt to use the legendary or at least clear it from my creation will lead to the fact this creation will turn out on the user. Something tells me until the end of the run cycle (that is, for another nine years), the Multiplier has fallen out of the Eternal Empire's trump card deck. And then it may take more than one recharge cycle to fully purge it.

And my paws are good! There, even the System generously gave me a new title!

Curser of Legends (Legendary): Among all the pathetic and ridiculous handicrafts of various artisans, there stand apart true masterpieces, equal and similar to those no one can find. Legendary artifacts are capable of many things that ordinary people can only dream of. A unique relic, a national treasure, a priceless treasure... for all but you. You didn't just manage to destroy a legendary artifact, no! You cursed it, making it dangerous to its owners for many years. However, even a cursed Legend remains a Legend. Bonus: +10 to perception trait; +10 to concentration trait.

A surprisingly good award, except for the poorly veiled insult to the poor treatment of relics. And, come to think of it, I can see why the award is so good. Yes, I didn't put too much effort into it. Perhaps this title is one of the most easily obtained in my collection. As dangerous as mirror madness was, this technique was still under my control. I had used far scarier tricks, with nightmarish consequences if I misfired.

On the other hand, would I have been able to get such a title on any of our artifacts if I had been crazy enough to try? Hell, no! I mean, if I really bother, use alchemy, or twist my class skills in a very specific way, then I can try. And then there's no guarantee that the result will be as devastating as it was with the Multiplier. I can destroy a legendary artifact by breaking it or dissolving it in a stream of energy of a hostile plane. I can ruin it by my attempts to influence it, but to turn a working artifact into a cursed one? No, I couldn't do that.

Here I just managed, or rather, "managed" to run into an artifact of a very special nature, which was so fortunate to fall under exactly the same special attack. The result was what it was, and it was really so unexpected that I feel like a nasty cheater. Well, there's no that feeling that the award is not just undeserved but not added at all! Did I get a freebie? A regular boon that doesn't threaten the integrity of my soul or my ass?

Something is coming.

Something very bad.

It will be necessary to check everything thoroughly thirty-three times.

We fell out of the trance in the literal sense, having had time to sift through the network of visions and notice several hundred more prepared traps, including even a set of legendary artifacts. Three, to be exact, plus a couple more that weren't quite right in nature. Fortunately, none of them were as insidious and obstructive as the Multiplier was.

The An'Wei Net, inherited by the Empire of Ages from a very old dungeon in the south of the Empire, was a name artifact created by some fucking mighty endowed many years ago. The thing was the perfect weapon against big conspiracies and other nonsense but did little to help find a loner or a small group. The idea of the Net was that it covered a certain area, where it sifted through all the visions, even the garbage ones.

Usually, even if the saboteurs had left some traces, imprints of events that managed to latch on to reality, they still had to be found. A huge amount of information, among which something specific could only be found by chance or by the enormous efforts of a coordinated group of visionaries. Not a single circle, no. A real circle of circles, a structure that only a few states in the world could create and maintain. Melareth, for example, even with the Eye in mind, could only dream of such a miracle.

Thank goodness for my paranoia, which forced me to hide any possible clues. In fact, not even a legendary artifact could find much of what I was hiding. On the other hand, the damn Net was working all over the place at once, which was out of my hands. Yes, I could see my way straight to the right conclusion without bothering to search directly, but it was still impressive. I definitely would have spent some time learning more about the Net, but a delicate hint from Tia forced me to spend my body's resources on the knowledge I really needed. I did, however, elicit from her what she knew about the Net.

By the way, it was a very strange thing to use. Only to search for Tia and an unknown Shadow adept, though there were many more search criteria to choose from, with practically no loss of efficiency. The same Multiplier, even with a much smaller "stock of active tags", searched for a whole bunch of images simultaneously, checking them and, if necessary, attacking the carriers. It felt like someone was very afraid that the Net would find someone or something other than us. Have they decided to play game of thrones here?

I would have thought that the Imperials simply did not want to overstress the artifact, but no. It works at maximum, burning through the resource, cooling down a bit, and accelerating again. I saw how this steel cobweb, which occupies the whole wall of the huge hall, gradually glowed red. Don't they care about her at all? Or do they want to break it, and then take cash acks on repairs? Oh, I don't like all this.

The Traitor's Word allowed them to hear all conversations on a certain topic within the city. However, it did not cover the vast Eternal completely, leaving out the outskirts and the suburbs. Alas, we did discuss the events of the day vigorously, but we did so within our temporary base. And from here, without my permission and will, not a single glare, not a single word, not a single picture would come out. Only prearranged and generated hoaxes. Exceptions are definitely not for ordinary legends, though that sounds like a lot of bragging. Ordinary, just listen to me - an ordinary legendary!

Purity of Thought was a way to check the degree of guilt of a particular person in a particular crime. It was now used to run everyone who was unreliable and suspicious through it, taking the opportunity to tighten the screws. Fortunately, you had to know the name and appearance of the person whose purity you were checking. And checking mere adventurers will be about never - there is a limited number of uses per year. The account is replenished every day, but they spend the charges much faster than the rollback.

All in all, despite the rather considerable number of artifacts familiar to Tia, the far greater problem was the few legendary visionaries working live and maintaining their circles. Maybe they would have added to the hassle for the two of us, forcing us to hide more and search less. But my sudden diversion seemed to scare the hell out of them and infuriate them just as much - almost all their eyes were fixed on Alishan, and they glared very unkindly.

I knew from the visions, and the rumors, that the conflict between the two mighty states was almost a foregone conclusion, but now I seemed to have accelerated it. I had also convinced everyone that the alliance between the Fall Executioner (that's a funny name, I'll have to quip about it) and the shadow masters of Alishan was the right one.

"They'd kill me if I tried to talk to them." Almost cheerfully, said Tia, extinguishing her ritual circle. "And I'd kill myself before I'd even think of such an alliance."

Yes, despite the veils of secrecy, we still managed to get a glimpse under the cover of the imperial investigation, largely thanks to the uproar that made the images boil, and several mirrors and smoothly polished marble slabs caught the right scenes in their reflections. Note: if I ever become head of the Secret Service, I will order the floor to be matte, black, and glare-free, not only in the special control areas but in general in all the buildings of the department. They knew something about mirrors, but they still weren't careful enough.

However, there was such a panic there that they could not keep silent, running from one office or ritual hall to another. And they weren't talking straightforwardly. They were talking in complicated clairvoyant ciphers. Only we both knew how to decipher them, and Tia was even faster than me, thanks to the same experience. She could really decipher them by the nuances of what was being said when I had to pull out the meaning of what was being said directly, ignoring the words themselves.

"Well, technically, that's much more likely than you meeting me." I defended the smartasses of the Eyes, gestured for Tia to leave the ritual circle, and then poured the glowing runes into the inky darkness of concentrated Shadow with searing pleasure. "Such a chthonic nastiness!"

Tia didn't argue with the need to clean up the ritual structure, realizing that she had taken too much and couldn't keep the scheme under control. Not all the time and with a hundred percent guarantee. And keeping an uninterrupted source of Starlight glow next to the working mirrors, which I controlled quite well, was a reckless thing to do. Though, she was clearly sorry for the reagents and compounds spent on this smear.

"Oh, don't talk to me about probabilities, I beg you." It seems that the realization of the success of the mission was a joyous enough event to bring some sense back into it. "After what happens to them in your presence, I wouldn't be too surprised if, by the end of the year, the whole town had fallen to the devils in Hell. And it is not for you, Tin, to speak of the strangeness of my powers. The light of the Stars is distant to all the endowed and the dispossessed, without exception; the star-born is but one step closer to them.

I was able to get the glow out of the shadow matter completely, and then I pulled it back in because the density and power of the eraser I used not only erased all traces of the ritual but also threatened to punch a hole in reality, opening a hole in the Shadow. And such an aggressive environment would be difficult to conceal, especially if its influence was being sought very diligently. The defenses might not hold.

"I wouldn't say one step, but many, many steps." I objected out of pure spite, absorbing the last echoes of the rustling shadows right into myself. "It's in all of you, but it hides itself better."

"I'm not going to argue." She admits I'm right, not wanting to continue the argument. "We owe a lot to the Stars, but we try not to spread the word about their true power. They are always with us, true, in all of us, but few risk stepping into their arms. Even among us."

"This is worthy of a separate conversation, but I get the hint." I accept the unspoken request for no further pressure. "If you want, you can tell me later, on occasion."

After the title and the successful information gathering, I was in a surprisingly complacent mood. There was absolutely no desire to extract from her the details of the planar connection between the Elves and the Stars. Rather, there was a desire for a good meal and a game of dice with the team.

"You can't get any more direct than that." She teased me with mild irony as she entered the living room. "But I'm grateful. It's not a terrible secret, but the subject is very unpleasant for any starry-eyed person."

"What are you talking about? You must be talking about boobs." Taria jumped out of the box like she was on duty when we got here. "Admit it, you told him about the technique, didn't you? Tin, just be human and not elf and tell me, too! I'm good!"

The next time I can't remember which one, Taria's ramblings about the secret elven techniques of undressing with her eyes make Tia stand as if she were standing still, take a few deep breaths, then turn to the girl and speak out in a less unemotional way than before:

"Taria, an ally of mine." That's the tone you use when you talk to naughty children who can't get their asses kicked. "I give you my word. I would back it up with my name if I had the right to do so. I would swear by the names of the higher beings if I did not wish to hide from their attention. My word is this: I know of no secret gaze-undressing techniques for Dancers and Illusionists. That doesn't mean they don't exist. It doesn't mean that I haven't seen them used by some of my former brothers and sisters. It just means that I really don't know the mechanics of such techniques, and I can't tell you anything. I ask you to believe in my sincerity, for my strength is running low, and I'm ready to get rude.

"Um... Taria clearly hadn't expected such an emotional reaction from the always calm and unwavering elf. "Okay, okay, gotcha. But since you've seen these techniques... Even though you said you didn't know them! Well, if you've seen them, then maybe you can give me a hint. I do not believe that you do not understand these techniques. I mean, you're gorgeous, you're powerful, and you're, what's it called, stellar! Can I ask a comrade of mine, Tia, for such a small favor?"

For a few seconds, I was sure that the elven liquidator was going to leak through the floor again, hiding from the annoying teammate, but her good mood was probably not my imagination or acting, but her real feelings. With a somewhat doomed sigh, showing that she was condescending and doing me a favor, Tia waved her hand in a very human gesture, almost exactly like my own gesture of humility.

"May it be as thou wilt." With her typical solemnity, she consents. "But please remember I can only give you basic hints on your path. And also, my name, shortened to a martial form, does not change the endings. I am Tia, ask - Tia, this thing belongs - Tia. Or just address me by my full name. I won't lie about being mortally offended by this distortion of my martial name, but since you demanded my knowledge, accept the request."

I shook my head as the shrieking Taria, who had already been convinced that my method of teleporting cowards was no good for her, dragged the poor captive elf back to her dark lair. Some people are very hard to understand, even if you've spent a lot of time with them and seemed to have studied them from cover to cover. I just hope she doesn't eat Tia...

Or she won't seduce.

I have no fucking idea how to get my new companion into bed without using mental correction, but Taria even got Hestia to have some fun. And without the slightest use of her main brainiac tool! I mean, in theory, I could simply express my desire for Tia to reciprocate her, and I'm sure the elf would silently and without question follow such a hint, but I'm not going to do that. And without such an order, such an outcome is unrealistic.

But it's fucking Taria, which makes me not a hundred percent sure of anything anymore.

And yet Tia accuses me of offending probability theory!

As I descended from the boring attic once more, I began to realize how hard it had been for the boys to wait for me when they were sitting on the farm before the assault on the Stone. At least I could pump clairvoyance, like Tia, or do alchemy, but there was nothing left for them to do but try to dispel their boredom. Sitting in four walls can be torture in itself.

In our last shared vision session, Tia had gotten a little worked up, covering us from some very cunning elf seer who knew her way around perfectly and was probably acting with the Empire's permission since she wasn't afraid of their signals and traps. I managed to pull her out of sight, and she managed to cover for me and herself as she also knew a once close colleague well. But she decided to skip the next session, either because she was really tired or because she didn't want to show her pain. That Seer was one of the few people she considered a friend.

Considered.

Now the elfess was discussing quite vividly with Losius the different schools of swordsmanship and the advantages of certain types of one-handed blades over others. She was a mage. And she was no stranger to close combat as any trained long-eared one. She may have only been a great master at daggers, bows, staffs, and spears, but she was a master swordsman as well. Plus, of course, the school and training allowed her to enlighten Losius, who was largely forced to follow my paradigm of the suicidal self-taught and develop on his own.

Hans listened to their argument, occasionally inserting a line or two as his considerable swordsmanship allowed. For him, though, the process of blade fighting itself was secondary. He preferred to end any fight quickly or retreat on the trail if he could not do so. But he commented clearly and to the point, being a full participant in the discussion.

Taria meditated silently, panting like a steamroller, literally. The haze was the result of unformed illusions, which she tried to make as transparent as possible, leaving them disembodied, but still capable of gaining partial density. This is such a strange way to master telekinesis through the use of illusions that I involuntarily thought of removing the tonsils through the ass.

Hestia was the only one idly reading a book she'd bought back in Tavimark. The memoirs of a very famous hunter of intangible creatures in the past. He described his adventures in great detail. At least in terms of the typical tricks of all sorts of abominations and ways to outplay these abominations, primarily tactically. There was also quite a bit written about the Mist spawn and how to scatter them to shreds. No wonder Hestia read it very carefully, made notes in the margins and bookmarked it. Where else could she find information about how to counteract such hunters?

My appearance did not go unnoticed, especially after I defiantly raised my hand.

"May I have your attention, please?" I start my speech a little pompously, but under the ironic glances of my comrades-in-arms, I quickly deflate. "Ahem. So. The level of suspicion of the guards and the Eyes has dropped enough that you can leave the house without fear of running into another Avatar. And if we sit around any longer, our tenant and the guild's bigwigs might get suspicious. Suspicion is not the same, but we do not need any suspicion. In short, I propose we lift the siege little by little."

"Unanimously!" Shouts Hans, without even listening to the others. "What? We're all dying for a walk in the sun. And the elf is serious as hell, so she knows not to break our cover for nothing. So it's unanimous."

"Just don't make another mess on a similar scale, Tin, because I can't stand being locked up for a few more weeks," Losius added, holding back a grin. "Because we all know you."

And they all nodded, confirming it! All of them, even Tialrianrelia, though I'm sure she wouldn't say a word! I'm the only one in this company who can get caught up in history. Stop harassing me!

"Oh, that's it!" I'm making the most murderous and indisputable argument of all. "I want to eat and drink. I suggest a tavern, some of the better ones. The end of all this madness and curfew is the perfect excuse to celebrate."

There were no objectors, and there was no point in their objecting. It's not like we're going to storm the palace; we're just going to eat, drink, and socialize. We may even be able to arrange a "casual" acquaintance with a new future teammate. We've already agreed that she'll pretend to be an ordinary druid below level twenty, which is the level at which Tia can use standard druid spells, rather than her creepy, horrible miscarriages of evolution.

We've already discussed this plan, so we shouldn't screw up. I'll be there, holding a bag of mirror splinters (which should be replenished), in case the search is suddenly resumed. I have to cover all my comrades in any case, and we really need rest. At least, because this whole circus with the forced house arrest began, in large part, because of me.

The main thing is not to cause anything accidentally, or it won't be funny anymore.

* * *