The chief of the guard's house was large and opulent. A colonnade fronted the main entrance. A substantial staff of servants...
While Elmair studied him from the Astral Plane for magical traps, I stood nearby, protecting her limp body. Of course, I could have done the opposite, but it's one thing to dive into the Astral Plane in the forest and another in the city. Besides, while I'm in the Astral Plane, my body will be extremely vulnerable. And it's quite possible that there will be nowhere to return to. On top of all this, I have to consider how many enemies I, the last of the Autvii, have.
We were standing in the nearest alleyway to our target's house. Elmayr had entered the Astral Plane, sitting upright in her horse's saddle. Just in case, I held her limp body steady by the shoulder with my left hand.
The half-breeds patiently waited for the result nearby.
The dark elf watched my actions with interest. She's funny. It's called this: I got myself a little dragon. It's still small, but already vicious. And yes, did I mention it's black? A little time will pass, and this little beast will grow into a terrifying monster. Just like in the legends.
Although, if you think about it, what is happening is already so unusual that it would have found a mention in elven history even without this.
Suddenly I noticed how both gatekeepers walking along the gate fell to the ground at once.
After ten heartbeats, Elmayr opened her eyes and said:
"There wasn't much protection there. I destroyed what was there and examined almost the entire house, memorizing the layout. I also put the servants and guards into a 'mind sleep.'"
I looked at Esvi, who was waiting patiently nearby:
"It's time to begin. Take two. The rest, keep an eye on the surrounding area. If anything happens, don't react. Just watch. And only if someone breaks out of the house, shoot them. Try not to aim for the most lethal points on the body. But in any case, don't shoot at the head. Elmair and I can heal any wound, but with wounds like that, memory loss is possible, and that's exactly what we came here for."
After waiting for a nod, I jumped off my horse and, hiding in the shadows, ran to the gate, behind which two guards in light armor were lying on the ground.
On the way, I quickly glanced back and saw how several half-breeds threw 'cats' onto the roof of a tall five-story building and immediately began to climb up.
There were almost no passers-by at this late hour: only at the end of the street did a large detachment of guards, reinforced by soldiers, appear for a few seconds.
Having softly jumped over the gate, I, waiting for the others, looked at the guard lying limply at my feet.
It's gratifying that, over the centuries, Elmair hasn't lost a certain leniency toward random victims. For example, I, like a significantly larger number of veterans, would have killed everyone involved in that house without hesitation, including the servants and even random passersby.
Nearby, having jumped over the fence, both elves and three half-breeds landed softly.
Elmayr motioned for us to follow her, and we crouched down and silently ran around the house, ending up at the back entrance.
The door was locked. Elmayr placed her palm on the lock. I felt a slight magical disturbance, and then the door swung open with a crash.
Once inside, the elf led us down a corridor lined with doors, then up a staircase to the second floor. Along the way, we came across the sleeping body of a gray-haired man dressed in pajamas lying on the floor. Near the large double doors, Elmayr stopped and whispered softly:
- He's sleeping here. I didn't put him into the 'sleep of reason'. He was already asleep.
I listened closely and indeed heard snoring.
Turning the handle, I open the door.
The bedroom had a high ceiling and was quite richly furnished. It was almost completely dark, the only light coming from a narrow gap between the curtains, through which filtered the pale glow of the magical street lamps.
Elmayr and I approached the wide bed from both sides.
A stocky, middle-aged man lay on his back, his arms draped over the thick blanket.
"Get him off..." I said quietly.
The man's sleep turned out to be light and he woke up and opened his eyes.
The next second, the dark elf grabbed him by the right leg, and one of the half-breeds by the left.
"Help! Help! Alarm!" he screamed, but he was already being dragged and thrown off the bed onto the plush carpet.
I interrupted his screams with a light punch to his jaw and said:
- No one will help you anymore...
He looked back and exhaled:
- Half-bloods?
Having said this, he fell suspiciously silent.
- On his knees... - I sharply throw out the order.
The half-breeds lifted the man up and knocked down his legs, fulfilling my order.
I grabbed his face and, paralyzing the muscles of his jaw, opened his mouth.
As I suspected, one of his teeth wasn't his own and was already loose. Clearly, the man had already begun to bite it. Ignoring his feeble attempts to stop me, I pulled it out and, stepping back, crushed it with interest. Inside was a yellowish powder. Something unfamiliar...
Elmayr glanced at him and said:
"Viper's Kiss." A fast-acting nerve agent..." She pulled a small vial of something powdery from the inside pocket of her cloak and said to the half-breeds holding the man glaring at us: "Hold him tightly and try not to breathe in that dust."
The elf opened the vial and tipped some of its contents into the palm of her glove. Raising her hand to the twitching man's face, she blew the dust right into his. He held his breath and shook his head, but Elmayr quickly punched him in the stomach, forcing him to take a sharp breath. Immediately after, he began coughing violently and slumped limply in the half-breeds' arms.
Snorting contentedly, Elmayr put the flask back and pulled a smaller bottle from her pocket. This one, however, contained a clear brown liquid. Uncorking it, the elf poured its contents into the man's mouth.
"In principle, we can begin the interrogation now," she said. "The Barren Flower acts almost instantly and will last for about an hour. If anything happens, I'll renew its effect. The second potion is a decoction of Blackfire in alcohol. It should promote talkativeness and truthfulness. If the effect is weak, I'll give him Tarnville Juice..." She glanced at me sideways and finished: "...And you should know what this nasty stuff is."
I nod gloomily:
"Yes... I remember." I stepped closer to the man and squatted down in front of him. I noticed that Esvi had pulled a narrow wooden case out of his pocket. When he opened it, I saw an elongated, transparent crystal the size of a palm inside. I asked him: "What is this?"
"It's called 'Tear of Memory.' It can record everything that happens around it over a period of time, and then play it back over and over again," he replied.
I looked at the crystal that glowed in his hands and turned to the man:
- Name and position?
Looking at the floor, he hoarsely answered:
- Aritan Lufri, Chief of the Guard of Izrin.
- Who do you contact from the Guild?
- With Taron Xensky.
- How?
- A magical talisman of communication...
- Where is he?
- On the table... - the man jerked.
I walked up to the table and, moving my index finger over the trinkets and jewelry laid out on it, took a small medallion by its chain.
- Is this him?
- Yes...
"Elmayr, continue the interrogation..." I say out loud, and begin to examine the loot, simultaneously listening to the information that the head of the guard was pouring out.
Incidentally, he knew very little about the Guild. In fact, this Arithan Lufri turned out to be a common bribe-taker, firmly on the hook of a man he called Taron Xensky.
Blackmail and money. A surefire recruiting tool. When Elmayr asked him what they were holding him for, he revealed this...
It turns out the chief of the guard was a serial killer and the Guild had signed on to supply him with victims in exchange for loyalty.
Even I felt disgusted and said to Elmayr:
- Convince him to write a farewell note, and then shove the fragments of his own tooth into his mouth and kill him.
She nodded.
The half-breeds turned on the light and the guard commander wrote a few lines on a piece of paper. He seemed tired, felt guilty for the loss of innocent lives, and so on.
After that, Elmayr stopped his heart with a precise magical pulse. We stood over his body for another minute (there was once a case where a victim came back to life after such a magical impact, and it's a good thing I was the last one to leave and didn't mind checking out the suspicious sound...)
We left the same way we came in. Even the pajama-clad man snoring in the hallway was dragged into his room and thrown onto the bed.
Of course, this is all far-fetched. If a good investigator takes on this case, they'll uncover countless oddities that only a slowpoke could piece together.
But I hope the smart ones will be told it was all Zarzan's doing, and the fools will be told it was suicide. And if anyone does decide to dig, they'll be allowed to see the truth.
Having run across the street, we stopped.
"What next?" the half-breed asked me.
I lifted the communication amulet from my palm by the chain to eye level and looked at it.
- Let's go to the next point...
Communication amulets are always created in pairs. One amulet can only connect with one other amulet created with it. They are always linked by a very thin thread of mana, visible only to the Astral. Through this thread, thoughts can be transmitted to the other person.
The system is very simple, and therein lies its advantages and disadvantages. I'll note right away that the disadvantages slightly outweigh the advantages. The most obvious disadvantage is that if you maintain connections with several individuals, you'll have as many amulets as you have those connections. At times, certain sentient beings had as many as a thousand amulets, and to keep track of which amulet was ringing for whom, they had to create something akin to a library, only instead of books, they had cases containing amulets with names inscribed on them.
There was another drawback I was about to take advantage of.
The thing was, these threads could be used to track the recipient in the Astral Plane. Tracking someone was one thing, but you could even send a spell along the thread. Admittedly, not a very powerful one—the thread had a low bandwidth. However, sending lightning or a moderately powerful fireball was easy. During the Twilight War, it got to the point where important people (myself included) didn't wear such amulets at all, instead employing assistants or adjutants for that purpose.
Of course, countermeasures were developed. For example, one of the Masters constantly lingered there, in the very depths of the Astral, usually easily intercepting single attacks. However, the dark ones also changed tactics and sometimes sent hundreds of spells, lining up into veritable trails of multicolored discharges, swiftly coursing along the threads toward the target.
Fortunately, among the dark elves in the Astral, few could operate at our level, and such attacks were very rare.
I'm not going to send a spell down the thread. I don't need a silent corpse or just a fire in someone's estate. Although... That's an idea. A fire. Hm. But in any case, that will come a little later.
Right now, I need to find the addressee named 'Taron Ksensky,' interrogate him, and find out who and where. Well, maybe also sources of funding and the locations of bases and hiding places...
*****
Eloril sat on a park bench across the street from the entrance to his inn. He was already fully armed and dressed in the ornate yet functional combat attire of an archer-mage.
At the moment, he was collecting jagged arrows with a grim sense of doom.
There were no other elves visible on the streets at this hour of the night. A patrol of guards and soldiers moved down the street. At the sight of the armed elf, the people merely glanced at him with interest and moved on. Eloril himself paid them virtually no attention, tossing another arrow into his nearly full quiver sitting on a bench.
His niece came out of the hotel and headed towards her uncle.
In her hands she held a metal magical staff with a large, slightly glowing blue stone clutched in the top like claws.
"I've relayed the news to the House," she said, looking appraisingly after the patrol.
Eloril looked up at her.
- Still nothing from Ivinal?
"They promised to find her. Our House was put on alert and put on full mobilization."
The elf sighed and nodded thoughtfully:
- His demons know what's going on. And my soul is so unsettled...
Suddenly, three elves ran out of the gateway and ran towards them.
As they approached, Eloril relievedly unstrung an arrow and sat back down on the bench. Eidael, meanwhile, stopped pouring blue Water mana vapor from her left hand onto the crystal and, sighing, began making passes over it with her hand, muttering something under her breath like, "...I wish I could smash them against the wall."
This trio turned out to be his recent guests from the House of Reta.
As they drew closer, Eloril said darkly:
- What else happened?
Viniel, having caught his breath a little, exhaled:
"We ran into a full star of the Vieren Masters in the middle of the street! Oh, damned demons of Kheres! I saw the White Blade on one of them's collar!" He glanced at his companions. "Rivule, Uril! What are you standing there for? Report to the House..."
They nodded and ran further down the street.
"It can't be..." Eloril jumped up from the bench and cried out: "But he was imprisoned! The Council put pressure on Eriran..." His voice broke: "It can't be that the Prince decided to kill the Prince... And he already sent for this..." His gaze darted around the surrounding objects: "But if you think about it, it's all logical - Cassiel will succeed. After all, he..."
Viniel looked at his gloved hands:
"Yes... But do you know what I just thought? I don't want to bow to Eriran when he takes the Throne. I'd rather die. And if I'm going to die, then like this. Next to Autvii." He clenched his fingers into fists. The finely tanned leather creaked. Viniel looked up: "And you—will you bow to Eriran?"
Elorir unexpectedly gritted his teeth and hissed:
"No! Better death! And let the spawn of the Forces devour me guts and guts, just as it devoured Rnieth two thousand years ago. I am ready to see my ancestors! I will not be ashamed before them..." He turned his head to his niece: "Eldael, leave, flee the city. Tell our Prince that Eriran will be able to bow only my lifeless body, but not my spirit."
But she only expressively lowered the corners of her mouth in a contemptuous grimace:
"No, Uncle. If we die, it won't be from shame before the throne, and if it comes down to it, then dying for Autwy is the dream of every member of House de Voor." She looked at Viniel, then at her uncle. "Don't leave without me: I'll talk to my father and mother now. I'm sure they'll understand. You're right, Uncle: dying for Autwy is our duty."
She turned away and ran into the hotel.
Viniel looked after her and raised his left eyebrow expressively:
- Isn't she too much like you?
Eloril snorted indignantly in response:
"Why do you think I ran away from the House? My brother loves me, of course, but he might even put me on a blade for something like this..." He glanced sideways at his interlocutor, whose eyes bulged eloquently: "Just kidding..." The elf began to gather up the things he had laid out and quietly whispered to himself: "Although I'm not in the mood for jokes."
*****
As it turned out, the name 'Taron Ksensky' was hiding the lawyer of the chairman of the Trade Guild of Istra.
This was already interesting. I wondered: had these two organizations merged into one?
Therefore, realizing that the Astral Thread was leading to a large house separated from the street by a small garden, I decided to fully deploy the squad of half-breeds assigned to me.
First, Elmayr breached the magical wards and alarms, then tranquilized the outer guards. Once that was done, she gave me the signal to begin the operation.
The inner guard consisted of a dozen mercenaries. Fortunately, there were no serious mages among them. A couple of gifted ones didn't count. They didn't even understand why they lost consciousness...
The thin man ('Taron Xensky' isn't his real name. He was actually born Edwin Tarlow. Incidentally, the slight overlap between his surname and the assumed name he used with the guard chief was no coincidence) continued chattering incessantly, spilling his own and other people's dirty secrets to us. The smile on his face made Esvi's hand, holding the memory crystal, tremble with barely contained rage. Finally, the half-breed muttered through clenched teeth:
"Tie them all up and mount them. I can't listen to all this alone. Let's take them to the Baron. Let him hear these words in person, too. And in the morning, we'll arrest them all and, without further ado, send them to the chopping block. Oh, by the Light-Bright Gods... Who can you trust after this?!" he finished, almost shouting the last sentence in his anger.
I chuckled almost indifferently. So, he found out that a number of officers and nobles had been bribed or intimidated. So what's the big deal? We knew the approximate extent of the Guild's infiltration, didn't we? We did.
Incidentally, it turned out that the previous baron hadn't just choked on wine, but had been assisted by his own guards. Furthermore, his missing, beautiful daughter was sent to an underground brothel, where she died a week later from repeated rape.
The Guild wanted to eliminate Tur as well, but he didn't come alone, but with other veterans of the war against Necrotix. Furthermore, he was a skilled and cautious warrior, but after his run-in with the Guild, he became extremely protective of his own safety and organized the Half-Breeds, with whom the Guild hadn't been able to establish a good relationship.
Although, of course, learning that the garrison commander, Sir Rien, is also a Guild member and even a member of its Council is obviously quite difficult. He's been implicated in a lot of things.
And we'll have to react somehow. Otherwise...
Hmm. A few more corpses overnight? Suicides, accidents, illnesses...
We'll run around, of course, but at least it will be calmer in the morning.
And for the rest, for whom the night isn't long enough... I'll offer the baron a couple of old executions. Oh, it's not just a shortening of the head. Magic can do a lot... Especially the Force.
While I was reminiscing about these "sweet" memories, the half-breeds bound and gagged the man and carried him out into the street. They also dragged the limp body of the fat chairman of the Commerce Guild, who also lived in the building and, as it turned out, was his attorney's subordinate, acting as a lightning rod.
I slowly stepped outside and took a deep breath of the cool night air. Summer was ending. Autumn would soon begin...
Suddenly, I felt a sense of threat. A group of five light elves appeared on the edge of my senses. Four were clearly Magisters. But the fifth...
A very, very familiar feeling. I recognized it immediately.
Yes, the passing millennia have strengthened and changed you even more than they have me. You have changed, but I would recognize you even in a million years. Simply because you are special. Simply because...
"Did something happen?" Elmayr asked quietly.
I smiled wryly:
- Yes. - I turn to the half-breeds and say to Esvi: - Go to the baron without me. I'll be a little late here. Hurry! - I look at Elmayr and Atel: - You go too.
The half-breeds headed towards the exit.
"I'll stay with you," said the fair one, stubbornly clenching her jaw.
"You can't handle it. You'll only get in the way," I whispered. "Although, you could try to distract his support."
"Whose?" asked Atel.
I got my bearings by my senses and turned to face the rapidly approaching five mages. I quickly said:
"Apparently, word has spread in the Great Forest of my return, and Prince Vieren has sent assassins after my head. Or rather, an assassin... The other four will simply cover for him and try to restrain his impulses. Atel, are you with me or running away?"
"I don't even know," the dark one narrowed her eyes and shrugged. "Okay, I'm with you, princess. I have nowhere to run anyway."
I snorted:
- Then listen: you don't participate directly in what happens here. You hide in some crevice and don't stick your head out.
She jumped up indignantly:
- But I...
"Quiet!" I snapped at her. "You have no business interfering in the Magisters' fight! You'll have your own task: summon a demon, a hound, any soul-devouring creature. Elmair and I will be vitally important that none of them even set foot in the Astral... Or at least get caught up in the fight on the Astral Plane. Once the creature you summoned is dispatched, you summon another one immediately. And in general, try to saturate the Astral with them. A Magister can certainly handle one creature. But with two or three, he has a good chance of being devoured..."
Nodding, Atel ran through the garden. I hoped she'd run right through it and try to hide in the gateway, rather than sit under the fence...
Elmayr asked me tensely:
- Where are they?
- Already close... Here... - I nodded towards the figures in cloaks who had jumped over the slope of the tiled roof of one of the buildings and stopped at its edge.
I braced myself and suddenly realized that instead of five elves I saw only four.
Where is it? Why can't I feel it? Ah-ah-ah, well yes... It needs to be done differently. It doesn't feel like that at all... It can change its structure.
What's this new response? It's him! He's already standing around the corner of the mansion.
I turned my head in that direction and said:
- Come out of the shadows, Cassiel.
A lone cloaked figure emerged from around the corner. The loose hood fell almost to his chin, obscuring most of his face. But I wasn't hopeful—I knew full well he could sense every movement within a wide radius. It was one of his many abilities. Incidentally, recalling some of them, I mentally prepared myself for a very serious fight.
"So you sensed me after all? Although... The Creator always senses his creation. Yes, Iltariel?" the elf asked.
His voice had changed over the millennia and become incredible. It was as if two creatures were speaking in perfect sync—one with a melodic, restrained voice, the other low and growling with impatience.
But that's how it was. Two beings lived in his body.
"What are you doing here?" I ask him.
He chuckled expressively:
- I came to kill you. Last night I had to follow your trail through this city.
"I didn't think you'd come for my life," I whispered, making the signs 'watch my back' and 'don't interfere' with the fingers of my left hand at Elmayr. She obediently began to back away.
Cassiel, continuing the conversation, laughed, but I heard an impatient growl in his voice:
"Who else could Prince Vieren have sent for you?" He began to slowly walk sideways, moving further and further away from the mansion. Abruptly cutting off his laughter, Cassiel said, "You can't imagine what it's like... to sit in a cage for two thousand years. And hope. Waiting for the center of Death, Atesh... to bring you back... Twitching at every sound, waiting for the jailers to bring you word..."
"A cage?" I asked him again, squinting my eyes in disbelief.
His lips curved into a predatory smile, and his voice deepened.
"Prince Vieren deceived me. You... all deceived me. You promised..." His smile turned crooked. "...'chosenness'... power... glory. And we received only curses and hatred. I swore I would kill you. And if Atesh brings you back, I will send you back each time to her Kingdom of Screaming... Crying... and Suffering."
I sighed heavily and lowered my head:
- In any case, it was your decision. I remember very well how the Prince brought me a little white dragon. And it's not like he didn't know about the negative sides of werewolves. I've already seen what happens to elves when we mix them with special creatures. Not only that, but my mother and I were involved in the project from the very beginning. I told him what I thought of his idea. But he demanded to begin anyway. - I pointed my finger at him and also began to move away from the mansion further into the garden: - And you?!.. Who was it with me that hunted werewolves with the second form of cats in the jungle? You knew perfectly well about the danger of tigers, snow leopards, and those creatures from the Wasteland! And, nevertheless, you stood next to the Prince and insisted on your candidacy! - I shake my head slightly, not letting him out of sight: - Don't blame me - it was entirely your decision. I remember your words. How you kept saying then: 'Let's try!' and 'We should have taken not adult predators, but those that had just been born...'
Then I heard the gnashing of fangs, not teeth. I thought he was about to attack, but Cassiel spoke in a low voice:
- You don't understand. You always didn't understand! You were Autwy! I felt inferior next to you... stupid... pathetic... - here he almost shouted hoarsely: - A cripple! - and continued bitterly: - A magically untalented heir of the Prince, whose name is not even worth remembering in itself! Known only as a friend of the Great Blood Prince! A pathetic shadow, unworthy of even a glance... I was perceived not as an equal, not as a person, but merely as a breeding bull, whose son would rule House Vieren... Do you really not understand? Father wanted to marry me off as soon as possible to some gifted mage. And he didn't even intend to appoint me his heir... - he almost growled: - If he died, my wife would rule the House! - With his last words, Cassiel raised his hands and looked at his crooked fingers. I saw how they began to stretch and curl into the sharpest claws.
My heart was heavy. I never thought things were so bad. He was always so cheerful. I can't imagine what it took for him to always smile...
- I didn't know. I didn't think about it. I had a backpack full of my own worries. My mother put a lot on me. And during the Twilight, I was the jack of all trades. Forgive me.
"I don't care if you forgive me!" he roared and stopped. I heard the sound of tearing fabric. Grabbing the cloak with a clawed paw, he tore it off and threw it aside.
Beneath the fabric was a rapidly expanding and shifting patch of scaly flesh. In theory, they could have tried to attack now, but during the transformation, werewolves' regeneration is particularly strong, making it almost pointless to hack at them with a sword or attempt to hit them with a spell. Especially him.
A couple of seconds and a large white dragon stood in front of me on all fours.
He stood fifteen meters at the shoulder, and when he raised his head on his long neck, he was clearly over thirty meters tall. His large, snow-white scales seemed to even glow faintly in the night. His eyes glowed brightly with a white light. His short, broad muzzle was adorned with a cluster of tightly closed fangs. The back of his head was adorned with a crown of upward-curving horns.
The dragon spread and folded its wings, blowing off part of the mansion's roof. Chunks of heavy tiles rained down to the ground. A gust of wind blew a cloud of dust in my direction.
The monster glanced contemptuously at the building and boomed loudly, looking down at me:
"It was the only way to be equal to you! Not to live in your and my father's shadow! And when that worthless wretch named Rniet started telling me I was, you see, untalented, I tore him apart and devoured him without hesitation. I showed him and the others how pathetic and helpless they were before me! With all their magic!"
Holy shit... Two thousand years is quite a long time for a dragon. That's when they reach the full extent of their power. After that, their growth slows somewhat. Although there are reports that black dragons can grow to truly enormous sizes. For example, there are rumors of an ancient black dragon living in the far east... They say it's the size of a mountain...
I focused on the present and took a quick glance at the four Masters standing on the roof, almost motionless, saying:
"It's noticeable how much you've caught up with me. You didn't even come alone to kill me. Are you afraid?"
The dragon laughed loudly:
"Me? I'm not afraid of anything! And I especially don't care about Atesh and her ilk! And those..." He turned his head slightly to the left and glanced at the mages standing on the roof. "I promised them that if they interfered, I would devour them right after. But really, their only job is to witness your death..." He finished with venomous hatred. "... Or how Atesh will take you again..."
I sighed:
- I didn't think it would end like this. So, one on one? Me and you?
The dragon snorted expressively:
- Well, I don't really care...
The next second he raised his head higher and took a loud breath of air.
Knowing what would follow, I turned to the 'black techniques' and began to carry out a direct transformation, covering my flesh with a layer of magical wood.
A second later, the dragon descended and breathed a thick, powerful stream of bright white flame at me. In defense, I raised my right hand in front of me and poured wood from my palm, creating a circular, two-meter-wide shield in front of me. The flames shattered against it and smashed in all directions.
But this was no ordinary fire.
I don't know where the Prince got the white dragon. They're extremely rare in our world.
In general, dragons are magical creatures and may not eat any material food at all. Their diet consists almost entirely of the free mana of the world, which they absorb with their entire bodies.
However, it sometimes happens that worlds contain concentrations of pure mana from certain Forces or Elements. The dragon naturally occupies this territory and jealously guards it. Here it breeds, here it lives, and here it reigns. Under the influence of pure mana, its scales take on its color. But this isn't the only change. Changes occur at all levels of the organism. The dragon's body undergoes profound changes, becoming stronger and acquiring specific traits.
All this flashed through my mind as I watched the magical wood covering my skin, the quintessence of the Life Force itself, not even burn, but be blown away by the flowing stream of white fire. The protection didn't have time to regenerate and melted like ice, even with the transformation constantly feeding it.
At the same time, I was cultivating a long, very dense spear in my left hand. The idea was to strike the dragon right in the mouth as it exhaled. The black tree should immediately take root and begin draining the dragon's mana, and without mana, there would be no exhalation... And indeed, nothing at all.
Waiting until my breath began to run out, I fired magic straight into the dragon's open maw. But at that moment, the dragon tilted its head to the right, and the spear, even tugging at its roots in flight, simply slid powerlessly from its lower jaw.
The next moment, I realized why the dragon's head had shifted—it had struck me with its left claw; I simply hadn't seen it because of the shield. Although the shield held, I was knocked off my feet and thrown straight into the stone wall of the mansion. The impact of my armored body sent numerous deep cracks running in all directions, and the glass shattered from its frames and rained down like shards.
The roots immediately penetrated the masonry and I didn't fall, but actually stuck to the wall.
With the rest of its exhalation, the dragon drenched the entire garden and part of the house. Even the stone caught fire from the white flame.
Sharp spikes grew out of my shield and simultaneously shot straight into the dragon's face, as it tried to breathe air again...
*****
Baron Tur stayed up late this night, working on paperwork. He needed to sign the burial forms for the dead and figure out what to tell their relatives.
Additionally, it was worth considering the possibility of purchasing provisions beyond the strategic reserve before prices skyrocketed in anticipation of the impending war. An order for additional weapons and consumables such as arrows and various potions...
Quite unexpectedly, one of the communication amulets, made in the form of a bizarre sign in the form of a quadrangular star, flashed brightly and activated.
The office was filled with someone's shout:
- Lord Baron! Alarm! Alarm! There's a White Dragon in the city! We're securing the Raven Abode!
Tur was about to yell at them to sleep it off, but then he remembered it was an acoustic amulet with a direct line to the mages currently guarding the storage units. Kessel was in charge there today, which meant the Baron was now, for the first time in his memory, hearing the voice of the terrified Archmage.
"What kind of White Dragon is it to the demons?" he asked hoarsely about the amulet.
- He literally appeared out of thin air in the Lower City and is now going wild there!
"But what about the rest of the city!?" the baron exclaimed, feeling an unusual feeling of complete powerlessness spreading through his body.
"We need to survive here!" came a panicked reply, and the connection was cut off.
The Baron ran out of the office and down the corridor to the elevator platform, which carried him up to the observation deck of the donjon.
Up here, he looked back and immediately saw the glow of a blazing fire and a large column of smoke rising, sparks flying through it. The tall, unusually bright flames rising above the rooftops illuminated a large white dragon, which at that very moment had brought down one of the five-story residential buildings with a wing strike. The resulting cloud of hot dust rose, obscuring the monster from view.
"Oh, Bright-Blonded Gods..." the baron whispered in a hoarse voice.