Matabar

Chapter 62 - 61 - Grudge

Ardi's instincts, drilled into him by Guta, reacted faster than he could even comprehend. Ignoring the blinding pain, he let go of his staff, hunched over to avoid the large, hairy fist swinging past above his head, then dove at his opponent's legs.

Slamming his shoulder into the man's stomach and pressing his neck against his torso, Ardan grasped the back of his foe's knees and yanked them toward himself while simultaneously shoving his own body forward.

Feeling his prey lose its balance and fall onto its back, flailing awkwardly at the air in a vain attempt to hold on to something, the hunter loosened his paws and leaped up, pressing his knees into his victim's chest. Clasping his paws together, he lifted them above his head, summoning all his strength to slam them directly into the prey's muzzle. Guta, just like Ergar, had always taught him to end a hunt or a fight as quickly as possible.

Wait... Guta? Ergar? Prey?

Ardi blinked.

There was no prey trembling before him. With a terrified look on his face, Baron Kerimov was lying pressed to the ground beneath his knees, his chest getting crushed.

Yes, that same baron from Iolai Agrov's entourage... He was broad-shouldered, hulking, and had a massive jaw. He rasped and tried to breathe, but Ardan's knees were pressed against his chest, preventing him from doing so.

Ardi, who was also rasping and pressing a hand against his burning chest (which made the pain flare up again), struggled to get back to his feet and, after picking up his staff, stepped aside. All around him stood frozen, shocked students. They were whispering to each other and pointing their fingers at Kerimov and Ardan.

It made him uneasy.

"Egobar..." The struggling baron began to say, his voice hoarse as he rose.

"What's happening here?!" Came a somewhat squeaky, yet still male voice.

It was a voice Ardi recognized. A scene from what was essentially his recent, and yet also seemingly distant past, surfaced in his memory:

A pompous man in a black suit paraded past him, strutting like the only rooster in a henhouse. He looked rather like a balloon — one of those children's toys parents bought for them at festivals. His thin legs somehow supported a bloated belly, which was barely contained by his pants and shirt, both of which were cinched tight by a wide, silk sash that had been wrapped several times around his middle. In his hands — which were softer than a child's — the man held a long cane with a crow-shaped tip, and he was leaning heavily on it, making Ardi worry that at any moment, the rings on his sausage-like fingers might snap, sending the enormous gemstones flying like bullets from a revolver.

This was the very same man who had succumbed to the Witch's Gaze when Ardan had been leaving the Palace of the Kings of the Past.

Dispersing the crowd as he went, the pompous mage struggled to walk on such thin legs that the mere fact they hadn't broken under the weight of his protruding, round, swollen belly was a miracle unto itself.

Unfortunately, the gentleman had replaced his cane with a staff, his expensive suit and cufflinks with a yellow academic robe, and his jewel-encrusted rings with the insignia of the Deputy Dean of the Military Faculty. Of course.

"What's going on, student Kerimov?" The Deputy Dean, Rafael Alirov, asked the disheveled baron in a gentle, even paternal tone. Ardan recalled the man's name thanks to Boris, who'd mentioned the dean and his deputies.

Rafael Alirov, who possessed five, three, four, and then three rays again judging by his epaulettes, seemed not to notice Ardan. And considering their history, he surely hadn't.

"Student Egobar attacked me, Deputy Dean," Kerimov grimaced, rubbing his bruised chest.

The man turned sharply to Ardan, who was stunned by such a blatant lie. For a moment, Rafael's small eyes turned into beads, then widened to a normal size by ordinary human standards.

"You!" He declared in outrage. "Yes... Yes..." And then his mouth twisted into a smug smirk. "Attacking another student of the Imperial Magical University is a very serious offense. Not to mention causing them grievous bodily harm."

Ardan looked at Kerimov. He looked quite alright, though his jacket and cloak were wrinkled.

"Kerimov!" Bellowed Rafael.

"Yes, Deputy Dean?"

"Are you seriously injured?"

"Me? No, it's nothing..." But, after noticing the furious, deadly gaze of the deputy dean, the baron immediately changed his stance. "Or, umm, I meant to say that I seem to have a fractured rib. Two. Or maybe even four. And a ruptured spleen. And perhaps my liver has been crushed. Both of them."

"A human body only has one liver," Ardan corrected him automatically.

"Silence!" Rafael squeaked at a volume that endangered the stained-glass windows. "Today, I will submit a report demanding your expulsion, student Egobar! You will no longer-"

"That's not true!" A voice rang out among the students. "Kerimov attacked Ard first!"

"Who?" Squeaked the deputy dean. "Who said that?! Step out of the crowd immediately!"

"I did," said a slender boy from the Faculty of Biology and Alchemy, pushing aside the other students. Ardi had helped him with tinctures and the properties of Ley plants once or twice.

Rafael seemed to even be licking his lips in anticipation.

"A false testimony? A conspiracy, is it? I-"

"It's not a false testimony," came another voice. And then a girl from the Faculty of Defensive Wards stepped forward out of the crowd. Ardi had helped her with some drawings and arrays. "I also saw Kerimov try to hit Ard. From behind."

"You-"

"And I saw it as well!" Another man cut in.

"And so did I."

"I saw it too!"

"Kerimov attacked first!"

"The baron is lying!"

"And you listened to him."

One by one, freshmen, and a few rare sophomores emerged from the crowd of students. All of them accused Kerimov of lying and insisted that Ardan was defending himself and nothing more.

"Silence!" Rafael slammed his staff against the floor. For a moment, a seal flared beneath his feet, and the hall was plunged into silence.

The students opened their mouths, gesticulating wildly, but not a single word escaped their lips. Soon, they realized what had happened and began anxiously clutching their throats and mouths.

"It's a simple Curse of Silence," Rafael gritted his teeth. "It will fade in ten minutes. And you, Kerimov and Egobar, will follow me to the Dean of the Military Faculty's office. I will hear both of you out there, after which I will make a decision. This is an order."

According to the regulations of the Grand, students were obliged to obey professors under the threat of immediate expulsion. It was quite logical when you considered the fact that essentially every student carried a weapon — a staff — and the means to use it with them. Moreover, they all underwent military training. Without a strict hierarchy, anything could happen.

Naturally, professors never abused their authority because the prestige of the Grand was at stake, and also because some of the students were nobles far more distinguished than their instructors.

But that was not the case with Lord Rafael. Dukes did not study at this university, and the Great Princes, of whom there were two in the Grand besides Iolai, were the exception to the rule.

Ardan found himself facing a rather ridiculous choice. He could refuse and be expelled immediately for disobedience. Or he could comply and get caught up in a web of bureaucracy and red tape that would stretch on for so long that the library would be forgotten by the end of it.

Ardi looked at his watch.

Time until midnight: 11 hours, 11 minutes.

"You're not running late anymore, student Egobar," Rafael hissed. "And you might not even get to stay at the university any longer than I need to-"

"Oh, Ard, I was looking for you," another familiar voice called out from the crowd.

With a lollipop in his mouth, acting almost like Din Erson, his stride casual even as he deliberately made his heels click loudly, Bazhen stepped forward.

This was the Jurisprudence student who had handled Ardan's enrollment documents. He was still painfully thin, but with some inner strength to him. That inner strength was so apparent that it made the scrawny Bazhen appear more powerful and taller than all the other students standing beside him.

"Deputy Dean," Bazhen bowed theatrically while making intricate gestures... with his lollipop.

Whispers spread through the crowd of students. In the relatively tight community of the Grand, peculiar rumors about Bazhen Eorsky were always circulating. They largely centered around his unrestrained hedonism, which had brought him to the brink of expulsion time and again, but which he'd always managed to wriggle out of thanks to his incredibly sharp mind, his quick tongue, and his impeccable knowledge of the law.

In short, people preferred not to tangle with Bazhen. Not because of the number of rays on his epaulettes —which were practically nonexistent — but because it just wasn't worth the risk.

"Eorsky," Rafael hissed.

"I'm glad you remembered my name," Bazhen exclaimed, waving his hands about. "Alas, I can't respond with genuine reciprocity, for which I offer my deepest apologies."

Rafael almost started frothing at the mouth due to his barely-contained rage.

"I can see that we have a misunderstanding here, Deputy Dean," Bazhen tossed the lollipop into his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest. "Mr. Egobar didn't clean his shoes and soiled the floor," Eorsky nodded toward... the perfectly clean, shiny floor. "As a result, Mr. Kerimov slipped and, in an attempt to preserve his honor and dignity, tried to grab his fellow student's reliable shoulder. Unfortunately, they fell together as a result, which may have looked like a fight to the surrounding observers. Have I assumed correctly, Deputy Dean?"

Rafael clenched his teeth so hard they nearly cracked.

"You-"

"But, of course," Bazhen interrupted him, lazily rolling the lollipop around in his mouth. "If I'm the only one who sees things that way, then it's a very serious matter. An attack meant to cause severe harm to a future military mage is the same as an assault on an active officer. That is a crime punishable by up to twenty years of hard labor. However, unfortunately, such cases are not within the jurisdiction of the teaching staff. The guards must be called in. Although..."

Bazhen pretended to ponder the matter, "I'm sorry, I was slightly mistaken there. Since both parties in this case are mages, a call to the Second Chancery and their investigators will be required. And an interrogation of all witnesses, of course. Let me just remind you that the witnesses will be held accountable if they provide a false testimony. On top of that, both sides of the conflict will also have to bear a lot of responsibility, from administrative fines of sixty exes to criminal charges for the unjustified wasting of the investigators' time. Not to mention the fact that if the attack did take place, we are back to the issue of hard labor. The only thing to figure out then is which side will end up being shackled to-"

"You talk too much, student Eorsky," Rafael, whose face was now an alarming shade of deep red, began to raise his staff again.

"Oh, I can see that you have used the Silence Curse on a group of students," Bazhen grinned, looking at the mute students at the same time. "Do you have the authorization from the Dean to use such measures? Although, I suppose you might've just gotten nervous and slipped up accidentally. Such an incident, of course, would not be worth the trouble of convening a faculty panel to assess your professional aptitude. After all, that's what article 22.4 of the Grand's Charter stipulates."

Rafael slowly lowered his staff back down, not even finishing the seal.

"I think we can all agree that Mr. Egobar should compensate you for the damage caused to the Grand's property," Bazhen sweetened the deal. "Say... by spending three days as an assistant worker in the Main Menagerie? Oh, wait, that's only allowed from the fourth year onwards... But, obviously, you wouldn't mind postponing his service, would you, Deputy Dean?"

"I wouldn't," Lord Alirov muttered.

"Wonderful," Bazhen clapped his hands together. "How wonderful it is that, thanks to the efforts of the Faculty of Jurisprudence, we've managed to resolve everything so quickly. And also, please return the students to normal."

Rafael quickly slammed his staff down, and after a seal briefly flashed under it, the ability to speak was restored to everyone around them, instantly manifesting itself in a wave of whispers and barely-contained giggles.

No one wanted to mess with Bazhen since he could twist any situation and law to his advantage, but everyone still enjoyed watching how he treated those unfortunate enough to have drawn his ire.

"Disperse," Rafael snorted, hastily moving toward the elevators. "No need to crowd around."

Kerimov didn't budge. He didn't take his worried and alarmed gaze away from Ardan.

Sleeping Spirits.

Milar had been right. Iolai Agrov's squad of toadies really did have a very small-

"I challenge you, Mr. Egobar, to a bloody duel," Kerimov announced. He didn't sound at all confident and was quite hesitant, in fact, but his words still had the same effect as the deputy dean's recently-cast curse, plunging the students into a chasm of silence.

But the baron himself was not worried about the duel or his opponent. He was concerned about something else. Or rather, someone else. Specifically, Iolai Agrov, whom Ardi had noticed was standing near the monument to the First Emperor, accompanied by his other lackeys. The Great Prince was watching the unfolding events with a disapproving look on his face.

"I refuse-"

"You better agree," Bazhen whispered in his ear, adding a few more words when he noticed the confusion on Ardan's face. "Kerimov is one of the strongest first-year duelists, isn't he? If you defeat him, you'll ensure a peaceful life for yourself, at least until the end of the year. Iolai will decide to prepare better before settling scores with you."

Bazhen's words had a lot of merit, but Ardi, plainly put, didn't want to engage in foolish acts like duels. Especially when there was no real reason for it.

"Fine," Ardan sighed in agreement.

Interestingly, the church has designated angels as the demons' antithesis, but their existence cannot be confirmed. However, the Sidhe's can. They existed until they disappeared after Sergeant Mendera's squad stole the Eternal Flame, may the Eternal Angels accept him.

Thus, our goal is to completely neutralize the Firstborn's protective field that shields them from the constant influence of Ley flows.

Why am I confident that this can be done?

I've heard legends from the captured Firstborn which claim that the most powerful Aean'Hane Fae possess the secret to making a suitable candidate one of their own. One of the Fae.

Also, some facts about the "Lady Talia incident" that happened on our border with the Enario Theocracy indicate that Talia didn't perish, but became part of the Fae tribe instead. Even so, I'm not sure that we can trust the traitors who became part of Sergeant Mendera's squad. I wouldn't rely on Bashag and Remi's diaries normally, but at the same time, they give me hope that my idea isn't doomed to fail from the start.

Thus, after that first batch of specimens and about 600 more samples, it took us another ten years to create, based on Lady Talia's seals that are responsible for summoning demons, a new structure capable of neutralizing the Firstborn's protective field.

It was a phenomenal success.

Independently, through our own efforts, with the aid of a colossal number of accumulators, we managed to create a tame demon. Unfortunately, it only lasted 31 seconds, but that was still a breakthrough.

The demise of the "Successful Demonization Sample Number 1" occurred due to a limitation in how much Ley energy the accumulators could transfer at once, which led me to consider whether it was possible to create some method of constant transmission of large amounts of Ley energy. I passed this idea on to the Guild. It's not my area of expertise.

So.

The success also made me ponder a somewhat related topic — where demons are summoned from and where the Fae actually disappeared to. One of my theories is that the Ley flows form a field that exists not in another dimension, but on another level beyond our perception.

We only perceive our surrounding reality within a limited range of dimensions. And perhaps the Ley isn't part of them. But for demons and the Fae, it is their natural habitat. And they can, under certain circumstances, pass through the veil separating us and exist on our level of reality as well.

This theory is supported by the fact that a demon cannot exist in our reality for longer than a few minutes, and the Fae cannot maintain their true form for any significantly long periods of time and are forced to spend most of their time in an intermediate or humanoid form.

Combining all of these theories and speculations made me consider the possibility that perhaps demonization could be applied not only to the Firstborn, but also to humans.

Just imagine what a stable demonized human would be capable of. And what if you demonized not an ordinary person, but a Star Mage?

There's no denying the fact that the capabilities of an experienced, strong Aean'Hane exceed the combined power of even ten Six-Star combat — or as they now prefer to be called, military — mages by several orders of magnitude.

But in practice, people, except for a few rare exceptions, cannot become Aean'Hane due to their short lifespans. Yes, attempts are being made to invent a seal that can prolong one's life, but any such invention would require constant support by accumulators, creating an energy depletion problem and never allowing humanity to create a viable number of human Aean'Hane.

But demonizing a Star Mage... Imagine a mage who could have constant, unlimited access to Ley energy. It would be a simply incredible amount of power.

Of course, this is all just a theory. Because the negative Ley field in humans is much more potent than in the Firstborn, far more energy would be required. Perhaps the needed amount would be impossible to procure.

On the other hand, if we assume that the negative Ley field becomes denser over time, then perhaps if we start experiments with younger test subjects, it might become possible to advance our research. But I'm sure no one would approve of that.

After all, children aged eight to thirteen would be needed. That way, they'd not be so young as to die from the process' side effects, but not so old as to have the willpower to resist the transitional states.

Maybe I'd settle on some children who are eleven years old. Just as an average value.

But that, of course, is a theoretical proposition.

At the moment, we know for certain that the possibility of demonizing the Firstborn is a reality.

I've also sent my seals and other findings to the Guild; maybe that'll help them work out the chimerization process.

As for my wife's experiments with Necromancy, they are still ongoing. Duke... continues to provide us with comprehensive support.

Below, I will present my theoretical proposals on how to approach the issue of human demonization."

Ardan closed the book and glanced at its spine.

"First Print. Year 376 F.o.E. Publisher: House of Magic. Number of copies: 25."

"Lisa?"

"Yes, I'm almost done," the girl closed the penultimate folder and placed it on top of the smallest of the four stacks.

"I wanted to ask you about something else," Ardan pointed to the book. "It says here that this print run had twenty-five copies. Are there twenty-five of them in the Grand?"

"That's classified information, Ard," Lisa shook her head sadly. "I can't answer that."

The young man glanced at his wrist.

Time until midnight: 4 hours, 2 minutes.

"You saw the seal and stamp on my pass."

"I did."

"Believe me, I could get permission to find out the number of volumes contained in this library, but I don't have the time," Ardan tried to speak as seriously and convincingly as possible. At the same time, he looked directly into the girl's eyes. "I really need to know. Tell me, Elizabeth, are there any more copies?"

By the Sleeping Spirits, he didn't want to do this. But time was running out.

The girl didn't give in immediately. Ardi could feel her mind resisting his efforts, but as soon as he pressed harder, leveraging all his willpower against hers, she relented.

Lisa's eyes glazed over.

"There are only eighteen copies in our library..."

Ardi, maintaining his hold over Lisa's mind, asked his next question:

"What happened to the publishing house?"

"The House of Magic publisher hasn't been in business for over a century," she spoke like a doll, without any traces of emotion or intonation. "All their books were either confiscated for use in special libraries, including ours, or destroyed."

Only one last question remained. The most important one.

"Has anyone else requested this book in recent times?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. You're the first in at least twenty-nine years."

Damn...

"You won't remember that this happened, Lisa... But you'll feel a little resentful toward me for... a few months."

Ardan looked away, and Lisa, groaning slightly, rubbed her temples.

"Oh, Ard," she said, blinking in confusion while her gaze slowly returned to normal. "My head is actually hurting a bit from sorting all these folders."

Ardi discreetly wiped the blood from his upper lip (his nose had bled) and tried not to show that he was about to collapse from exhaustion.

"You must be suffering from all that difficult reading," Lisa nodded at the unpleasant tomes. "But, you know, it's not like I care."

"I would honestly prefer to reread the handbook on formulas for high-load dynamic free arrays."

"Is that the one where each formula takes up a page?"

"Yes."

"You're a madman, Ard," Lisa wrinkled her nose slightly, then laughed and, rising from her seat, walked back to her workstation. "It's almost closing time, Ard. Your pass is single-use only. I'll report the materials you've asked for to my superiors. And the next time you come here, there will be no extra help from me. I'm not your personal assistant or your friend."

"I know. Thanks. And sorry."

"Have a good evening."

And she left.

Lisa was a pleasant person and a remarkable mage. But Ardan had broken her will and taken what he'd wanted by force.

He felt dirty. He wanted to clean himself. Purge himself. Run from what he had just done. But there was no time for that.

Ardi turned back to the stacks of folders. Or rather — the stack. He was only interested in the women's files. After all, who would an eleven-year-old boy trust enough to leave with them willingly? A sweet lady in a mage's cloak, of course. Girls, even at such a tender age, had enough intuition to sense that something was wrong in such a situation.

So, he was looking for a female mage. One who lived in Baliero. Why did he think this? Because the risk of being seen by acquaintances or someone else who could become a witness to her kidnapping boys had been too high. That was why she had never worked in the Baliero area, which, if not definitive proof, was still a clue as to where she lived. She also wasn't a professional. Otherwise, she would have shot him in the head.

Or maybe she'd planned to... but it would surely be quite inconvenient to aim for the head of a two-meter-tall half-breed if she wasn't very tall herself.

Yes, Ardi was now sure of it — a woman had shot at him.

So, it was a girl from Baliero, and a first-year student. Why was she only a freshman? Because Orvilov had been courting a freshman. Both Orvilov and this lady desired power. Orvilov had wanted it so he could silence those he called "friends," and she...

Ardan didn't know why. And he didn't care.

He rifled through folder after folder. File after file. Finally, he found the one he needed. The only suitable one.

Sleeping Spirits.

Could it truly be so simple, and was it really one of his own classmates?

Ardan grabbed her file and, feeling the Cloaks' medallion heating up in his pocket, he headed for the exit.

***

Milar, after listening to Ardan's explanation, snapped the folder shut and handed it to Alice, who was sitting in the back, sandwiched between Alexander and Din. She just shrugged.

"Sounds convincing enough to check the address. But why do I have to go with you lot?"

"You'll wait in the car while we verify the trainee's hunch," Milar turned the ignition. "If he's right, you'll collect evidence and... whatever else you need to collect."

"Understood," Alice nodded.

The car's engine rumbled.

"So, my dear operatives, how do you like the idea of conducting a raid on a demonologist's lair without any backup, and in the company of a single wounded mage-in-training?"

Alexander spun his revolvers' barrels, checking the smoothness of the rotation. Din flicked his knives, sending a few sparks flying.

"Then let's go," the captain exhaled a puff of smoke. "We'll beat some demon ass and earn some bonus exes."

Time until midnight: 3 hours, 17 minutes.