THE

GASLIGHTER:

Book 5

By Gregory Gron

Copyright © 2025 Grigorii Volodin

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictionally. All resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons, living dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication can be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

Translated by Julia Kharkova

Оглавление

Chapter 1. Voronov’s End

Chapter 2. Ironclad Proof

Chapter 3. Escape from the Guests

Chapter 4. The Hunt Begins

Chapter 5. The Predatrix

Chapter 6. Rest Up, Ride Out

Chapter 7. Mental Hoarding

Chapter 8. Acquisitions

Chapter 9. Padishah

Chapter 10. On the Way to School

Chapter 11. Anomalous Affairs

Chapter 12. Mutiny on Board

Chapter 13. Unexpected Guest

Chapter 14. Waffle Time

Chapter 15. The Hunger of Darkness

Chapter 16. The Young Slayers’ Stroll

Chapter 17. Not All Enemies Are Goliaths

Chapter 18. Night Taming

Chapter 19. Furry Support Group

Chapter 20. After-School

Chapter 21. My Horns

Chapter 22. Nobleman’s Word

Chapter 23. Uncovering the Sabotage

Chapter 24. Farm

Chapter 25. Daredevil

Chapter 26. Take Your Positions!

Chapter 1. Voronov’s End

This is getting interesting. I’m thinking about how this fight will play out. Eduard is a first-rank Master, a seriously formidable opponent. To be honest, he’s damn formidable. I don’t have any Masters in my Legion, but I can wield the magic of multiple Warriors simultaneously. Plus, I’m a telepath, long past the Master rank myself — though no one knows it.

A hail of bullets and an exploding fireball engulf Eduard. He clutches at the wall, reeling from the impacts, but manages to stay on his feet. His black armor hasn’t been breached yet, of course. At first glance, the armor looks like elastic rubber. It’s nothing like a bulky stone mage’s shell; it’s more like a tight-fitting latex suit for some BDSM fetishist.

Voronov attempts to melt into the shadows. I hurl a couple more fireballs after him and unleash a barrage of psionic blasts. Eduard’s shields will hold, undoubtedly, but the backlash will bring him considerable pain.

That’s exactly what happens. A drawn-out shriek echoes from beneath the fiery canopy:

“A-a-ah! You goddamn pup! So, you are a telepath!”

Oh, I really got to him! He’s yelling his head off! 

I am Legion, arse! My voice reverberates in his head. I suspect that throws Voronov into complete disarray.

To underscore my words, I heave a hefty boulder into the curtain of darkness. There’s a dull thud — boom! — and a fresh wave of screams that drown out the gunfire in this room and beyond. I admit it’s all quite entertaining. However, it seems the battle is taking longer than I would like. Eduard has turned out to be a strong Master. The element of surprise is gone, and now it’ll be an open brawl.

I fling another fireball, but the screaming has stopped. He has dodged it. Black threads of darkness are weaving together from all sides again. Without hesitation, I draw the navaja from its sheath at my waist. A quick charge — and a blue psi-blade erupts from the steel.

I can’t rely on my people anymore. They’re still safe for now. If Eduard isn’t brain-dead — and he isn’t — he’ll try to eliminate me first, because my powers make his Darkness useless against me.

I quickly scan the room and locate the stealther, but before I can launch another fireball, Voronov is already hurling three black spheres at me. I’m prepared for this kind of trickery. It’s a standard Dark Magic attack. I already have a technique ready. Not just a technique, but a combo of defense and offense. Now’s the time to unleash it.

A granite wall erupts in front of the incoming spheres. The globs of darkness explode, obliterating the stone barrier, but they’ve lost momentum to harm me or my people. Now that the obstruction is gone, I casually use a volley of pre-charged fireballs mixed with psionic blasts. It’s far easier for me to combine others’ magic with telepathy than to simultaneously wield the powers of two of my Legionnaires. Telepathy is like second nature to me; I use it reflexively. The other Gifts? They’re harder—like solving equations mid-combat.

Voronov shrieks again, even though he’s barely been hurt. So your skintight armor got toasted? No need to wail like a banshee.

Stay out of it, I telepathically broadcast to the support team behind me. Continue the sweep.

Psi-blade ready, I leap towards Voronov. I don’t bother checking on my people — I know they’ll obey. We thoroughly discussed the plan with Jelly beforehand. The group’s only task was to soften Voronov up at the start in order to breach his defenses. There’s no point for them to get any closer after that, as they would just get themselves killed. Only three of them are gifted, including Jelly, all Warriors, and even then, two of them are just Physiquemages. Against a dark mage? They’re lambs to the slaughter.

“You son of a bitch, Veshchy!” Voronov shrieks, staring at the rubble. “You’re a stone mage, too?! What the hell is going on?!”

He forms a blade from the Darkness and parries my attack. Well, ‘parries’ is a generous term as my navaja slices his creation in half. Meteoric iron is impervious to magical defenses.

Eduard stares in disbelief as the shattered blade dissolves into globs of darkness.

“I thought I made myself clear.” My fiery armor flares brighter with excitement. This is it — the moment I avenge my mother. “Or do I need to…”

…REMIND YOU THAT I AM LEGION?! The rest of my sentence thunders in his mind.

I can’t shatter his shields outright, but I can still communicate telepathically. And scream very, very loudly.

“Argh! Get out of my head!” He forms another blade and swings at me with the black edge.

But I didn’t come close to him for nothing — close combat is my domain. Deflecting his strike and scorching his shields with a psionic blast is as easy as breathing for me. Voronov freezes, and I try to pierce his black armor. No such luck — Eduard manages to leap back. Oh well, have a granite boulder as a parting gift. Voronov raises a black shield just in time, but the impact is tremendous, and it sends him flying backward — straight through the window. The room’s tiny. Five steps and you hit a wall. Or a window, yes, that’s an option too, apparently.

Voronov shatters the glass with his back and tumbles outside. The room instantly brightens, the Darkness fading. But I don’t linger and leap after my opponent. Mid-air, I encase myself in a granite armor. Right over my fiery one. Double the strain, double the power. And considering I’m falling straight onto Voronov’s skull, someone’s about to take double damage.

The fall from the second story gives me extra momentum. I slam into Voronov like a meteor, and with all my strength, I plunge the navaja into his black pauldron. The strike, amplified by Stone and Fire Magic, blasts through his barrier of Darkness. Voronov collapses. His armor vanishes — mine too. My power is almost completely depleted. Maintaining two armors at once is just too draining, and I shouldn’t repeat that trick, or I might end up naked in the middle of a fight. But the risk was worth it: Voronov couldn’t dodge, and there was no other way to pierce a Master’s armor.

I get to my feet and survey my fallen foe. His shoulder is a mangled mess, his face is pale, and his eyes are closed. The grass beneath us is soaked in blood. For a moment, I panic — is he dead? But, quickly grabbing Voronov’s uninjured arm and checking his pulse, I exhale in relief. Alive. Just comatose. But I need to hurry up.

I yank Voronov by the hair and drag him through the bushes towards the flowerbeds. Can’t exactly meditate out in the open on the lawn. Someone from the stragglers still in the house might see me lying down and open fire. That wouldn’t be good.

Hidden in the thicket, I conjure a psi-blade and lightly touch Voronov’s leg with it. I hold it there for a moment, carefully monitoring the processes inside Eduard. The disruptive signal travels along the nerves to his brain. His psychic shields fracture, and his consciousness unlocks to me. I immediately dissipate the psi-construct. Any longer, and he’d be dead. It’s not time for that yet.

I lie down next to the near-lifeless Voronov, trying to calm myself and dive into the astral realm. My heart hammers, my mind is racing with thoughts of the Darkness, but I can’t afford to daydream; I need to focus and descend to the second level. Oh, almost forgot to bring Voronov along. What would I do there alone? Waste a trip, that’s what.

Alright, we’re in. The pale, shimmering mist and the glow of the astral creatures are as usual. The astral is eternal and unchanging, like death. Against my will, philosophy grips me — this place feels sacred.

And not just me, as it turns out. For about five seconds, Voronov and I stand side-by-side, gazing at the grey immutability. Well, I’m waiting for his consciousness to latch onto mine securely. But why is he frozen? I wonder.

“Veshchy!” Eduard starts, snapping awake. He whips his head around, as if just regaining consciousness. “A-a-ah! You little bastard! You’ve dragged me into the astral?! I’m dead, aren’t I?!”

“You’re not yet,” I calmly clarify. After all, he is not my enemy anymore, but my Legionnaire. We still have to live and grow in power together. “But your father and your entire bloodline must be.”

He stares at me with incredulous eyes, then abruptly drops to his knees and breaks down weeping. He has believed me.

Are my words merciless? Absolutely. However, they’re also true: the Voronovs have no chance against the elite duke’s units. I always base my business and personal relationships on honesty, and I had no intention of humiliating Voronov. There is no point in that, as he got what he deserved and can no longer return to his previous life. Instead, he faces a new and difficult existence.

“We’ll chat another time,” I wrap my mental tendrils around his mind. “Time to go back.”

Reality rushes in as I pry open my eyelids. Voronov is lying beside me, now definitively dead. The gunfire inside the house has ceased.

I tap my headset.

“Jelly, Megamind. Status.”

“Megamind, all clear. Over.” The weary voice replies.

Good. Of course, there were some hiccups. I had planned to provide a lot more support to my people during the cleanup, but Voronov fought like a demon to stop me from avenging my mother, the bastard. No matter, I’ll retrain him. Soon, he’ll be ‘a shining paragon of justice.’

I return to the house. In the hall, I’m greeted by a surprised Jelly.

“Boss?” he asks, wide-eyed. “Have you been outside long? I thought you were fighting on the second floor…”

“Just went down to admire the flowerbeds,” I reply. “Decided to take one of the weeds with me. Send someone out there. The other corpses need to be removed as well. It’s not polite to litter at the baroness’ place.”

“Understood,” Jelly nods and issues the necessary orders.

We’re not exactly covering our tracks, not even close! We’d need a professional cleaning service to scrub away all that blood. This is simply elementary courtesy towards the baroness. I still have to answer to the Gornorudovs. So it’s best not to leave any bodies lying around.

Once the dead are loaded into the trailer hitched to one of the jeeps, we finally get moving. We don’t go far. Following Voronov’s example, we’ve rented a small house on the other side of town. It’ll serve as our temporary base. Hopefully, we won’t get attacked here either, heh. Unless it’s the Gorgon. I’d actually welcome a fight with that beast. I really don’t want to have to chase it down.

Some of the people are taking the bodies out of town to bury in a field. The rest settle into the house, setting up watches, assigning bunks, and generally getting situated. I, naturally, get the master bedroom with the king-size bed.

But none of that really matters right now. What matters is how the assault on the Voronov estate is progressing. I’m worried about Stepan, but it’s too early to call. I need to wait for a report.

Finally, a call comes in. It’s Sergey, my future head of security.

“Tell me everything,” I say, picking up the phone.

“All clear,” Sergey exhales, sounding tired but pleased. “The Voronovs have been eliminated. Stepan took a stray shot, but the duke’s healers patched him up quickly, but he is weak and can’t speak. Looks like your operation was a success too?”

I smirk. If it hadn’t been, I wouldn’t be talking to you right now

“Right, the heir is out of commission. How did it go on your end?”

“Our losses were minimal,” Sergey explains, all business. “Went like clockwork. First, mortar fire on the turrets, then air-to-surface missile strikes, thanks to Duke Morozov for the hardware and choppers. It’s almost sad to part with such beauties,” he sighs wistfully. “Once we took out the anti-air, we dropped a team onto the roof of the house. From there, they disabled the turrets from the inside. That’s how the main force got into the manor. Then came the sweep. Had to tussle with the head of the family — powerful Master, most likely second-rank.”

“Understood.” Shame I missed it. Arkadiy was stronger than Eduard and more experienced. His Gift as the head is more desirable. Though it’s doubtful anyone would have let me grapple with him in the heat of the assault. “Are you sure Stepan is alright?”

“He’ll be good as new tomorrow,” the guard captain assures me.

“Everyone in combat wore the chevrons with the falcons?”

“Of course, we even put them on the duke’s guard,” Sergey replies. “Well, on a dozen or so guardsmen. The rest balked, so we had to leave them without emblems.”

“That’ll do.”

Immediately after Sergey, I call Vitaliy Sokolov:

“The Voronovs have been eliminated.”

“Excellent news,” he replies, audibly pleased. “I’ve already filed a claim with Duke Dolgorukiy against the Voronovs, along with the evidence. Duke Velikopermskiy’s signature is on the document. There will be some wrangling from Tver’s side, written complaints and other bureaucratic nonsense, but that doesn’t matter. That memory imprint you secured during the raid? Ironclad proof. We’re within our rights.”

“Excellent,” I smile. “So, we can put the Voronovs behind us.”

“Looks like it. But be careful, Danila. I have a feeling there are other nobles who have it in for you as well.”

“How right you are,” I sigh, thinking of Paskevich siblings. “But their time will come.”

“You know, for some reason, I don’t doubt that,” Vitaliy laughs.

I hang up and flop onto the bed. The job is done, well, almost. Today, I need to relax, have some ice cream and pastries, get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow, tackle this Gorgon. And also, dedicate some time to the Darkness. A very interesting Gift. And I love anything interesting.

The next morning, bright and early, the baroness calls.

“You naughty, naughty boy, so that’s what you were really up to,” to my surprise, Jeanne doesn’t sound angry at all. Her words are almost playful. “Decided to catch Voronov off guard in my barony?”

“My apologies, Jeanne Valeryevna,” I reply respectfully. “But I didn’t lie. I came to rid you of the Gorgon. I’m just now figuring out how to trap it. As for Mr. Voronov, he attacked me, and paid the price for it.”

“He attacked you, you say? Interesting,” the baroness drawls. “Why would he do that? Afraid of the competition, perhaps? Though he didn’t seem particularly eager to hunt that beast.”

Oh, this is like a cat-and-mouse game: Jeanne throws out a comment and waits to see how I’ll respond. But I won’t play along.

“He wasn’t as eager to help you as I am,” I say calmly. “He attacked me out of personal animosity. To be honest, I don’t know the reason for his hatred towards me, but the truth is that Voronov hates me. He orchestrated a bandit raid on my town and tried to kill me before.”

“How fascinating!” the baroness exclaims cheerfully. “And you know, savior, I’ve been expecting you as my guest. You should have come straight to me after you arrived, you naughty boy,” she repeats that nickname with a certain pleasure.

“I thought I’d deal with the Gorgon first,” I try to wriggle out of it, adding some youthful enthusiasm to my voice. “I don’t want you to lose any more subjects because of the beast!”

“How very sweet of you, savior,” Jeanne chuckles. “Your concern touches me deeply. But the beast can wait. I expect you here immediately.”

Her voice sounds strange, as if it’s being heard directly in my mind. I raise my eyes and see the smirking baroness. Just a brief moment. I blink, and the image vanishes.

Jeanne has already hung up. Well, damn. The baroness knows how to lure me in. Telepathy over vast distances, huh? I didn’t think that was even possible. I’ll come and ask her about it.

Actually, I used the wrong argument. Looks like this woman doesn’t give a damn about her subjects. She’s far too pragmatic and cynical. I should have talked about the losses to the barony and the loss of valuable specialists. Maybe that would have worked. Lesson learned for the future. Now I need to get ready to visit.

Chapter 2. Ironclad Proof

“So we’ve lost our lanthanum supply,” Duke Stepan Paskevich scoffs. “We just signed a contract with those…what were they called? The Sorokins?”

“The Voronovs, Your Excellency,” the CEO of Paskevich Group says with a bow. “Unfortunately, they were wiped out literally overnight. The Voronov family no longer exists. As of now, there aren’t any disruptions in the rare earth metal supply chain, but I believe we need to secure ourselves, or we won’t be able to manufacture the necessary volume of electronics.”

“Alright, why are you telling me all this?” Stepan asks, puzzled.

“We need lanthanum on an industrial scale, and only Morozov’s vassals can provide it in the required quantity,” the executive says timidly.

“Hey, hold on! Morozov?!” Stepan slams his hand on the table. “I don’t want to become even more dependent on that ‘snowman’! He already supplies us with nickel and promethium. You want me to go begging to that butcher again? No way! If I disagree with him on something again, our economic security will be at risk.”

“The guard’s analytical division told me the same thing, Stepan Alekseevich,” the CEO sighs sadly. “But understand, there simply aren’t any other suppliers right now, and we’re on a tight deadline. We can’t damage the company’s reputation.”

“Fine, arrange a temporary contract with the Morozovs, but in the meantime, look for other suppliers,” the duke grudgingly concedes.

“Temporary terms will raise the price per ton of metal, Stepan Alekseevich. And we’ll lose about thirty percent of our potential profits,” the head of Paskevich Group points out.

“Thirty percent?!” The duke tugs at his mustache and sighs. “Then we’ll have to take the hit. Find new suppliers faster to cut down on expenses.”

“It will be done.”

“Who wiped out these Voronovs?” the duke asks, intrigued. “The guard vetted them before we concluded the last contract. I thought they were the strongest in their region.”

“You’re right — the Voronovs had a reliability rating of ‘A+.’ It was the Sokolov family that destroyed them,” the CEO slides a report toward the duke. “Here’s the guard’s analysis.”

Paskevich takes the sheet and reads the text intently. This is very important. ‘A+’ is a very high reliability rating for families. Only those rated ‘AA’ — dukes and members close to the royal court — are higher. The Voronovs were clearly part of the regional elite, but their immense power didn’t save them. There are likely two reasons: they either crossed someone more powerful, or the guard’s rating is outdated, in which case the criteria need immediate updating.

“Some Sokolovs from the backwoods?!” Paskevich exclaims, his eyes widening halfway through the text. “You’re telling me some provincial family from Budovsk wiped them out? Hmm... Budovsk...” the duke continues reading the report until he comes across a mention of Danila Veshchy, who also resides in Budovsk. The clever security analyst linked the commoner telepath to the Voronovs’ exterminators. “Veshchy,” Stepan drawls, his eyes narrowing angrily. “So that little bastard’s involved. He’s turned out to be a strong telepath? Rising up against the nobles? Don’t worry — Dima will squash you soon enough in the ring.”

“Your Excellency?” the perplexed CEO asks, seeking clarification.

“It’s a trap set by Morozov!” Paskevich snarls, suddenly understanding everything. “Yuriy deliberately crushed the Voronovs so that we would come running to him for lanthanum. He trained Veshchy, of course. Acquired himself a telepathic attack dog. The kid’s aiming high — in position and rank — but he won’t live to see his graduation.”

“Graduation?” The CEO repeats, bewildered.

“He’s just a kid,” the duke throws out dismissively. “Very talented, but still a kid. And don’t even think about concluding a contract with Morozov. We’ll take the losses until you find other suppliers.”

“But our reputation-” the despondent CEO stammers.

“We’ll survive,” Paskevich waves him off. “I don’t want to fall into Morozov’s trap.”

***

Even though the baroness said ‘immediately’ — and in such an unusual manner — I don’t rush to her right away. It’s still morning, and I need breakfast, a shower, and to brief my team about yesterday’s events. This is definitely something that needs to be done before the guys start spreading rumors about their boss being a mage with multiple Gifts.

I choose the living room for our meeting. The men settle onto plush sofas and expensive chairs with elegant carved backs.

I stand in the middle of the room and survey the attentive faces. Well, this is surprising. To be honest, I expected to see a look of surprise or confusion in their eyes after yesterday’s events, when many of them saw me donning fiery armor and throwing stone projectiles. However, everyone seems calm and even confident.

“You’re probably wondering what I did yesterday,” I begin. “How does a telepath wield fire and granite? I can’t answer you for various reasons. Just a reminder that you all signed the non-disclosure agreement. No one forced you to join my guard. You’re veterans; you know wartime laws. Therefore, you should also know that the punishment for violating an order is execution.”

No one flinches, and an austere silence hangs in the room.

“Boss,” Jelly says, raising his hand. “You can count on us. We’ll keep our mouths shut. If I may say so, we’re even glad you’re so deadly. What a trump card against our enemies! We’ll wipe them all away!”

The silent soldiers nod eagerly, enthusiasm glowing in their eyes. Their faces radiate renewed morale. Real loyalty, indeed. The most telling part was Jelly’s phrase: ‘Against our enemies.’ The group no longer separates themselves from me, which is gratifying.

I’ve just confirmed for myself the main law of this world: you’re forgiven a lot if you’re much stronger than others. Including secrecy. The guys don’t understand my power, but they’re more than happy that their boss can cast a fireball or grow a granite shell or do other lethal things at any moment. Strong leadership is what people need, especially in a world where magic and powerful nobles exist.

Speaking of nobles…

“I’m going to share something with you. I’m going to acquire a coat of arms,” I announce loudly. Aha, now I’ve got the guys surprised! Half of them drop their jaws. I smirk with satisfaction. “Why not? If we managed to wipe out an entire noble family in cold blood in a single day, then how are we any worse?”

They laugh heartily. I didn’t even have to explain that the guys would become my guardsmen. They’ve already figured out that we’re in the same boat.

The meeting ends, and everyone goes back to their posts. It was a productive discussion. I thought the guys would react differently. I expected a ton of questions. I wouldn’t have been surprised by outrage; I even had a couple of calming phrases ready. But Stepan did a good job. My stepfather has a talent for selecting people, and that can't be taken away from him.

After the meeting, I give Jelly the task of gathering information about the Gorgon: where it was last seen, who suffered from its claws, what kind of victims it prefers. I need statistics, and a lot of them. If even the royal hunters can’t manage to capture the beast, it must be very elusive... But I have Candy, a three-hundred-year-old Alfar who has seen Gorgons in her long life.

I head to the Gornorudovs’ house in a camouflage jacket, pants, and army boots. No tuxedo — I came to hunt. While I do have some regular clothes from the airport, they’re all wrinkled from the travel and I didn't have time to iron them. But we did pack several suitcases full of camouflage.

After almost two hours on the road, the bleak Ural landscapes finally give way to the huge estate of the Gornorudov family. The setting sun casts a warm, red glow on the white walls. It’s already five o’clock. I hope the baroness will forgive me for the delay. Still, ‘immediately’ is a vague term, and she needs to be more specific about when she wants me to arrive.

As we approach the gates, the driver cries out:

“Boss, there’s a big dog running alongside us… No! It’s a wolf! Boss, it’s a wolf!”

I glance at Nastya running on the shoulder. The shapeshifter, seeing me, wags her tail happily.

“It’s not a wolf,” I chuckle. “That’s the Baron’s daughter, Anastasia Pavlovna. Quickly wipe that frightened look off your face and smile at Her Ladyship.”

The stunned driver doesn’t dare disobey and forces a strained grin, suddenly looking a lot like a fierce Native American. The she-wolf running beside us stares at his ‘benevolent face’ in surprise. I’m almost bursting with laughter.

Meanwhile, the gates of the estate are already close. Through the intercom, we’re asked briefly who we are and why we are here, we answer, and the automatic gates slide open. We drive up to the porch, I get out, and almost bump into Nastya, who has already transformed back into a red-haired girl. As always, she looks striking: short denim shorts and an open top, even though it’s a cold autumn. Apparently, shapeshifters must be resilient. I should get one for my collection so I won't catch a cold. Winter is coming soon, along with ARVI, avian flu, and swine flu…

“Anastasia Pavlovna, good evening,” I say, smiling politely at the golden-eyed girl.

Nastya, unable to restrain herself, comes close and squeezes my hands tightly. I get the feeling that if it weren’t for propriety, she would hug me. Or maybe I’m I’m just imagining it.

“Danya, finally!” the shapeshifter chirps, and her voice trembles with excitement and anxiety. “Mom’s been waiting for you since this afternoon! Why did you make her wait?!”

Unexpected. At first, I have the urge to say, “Maybe we can skip the accusations, Nastya?” But then I notice the fear in the girl’s amber eyes. She’s afraid. And she’s afraid for me. Amusing. I can certainly stand up for myself in a conversation with the baroness.

“I had urgent matters, Nastya,” I say calmly. “Why are you so worried?”

“Mom was angry that you didn’t come sooner,” she sighs, finally letting go of my hands. “I’m afraid she might… punish you.”

Wow. Could the baroness really attack a late guest so easily? If so, then things are really bad in the Gornorudov family. Lady Macbeth would blush.

“Let’s not worry preemptively, but just go and talk to Jeanne Valeryevna,” I suggest. “It’s impolite to make her wait even longer, since she was so eager to see me.”

“Yes, you’re right, let’s go,” Nastya is the first to step onto the high porch, and I don’t miss the chance to admire her shapely figure from behind. If there’s one thing shapeshifters have, it’s athletic, curvaceous forms. Candy has that quality too, by the way.

In the hall, I hand my jacket to a servant, remaining in my dark green army T-shirt. It’s here that we’re met by the Baron, who happens to be passing by. Pavel Timofeyevich looks very irritated.

“Finally arrived,” the Baron either growls or grumbles. Then he looks me up and down, becoming even more annoyed. “What did you come in wearing?”

Well, this is very hospitable. Alright, I’ll respond to this attack with politeness. Maybe, with my contrast, he’ll realize how ridiculous he looks with his rudeness.

“In gear, Your Honor,” I bow slightly. “My people are currently trying to locate the Gorgon, and it’s very possible that I’ll go hunting for the beast immediately after leaving your estate.”

“Hunting, is it,” he snorts. “We’ll discuss that later. You’re invited to dinner at six. Jeanne won’t talk to you before then. Wait.”

He struts off, proud as a peacock. I have a feeling that the Baron’s character has changed drastically after his wife’s resurrection. Before that, he was all amoebic and useless. Now he’s become irritable and infuriating.

“We can take a walk in the winter garden in the meantime,” Nastya says quietly, clearly upset by her father’s behavior.

“Of course,” I smile again. It takes a lot to ruin my mood. “We can also catch up.”

For half an hour, Nastya and I stroll through the orangery, and she tells me about me about her life since our last meeting. Apparently, Jeanne is considering marrying off her daughter. Among the suitors is — you’ll never guess — Count Konstantin Mitovich. The very same telepath who came after me at the Gornorudov’s ball, and then fled screaming from my illusory apes.

“He’s an asshole,” I remark fairly.

Nastya giggles.

“A bit, but his family owns several banks. Mom is planning to create the largest financial conglomerate.”

“Typical ambitious goals for Jeanne Valeryevna,” I say, unsurprised.

We arrive in the dining room ahead of time. I sit in the guest’s place, but immediately stand up because the Gornorudov couple appears in the doorway.

“Savior,” Jeanne smiles, all radiant and cheerful. I wouldn’t guess she was in a bad mood recently. “You weren’t in a hurry,” she says with a gentle reproach.

“Forgive me for the delay,” I bow. No shame in courtesy as long as no one interferes with my business. “I was delayed by organizational matters. I broke away to come to you as soon as I could. Besides, the journey took two hours.”

“I’ll forgive you this first time,” the baroness replies lightly, and sits down gracefully — smiling, beautiful, young… Well, at least outwardly. Everyone else sits down as well. “Let’s begin the meal. I have a business proposition for you, but we’ll discuss it after dinner in my study.”

“Darling,” the Baron suddenly interjects, flashing a displeased look. “Are you really suggesting we dine with someone who takes the law into his own hands on our lands?”

“Ah, yes,” Jeanne laughs brightly and turns to me. “I’ve almost forgotten. Savior, tell me, what was your issue with Voronov?”

“Of course, Jeanne Valeryevna,” I say smoothly. “As I’ve already stated, several weeks ago Eduard Voronov organized a bandit raid on my town.”

“Your words can’t be verified,” the Baron says in an accusatory tone.

“Why not, Pavel Timofeyevich?” I ask, feigning surprise. “They most certainly can. Jeanne Valeryevna, shall I transmit to you the memories of the late Eduard Voronov?”

The Baron freezes, while his wife laughs again, pure and bright, like the ringing of bells.

“Savior, I see that you’ve anticipated everything,” she purrs with satisfaction. “Well then, transmit them.”

I access Eduard’s consciousness and extract a fragment of memory about how the Voronov heir was preparing the raid and assassination attempt on my mother. I transfer this mental imprint to the baroness via a psi-link.

For a few seconds, she sits frozen, face blank save for her lips moving silently, and her ample chest heaves.

“Vile scavenger!” Jeanne says with indignation. “To come up with such a despicable plan! Serves that Voronov right!”

“But, darling!” the Baron bursts out. “Since when are commoners allowed to kill nobles?”

“When it’s justified, it’s always been allowed,” Jeanne retorts. “The boy has ironclad proof — Voronov’s memory. No authority will be able to touch him. Voronov started this pathetic game first and paid the price for his stupidity.”

Pavel fidgets with the napkin on the table, but eventually he gives in. I relax a bit. The discussion about Voronov has been resolved. Let’s see what comes next.

After that, dinner proceeds in silence. The baron and baroness both glance at me: one glowering, the other with cheerful sparks in her eyes. Nastya sits as quiet as a mouse. Finally, at the end of the meal, Jeanne rises from the table, and so the Baron and I have to stand up too, even though Pavel is still sipping his cranberry juice.

“Savior, with me,” Jeanne throws out, and without waiting for my answer, strides into the hallway.

Now the most interesting part begins.

Chapter 3. Escape from the Guests

“Make yourself at home, my savior,” the baroness offers graciously.

We have just entered her spacious, modern study. The baroness gestures invitingly towards a seating area, and we settle into soft leather armchairs.

“You are very kind, Jeanne Valeryevna,” I say gratefully, making myself comfortable.

“My savior is certainly worthy of comfort,” the cunning woman coos in response.

Jeanne playfully crosses her legs, and I don’t disappoint the baroness — I cast a quick glance at her rounded knees flashing from under the hem of her dress. Not that I wanted to, but she’s clearly doing it on purpose. This way, I hedged my bets, while also paying tribute to her beauty and avoiding an indecent, long stare at her slender legs.

My strategy works — a satisfied smile curves the baroness’ lips.

“Tell me, what have you found on your family estate?” Jeanne asks, getting straight to the point.

She’s getting right down to business. And she’s not hiding her interest. So, we’re playing in the open. Or at least pretending that’s the case.

“As I said on the phone, the Owlson estate is riddled with astral pockets,” I spread my hands wide. “There are dozens, if not hundreds, of breaches into the astral. I couldn’t have imagined such a thing was possible before, Jeanne Valeryevna,” I confess honestly, in order to immediately ask some confusing questions, “How are they holding together there? What are they feeding on?”

“The astral is what sustains them,” Jeanne replies casually. “But you’ve already figured that out yourself, savior. You can’t fool me, sly boy.”

Hmm, it’s a pity I can’t. After all, if she knows about the self-charging pockets, then the Astral Bay isn’t a secret to her either.

“I know that you can stay on the estate as long as you want,” Jeanne confirms my suspicions. “The Astral Bay recharges your energy, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” it’s pointless to deny it. “I haven’t tried to deceive you anyway. I just don’t fully understand the process of creating astral pockets.”

“Of course, and no one does, because it’s an Owlson family secret,” Jeanne nods with evident envy. “But now it’s your secret too. Because you are an Owlson. You’ll be able to unlock all of Mikhail’s secrets when you get to your family estate. No one else can do it, only you. Do you know why?”

“The pockets,” I nod.

“Correct. The astral pockets will drain the energy from anyone who approaches the estate,” Jeanne confirms. “The power of a telepath doesn’t matter. Only a carrier of the Owlson blood won’t fall dead there. Have you studied the Swarm yet?”

The Swarm? Hmm, she must be talking about the Legion. Of course, the baroness knows about the Owlson Gift. Jeanne herself admitted once that she was very close to my biological uncle, Eduard. Whether they slept together or something else happened between them, it doesn’t matter.

“I’m starting to do it,” I say cautiously.

“Be careful,” Jeanne warns, abruptly wiping the smile from her face. “The Swarm is very dangerous for a fragile mind. Even the Owlsons themselves were afraid to absorb too many consciousnesses. Children and adolescents were completely forbidden from doing so. They had to wait until twenty to twenty-five to acquire their first Legionnaire.”

“Twenty-five?” I wonder aloud. Although, in principle, it makes sense. If a telepath is morally weak, the Collection can overcome their consciousness and take over their body. Enslaved minds are not toys.

“Of course!” the baroness says earnestly. “Think for yourself — how difficult it is to control a multitude of beings in your head! The Owlsons underwent special training before taking on the Swarm. And those who didn’t became dangerous schizophrenics. So, savior, I beg you…” she suddenly leans forward and gently touches my face with her palm. “Be careful,” she purrs very close.

“Of course, Jeanne Valeryevna,” I reply calmly, not reacting in any way to her behavior.

There’s a knock at the door and the barely audible creak of hinges.

“Darling…” the baron’s voice breaks off in the middle of the sentence.

“Yes, dear?” the baroness calls back, not turning to her frozen-in-the-doorway husband. Good thing she has at least taken her hand off my cheek. But she still could have turned to her husband, instead of looking at me like a cat at cream. The Gornorudovs certainly have some strange customs in their house.

“I’ll come back later,” the baron says, closing the door. Quietly, without a slam. An accommodating husband, to say the least.

“You will be careful with the Swarm, savior?” Jeanne continues as if nothing had happened.

“Of course, thank you for your concern,” I nod casually.

I’m not worried. I can easily hold onto the current number of consciousnesses, and I constantly train to recruit new members, plus, whenever a new member joins the Collection, I always check to see if my control has weakened. The Owlsons were right not to allow their children to start a Collection. But I’m not a child. I may have the body of a schoolboy, but I myself survived the damned nuclear war and the hell that followed it. I certainly have enough willpower for the Collection. The Legion and I are perfectly matched.

“Do you have any more questions?” Jeanne leans back and, stretching her flexible body, looks at me with a smile.

I should decline and leave now — but she’s clearly waiting for a question about remote telepathy. I’m already tired of these games, but oh well, I’ll ask. Because if I don’t, she still won’t let me go until she says what she really needs to say.

“You were able to contact me via psi-connection over a great distance. Could you tell me how you did it?”

Smiling mysteriously, Jeanne stands up and walks gracefully towards the cabinet. Soon she takes out a thin gold chain with a pendant, on which the Gornorudov coat of arms is depicted.

“I created artifacts that increase the amplitude of telepaths’ psi-channels,” the baroness explains, handing me the chain in a smooth motion. “Unfortunately, my current method of transmitting signals is quite labor-intensive, and I only have the strength for a single message at a time. The Owlsons, however, solved this issue, I hear?” Jeanne smiles. “I’m sure there are similar artifacts left on their estate. I want to acquire their communication method and put new artifacts into mass production to gain even more wealth and power.”

“Hmm, thank you for your honesty,” I say thoughtfully, examining the chain. “Apparently, you need me to get into the estate.”

“Correct,” the baroness says, sitting on the armrest of my chair. “And you need a wise mentor to get through all the pockets. I’m ready to teach you telepathy, and in return, you’ll share your findings on the estate, including the ‘communication artifacts.’”

“A tempting offer,” I say, just to say something.

“Think about it as much as you need to,” Jeanne says as she gets up easily and falls back into her chair. “I’ll wait until you understand one simple thing. Without me, you won’t get into the estate, my savior. Unique talent alone isn’t enough, you also need impeccable refinement.”

“You are absolutely right about the refinement, Jeanne Valeryevna,” I agree. “But right now, I’m not ready to stay in your estate for long and forget about all my affairs. Otherwise, I risk losing ‘Valentino’ and my loved ones. The Voronovs are not the only ones who wish me harm.”

“I see,” the baroness says, frowning.

“In any case, I’ll consider your unique offer,” I add. “After catching the Blue Gorgon, I’ll have some time.”

Now Jeanne looks at me without a smile. If I weren’t myself, I would be pretty scared and tense. But nervousness can only provoke a woman who isn’t used to being rejected. I’ve known predators like this. They are terribly hot-tempered, but at the same time, if you are confident, do not give in, and stay calm, it will act like a bucket of cold water on them. You always need to respond to a female claim with caution and conviction. A woman, even a Grandmaster telepath, is still a woman.

And sometimes you have to give hope that her plans may come true. Even if that never happens.

“Then I’ll await your answer, savior,” Jeanne says, smiling again as if the sun had peeked out from behind the clouds. “I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.”

Well, it’s good that she didn’t lose her temper, because I have a gut feeling she could have easily lost it.

After that, the conversation continues in a non-businesslike manner. For the next fifteen minutes, the baroness carelessly coos and purrs, and at my couple of jokes, she laughs brightly and throws up her hands, saying:

“Oh, savior, you’re such a card!”

I only completely relax when I finally say goodbye to the baroness and get out of the baron’s house into the fresh air. Nastya, who has been sitting in the living room, escorts me to the porch.

“After you’re finished with the Gorgon, will you come visit again?” the shapeshifter asks shyly, tugging at the elastic band of her top. The gesture looks touchingly innocent.

“That possibility isn’t excluded,” I venture. “By the way, Nastya, I’m probably meddling, but can I give you some friendly advice?”

“Of course, Danya,” the girl says with a shrug.

“You’re too young to languish near Tagil,” I say seriously. “Before they marry you off, you can continue studying at a university in the capital. It’s very possible that you would meet someone better than Count Mitovich there, and Jeanne Valeryevna would approve of your choice as a good match… Although you probably have reasons for being here.”

“Not really,” Nastya sighs. “I did study in Moscow, but then I came home for summer vacation, and then you came and resurrected Mom. And then… yeah, I’m probably not very needed by Mom here. Thank you, Danya!” she shakes her red curls. “You’re right, it’s time to ask to go back to the capital. We can go somewhere there, like the movies,” she smiles radiantly.

“Why not? I’ll be flying to Moscow often now,” I nod. “My company headquarters are there, after all.”

I kiss the girl’s hand in farewell and depart for my temporary base. Damn, it’s practically night already! Hopefully, Jelly has obtained useful information about the Gorgon. I wouldn’t want to chase the beast until winter. And I still need to find time to master the Darkness!

***

That evening, Pavel Gornorudov ordered a loyal guardsman to deal with the pup. The baron was fed up with his resurrected wife paying so much attention to that boy. Of course, Pavel couldn’t voice his dissatisfaction to Jeanne. He never could.

But he could do something else. For example, eliminate the pup. Then Jeanne would forget about him and start looking for other ways to get to the Owlson estate. It was as simple as two plus two.

A Vesta belonging to one of his trusted security men stops near an unremarkable concrete building. Yegor Smelniy gets out of the car and, stepping under the porch’s awning, impatiently knocks on the iron door. He is immediately let in.

“Who the hell are you?! What are you breaking in for?!” A shaved-headed guy appears in the doorway, raising a pistol. “Sick of living, you moron?!”

But Yegor just snorts disdainfully and releases a blood cord from his hand. The red thread pierces the bandit’s skull, and he falls down, dead.

“That’s for ‘moron’,” Yegor spits on the corpse, then shows the next two bandits a ring with the Gornorudov coat of arms. “I’m a man of the baron, you scum! Take me to your boss right now, before I call in the cavalry and wipe out your entire pathetic gang!”

Five minutes later, the man is already sitting in the gang leader’s office, while the leader himself stands at attention before him, shaking like jelly.

“So, listen up. You’ll eliminate this boy,” Yegor says, taking a photograph out of his pocket and throwing it in the bandit’s face. He barely manages to catch it. “The address where he’s currently staying is on the back.”

“Timrir?” the leader reads, turning the photo over.

“You’ll send the entire gang there,” Yegor continues. “He has twenty fighters with him. Your thirty should be enough, if you strike suddenly. You’ll eliminate him today, got it?”

“Your Honor…” the dumbfounded leader croaks.

“Here’s the key to a truck with weapons,” Yegor throws a jingling set of keys onto the table. “There’s a full crate of machine guns and ammo in there. Don’t let me down. As soon as you complete the task, you’ll get a million rubles.”

“A million?!”

“And the baron’s patronage,” Yegor says as he gets up and leaves without looking back. However, he does manage to throw in a warning, “And if you fail — you’re a dead man.”

As he walks through the dark, moldy corridors of the bandit base, the man thinks to himself: “Either way, you’ll be dead by morning. The baron doesn’t need witnesses.”

Unfortunately, Yegor doesn’t know that the baron holds the same opinion about him.

***

Jelly has dug up quite a bit on the Blue Gorgon. Upon returning from the baroness, I received a thick folder from him and now I am sitting here, thoughtfully examining photos of the recent victims. Nearby on the table lies a phone, with Candy speaking to me on speakerphone.

“Danya, you’re saying the victims were mauled?!” the Alfar exclaims in shock.

“Mauled is an understatement,” I scoff. “There isn’t a single uninjured spot on the poor people. The Gorgon mows down everyone indiscriminately: women, the elderly, children. Moreover, people are clearly killed not for food, but for some sadistic pleasure.”

“That’s very strange,” Candy says. “Blue Gorgons are actually noble predators. They don’t kill more than they can eat. And Gorgons don’t usually attack the young, even of other species.”

“Another mystery,” I pronounce my verdict. “Alright, I’ll figure it out. How are things with you? Is Maria Fyodorovna feeling well?”

“Yes, not bad,” the Alfar says with a smile in her voice. “Now Antonina Pavlovna is teaching me kuldagebre too. When you come, I’ll be sitting on your lap again during her lessons,” she says happily.

“Hmm, you apparently don’t understand how the learning process should go,” I remark.

“How then? Not on the lap of one’s beloved?” she asks ingenuously.

Ahem…. I’m certainly not prepared for such a revelation.

The radio on the table crackles to life:

“Megamind, Jelly. We have guests. Armed. Over.”

“I have to go. Say hello to everyone,” I end the call with the Alfar and, grabbing the radio, hurry to the group leader.

Five minutes later, the details are clarified in Jelly’s office. Sentinel scanners detected several consciousnesses near the house. It’s a good thing we chose a property on the very edge of town for our base. No one unfamiliar would wander here — there’s simply no reason to. So, it means enemies have arrived.

And very foolish enemies at that. Otherwise, they would have guessed that we might have scanners. After the encounter with the Drillers, I’m wary of sleeping in the Gornorud barony without additional patrols. Someone from the baroness’ entourage clearly wants to eliminate me, and I need to be prepared for any surprises.

“We installed cameras in the thickets during the day,” Jelly reports. “They have detected a couple of gunmen. In total, there are five consciousnesses near the fence. Clearly, reconnaissance.”

“One second,” I order, and he falls silent.

I activate a long-range telepathic scan and find a squad scattered in the woods near the fence. I don’t stop there and scan further until I discover two vans with twenty fighters near the road.

“Yes, reconnaissance,” I confirm. “They’re waiting for us to go to bed. Then they’ll call in the main group and the assault will begin.”

“Attack?” the squad commander asks efficiently.

Hmm, should I hand these lousy guys over to my men? I could, but first, I’ll have a little fun myself. I need to practice the Collection’s techniques, and since someone has thrown some live meat for me to tear apart, why not take the chance?

“Yeah, but not right now,” I decide. “For now, turn on the lights in a few rooms and crank up the radio in the dining room. I’ll quickly take out the reconnaissance. As soon as I give the order, move on the main group by the road. They’re sitting in vans.”

“Order understood,” Jelly says, not even seeming surprised by my whim. A true soldier. Never asks questions.

Well, let’s have some fun now. The loud music and lights will force the reconnaissance to lie low, and that’s when I’ll sneak up on them. I don’t know the name of the kind person who sent me these live, moving targets, but when we meet — and we definitely will! — I’ll say a big, heartfelt ‘thank you’ to them. It’ll be the last thing they hear.

Chapter 4. The Hunt Begins

“Thank you, Candy,” Antonina Pavlovna says softly, stroking her sleeping daughter’s head. “I’m so glad Danila brought us to his home. Your songs and wonderful hands are saving Masha’s life. No medicine has helped so much.”

Candy smiles slightly wearily and adjusts the knitted cap on her head. Another session has worn the blonde out a bit. Of course, she managed to help the girl, and the spasms have passed, but unfortunately, new attacks will come tomorrow.

“I’ve only alleviated the pain. But don’t worry: very soon Masha, or rather, Maria Fyodorovna,” the Alfar corrects herself, remembering how respectfully the telepath referred to the girl, “will be saved by our Danila.”

“What?!” Antonina says in surprise, but immediately lowers her voice so as not to wake the girl, “What are you talking about?”

“He didn’t tell you?” the Alfar asks with wide eyes. “I guess he didn’t have time. Anyway, Danila didn’t just leave for his own business; he also expects to bring back a healing medicine for Maria Fyodorovna. I won’t tell you the details, but believe me, Tonya, the elixir will definitely help the little one. After all, at three hundred years old, I know how to make potions really well.”

“You meant to say thirty years old?” the astonished teacher asks. In her opinion, even thirty is a lot for this beautiful woman.

“Of course,” Candy says without blinking.

Tears well up in Antonina’s eyes.

“What’s wrong, Tonya?” the Alfar asks, frightened.

“Danila has done so much for me…” the teacher says, sighing. “My favorite student….”

She sobs, large, silent tears running down her cheeks. Candy looks at the teacher in bewilderment. Humans are so strange! She’s just been told good news, and for some reason she’s crying. Why shed tears? She should smile, like Candy!

***

Before the foray, I activate the Basilisk’s mind. Now I’m invisible to scanners — if there are any among the scouts. They seem to be individuals with ‘unremarkable IQs’, but it doesn’t hurt to play it safe. I don’t like relying on luck.

Then it’s time to activate Voronov. Ignoring his upset expression, I wrap myself in the Cloak of Darkness and dive out of the window from a room with the lights off. Without removing the Darkness, I quickly cross the wide lawn, scale the wall, and I’m outside the cottage grounds.

I reach the first two scouts in a couple of seconds. They’re sitting, munching on crackers and littering — pigs. I don’t like crackers, as they’re salty. Why couldn’t they have brought chocolate cookies for me? But since they didn’t think of me, they’ll die painfully. Moreover, these uninvited guests are just ordinary street bandits. I immediately rummage through their minds. They are typical thugs, without shields, which is most annoying. I just don’t understand one thing! Haven’t I earned a strong opponent? Or at least a smart one? The other day, I pinched Voronov, who was a Master, by the way! A Master! Now I, accordingly, am a Master of Darkness. Okay, maybe not many people know about the Legion, but my accomplishments should speak for themselves.

Enough reasoning — I’ve already started experimenting.

First, I disable their ability to speak — so they don’t make any noise. The bandits silently flap their mouths and wave their machine guns, but they don’t see me, of course. I have done without the telepathic cloak. I’m only using the Cloak of Darkness, which works great at night in thickets. I'm standing nine feet away from them, but the shadows of the trees blend perfectly with my cloak. Now I have perfectly honed my stealth mode. I’ll keep that in mind.

I give the thugs some time: maybe they’ll find an inconsistency in the play of light and shadow or in the lines of the landscape and spot my Cloak, but no, they’ve already abandoned the idea and grabbed their radios. I don’t know how, being mute, they plan to contact their own, but I’m not that interested.

I raise my hand, and a black blade, woven from the Darkness, plunges into the nearest bandit’s eye. The second one frantically tries to open fire on the bushes — aimlessly, with stray shots. But I don’t need the noise. So his fingers fail him, and the machine gun falls from his hands to the ground.

I drop the Cloak and, donning black armor, approach the dumbfounded bandit. He tries to run away, but I cancel that desire with a pinpoint mental sting, and the thug stays in place. A wet spot appears on his pants.

 “Seriously? And how will you react to this?” I snort and throw a narrow veil of Darkness at his eyes. It sticks to his face like glue.

These dimwits showed up just in time for me. Right before the meeting with the Gorgons, which is very important. In theory, nothing prevents me from experimenting with my own guards, but no, I would have disrespected their loyalty with such an act. Even if they might not think so themselves, I have my own opinions and principles. I believe that every person is entitled to an individual approach. People who honestly fulfill their duty warrant respectful treatment. These bandits, on the other hand, quite deserve to become guinea pigs.

The bandit tries to tear the ‘bandage’ from his face, but the cloud of the Darkness doesn’t come off — his chapped fingers simply pass through it. The thug stumbles over a fallen branch, falls, and unexpectedly bursts into silent sobs, curling up into a ball. Oh, for heaven's sake! Who did they send after me?

With a kick of my leg, encased in the Darkness, I send the ‘crybaby’ to the next world — thankfully, the Master has plenty of strength. Then I move towards the next three consciousnesses nearby. I go through the same procedure with them: disable their voice, stand in the Cloak right in front of their noses for a while, then apply blinding, and kill them. Except I choose a different method of killing — with a blade of Darkness. I try to forge a longsword. One swing — and there’s no bandit left.

The sword takes a lot of strength. Therefore, I look warily at Voronov: will the enslaved consciousness rebel? Eduard is still a Master, which means controlling him is much more difficult than the others, in theory. But Voronov looks with an aloof gaze at the corpses of the bandits. Clearly, he’s still in a daze. Though the Gift of Darkness works great. That’s a very interesting point, by the way. Can I put the entire Collection into an indifferent state? Then the possibility of rebellion will disappear by itself. Hmm, let’s consider this later.

A radio crackles to life on the belt of one of the dead men:

“Matroskin, what’s the situation? Haven’t the owners gone to bed yet?”

This isn’t just shameful! It’s a disgrace! Who talks like that on the radio! Our battalion commander would have sent you to clean the cesspool for that! No, wait — you morons would live in that cesspool!

I pick up the radio and say, adjusting to the thug’s drawl:

“Nah, Sharik, nothin’ doin’! They’ve cranked up the music and are partying hard! Might not turn in ‘til the middle of the night.”

Forgive me, Battalion Commander Petrovich, for violating radio discipline. The situation forced me to. I would never, of my own volition, treat the rules of radio communication so poorly.

The bandit on the other end of the line unleashes a string of crude curses, then tells me to keep watching the house. I contact Jelly:

“Jelly, Megamind. Reconnaissance cleared. Head to the highway. Over.”

Half an hour later, it’s all over. The guardsmen swoop down on the vans and mercilessly shoot the bandits. Why would I need prisoners? I’ve already poked around in the thugs’ brains anyway. They were sent by a certain Yegor Smelniy, a local industrialist and criminal kingpin. That’s who I need to deal with tomorrow or the day after. It all depends on how things go with the Gorgon.

The next morning, Jelly wakes me up with a loud knock on the door:

“Boss, the Gorgon! It’s attacked again!”

That decides our agenda for today. We quickly gather the whole group and drive to a small village where the massacre occurred. The royal hunters passed on the address, but they won’t be here anytime soon. They have some kind of trouble with a herd of Toposes. I didn’t quite understand the details, but it doesn’t matter. The main thing is, we’ll arrive first.

We find the house in the village where the Gorgon struck, and the entire convoy pulls up to it. At the crime scene, near the gate, we are greeted by the village constable.

“Who are you?” he asks, suspiciously eyeing the column of jeeps from which we’ve spilled out.

“Danila Veshchy,” I introduce myself to the policeman. “By the baroness’ grace, I am authorized to hunt the beast.”

“I see,” he says, drawing out the words, and places his hand on the holster with his pistol. “Whatever you want, of course, but I won’t let you near the crime scene. Not unless you have permission from the police department.”

Stubborn one, it seems. Behind me, the guardsmen tense up. They clearly don’t like the cop’s tone.

“Reason?” I ask shortly.

“What if you disturb evidence?” the constable remarks. “The royal hunters haven’t arrived yet and haven’t conducted the examination. The crime scene must remain untouched until they arrive, and that’s that.”

I thoughtfully look at the policeman. He’s obstructing me, yet seems genuinely dedicated to his duty — or believes he is. I still respect that.

“Sir,” I say calmly. “Let’s think about the fact that the Gorgon may still be somewhere nearby, and the royal hunters aren’t here yet. Of course, there should already be a small police detail here, but that’s not much of an opponent for the Gorgon. If the creature attacks the locals again, we’re the only force that can stop it,” I point to the armed dozen guardsmen. “So, maybe we shouldn’t quarrel?”

The constable purses his lips and reluctantly removes his hand from his holster.

“What do you want?” he asks through gritted teeth. He doesn’t like me, that’s immediately obvious. Well, nothing he can do about it; the policeman won’t find so many armed soldiers here anyway.

“Answers. When did the attack happen? Did anyone see the Gorgon? Where did it go?”

“Less than an hour ago, neighbors heard screams and animal growls,” the constable replies. “Those who saw the beast didn’t survive. But a shepherd noticed inhuman tracks heading towards the forest,” he points to the edge of the village. “That way.”

“Thank you,” I turn away and walk to the car.

“Aren’t you going to look at the bodies?” I hear the constable’s surprised cry.”

Permission granted already? He changed his mind quickly.

“I prefer to take care of the living,” I reply, jumping into the Tiger.

We follow the fresh tracks to the edge of the village. Searching around, we find the prints of two six-toed paws on the dry ground. It’s unclear where they lead: either circling around the outer yards, or diving into the forest.

“It’s a pity there aren’t any hunting dogs,” Jelly sighs.

I agree with him. A big oversight. I thought the royal hunters would arrive at the same time as us with their hounds, but they ran into Toposes. I don’t have a mental imprint of the beast, so I’ll have to search large areas. A dog would immediately lead in the right direction.

But there’s nothing to be done. I begin a telepathic scan. First of all, I direct the scanner at the nearby streets. The forest can wait. Maybe the Gorgon is still feasting on someone.

The first two dozen houses are empty, their occupants and animals hidden. I take a deep breath and continue scanning, exhausted from searching every nook and cranny. Moreover, it’s easy to confuse an abnormal beast with some kind of cow or goat. I have to double-check.

Suddenly, there’s a plaintive screech of tires, and a blue supercar with the top down comes flying towards us at breakneck speed. The guardsmen instantly fanout, raising their machine guns.

“Stand down,” I raise my hand. “That’s the baron’s daughter, Anastasia Pavlovna. Greet Her Ladyship as she deserves!”

The soldiers obediently straighten up and then immediately bend over. And Nastya lightly jumps out of the car — rosy-cheeked, smiling, in beige mini-shorts and a yellow top. Looking at the young lady, I feel a desire to shiver. The weather’s hardly warm enough for such attire.

The girl looks over the guardsmen who have greeted her with satisfaction, and joyfully jumps towards me, shaking her red curls. She seems so happy. But I’m not in the mood for fun at the moment.

“Nastya, why have you come?” I ask. “It could be dangerous here because of the Gorgon.”

“I know, Danya,” the young lady smiles even wider. “Our guardsmen learned about the attack in the village this morning. And I see that I haven’t come for nothing.”

“Explain, please,” I frown.

“You know, Danya…I couldn’t fall asleep last night,” the shapeshifter shyly puts her hands behind her back. “Different thoughts were floating in my head…”

“Nastya, get to the point, please.”

“Just yesterday evening, our guard reported a herd of Toposes in the north of the barony,” the young lady obediently speeds up. “The royal hunters sent almost all their people there. So, at night, I tossed and turned in bed and suddenly thought, do you even have a tracking dog?” There is a victorious look in her amber eyes. “As soon as I heard that the Gorgon was here this morning, I rushed over. So, don’t be upset. No dog matches a wolf’s nose.”

I ponder what I’ve heard.

“I can’t risk your life.” Nor show you, darling, the abilities of my Collection, sorry.

“And you don’t have to,” the girl shrugs. “I’ll just pick up the scent. As soon as the smell gets stronger, I’ll retreat immediately.”

Hmm, not a bad idea. The Gorgon won’t be able to sneak up unnoticed — Nastya will sense its approach. And it’s also completely unreasonable to turn the young lady back. Right now, this area is the Gorgon’s habitat. It’s possible that the beast will attack Nastya while she’s returning home. A lone girl is a tempting potential victim. Especially one so vulnerable.

“Three conditions,” I toss out. “You stay close to my men. As soon as things get hot, you immediately retreat with Milkcap and Beech back to the car,” I nod to the two nearest guardsmen.

“Of course,” Nastya doesn’t argue.

“We maintain silence while moving,” I continue to instruct. “As soon as you sense the Gorgon nearby, don’t scream, don’t wave your hands, just raise your paw if you’re in wolf form, or a clenched fist — if you’re in human form. Like this,” I show the tactical gesture.

“Got it,” the young lady nods intently.

“Then let’s go.” We can’t delay any longer, or the Gorgon might get away.

Nastya flashes with a bright light and turns into a red she-wolf. Waving her tail at me, she runs to the animal tracks, sniffs, and points her head in the direction.

The group moves out. Milkcap and Beech, following my order, stay close to the she-wolf as she, sometimes pressing her wet black nose to the ground, leads us around the village.

After circling around for several yards, we suddenly turn into the woods. However, the trees don’t last long — almost immediately, a valley begins and a small house appears on the hillside below. It is clearly abandoned, as the roof has caved in and there are no windows.

The she-wolf raises her front paw. The Gorgon is inside.

Milkcap and Beech look back at me. I silently indicate the retreat route with a couple of sharp, emphatic gestures — towards the village, in short. The two guardsmen, along with the she-wolf, immediately hurry where I’ve indicated. Nastya looks at me expectantly with her wolfish eyes in farewell. I nod and smile, as if to say, well done. She immediately wags her red tail happily.

Right, the young lady’s been sent away. Time to upgrade.

I don the Armor of Darkness. Although it’s monstrously energy-intensive and looks like a leather motorcycle suit, it’s flexible and won’t yield in strength to stone mage Dubny’s armor. It’ll last for five minutes of battle.

From the Collection, I also summon the fire mage and Dubny. I snatch a psi-blade out of the air. Now, the full kit. Ready for you, Gorgon. Those extracts will be mine.

At this moment, a guttural roar echoes from the shack. Ah, it has sensed the guests.

Chapter 5. The Predatrix

“Camila, haven’t you heard yet?” Eldar asks, entering his sister’s room. “Why are you so angry?”

The brunette sits at her desk, doing homework. Now, though, she’s scowling and glaring at her algebra textbook.

“Because!” the girl declares, slapping the cover with the mathematical symbols. “He was supposed to study with me! I even had a manège built for this! And instead, he’s taking private lessons with Antonina Pavlovna… with Lena! She’s a beauty! Why is he going to her?”

Eldar looks at his sister with curiosity.

“So, we’re talking about the talented telepath-commoner?” the heir smirks.

“Who else?” Camila shrugs. “And now he’s left town altogether! Skipping school again! How much longer can this go on!”

“It’s certainly sweet that you care about Veshchy’s academic performance,” Eldar remarks, abruptly ceasing to smile. “But right now, you have some serious problems of your own.”

“Problems?” the brunette frowns, turning sharply. “What are you talking about?”

“About the Zyablikovs. Their head called father and demanded that he fulfill the agreement they had made between themselves back in their youth.”

“Oh no!” Camila throws her head back, sitting up straight. “Don’t tell me it’s about…” she trails off in fright.

“About your marriage to Gena, yeah,” Eldar stops smirking. “this union is not beneficial for us in any way. The Zyablikovs have practically gone bankrupt from their investments in peat energy, and and we have no intention of supporting them. But these bankrupts are seriously demanding that we give them the bride with two Gifts. Although your father may be able to get out of his commitment, the price will certainly be high.”

“Gosh, can’t we just spit on this stupid promise?!” Camila rises sharply, carelessly tossing her dark waterfall of hair over one shoulder.

“Don’t speak like that about a nobleman’s word,” Eldar frowns. “It’s a good thing father isn’t here, otherwise he would have already whipped you. And no, we can’t refuse. The promise was given in writing and in front of witnesses. If we refuse the Zyablikovs, they’ll go to our duke, and it could even reach a noble court, where we would lose and be ruined and shamed.”

“So what now! Am I to marry that scoundrel Zyablikov?” the young lady groans, collapsing powerlessly onto the bed. “What were you and father telling me?! If it doesn’t work out with Danila, I would marry either a boyar or even a duke! And now what turns out?! You’re handing me over to a stupid bankrupt clan? Is that what’s happening?!”

She buries her face in the pillow and tries to cope with the overwhelming despondency. Her beautiful shoulders are shaking.

“Well, there is one good thing in all of this,” the heir sums up.

“And what is that?” Camila asks gloomily, lifting her head from the bed.

“Even if father can’t solve the problem with the Zyablikovs the way we want, you’ll still marry a telepath,” Eldar smirks and immediately gets hit in the face with a pillow for excessive irony.

***

The guttural roar repeats. But the self-proclaimed mistress of this abandoned shack is in no hurry to show herself. We take advantage of the predatrix’s modesty. According to the plan, Jelly and the guardsmen swiftly surround the house in a semicircle, throw smoke grenades inside, and simultaneously open fire. A hail of lead rips through the thin walls, some bullets fly into the wide windows.

Of course, firearms don’t scare an orange-level beast. Especially not to the Gorgon, which is bordering on the red level. But, maybe our greeting will tire it out a little. That would also be nice.

The Gorgon appears unexpectedly. The beast simply takes and emerges from the riddled wall. Right now, the creature looks like a translucent silhouette, and it’s hard to make out properly. Only the air ripples slightly in the place of its incorporeal flesh. The magical Gift of the Gorgons is to pass through walls.

The Gorgon, ignoring the bullets that pass through its body, straightens up and surveys us and the guardsmen.

“Cease fire! Fall back!” Jelly barks, and the guardsmen jointly widen the semicircle. I find myself closest to the creature, and it seems to be looking directly at me. Perhaps it considers me a worthy opponent, or perhaps it likes my black outfit. The Darkness is in fashion this season, after all.

I quickly deliver a psionic discharge, but, strangely enough, telepathy doesn’t work. Even though Gorgons are mentally strong, they’re still susceptible to telepathic strikes. Have I missed? No, that’s impossible.

Suddenly, the Gorgon loses its incorporeality, and her body gains color and texture. I am truly surprised! No way! What a lucky guy I am!

Before me stands an anthropomorphic creature. The final stage of the beast’s development. A slender female body is encased in gleaming blue scales. Four arms are crowned with copper claws. Instead of hair, venomous snakes move, hissing, on her head. The Gorgon’s face is also almost feminine, with the exception of sharp, dagger-like fangs, lips as red as blood, and eyes burning with yellow fire.

A Mother. This is a Mother-Gorgon. I’ll have to sweat with this one.

Candy said that a Gorgon-pride is similar to a bee family: a bunch of weak Gorgons in the lower stages of development and one humanoid queen, who is called the Mother. These Mothers are over a couple hundred years old, and over a long life, they transform into a human-like creature and even gain consciousness.

A very interesting specimen. I expected to encounter a typical hissing Gorgon, running on six legs. But here’s a bipedal creature, and with the lithe body of a fitness enthusiast. To be honest, I’m glad!! I’ve never met an anthropomorphic beast before, only heard about them from Candy. Is the snake-haired one intelligent?

“Hel…”

Unfortunately, the Gorgon is not in the mood for talking. With great speed, she attacks me, and I do not even have time to finish speaking. It is a pity.

I release a psi-blast again, and again… a miss? No, something else is going on here.

There’s nothing else to do, we clash in hand-to-hand combat. The Gorgon is certainly fast and strong, and her scales are as strong as steel, but I won’t yield these days either. Right now, I’m wearing the Armor of the Master of Darkness, and having two Gifts in handy! That’s worth a lot!

The beast swings, the copper claws gleam. Before jumping back, I manage to notice a strange black crystal on the Gorgon’s forehead, as if implanted in the frontal bone. Hmm, I haven’t heard anything about crystals from Candy. What is this?

Meanwhile, I respond with a lunge of the psi-blade, but the Gorgon manages to leap away. She looks warily at the lilac light beam in my hand. The predatrix is clearly confused — there’s a direct sense of danger emanating from this thing.

The guardsmen raise net guns. In case of a telepathy failure, we have a backup plan. It’s good that we hedged our bets.

“Fire!” Jelly barks.

A dozen strong steel nets envelop the Gorgon. She immediately takes on an incorporeal form, but the guardsmen send current through the chains leading to the muzzles, and the beast, with a screech, rematerializes into a scaly prisoner. The electric discharge prevents her from passing through the nets.

“Got you, snake-haired,” I say thoughtfully.

But the Gorgon doesn’t lose heart — with a furious roar, she begins to tear the steel bars with her claws. The four-armed creature is doing a pretty good job of it. Shreds of nets fly in all directions.

“Boss, cut her down!” Jelly calls out to me. “She’s about to break free! We need to kill her!”

“I’ll decide that myself. Don’t worry,” I wave off the group leader. “Everything’s under control.”

“As you say…” he says, perplexed.

It’s true, I can always kill her later. For now, I have a few minutes to try and figure out this mystery. I approach the Gorgon writhing in the nets. Her body is, of course, very human and very feminine, even though it’s covered in steel scales. However, first and foremost, I want to examine this strange crystal on her forehead and to take a closer look.

Mental tentacles entwine the beast’s mind, and I feel as if I’m being scalded by a current from the nets. Wow! There are two minds in the Gorgon: one in the predatrix, the other in the crystal. Moreover, the one in the crystal controls the Gorgon’s body. The predatrix is trapped inside her own body, unable to control herself.

Fierce rage and bloodthirst emanate from the crystal mind. It looks like it was this creature that tore up the mountain of corpses. Hmm, and there’s clearly a beast with mental resistance sitting in the stone. My psi-blasts didn’t affect it.

I scratch the back of my helmet in bewilderment. One beast was implanted into another. The crystal is very reminiscent in function of the Zhartserk, curse it! Baroness Jeanne, are these by chance your experiments?!

Well, we’ll guess about that another time. Right now, I need to decide what to do with the Gorgon and her captor. I have no doubt that the snake-haired beast is enslaved. The mental channels of the body are completely intercepted and diverted to the crystal. The Gorgon is forced to watch someone control her. Cruel laboratory experiment, Jeanne Valeryevna. Very cruel. However, you are very cruel too, Your Grace.

“Boss!” Jelly nervously stamps his foot. And it’s clear why — the Gorgon has almost broken free.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get to her now,” I reply.

I have two options: kill the Gorgon or free her. Killing her, of course, is much easier. But I have an iron principle — not to kill the innocent. I’m not some kind of sociopath. The creature in the crystal deserves death, as it has torn people apart and caused bloodshed. However, if the Gorgon has intelligence, why should I kill her? I need to be sure of her intelligence before I take action.

“Are you there, snake-haired beauty?” I try to reach out to her. The beast in the crystal emits a mental growl, but I ignore it.

“A-a-a-ah!” the confused predatrix responds. “Human, are you speaking in my head?”

Intelligent after all. Her thoughts are coherent, which means she’s aware of herself. Amusing.

“That’s right. I’m a telepath, snake-haired.”

“What snake-haired?!” the proud predatrix immediately bristles. “I am the Mother of the brood, human!”

“Pleased to meet you, madam,” I thoughtfully watch as the Gorgon – or whoever is controlling her — tears the last nets with her claws, and I raise the psi-blade. Not long left.

“You are very strong, human, since you were able to evade my claws,” the imprisoned consciousness prattles on.

“Thank you.”

“You can kill me. You have enough strength.”

I raise an eyebrow in surprise, not at the words the received message has turned into, but at the joyful tone. The Gorgon seems to want to die.

“Of course, I do,” I agree. “And I can also save you. Do you want to?”

“What?!” There is a loud roar. I don’t know why her surprise has been reformatted for my perception into such an unusual sound. Apparently, it’s a peculiarity of Gorgon physiology.

“You’ve heard me right,” I say, slowly approaching the beast, who is breaking her bonds, with the psi-blade raised. The last net remains — and the fight begins anew.

I’m not going to save her by force. Let her decide for herself. It’s in my power to rescue the predatrix, only, of course, I’ll have to strain myself a lot and spend more energy than planned. However, why not do this for the sake of saving an innocent life? But again, she needs to want it herself.

“Can you really?” Another guttural roar. Now the Gorgon feels distrust and excitement. Still, my consciousness formats her thought-speech very strangely. If she chooses life, I’ll definitely sort this out later.

“I can. Time’s running out, Snakeling!”

“Snakeling?!” My head almost splits from her furious roar. I have to turn down the volume. “What snakeling am I?! I am the Mother of the Brood!”

I don’t comment. I just wait silently. Although I already know the Gorgon’s answer. Such a proud beast simply cannot surrender. She will always strive to live.

“If you save me, I will serve you,” the answer finally sounds.

Just then, the last net is torn, and the Gorgon rushes at me with a furious roar. I react instantly with the stone mage’s trick: a huge boulder flies towards the beast. The granite chunk hits the Gorgon on the head. She staggers, dazed.

Next, I throw a Mold of Darkness at her snout — or face? — and a piece of darkness sticks to the scales. The Gorgon tries to tear it off with a clawed paw, of course, to no avail. Suddenly, she becomes incorporeal, and a cloud of darkness passes through her.

Well, that’s where fireballs come in handy. As everyone knows, heat and current are the main enemies of the incorporeal. A dozen fireballs explode around the transparent Gorgon, and she jumps away in panic. But she can’t stay in an invulnerable state for long, turning scaly again upon landing. That’s when a ball of Darkness flies at her from me. An explosion occurs, and the shock wave throws the Gorgon backwards.

I move next to the fallen beast. With a guttural roar, the flexible Gorgon jumps up to meet me and receives a psi-blade to the forehead. Right into the crystal.

“Argh!” From this roar, the last leaves fell from the trees.

The Gorgon falls to her knees and howls. Without wasting time, I carry out mental manipulations. Even though the beast in the crystal is mentally invulnerable, that was only until the moment the psi-construct pierced it. Now the psi-blade is my conductor into the creature’s consciousness.

Without hesitation, I tear off the mental channels that enveloped the crystal and transfer them back to the Gorgon’s mind. I do this roughly and painfully, so the Gorgon roars as if she’s being killed. Unfortunately, I simply don’t know how to do it delicately and gently, and quickly at that, and there’s no time for niceties. The effect of the psi-construct isn’t eternal. And the snake-haired beast might not survive a second such ‘operation.’

“Bear with it, Snakeling,” I comfort her at the same time. “I’ll be done soon.”

“You-u-u-u sna-a-a-akeli-i-i-ing!” The wail sounds in my head. “I-I am the Mo-o-o-other of the Bro-o-o-od!”

A smile dances on my lips. Proud predatrix, very proud. Well, we’ll get along. After all, I’m like that myself.

The guardsmen watch in horror as the beast howls and rolls on the ground.

“Why is the boss torturing her like that?” someone quietly asks Jelly. “Why doesn’t he just kill her?”

“Punishing her for killing so many people,” the group leader replies without a trace of doubt.

“O-o-oh, I see.”

Guys, I’m performing surgery here — no time to explain. Never mind, you’ll understand soon enough.

Okay, done with the channels, now I can kill the unknown beast in the crystal. I wonder, what it is. Not a Bigus by chance? It’s awfully rabid. And stupid too.

Several psionic strikes and the creature dies, and the black crystal fades to white. The Gorgon lifts her head from the ground and exhales in relief.

“Boss, you’re not going to kill her?” the guardsmen say, perplexed, raising their weapons.

“I’m not,” I turn to them, otherwise they might shoot. “I’ll give her a chance. Explanations later.”

Under my stern gaze, the guardsmen freeze and slightly avert their barrels. I watch the Gorgon expectantly. She stands up, staggering — flexible and remarkably tall. Now, after the battle, the peculiarities of her physique are noticeable. She is a scaly woman with snakes wriggling on her head like living creatures, snapping their small jaws.

“Mazaka,” a guttural sound comes from the intelligent beast’s throat.

The Gorgon comes up to me and unexpectedly squats on one knee, and then kisses my hand.

“Mazaka, maf Mazaka, bozaza s.”

I have to dive into her head to understand what I heard:

“Human, my human, as promised, from now on the Mother of the Brood serves you.”

Chapter 6. Rest Up, Ride Out

“Get the owner,” Jelly says as he barges into a small roadside diner.

The place is empty, except for a chubby waiter standing at the counter. But the chubby guy immediately wakes up when the café fills with a bunch of armed guardsmen. They brazenly lower the blinds and sweep through the back rooms. Meanwhile, the hulk, Grim, who remains at the entrance, flips the door sign to ‘Closed.’

“Clear, Commander,” reports the scanner, Horror, frozen in the middle of the hall. “No other minds detected.”

“What are you doing?” the terrified waiter squeals. “This is my café!”

The man is, of course, afraid for his life, his knees are shaking, but he is even more afraid of losing his property, which he has been saving up for ten years.

“We’re renting your café,” Jelly throws a thick stack of banknotes on the counter. “For the whole night. We don’t need you. Now scram!”

Now that’s a different story! The chubby guy scoops the decent sum into his pocket and, bowing, hurries to the door. Even if the men wreck everything here, this money will be enough for him to make a major overhaul and still have enough left for a vacation in Sochi!

“One moment,” suddenly Jelly’s hand falls on the escaping chubby guy’s shoulder. “Not so fast! First, where’s the dessert fridge?”

***

The guardsmen drag me out of the car and almost carry me to some roadside diner. The Blue Gorgon walks alongside with a slithering gait, sometimes hissing something like:

“Mazaka, obshi shsh.”

I don’t know what Snakeling is saying, and I have no desire to look into her head. I hope she’s not threatening to devour me, because she promised to serve me and even kissed my hand. No, I’m not a complete vegetable. If I mobilize my reserves, I can still wave a psi-blade, but then I’ll be out of commission for two weeks. So, for now, let’s hold back on the telepathy.

The exorcism session took more power than I anticipated. My brain feels fried, my energy reserves are depleted, and my body refuses to obey. I need energy, I need carbohydrates to charge my brain, but there’s no glucose in the forest. The guardsmen dragged me to the car, the Gorgon perched next to me as if she owned it. Jelly, who had jumped into the front, glanced at her, then at tired me, and asked:

“Boss, is she tame now or something?”

“Cakes,” I croaked in response. “I need cakes.”

And also, fish, meat, slow-digesting carbohydrates, fatty acids, fruits containing B vitamins. I need a lot of everything. But first, glucose, of course. An average person’s brain uses twenty percent of the body’s energy, and I used all eighty today. Because of that, my body broke down proteins and amino acids to replenish lost energy. Now I need to replace what I’ve used.

“Understood,” Jelly nodded, and soon the convoy moved.

“One more thing… Snakeling needs to be dead to everyone else,” I pointed to the four-armed Gorgon, who was lounging next to me. “Clear?”

“Order understood,” Jelly said.

At the café, they seat me at a table by the window. The blinds are down, the staff have been dismissed, and that’s good. The baroness doesn’t need to know that her experimental beast now serves me. Let everyone think Snakeling is destroyed, at least for a while.

They put cream éclairs in front of me, then other dishes follow.

Snakeling drops down opposite me and stares intently into my eyes:

“Mazaka, mousse kus kus?” the Mother of the Brood asks.

“That’s right, tasty kus,” I throw an éclair into my mouth whole and chew the sweetness with relish. Fast carbohydrates are exactly what I need after frantic mental and physical work. “Try some.”

Looking at me suspiciously, the Gorgon takes an éclair, cautiously sniffs it from all sides, then her sharp fangs bite into the soft pastry. Snakeling jumps in surprise and licks her lips with a forked tongue.

“Mousse kus!” the predatrix exclaims with delight.

“I know,” I nod and push a plate of fried salmon towards her. “But it’s better to eat normal food.”

The fish pleases the Gorgon even more than the éclair. Purring with delight, she also feeds her snakes small pieces. Having satisfied myself with fast carbohydrates, I move on to slow ones. The body receives energy and carbohydrates, and that’s great. I also ‘turn on’ the Physiquemage’s consciousness to accelerate metabolism many times over. Therefore, the absorption of proteins takes place in minutes.

This is the real power of the Legion. Not just to use other people’s Gifts, but to create synergy from the combined use of two or more types of magic. The Physiquemage’s Gift alone is not that ‘wow.’ But it’s ideal for bringing the body to combat readiness even after powerful exhaustion.

“Phew, good,” I say with satisfaction, watching Snakeling lick a kiwi and then hiss at it because it burns her tongue and lips.

I decide to talk to my pet. So far, the only possible way is telepathy. Later, Lena and I will try to teach the Gorgon Russian. I don’t know how adapted the predatrix’s larynx is to human speech, but at first glance, Snakeling’s physiology, despite all her alienness and predatory nature, is very feminine.

“How are you feeling, Snakeling?”

“I am the Mother of the Brood,” the Gorgon objects, but without much anger, more out of stubbornness. “Call me Mother, human!”

“Sorry,” I smirk. “But I already have a mother, so you’ll be Snakeling.”

“Argh… Fine, you’ve saved me, call me what you want.”

She crosses her middle pair of arms over her chest, showing how much she dislikes it. Is she really over two hundred years old? Too capricious. However, Candy doesn't look or act like someone who is three hundred years old either.

For the next twenty minutes, I find out details about the Gorgon’s biography and her worldview. You see, the word ‘service’ can be interpreted in different ways. What if she suddenly decides to attack anyone who gives me an unfriendly look, or wants to cut me open for another ‘Snakeling.’ Without stopping eating, I continue the mental dialogue with the predatrix, and also rummage through her memories.

First of all, I’m interested in how the fake Zhartserk was implanted into her head. It couldn’t have been done without Blood magic. And what a coincidence — the baron is rumored to own it.

Unfortunately, I’m disappointed. The Gorgon doesn’t remember the laboratory experiments, nor does she remember her captors. Either her memory was wiped, or the experimenters were very careful.

But there is also some good news about Snakeling, or rather, about her character. She is not an angel like Candy. She is a cruel, merciless predator, but she has her own harsh principles. She doesn’t touch cubs and always protects her pack. She does whatever she can to survive and protect her family. I won’t be able to train Snakeling, or rather, I myself will not do it: after all, she is intelligent, and this will not be training, but a rewriting of personality, that is, in essence, murder. I didn't save her to kill her.

Fortunately, Snakeling is trainable and easily assimilates new habits when necessary. I will work with the Gorgon by instilling new behavioral patterns.

“From now on, I am your leader,” I give the first mental instruction.

“Since I serve you, yes,” the Gorgon easily agrees, stuffing cod into both cheeks.

That’s excellent. Matriarchy is in the past for the Gorgon, and although there is still a lot of work ahead, a start has been made.

Then I receive a message from Nastya:

Danya, are you okay?

The shapeshifter has been home for a long time. Milkcap and Beech didn’t participate in the hunt, but accompanied the girl to the very doorstep of her manor, otherwise she might have returned and found me in the Armor of Darkness. I treat Nastya well, but she remains the baroness’ daughter, and for young ladies, family comes first. I don’t condemn it at all, I even respect such an approach, and when I become a nobleman, I will instill the same principles in my children.

I reply to Nastya that I am fine, and also that the Gorgon will no longer bother the baron. I put the phone aside and ponder, watching Snakeling open a banana with her claws.

“Everything alright, boss?” Jelly approaches the table, cautiously glancing at the Gorgon. “Recovered?”

“Yeah, more or less,” I push away the plate with a pile of gnawed wings. I don’t even remember managing to gnaw them so clean. I urgently slow down my metabolism, or I’ll never get full. “We’ll go rest now, sleep for two hours, and at night we’ll head out to Tagil.”

“After the bandits’ client?” the group leader guesses.

“More like the intermediary. We don’t know the ultimate client yet.”

“The guys will be ready,” Jelly nods.

That’s good. Unlike me, they didn’t get too worn out in the battle with the Gorgon. They mostly played the role of a support group. But I’ve almost recovered, I just need to doze off for a couple of hours and I’ll be as good as new.

Ugh, Nastya’s calling again.

“She’s persistent,” I sigh, twirling the phone in my hand. “She just doesn’t want to let the victorious vanquisher of the bloodthirsty Gorgon get the rest he deserves.”

After these words, Snakeling looked at me so suspiciously, as if she understood what I’ve said.

***

“Mother, Danila has dealt with the Gorgon,” as a dutiful daughter, Nastya obediently comes to report the important circumstance to the baroness.

“Quickly,” Jeanne exhales in amazement, then looks sternly at her husband, who is standing nearby. “I thought he would chase after her for at least a week. Pasha, did the Gorgon accurately correspond to the level of a professional eliminator in your classification?”

“Absolutely, my dear,” the offended Baron declares. “We have developed a rigid system of ranks for our future puppet-beasts. The Gorgon met all the parameters of the third rank of eliminator. Otherwise, she would not have been able to escape from the cell!”

Not reacting to her husband’s words in any way, Jeanne turns to her daughter.

“How many people did Veshchy lose in the hunt?”

“On the phone, he said that all of his guards were alive,” Nastya replies. “No one died, Danila himself is also safe and sound, only his voice is tired.”

Jeanne presses her plump lips in amazement. The baron raises his eyebrows. He, too, underestimated the guy, and how wrong he was! What a bandit! Only guardsmen can handle him! The destruction of Voronov was not an accident, as Pavel initially believed. He thought that Eduard had blundered or been framed. Anything can happen in battle. But no — the guy is not only a talented telepath, but also has a few more tricks up his sleeve.

“Is my savior already mastering the Swarm?” the baroness says thoughtfully. “Pasha, wasn’t the beast-donor immune to telepathy?”

“Complete mental resistance,” Pavel confirms. “Except for psi-weapons, of course. But even a dozen psi-blade strikes would hardly be enough to bring down specimen fourteen.”

“A mystery,” the baroness says, touching her finger to her lower lip. “My savior surprises again. He is not only a skillful telepath, but also an amazing fighter!” she declares with strange delight. “A true Owlson! Just like Kenner!”

“Well, don’t overpraise this commoner, my dear,” Gornorudov grimaces. “It is very possible that Veshchy has a seasoned combat-mage among his guardsmen, and more than one. After all, his father is a royal hunter, he probably picked fighters for him.”

“Anything is possible,” Jeanne doesn’t argue, though her eyes show which version she adheres to. And this is insanely annoying to Gornorudov.

All this time, Nastya modestly stands aside and waits for them to dismiss her.

“Daughter, you’ve certainly disappointed me,” the baroness suddenly pronounces accusingly.

Taken by surprise, the girl grabs the belt of her leather shorts.

“Why, Mom?” she asks in a quiet voice, guiltily lowering her head.

“Since you rushed to the village without my permission, you could have at least watched the fight between Veshchy and the Gorgon,” the baroness fidgets irritably in her chair. “But you came back with nothing.”

“Danila ordered his people to escort me back,” the girl justifies herself. “I couldn’t run away from them.”

“Darling, don’t be angry with Nastya. At least our little girl wasn’t hurt,” Pavel interjects. “That’s much more important.”

The baroness only rolls her eyes:

“What would have happened to her? The donor-beast is cowardly and only touches defenseless victims if it is not provoked… By the way,” Jeanne suddenly becomes interested and crosses her legs. “You said that the savior took care of you? What kind of relationship do you have with him?”

“We are friends, mom,” Nastya blushes. “What other kind of relationship could we have?”

“Hmm, have you forgotten that he is an Owlson?” Jeanne raises a delicately arched eyebrow. “And that the Owlsons are dukes, once the most powerful in the kingdom? And that I need access to the Owlsons’ estate?”

“No, I remember,” the ashamed shapeshifter replies. “But Danila is only a bastard.”

“For now, yes, but you need to look beyond your nose, sweetheart,” Jeanne chuckles, then waves her hand briefly. “You’re free, Nastya. At your leisure, think about how to get closer to Veshchy. That would help us greatly.”

“I already have an idea, mom,” the young lady suddenly raises her chin. “I will return to study in Moscow and meet with Danila every time he flies in. He has a Valentino headquarters in the capital, and he will soon enter a metropolitan university.”

“That’s a good thought,” Jeanne approves, after thinking about it. “Then prepare to return to Moscow.”

Nastya smiles happily, since has been still able to please her strict mother. When the girl leaves, Gornorudov croaks like an old raven:

“What about Mitovich?”

“Some count is no match for a duke,” the baroness makes a skeptical face. “Especially a Duke Owlson,” she smiles dreamily. “You must understand that yourself, darling.”

Gornorudov understands. And he understands how much the damn pup is increasingly annoying him.

***

A couple of hours of sleep turns into four. No, I didn’t oversleep; it was a conscious decision. After all, two hours is not enough if I don’t use the Physiquemage’s Gift. But now it’s not about me. Not all of my guardsmen are Physiquemages. And it’s better for them to be cheerful and in good shape. After all, it’s night outside.

I wake up to the alarm and notice Snakeling nestled at my feet. The four-armed predatrix is curled up in a ball and snores like a child. How does her spine bend like that?

I wake her, and while she stretches and yawns with her fanged mouth, I have a short heart-to-heart with her:

“Snakeling…”

“I am the Mother of the Brood…” she yawns.

“…before going to bed, I forgot to ask you about one thing. Now I will go to kill my enemies. Will you come with me to fight?”

The Gorgon shrugs her scaly shoulders and growls unhappily:

“Faka maza, kir ba bash? Khuri uzh!”

I look into her head for a translation:

“Human, why these questions? You are the leader! So lead!”

I didn’t expect another answer, considering her warlike and, in some ways, noble character.

A quarter of an hour later, my guardsmen and I get into the jeeps and drive to Tagil. It’s time to find out the name of the one who disliked me so much. And at the same time, clean the glorious Ural city of organized crime a little.

We’ll start, of course, with the intermediary, about whom Sergey sent me more detailed information. Yegor Smelniy, a local crime boss, isn’t a nobleman, but that doesn’t stop him from flaunting a ring belonging to a guardsman of the Gornorudovs. Yegor is essentially the manager of the guardsman’s affairs, and therefore has the right to wear his coat of arms.

But the coat of arms and the position of manager are just a front for his criminal activities. Yegor is entrusted with the kind of dirty work the guardsmen can’t handle without tarnishing their image, that’s all. This time, that dirty work seems to be assassinating Danila Veshchy. And Yegor failed miserably.

Chapter 7. Mental Hoarding

Smelniy’s cottage is located in an industrial district, in the heart of a neighborhood populated by middle-class wealthy people. The house immediately catches the eye: golden gates, a blood-red roof, vintage windows with mosaics. Yegor clearly enjoys being the center of attention, and that’s a good thing: in the wild, we would be lit up on the scanners that are surely present in his security system. I, unfortunately, can’t hide other people from scanning, only myself. Well, not yet. Perhaps there are loopholes in Vasya’s ability. The Basilisk is a solitary beast, so the red-maned snake simply didn’t develop techniques useful for packs. I assume that his mental invisibility has much greater potential. I’ll see, for now I’m working with what I have.

“What’s the strategy, boss?” Jelly asks businesslike, loading his carbine.

I quickly check the perimeter. Hmm, only five people. It would be a sin not to take advantage of this.

“Wait for now. I’m the first to go on a security sweep,” I give the order. “As soon as I take out the patrols, I’ll call you. You will climb over the wall in the place I indicate. The cameras won’t see you — you will be under the Cloak of Darkness. You should only fear the scanners, but I will remove them already.”

“Excellent plan,” Jelly notes. “Boss, tell me honestly, have you served somewhere?”

“Not in this life, unless you count the time, I participated in a forest hike at the Orlyonok children’s camp,” I indulge in distant memories for a moment. Sveta, Grisha, and I were still an inseparable trio back then. There was also this hilarious thing that happened: Sokolova stumbled upon an anomalous skunk, and the whole camp ran away from it. Ah, those were fun times. “We also learned how to pitch tents there.”

Jelly looks at me offended. No, that won’t do. The one thing I shouldn’t do is hurt his pride. The man is trying hard, keeps the guys in line and doesn’t give them any slack. And I’m telling him about tents.

“Maybe I’ll share it later,” I say conciliatory. “Now is not the time or place.”

“Understood,” his gaze softens.

“Faka mazaka?” the Gorgon snarls, extending her bronze claws. The snakes on her head writhe excitedly. “Mash bash po fak-fak sana fof beech kum bendal magam!”

The translation sounds something like this:

“Soon, human, will the battle begin? I can’t wait to gut your enemies and eat their livers!”

She also licks her lips carnivorously, so the group leader shudders in horror.

“I’m going on reconnaissance. Obey my mazaka,” I nod at the pale Jelly. “While I’m gone, he’s the leader.”

“There can only be one leader. You,” the predator remarks. “Is he your senior warrior?”

“Let’s say so.”

The Gorgon isn’t pleased to hear that. She doesn’t like to wait. Jelly is even more upset when he finds out that the four-armed beast is under his command. He has never trained such a soldier before. Well, yes, there will certainly be problems understanding each other, but let them get used to it, and who will have it easy now?

I slip out of the car and, covered by the Darkness and turning on Vasya’s ‘mental invisibility,’ I climb over the wall. Taking out the sentries doesn’t take long. This time I don’t waste time on experiments. I have come here for business. Psi-blade into the eye socket and on to the next one. Quickly, quietly, almost without hiding. The cameras can’t see me, even with night vision. I learned this from Eduard’s memories. The infrared spectrum of light isn’t able to pierce the Darkness. Aha, just some kind of magic, literally.

Among the sentries, I come across a scanner. I simply knock him out with a blow from a stone and tie him with knots of the Darkness. The bonds will last a couple of hours, and no more is needed. After all, by this time the man will replenish my Collection. Or he will just die. The final decision depends on his background. If the man has lived the life of a frostbite — killed women, raped, etc. — I won’t spare him. He won’t get off with an easy death. If he simply carried out his duty and carried out orders, even if he stained his hands in blood, I won’t enslave him.

Having finished with the patrol, I call Jelly via psi-link, and Snakeling separately, otherwise she won’t understand him. When the group approaches the wall, I cover the fighters with the predatrix with a black shroud, and they climb over the wall. The group storms the house: smoke grenades, intrusion through windows and doors, massive fire. Everything is according to standard clearing tactics, when the main task is to neutralize opponents through surprise, speed, and firepower.

I participate without sticking out from the rear of the squad: I knock out opponents ahead with psi-strikes. But Snakeling is rocking it at the head of the squad. Judging by what I see with mental vision, the Gorgon has entered a rage. As soon as an enemy mind lights up near her, it immediately goes out — not even a second passes.

I also take care of the innocent. It’s good that I spot them in time. At my order, a couple of women in one of the bedrooms upstairs are not killed, but only put to sleep with chloroform-soaked cloths.

Not even five minutes of a rapid raid pass before Jelly contacts me on the radio:

“Megamind, Jelly. All floors clear. Target in basement, locked in bunker. Over.”

Now this is interesting.

Soon, we, along with the rest of the group, except for the posted patrolmen, gather in the basement and look at the impenetrable steel door from the bank vault. I even knock my fist against the solid surface — it sounds muffled, like hitting a tank. Solid iron.

“Too bad we don’t have bombs,” Jelly sighs. “But even that wouldn’t help. This is a safe door. I’ve seen them before — they’re impossible to break through.”

“Mazaka!” Snakeling growls displeasedly, waving all four clawed arms. The guardsmen nearby hasten to move away from her, although they are already keeping a respectable distance and not turning their backs. “Muz kaanaza nersti go! Banga! Kala buch! Khuri faka?!”

“Human! What are we waiting for? There is no physical barrier for me! Let me in there! I will kill everyone in your name!”

That’s a thought, of course. But I’m a little worried about her. Especially since there are four gifted ones with shields inside the bunker, and one of them is Yegor Smelniy. Can the Gorgon handle such a crowd in a confined space?

“How did Snakeling perform during the assault?” I ask Jelly.

“Oh, boss, she was amazing!” the guardsman doesn’t hold back his delight. “I've never seen anyone like her! She turned two physiquemages into mincemeat in two touches! And she drove six more machine gunners through herself like a meat grinder — her arms were spinning in such a frantic mill that it was impossible to make out!”

I see that the guardsmen have begun to look at Snakeling with even greater apprehension and respect. In the battle with me, she could not fully show her lethality, but here, unleashed, her true destructive power is on full display.

Jelly’s praise decides everything. After thinking about it for a bit, I come up with a plan. Decided and signed. Snakeling goes inside, but first a preliminary briefing and preparation.

First of all, I explain to the Gorgon: if things get too hot, she must leave immediately. The concept of ‘retreat’ is given with difficulty to the fearless predatrix, but she has to come to terms with the order. The second instruction: if possible, don’t kill Smelniy, only wound him. And the third is to obey my psi-orders.

I touch the safe door with both hands and launch the Darkness inside, as much as possible. The Darkness has no physical embodiment; therefore no pile of metal will stop it. Judging by how closely the minds huddled behind the door, the bunker is just a small room, and therefore it is not difficult to fill it with the concentrated Darkness.

I give a mental go-ahead to Snakeling, and the Gorgon, abruptly becoming incorporeal, dives through the door. She finds herself in complete darkness, but the scaly beauty doesn’t get lost — I give her a mental map of where each mind is standing. The massacre begins. My predatrix cuts the mages like sausages, and the mental screams of the Gorgon’s victims reach my perception.

Yegor’s people are trying to fight back. Through Snakeling’s eyes, I see flashes of fire and lightning in the darkness. I have to strain to launch more Darkness into the bunker. But still, the gloom is no longer pitch-black. Magic has collided with magic. However, the bandits inside realized it too late. Snakeling has already killed almost everyone. She efficiently combines inhuman speed, incorporeality, crawling on the ceiling and walls, and attacks from dark corners where the light of fireballs has not yet reached.

In a matter of seconds, the slaughter ends. Only two minds remain in the iron room — the unharmed Snakeling and a half-dead blood mage.

With a prolonged, loud creak, the safe door opens. A joyful Snakeling comes out of the lightened bunker: all covered in blood, grinning widely, her yellow eyes burning like a cat’s.

“Mazaka, pir bi faka,” the Gorgon proudly puffs out her large breasts.

But the guardsmen were wary of looking at her as a woman. I understand them perfectly — veterans, of course, have seen everything, but everyone wants to live.

“Well done!” I mentally caress the predatrix, and she even purrs.

Soon the guardsmen drag the torn Yegor from the corpse-filled bunker. After scanning him, I clap my hands with joy. He’s a blood mage. What luck! He doesn’t have much time left to live, so I hasten to conduct a session of immersion into the astral. I have to lie down on the dirty floor, but I’m not a noble yet, so I can endure some inconveniences.

Capturing Yegor’s mind, diving inside and back, I become a possessor of the Blood Gift. Although the level of power is only the second rank of Warrior, the Gift is specific and very interesting. So now I have an awesome trump card up my sleeve. Everyone knows what to expect from a Fire Master, but few in the heat of battle are able to predict what kind of feature a weak blood mage will throw out. So, I’ve seized the Gift without hesitation. Especially since Yegor is quite the frostbite. The list of ‘exploits’ he has is huge — from rapes to the extermination of entire families of business competitors.

Returning, I immediately order them to bring the tied scanner from the courtyard. The guy also turns out to be quite the moral scoundrel, which is not surprising. In addition to everything, he also beats his own wife, the scum. Which means he’ll go into my piggy bank! That is, into my Collection!

Having finished with the scanner, I, tired but satisfied, get up from the floor and stagger slightly. The vigilant Snakeling supports me with three hands, for which I am very grateful.

“Clean up the cameras,” I order Jelly.

“The server has already been burned, boss,” the vigilant group leader nods.

“Good. Now we’ll rest a little and move on to the next one,” I smirk.

Snakeling also grins widely after me, and the sight of her bloody grimace makes the nearest guardsmen suddenly feel bad. Oh, and before leaving, we should wash the Gorgon, otherwise she’ll stain the inside of the car, and cars are rented, after all!

“This time to the customer?” Jelly guesses.

“Possibly,” I shrug. “Or maybe another intermediary. When we arrive, we will find out. Our target number ‘two’ is the baronial guardsman Zhbanov.”

“A guardsman?” the astonished commander repeats.

“Yeah, so this time we’ll have to sweat,” I assume. “But that’s not for sure.”

***

“Yes?” Baron Gornorudov answers an incoming call, sitting in his office and looking through a jewelry catalog. Pavel has just been choosing something to please his beloved wife. This pearl necklace would perfectly suit her beautiful eyes …

“Pavel Timofeyevich, good evening! I’m sorry to bother you, but an unpleasantness has occurred,” Guardsman Zhbanov says with a sigh. “Remember, you gave the task to eliminate Veshchy through an intermediary?”

“I remember you failed,” the Baron snorts.

“I ask for forgiveness,” Zhbanov hurries to add. “But the thing is, it seems that Veshchy found out the name of the intermediary.”

“It seems?” Pavel asks again.

“The intermediary was killed about two hours ago. He was supposed to carry out one operation for me, I called to request a report, and when I couldn’t get through, I sent a man to him, but… his entire house was cleared, only the intermediary’s wife and mistress remained alive.”

“Did they see the attackers?” Pavel squeezes the phone.

“They only saw fighters without insignia. The video surveillance server was destroyed. There is one more curious thing. The intermediary and his entourage clearly tried to hide in the basement bunker, but either they didn’t have time to slam the door shut, or the locking mechanism failed.”

“What is so curious about that?” the baron doesn’t understand.

“Perhaps the attacker prepared in advance and somehow stalled the device…”

“I don’t give a damn about this bunker!” Pavel doesn’t hold back. “Veshchy is a telepath, that’s what’s important! Did you meet with the intermediary in person?”

“Yes…”

“Where are you now?”

“At my home. Your Grace, I can quickly find other groups to eliminate Veshchy.”

“We’ll decide that soon. Wait for me. I’ll come to you now and together we’ll think about how to get out of this mess.”

“Yes, Pavel Timofeyevich,” the guardsman reports.

***

In the deep of night, we approach the country house of guardsman Zhbanov. I managed to dig up some information about him through Sergey. It turns out Zhbanov is a veteran who has earned personal nobility. ‘Personal’ means it is not hereditary and therefore not recorded in genealogical books. This system was established to break the insularity of the noble class and grant access to people from lower social standings.

Zhbanov doesn’t possess any significant resources. It’s possible that the baron only took him into service for the sake of his noble status. This has become a trend among the higher aristocrats. Yes, Zhbanov is still a nobleman, albeit not by descent, and theoretically, I mustn’t kill him. Therefore, it would be best to capture him alive and drag him to the baroness for her to deal with.

“Boss, can’t we just complain about him to the baroness?” Jelly asks, peering through the window at the two-story house behind the high wall. “I think Gornorudova should be more than loyal to you. After all, you saved her from the Gorgon,” he adds, casting a sidelong glance at the freshly cleaned Snakeling.

The clean Snakeling is yet another reason for our delay. The washing process took longer than expected. The shower was a novelty for the Gorgon, and I had to wash her myself while she hissed at the hose.

“I want to know my enemy face to face,” I reply. “The enemy who set Zhbanov on me, assuming it wasn’t his own initiative. And Gornorudova, after considering my complaint, might not tell me the truth. She’s a very cunning woman.”

“Understood, boss,” Jelly says, nodding. “The defenses here are clearly stronger than at Smelniy’s. Let’s hope there aren’t any turrets.”

“We need to scout...” I don’t get to finish my sentence before a mental image of a man with a goatee appears before me.

Just in case, I cover Snakeling with a mental shield to keep the stranger from detecting her. Although I had already set express shields for her, I didn’t expect that among Zhbanov’s people there could be a telepath. Telepathy is a very expensive luxury, even for hereditary nobles.

“Danila Veshchy, greetings,” the translucent figure nods. “Baron Gornorudov wishes to see you immediately.”

A telepathic messenger, then. Quite original.

“Where?”

“At Zhbanov’s,” he replies just as the gates of the house swing open. “The baron is waiting for you alone.”

The image dissipates.

Well, this is interesting. The Gornorudovs must have a copy of my matrix; otherwise, it would have been nearly impossible for the telepath to find me. Ah, Jeanne Valeryevna, you sly fox. Though, I have your copy as well.

“What the hell?!” Jelly curses, staring at the open passage.

“Faka,” Snakeling echoes, narrowing her eyes.

“The assault is off,” I say, opening the door and stepping out of the car. “Wait here. The baron is in the house and he wants to see me.”

“Unexpected,” Jelly remarks.

“Sana aff bicha,” Snakeling agrees.

“Wait for further instructions,” I command.

I mentally duplicate the order for the Gorgon, then turn and walk through the open gates. It’s not good to keep the baron waiting. He clearly has something to tell me.

Chapter 8. Acquisitions

Two guardsmen with shields meet me just inside the gates. They carry machine guns and are encased in gear with sewn-in aramid armor plates. Each has an embroidery of the baronial coat of arms on their right shoulder.

“Hand over your weapons,” the fighters demand, walking towards me. The machine guns are aimed at my torso.

Wow, what a greeting! I see, the baron expects nasty surprises from me. That means I should expect the same from him too.

“I can’t,” I sigh demonstratively. “I’m a telepath, my main weapon is in my skull.”

But my honesty is not appreciated.

“You have a holster on your belt,” the guardsman pokes the barrel at my stomach. “Open the flap, take the pistol with two fingers and drop it on the ground.”

“What if the safety is not off?” I tease. “Still drop it?”

“What are you talking about?!” my forced interlocutor snarls, losing patience. “Who carries a weapon without the safety on?!”

“Let’s say I forgot to flip the switch,” I suggest, shrugging. “We just came from the battle, tired, sweaty. Honestly, I don’t remember when the pistol even returned to the holster.”

The guardsmen exchange glances and take a couple of steps back from me just in case.

Of course, I’m taunting them and lying brazenly. Firstly, we rested a little. And secondly, during the assault on Smelniy’s house, I never drew my gun. Why would I need it, a telepath with several Gifts? A psi-blast is much faster than a bullet. I carry weapons more out of an old military habit, it just feels more comfortable.

“Slowly put the pistol on the ground,” the second one raises his voice, who is clearly fed up with our whole conversation. “The baron is waiting for you! Hurry up!”

Oh, he shouldn’t have said that. He should have watched his words.

“So, slowly or should I hurry?” I smile.

“Slowly,” the guardsman gives in, lowering his machine gun slightly. “Sir, I hope you have no more questions?”

Questions? That’s simple naivety! Damn it, guys, I can talk to you until morning.

“Actually, I have a couple. Tell me, is it true that a tiger has striped skin…”

The radio of the right guardsman wakes up and the shift supervisor starts yelling at him using foul language. He asks what the heck he’s doing standing on the street talking to the guest for ten minutes. Does he want a reprimand? Quickly let the guest through! The baron is waiting!

The scolded guardsmen look at me with almost tearful eyes, and I decide to take pity on the poor guys. I take out the pistol and, taking it by the barrel, I hand it to the right guardsman. He takes the weapon with a sigh. After he checks the safety just in case — spoiler: it is raised — we move into the house.

I am led into the living room, where a slightly smelly corpse in a business suit lies on a beige carpet. A little further away, an unhappy baron is lounging in an armchair.

“It’s taken you too long, Veshchy,” he grumbles.

“You have attentive guards, Pavel Timofeyevich,” I reply with a smile. “They’ve examined me very thoroughly.”

I’m smiling, but I don’t forget about caution — I keep Voronov’s and Dubny’s consciousness ‘switched on.’ The corpse on the carpet, to which the baron does not even pay attention, is very alarming to me.

“Too bad, but nothing can be done,” Gornorudov snorts. “A protocol is a protocol.”

“Of course,” I don’t argue. “And Mr. Zhbanov won’t join us?”

“He has already joined,” the baron snorts, nodding at the body. “I was just talking to him when you burst in. It turns out that Zhbanov didn’t like you, Veshchy. He strongly disliked you.”

“It’s surprising, Your Grace. After all, we’ve never even met,” I politely remark.

“It’s enough that you resurrected Jeanne and got the Valentino,” the baron puts his feet on the coffee table. “This is a banal personal dislike, Veshchy. It happens.”

“So, Zhbanov himself sent the bandits after me?” I clarify. “No one gave him such orders?”

“That’s right, that’s what I meant,” the baron states irritably. “As you can see, I’ve punished Zhbanov. You no longer have enemies in my retinue.”

A scam for a sucker, of course. It has a bad smell, and I'm not talking about the smell of a corpse at all. The baron is either covering up for someone else, or he is trying to avoid getting caught red-handed himself.

“Did you kill Zhbanov?”

“With my own hands,” Gornorudov nods. He gets up and holds out his hand to me. “I hope you don’t hold a grudge against my barony? Your help is invaluable. Thanks to you, my wife is alive, and the subjects no longer need to fear the Gorgon. I’ll be honest — I would be happy to have a son like you, Danila!”

He persistently holds out his hand to me. I remember that the baron is a blood mage, which means he is able to influence the circulatory system through touch. Is this a trap? Well, then, of course, I’ll shake it! Only first, I’ll activate my blood mage’s consciousness just in case.

I step forward and firmly squeeze Pavel’s hand:

“Your Grace, do you really want to thank me again?” I grin shamelessly in his face.

“Um… Of course, Danila,” he is initially confused by my pressure, then grins quite genuinely and even gloatingly. “The reward will be worthwhile, believe me!”

We both squeeze our hands harder and smirk at each other’s faces. We must look like best friends.

“Another company?” I steer his thoughts in the direction I need. “Which one?”

“How about the Rabis?” the baron winks.

“A well-known clothing brand,” I nod.

“It’s yours,” Pavel generously allows, releasing my hand.

“Thank you,” I calmly reply, simultaneously listening to myself. I turned on the mind of blood mage Yegor even before the handshake, so my circulatory system obediently responds to the diagnosis.

I don’t feel any effect yet. So, I’ve received a delayed strike, which is logical. The baron is a Blood Grandmaster, I can’t compete with him in hand-to-hand combat yet. Well, or at least, he should think so. Since Pavel hasn’t attacked immediately, it’s clear that he set up some kind of trap.

“Rabis, then,” I repeat with emphasis. “I remembered.”

“Oh, get out of here. He remembered it, heh,” the baron waves me away kindly. “A nobleman’s word, you know, is iron. Since I said it, the company is yours. Tomorrow I’ll tell the lawyers to transfer it.”

“Thank you for the gift,” I don’t even bother to nod at him. I just turn around and walk away.

***

“What an arrogant pup,” Pavel says with a smirk, watching Veshchy leave. “Well, be arrogant while you can, you don’t have much time left anyway.”

Gornorudov’s mood improved. Even the stinking corpse doesn’t spoil it at all. Of course, Zhbanov had to be sacrificed, but only he himself was responsible for that. He should have covered his tracks better. Two. In such situations, one needs at least two intermediaries, and Pavel acquired them, but the chain turned out to be too short for Zhbanov.

Now all the blame can be put on Zhbanov. Including those rabid dogs that are now waiting in ambush on the road. A coffin on wheels to you, Veshchy, and not the Rabis.

Later, Pavel will conduct a formal investigation and tell Jeanne that these bandits were hired by Zhbanov even before his sudden death. I’m so sorry, dear, for the talented guy, but now nothing can be done, because I have already punished the culprit with the most cruel punishment.

This time there will be enough bandits. Through the handshake with Veshchy, the baron gained access to his circulatory system and laid down a violation of the hemostasis system. Very soon, the pathology of blood cells will develop, and in half an hour the pup will weaken and not even be able to walk normally. Then his bandits will shoot him.

The baronial intelligence service broke through information about the pup’s people. Among them there are no strong combat mages, no healers, no blood mages. And only a healer or a blood mage is able to cure the pathology. So, there is no chance here. The guy’s end has come.

Just in case, the cutthroats are selected carefully. The trio of Warrior mages and forty machine gunners is definitely enough for the pup and his soldiers.

Smiling at his victory, Pavel hurries home. Before his baroness grabs hold.

***

As we drive away from the house, my health deteriorates. I suddenly feel bad, my head is spinning, weakness comes over me…Well, I quickly heal the diseased cells, the blood magic helps me, and the disease is not transmitted further. Sorry, Gornorudov, but you’ve screwed up.

I, of course, took a bit of a risk, exposing myself to the baron. On the other hand, the Grandmaster is far from omnipotent. Yes, in a battle he will tear a Warrior apart easily. But in delayed attacks, all ranks are approximately equal. No, there is not a single timer technique that strikes with the power of a Grandmaster.

However, I now know my enemy by sight. So, is that how you, Pavel Timofeyevich, thank me for resurrecting your beloved wife? A scum, not a baron. By gifting me the Rabis, you got off lightly so far. However, you are still waiting for real punishment. Not now, but give it time.

In the meantime, I scan the road ahead. After all, my malaise gives the baron an excellent opportunity for a surprise attack. Since Zhbanov is dead, now he can blame anything on him. For example, an ambush of bandits.

“Boss, the scanners have detected a cluster of minds ahead,” Jelly reports after negotiations on the radio. “It’s strange. It’s wilderness for 30 miles around.”

“Nothing strange,” I reply. “The baron is just already missing us and sent greetings. We’ll drive a little closer and get out.”

We stop half a mile from a fork in the road, then, dispersing, make our way through the sparse forest towards the ambush and take the enemy in a pincer movement. The guards open massive fire, Snakeling turns the thugs into sausage, and I hand out psionic kicks.

Among Snakeling’s opponents, there appears a puffed-up physiquemage, who looks like a bodybuilder. But the mountain of muscles does not save him — the clawed hand of the Gorgon pierces the jock’s sternum through and through. I get as many as two mages. More precisely, I myself am asking for a duel with them. A fire mage and a stone mage. The latter is in granite armor. Well, I’ll warm up.

In an instant, I clothe myself in two armors — stone and fiery on top. I look like a burning piece of rock. The fire mage tries to burn me with a fireball, but the fiery cover protects from the heat. But in return, the mage receives a boulder in the head, and dies. The last opponent remains.

By that time, the guards and Snakeling have already dealt with the remaining bandits, so they watch with interest as their boss and ‘mazaka’ fought. We engage with the mage in close combat, like two stone golems. The mage is in armor, and I am in double armor. But we don’t fight for long. My blows are enhanced by several Gifts, therefore another strong hook simply splits the foe’s helmet like a nutshell. The enemy dies instantly.

The way I dealt with the stone mage delights my people. The guards shout excitedly:

“Boss, get him! Our boss!”

“Maza boss!” Snakeling purrs contentedly, waving four hands at me, red with the blood of the killed.

We take a couple of wounded bandits prisoner, but scanning the mind does not give any results. Unfortunately, I couldn’t expose the baron. Oh, too bad. Tomorrow there will be nothing to go to Jeanne with. Well, in any case, it’s time to go home. Although fighting with the baron’s people is very fun and profitable in every sense — I mean the Rabis and the Gift of the blood mage — I miss my relatives very much. And Maria Fyodorovna needs to be treated.

The next day, I come to the baroness to report on the Gorgon. Jeanne listens to my report with a satisfied look, like a sated cobra. I even have mental pictures prepared with a staged battle against Snakeling. I can’t fake memories, but Snakeling and I replayed the battle. We staged it as if I were defeating the predatrix with only psi-constructs. The baroness likes the pictures. Apparently, I still convinced her that I don’t yet own the Swarm.

But Jeanne’s satisfaction does not last long, because soon my report takes an unexpected turn:

“And I would like to thank you once again for the Rabis, Jeanne Valeryevna,” I make a deep bow. And why not? After all, the gift is really generous.

“What? What Rabis?” The baroness blinks in confusion.

I tell about the baron’s grace. For the next few minutes, Jeanne becomes more and more upset with each new detail she hears. The corners of her lips drop lower and lower as she listens. Finally, I share with the baroness my memories — those where the Baron shakes my hand and, smiling, generously bestows the clothing company.

“How could he even think of that!” the baroness can’t stand it, slamming her fist on the table furiously. “Has he gone completely crazy — squandering our assets!”

I sigh sadly.

“I have no desire to upset you, Jeanne Valeryevna,” I say with a serious face. “If it is a burden for you, I can refuse Pavel Timofeyevich’s gift.”

“No, savior, we, the Gornorudovs, never refuse our words,” the baroness declares firmly, straightening up. “You will receive the Rabis. The company will be transferred to you, like the Valentino before that.”

“I am very grateful,” I nod. “By the way, did Pavel Timofeyevich notify you about the attempts on my life?”

“What other attempts?” The baroness widens her eyes.

For another quarter of an hour, I talk about bandit attacks and how the tracks led to Zhbanov, whom the baron so successfully dealt with. I have to remain silent about the blood disease — there is no evidence anyway, and a baseless accusation can only backfire on me. Therefore, I give for the baroness’ judgment only those facts that are confirmed by memories — mine or the bandits’.

When I finish, the baroness thoughtfully taps her fingers on the table.

“I’ll deal with this, savior,” she promises briefly. “Gornorudov’s people will not attack you anymore.”

That’s great. I think that’s all, but Jeanne unexpectedly takes out from the drawer in the table the gold chain that is already familiar to me — the artifact of psi-communication over long distances.

“Take this too,” the baroness smiles, handing over the decoration. “As a sign of personal gratitude for the Gorgon. The artifact is not perfect and very energy-intensive, but I’m sure you have enough strength for at least a second of contact.”

“Thank you,” I repeat.

“I think that’s all,” the baroness marks the end of our conversation. “And I still need to talk to my husband,” her face becomes pointed and harsh. “Talk seriously.”

I hurry to leave the hospitable house of the Gornorudovs as soon as possible. Thanks to the baroness for the artifact, of course, but I’d better put it somewhere far away from me. I suppose there is some scanning magic hidden in this chain or something like that.

“Where to now, boss?” The driver asks as I jump into the back of the Tiger.

“Pack my bags,” I sigh in relief. “And then, finally, home.”

***

“Danya has texted that he’s flying to Perm today!” Candy runs into Antonina’s room with a happy smile. “He’ll be home tomorrow!”

“Is he alright?” the teacher asks distractedly, looking up from the desk. She had just been checking her students’ homework.

“More than that,” the Alfar’s blue eyes sparkle playfully. “He said he captured the Gorgon. Now we can cure Maria Fyodorovna!”

As soon as the last words are spoken, tears of joy begin to stream from Antonina’s eyes. Candy looks at the crying teacher in confusion. Why does she keep crying! Strange woman! I’ve just told her good news, and she’s crying again!

Chapter 9. Padishah

We fly home on a private plane owned by the Valentino Corporation. I had to order a small business jet from the capital. There was no other way to transport Snakeling. It’s not just that she is listed as dead. I simply can’t imagine transporting ‘anomalous beasts’ on public transport. It’s probably impossible.

On board, Snakeling and I settle in the VIP lounge, and the guards are behind the partition in a simpler room.

I settle into a comfortable leather chair, and as soon as the ultralight jet soars upwards, I immediately understand — from now on I will only fly on this ‘silver-winged hawk.’ That’s what it means to travel in comfort: a spacious cabin, wide seats, increased leg and headroom. The takeoff is almost imperceptible, and the cabin height promotes comfortable movement around the cabin. Because of Snakeling, I had to release the long-legged flight attendant from her duties, otherwise she would have been fawning over me, but it’s okay, we’ll fly with service another time.

As I sit here across from the grinning Gorgon, I realize for the first time — I’m rich! For the first time I have a strong feeling of satisfaction with myself. It’s nice to realize: my decisions, often made instantly in extreme situations, brought a worthy result. My labors were not in vain. I have money for the development of the Gift, my loved ones are not destitute, I can pamper my girlfriend with an expensive trinket. I’m not a nobleman yet, the summit is still far away, but a certain milestone has been passed. Now I will consolidate and move further up. The main thing is not to relax, because every day new enemies appear, stronger and more dangerous.

For example? Gornorudov. It’s not even clear why he got attached to me. I hope the baroness will calm her henpecked husband. If not, I need to be prepared to meet with the Grandmaster of Blood. Am I wary of such a level of mage? You bet! Am I scared? Pfft, not after the horrors of the past life. I’m not a fool and, of course, I hope that there will be a chance to avoid a direct clash with the baron, after all, he is really not an enemy of my caliber, nor am I yet of his. But I must be honest with myself — the probability that Gornorudov will forget his imaginary grievances is close to zero. Aristocrats never forget anything.

I want to spend two hours of flight in meditation, but no way! Snakeling is worried and looks anxiously out the porthole at the distant earth. I scan her. The snake-haired one’s anxiety is off the scale. She has already accidentally released her claws and damaged the chair upholstery. I have to occupy Gorgon with conversations, and the predatrix enthusiastically indulges in stories about her old world. The information is interesting and entertaining. Snakeling’s Gorgonpride fought with various beasts. Including the tree-like Troot and cat-like Irabis. Snakeling knows a lot about the weaknesses of beasts, and this makes her an important ally. So, we will take even more care of her, heh.

We arrive in Perm early in the morning. A convoy of cars is already waiting near the airport. A satisfied Nikita is guarding Snakeling and me in a black Maybach. The guards are going to the base in Tigers.

The driver who ran out of the car freezes on the spot. He is very surprised by my snake-haired companion, even his lower jaw almost drops to the asphalt.

“Are you going to help the lady?” I ask calmly.

“What…? Ah…yes, sorry, boss,” Nikita comes to his senses and, shaking with fright, throws open the door for the Gorgon. Then he extends a trembling hand to Snakeling while involuntarily squinting. Does he really fear that she will bite? The Gorgon, snorting, jumps into the car without any help. She is still a beast, not a lady.

I come up and reassuringly pat Nikita on the shoulder.

“Relax,” I smile. “She doesn’t eat human fingers, only liver.”

“Damn…” the experienced veteran-scanner breathes out. “That is…thank you, boss, for clarifying.”

Hmm, it seems that he has gray hair? One for sure.

Three hours on the road to Budovsk, then the emboldened driver floors the gas pedal, and the masterpiece of the Russian automobile industry flies to the parental home in ten minutes. Surprisingly, the local traffic police don't even look our way.

“Aren’t you afraid that they will stop us?” I ask, pressing the communication button with the driver.

“While you were away, they stopped me a couple of times, boss,” Nikita answers carelessly in a cheerful voice. “So, I explained to them whose son you are and who you are. Now every traffic cop knows the numbers of the owner of the Valentino.”

“Hmm, I see… But watch out, don’t knock anyone down,” I say sternly. “And don’t race at all.”

“Understood, boss.”

I’m home! My close women — all except mom — happily greet me in the hall. The fact is, Irina has recently started her own business. She has decided to open a pastry shop called ‘Irina’s Curd Tarts’ and is currently in Moscow meeting with potential investors. Personally, I think Mom's idea is great and I have already invested a significant amount of money in it. Her curd tart recipes will definitely become a hit with everyone. This is a win-win investment.

“Danya! Danya! Danya!” A joyful girlish squeal pierces the ears as soon as I appear on the doorstep. The girls’ exclamations are cut short when the tall Gorgon enters after me.

Lena, Candy, Antonina Pavlovna and Maria Fyodorovna blink in surprise. The girls are not afraid, because I am here, but they are shocked to the depths of their souls by the anomalous guest.

“Good morning, beauties! Let me introduce my new servant Snakeling,” I say with a smile, pointing to the four-armed predatrix. “Please treat her like another one of my guards. She doesn’t speak Russian yet, but, I hope, Lena and I will fix this soon.”

“Fix it?” Lena breathes out in amazement. “She’s intelligent?”

“More than that,” I confirm.

The girls are still standing and staring at Snakeling. Everyone except Candy. Lightly and gracefully, the Alfar runs up to me, stands on her toes and gently kisses me on the cheek.

“Amazing! It’s not just a Gorgon! It’s a Mother!” She laughs loudly, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Danila, my dear, you know how to surprise! Just defeating the strongest predator is too small for you, no, you have to make it serve you! Not for nothing did I chose you…”

But for what exactly the Alfar chose me, she doesn’t say. After giving me another kiss, the Alfar turns to Snakeling with fierce curiosity and unexpectedly says:

“Bash, bababa, mi zaz zaza maza!”

“Bash bababa!” the Gorgon bares her teeth contentedly.

Great. It’s good that I’m not the only one who understands the predatrix. The translation of their dialogue is something like this:

“Greetings, sister! Let us protect our man together.”

“Let us, sister!”

Then the other ladies ‘unfreeze.’ A happy Lena clings to me, and I, not embarrassed by the teacher, kiss my girlfriend on the lips. We are already adults, we can.

“Uncle Danila,” Maria Fyodorovna distracts us. The girl came up to us and boldly tugs at my trouser leg, demanding attention. “Where were you? And why is this woman all in scales, with snakes on her head, four arms, and generally naked?”

She points a finger towards the four-armed predatrix.

“Your cub, human?” Snakeling is touched by the little baby. In general, Gorgons love cubs very much. They don’t even care about the species, the main thing is that they are small and defenseless.

“Not mine. But from my pack,” I answer in the way she understands.

“I see,” the predatrix affectionately bares her teeth at the girl. It looks creepy, to be honest, but not for Maria Fyodorovna. She doesn’t care about some anomalous beasts. The little one looks at me demandingly: like, come on, answer. What a curious one. Apparently, she will also grow up to be a teacher, like her mom.

“Maria Fyodorovna,” releasing Lena, I squat down to be at the girl’s eye level. “Snakeling will soon speak Russian and tell you everything herself. And I was in the Urals, and you know, the magic gnomes gave you gifts.”

“Gifts from the gnomes?” The girl’s eyes widen to half her face.

“Yeah, Nikita is getting them out of the car now…”

“I’ll help Uncle Nikita,” the girl squeals and flies out into the street like a bullet.

“Keep an eye on her, please,” I ask Lena, straightening up. “There’s a lot of sweets there. Wouldn’t want her to overeat…”

“Okay, Danya,” my girlfriend smiles and, kissing me on the neck, leaves. Let her practice, she’ll soon be dealing with our children like that, heh.

A shy Antonina Pavlovna humbly waits her turn. With a flushed face, she has been looking at me non-stop all this time.

“Alive,” the woman breathes out with relief. “Thank God, Danila, you’re alive. Candy said that you went to fight a strong beast, and I didn’t know what to think.”

“There could only be one outcome,” I nod towards Snakeling, baring her teeth to the side. “Only the one where I return with medicine for Maria Fyodorovna.”

“Oh, Danya!” the woman sobs and hides her face in her hands. “What … wonderful… you are…”

I stroke the shoulder of the touched teacher, slightly embracing her from behind. Candy unhappily pouts her plump lips.

“Danya, don’t pay attention. While you were away, she was crying all the time like that,” the Alfar complains. “You’ve arrived, and she’s crying again! She never gets tired of it!” The blonde throws up her hands. “What a wonderful reason to smile — Danya has arrived! — but she’s crying!”

***

“Well, dear, won’t you explain the reason for such a grandiose gesture towards Danila?” Jeanne asks with a cunning smile. “You didn’t seem to have strong love for him, you even offered to eliminate him, just so as not to give away the Valentino, and suddenly you unexpectedly shake his hand and give him the Rabis, a very valuable asset, by the way.”

“Darling, but Veshchy is a good guy in reality!” The baron declares with ardent enthusiasm. “The victory over the Gorgon made me change my view of him. Strong! Brave! And Nastya clearly likes him! So why not win over a young talent?”

“Uh-huh,” the baroness leans back in her chair and studies her husband’s tense face. “Pavel, from now on I will personally put shields on you myself. No more outside telepaths.”

“Darling…why should you bother?” the frightened man croaks.

“And no more ‘generous gifts’, have you understood me?” she ignores the question.

“Yes, darling,” the Baron lowers his head dejectedly.

“And, darling, I want you to know: if someone again interferes in my plans and arranges an assassination attempt on my contender,” Jeanne smiles with perfect white teeth. “I will put the culprit in Zhartserk in the company of your mistress Radmila.”

Pavel turns sharply pale. He swallows loudly, trying to cope with an attack of fear.

“Darling, it’s unlikely that anyone else will dare to make you angry,” he croaks with a dry mouth, like an old crow.

“Go,” the baroness waves him away.

Pavel rushes away from his wife’s office. Hurrying out, the baron digests what he’s heard. It turns out that Jeanne guessed everything without any telepathy. Or maybe she knew from the very beginning? But why didn’t she stop the baron? Tested the guy, wouldn’t he show the power of the Swarm in clashes with bandits? Hmm, quite in Jeanne’s spirit. She loves such cruel experiments.

But how could Jeanne know about the assassination attempts on Veshchy? Ganpus, a loyal telepath of the Gornorudov clan, placed Pavel’s shields. The baron suddenly stops in the middle of the corridor. His heart shrinks with fear. He is under the control of his wife! This is the only correct answer.

Pavel squeezes his temples with his fingers and tries with all his might to force himself to think that the baroness does not control his life. It is quite possible that Jeanne did not know about the attacks on Veshchy. Because if this is not so, then the baron is just a spineless puppet.

“Fucking Veshchy!” Pavel roars in anger. “If you had just died on the road, these thoughts would never have occurred to me! I hope you choke on the Rabis!”

For some time, he curses the young telepath. Then the baron suddenly remembers that he has not yet bought Jeanne the insanely expensive necklace. Five minutes later, Pavel is already driving to the jewelry store, thinking about nothing else.

***

A few months pass quickly. Winter was very busy. I had to catch up with my peers and study textbooks. But this is sheer nonsense compared to the affairs of the Valentino and the development of the Legion. In general, I was busy up to my neck and almost didn’t have time to rest. But I will say this — it was worth it!

By mid-spring, I moved from my parents to a mansion nearby. It cost a pretty penny, but there were enough rooms for all the girls. Stepan jokingly began calling me a Padishah, and my house a Sultan’s palace. Candy and Snakeling moved in with me. Lena also had a separate room. My girlfriend lived with her mother, but often spent the night with me.

I also took Antonina and Maria Fyodorovna to my place. The fact is that the preparation of the elixir for the girl was delayed. It turned out that in addition to the crushed claws of the Gorgon, other anomalous ingredients were also required. Nothing very rare, many have an earthly replacement, but Candy needs time to select a new composition. For example, the Alfar was very surprised that we don’t grow ‘rabbit burdock.’ But what isn’t there, isn’t there. Fortunately, avocado turned out to be no worse.

Thus, Maria Fyodorovna lives with us because she still needs Candy’s lullabies and my psi-waves. Well, Antonina, of course, stays with her daughter too. Seeing her in the mornings in a short pink robe is very inspiring. The robe, by the way, was given to her by Candy, and after that she winked at me so suggestively that there was no doubt that the Alfar was plotting something. Antonina herself, by the way, often looks at Snakeling’s figure with some envy. Yes, in the splendor of forms, the Gorgon undoubtedly surpassed the ‘pole queen,’ however, this does not diminish the beloved teacher in my eyes.

In terms of strength, I have also grown quite a bit. There is an armored gym in the basement of my house, and I spend hours there honing my techniques of the Collection. After each workout, the guards remove the destroyed makiwara from the gym in carts. However, the money spent on the purchase of new equipment pays off with growth in my strength. Now, I can easily manipulate fire, stone, darkness, blood, air, and of course, my own body. Moreover, I have agreed to cooperate with the Collection. How? It’s simple. During the first training session, I gathered all the Legionnaires and had a sincere conversation with them.

“In reality, you are all dead. Your old life is over, whether you admit it or not. But I can give you a goal in a new life. The only condition is that you agree to serve me voluntarily, and not under duress, as usual.”

“What are you offering?” Eduard Voronov croaked, glaring fiercely. “No, let me put it differently, what can you offer at all?”

I looked at him and replied:

“Among other things, you will be ‘on’ more often and will be able to live through different moments of my life. But this is far from the most important thing. First of all, I offer development. You will grow in power and reach new ranks. You are all men,” I look at the line of consciousnesses. “And a man’s goal is to constantly compete and win. Together with me you will become the strongest mages. And then, if you deserve it, I can move your consciousness into the bodies of my enemies.”

Silence fell. The Legionnaires were shocked.

“Can you really do that?” Eduard moaned with pain in his eyes. “Give us someone else’s bodies?”

“I can’t yet, but I know who can,” I answered honestly and shrugged. “For me, this skill is just a matter of time. So think for yourselves how you want to live: fruitlessly resist me, or serve and, as a reward, get a body. But I will warn you right away — this will not happen soon, only as a result of your many years of service, when I reach the top.”

Eduard shut up, thinking, then unexpectedly raised his hand first.

“To hell with it, I agree,” he grinned boldly. “Veshchy, bastard, just don’t let me and the Darkness down!”

“Your Darkness will still be wearing slippers for me,” I smirked in response.

Following Eduard, the remaining Legionnaires began to talk. Everyone agreed. I appointed Dubny as the main one, as the most experienced, and the training began.

Another morning. After having breakfast with pancakes made by Antonina Pavlovna, I am going to the Sokolovs.

“Dear school counselor, today I will be late for classes,” I warn, getting up from the table. “I’ll try to make it by the fifth.”

“You better try,” Antonina smiles, flipping another pancake in the pan. “After all, the fifth is algebra.”

“I know,” I wink, and she embarrassedly looks away.

There are many things to do today. First of all, I’m going to the Sokolovs. It was them that I asked to deal with the re-registration of the Rabis to me. They did an excellent job with the Valentino, so I decided to repeat the successful experience. But there is another reason — my impatience. On the phone, Vitaliy said that he knows a great way for me to get a coat of arms. It is for this information that I am going to my main allies.

Chapter 10. On the Way to School

I get to the Sokolovs in five minutes. It’s not the capital, our town is small. Vitaliy meets me in his office as an equal — even offering a handshake. Returning the gesture, I involuntarily smile. I remember how Gornorudov showed me the same friendly disposition a few months ago. True, the baron intended to kill me, but that’s not the point.

“Vitaliy Stepanovich, I’m still not a nobleman,” I remark, after we shook hands.

“Leave the bows for strangers, Danila,” the head waves off. “I saw how you grew up, and I know perfectly well what your real potential is, son.”

Well, that’s unlikely, Vitaliy Stepanovich. Even I don’t know all my potential. After all, the manuals on the Swarm are located in the Owlsons’ estate, and I have no access there yet. But I don’t get involved in polemics, just smile politely.

Finally, with Sokolov’s permission, we sit down in the relaxation area. There, sweet treats are already waiting for me on the coffee table — this time in a box with the ‘Irina’s Curd Tart’ logo. Yes, by the way, my mother’s business has been going well. Even deliveries abroad have been set up. Lemon and honey curd tarts are particularly popular. I notice that Vitaliy Stepanovich also enjoys them.

“Sorry, Danya, but there are constantly some difficulties with the Rabis,” Vitaliy sighs. “Someone is clearly dragging out the deal. First, tax inspectors show up with audits, then the Anti-Monopoly Service requires additional reports. I can’t list all the problems, but someone powerful is clearly stopping the process.”

“I even know who,” I nod without surprise. “It’s Baron Gornorudov himself.”

“Gornorudov?” The head raises his eyebrows. “Why would he create difficulties for the transaction? If he has changed his mind, he can simply cancel the transfer of the company. As I understand it, there is no written agreement between you.”

“There is no agreement, but the baron can’t refuse to transfer,” I explain in a few words. “His wife ordered him to give me the Rabis, and all that remains for Gornorudov is to create various minor annoyances. Can your lawyers continue to pursue the transaction until they finally push it through?”

“As long as there are no insurmountable obstacles,” Sokolov, astonished by my words, replies. “It’s just that the authorities require more documentation, and its preparation takes time. So yes, sooner or later we will complete the transfer.”

“Thank you. By the way, you’ve said something on the phone about the coat of arms,” I lead to the topic that interests me.

“Yes, exactly,” Vitaliy gathers his thoughts. “In fact, I wouldn’t have even thought of offering you this before. But you, Danila, defeated the Troot and the Blue Gorgon, and also resurrected the baroness, so perhaps this way of obtaining nobility will be the most convenient for you. Although it’s very dangerous.”

“What are you talking about?” I’m already impatient. Vitaliy Stepanovich is a real master at creating suspense.

“About the victory over a beast of crimson threat level,” the head explains. “There is a royal decree that states that any civilian who defeats a beast of this level will be granted personal nobility. In the last fifteen years, there have been only about ten such instances.”

“Not many,” I remark. “As I understand it, ‘crimson’ is a great rarity?”

The tree-like Troot was a red-level threat, while Snakeling was deemed only orange — one step lower. I find this classification questionable, considering the snake-haired one’s incorporeality. Still, who am I to argue with the royal analysts? Their color scale prioritizes potential damage and destruction, not raw strength. Evidently, the Troot’s telepathic abilities pose a greater risk of widespread casualties than the Gorgon’s claws.

“Of course, crimson-level beasts are rare guests in our world,” Vitaliy agrees. “But civilians rarely faced such a heavyweight, and if they did, it was usually not about defeating the beast, but rather about surviving.”

“How many ‘crimson beasts’ have come to the kingdom in total?” I ask with interest.

“Two hundred and five in fifteen years,” Sokolov disappoints me. The number is too meager. “About a hundred of them in the last four years.”

“Wow!” There is clearly an increasing progression here.

“I agree. In recent years, the appearance of ‘orange’ and ‘red’ threats has also become more frequent. Given the marking is conditional, a ‘red’ or even ‘orange’ beast can be classified as a crimson level.”

“Are you talking about those species that are not yet in the register of royal hunters?” I clarify.

“Exactly, Danila,” Vitaliy rejoices at my quick wit. “About completely new species. As an example: there is a Blue Gorgon in the register, which you defeated, but there is no Green one. If one appears for the first time and you kill it, we can insist on classifying the Green one as a crimson-level. Of course, provided that it is more dangerous than the Blue one, even if not by much.”

“Is that possible?” I doubt.

“Of course,” Vitaliy insists. “We will connect Duke Velikopermskiy. Lately, he has shown a great interest in Budovsk and, in particular, in you.” This is big news for me, because so far the duke has not contacted me in any way. “Duke Velikopermskiy will only be happy to have a strong clan in the duchy with a telepath at the head, believe me. With the duke’s support, there is nothing difficult for us to lobby for our amendments at the stage of entering the beast in the register. Moreover, the royal experts will also be guided by the testimony of witnesses. And we can easily provide the information that is beneficial to you.”

“Tempting, of course,” I reply, after thinking for a few seconds. “But, I think, I will refuse your offer, Vitaliy Stepanovich.”

“What?! But why?!” Sokolov is sincerely surprised.

“I don’t need nobility whose legitimacy is questionable,” I shrug. “I want to honestly earn a coat of arms. It’s better to go the longer, correct path than to look for bypasses.”

“Well, worthy of respect,” Vitaliy sighs, clearly upset, but immediately pulls himself together and smiles. “Then I wish you good luck, Danila.”

He is very disappointed. Such ‘assistance’ in obtaining a coat of arms would give the Sokolovs an excellent opportunity to have me over a barrel. They could demand that I marry Sveta, join their clan, and much more, otherwise ‘everyone will find out, Danya, how you got the coat of arms in a fraudulent way.’

I don’t suspect Vitaliy of intending to blackmail me. I just allow for the possibility of such an outcome. Therefore, it is better not to tempt my main allies, heh.

“Thank you, Vitaliy Stepanovich,” I answer politeness with politeness, as expected. “By the way, does this decree only apply to the territory of the kingdom?”

“Hmm, you know, it seems not,” Sokolov’s eyes light up. “Danila, good idea. Do you think about Japan? Do you want to hunt their kaiju?”

“Why not?” I smile. “But only if there is any point in it.”

“I will consult with the lawyers,” Vitaliy nods. “Maybe, there really is a loophole in the law. If so, why not help our eastern neighbors? I don’t think they will refuse.”

That’s true. The Japanese, in fact, have some strange anomalies. Crowds of beasts are constantly pouring out of there, and they are always strong. Therefore, if King Boris does not mind giving nobility for helping the islanders, I’m not at all against fighting a crimson-level kaiju. After arming myself well beforehand, of course.

Our conversation with Vitaliy comes to an end. Though he also asks me to visit Sveta. It turns out that the blonde is also skipping school today. She had a training session with her magical mentor in the morning, and her combat Gift, it seems, is more important than any literature or physics class.

“Come in, Danya,” I hear Sveta’s voice calling after knocking on her room.

I enter, and the blonde is standing all steamed up — her face is ruddy, her hair is fresh and shiny after a shower, and her pink nails are sparkling. It feels like she has barely managed to pull on her school uniform before my arrival. There on the chair hang sports sweatpants with a T-shirt, and clouds of hot steam are pouring out of the bathroom.

“Sveta, you shouldn’t take only a hot shower,” I remark with a smirk. “It is better for your health to alternate pouring hot and cold water over your body, and not just boil in boiling water.”

“Veshchy, you will start teaching me when we live together! Not before!” she roars loudly and grabs a bag with textbooks from the table. “Where’s your backpack?”

“In the car,” I laugh. “‘Living together’ is a very bold invitation.”

“Dream on,” Sveta snorts, passing by me, letting her fragrant golden hair brush against my face. I manage to step back and avoid getting caught in the wind of her hair, although I do catch a soft, fruity scent from it.

We go to school in the Sokolovs’ Chaika. I only pick up my backpack from the Maybach and transfer to the noble limousine. On the way, Sveta pesters me with various kinds of interrogations. First of all, about Candy. Aha, the blonde has already seen her. In general, Sokolova started visiting me more often after she accidentally saw me with the Alfar in the shopping center. Sveta’s facial expression at that moment cannot be described in words. She even stuttered for a minute then. And Candy, as always, smiled mockingly with a radiant smile.

“How long will your so-called relative, who, by the way, doesn’t look like you at all, be staying with you?” Sveta demands in the car.

“As long as it takes,” I answer in a relaxed manner, leaning back in the chair.

“Why didn’t she just stay with your mom?”

“We are childhood friends and haven’t seen each other in a long time,” I smile. “We missed each other very much.”

“Well, of course!” The blonde pouts. “Missed!”

The car stops at a traffic light. Suddenly, a long beep is heard to the right, someone shouts:

“Where are you going, kid?! You’ll get run over!”

A Gazelle narrowly avoids hitting a girl who has fallen onto the road. She appears to have stumbled and fallen off the sidewalk. Thankfully, the driver of the Gazelle was alert and managed to avoid her. However, the driver in the right lane of the car, a Vesta, does not seem to notice the girl and does not slow down. I decide to intervene. Fortunately, his window is open, so there are fewer obstacles to telepathy. I quickly press a button on the dashboard, and the window instantly slides down.

“Danya! Jesus!” Sveta cries out, only now noticing the situation on the road. “Danya!”

Oh, blonde, why shout like that? The psi-command has already been sent. The man in the Vesta slams on the brakes. The sedan, screeching with pads, freezes a few feet from the rising girl.

“Gosh,” Sokolova sighs with relief. “You’ve made it.”

“It’s more your merit, Sveta,” I answer seriously.

“Me?” She flaps her blue eyes. “What do I have to do with it?”

“Well, how else?” I explain to the hard of understanding, simultaneously getting out of the car. “You shouted so piercingly that the brake pads of that Vesta wanted to support you and squealed in unison with you.”

It doesn’t dawn on her right away, and I take the opportunity to slip outside.

“Danya, damn it, you as always!” a new girlish scream rings out, but thankfully, I’ve already exited the limousine, sparing my ears. Now, I hurry toward the girl.

Taking the child by her thin hand, I quickly pull her onto the sidewalk, to prevent them from trying to knock us down. I wouldn’t want to climb into someone’s head. I’ve already broken the law, and not in self-defense. Nothing terrible, of course; if it comes to a trial with the police, I can certainly talk my way out of it, but I have absolutely no desire to waste time on this fuss.

“What’s wrong with her?” Sveta has run out after me and now, bending over, anxiously examines the girl’s frozen face.

“Shock,” I shrug. “Which is logical. She was almost hit twice in a row. But don’t worry, now I’ll get her back to normal.”

Quick stimulation of the girl’s brain activity, and she moves away from the shock state and surprisedly turns her head.

“Sir?” she notices that I am holding her hand. “Oh, have you snatched me from under the car?”

“Something like that,” I decide not to go into details. “Why are you alone? Where’s your mom?”

“At home,” the girl says simply. “And I’m not, because Barsik ran out of the apartment. The door opened a little bit, and he ran out! He’s domestic, he can’t go outside!” she rattled. “He’s used to when everything is warm and soft!”

I would tear off her mother’s head for not looking after the child. Well, and for Barsik too. In general, the streets, of course, have become many times safer than, at least, two years ago. I eliminated organized crime, and the royal hunters reined in petty smugglers. But after all, this kid stumbles in a flat place! She needs close supervision.

Meanwhile, the girl continues to rattle about her Barsik and takes out a picture of a cute striped cat from her jacket pocket and shows it to us. That’s when the blonde gets through.

“Danya, we need to save Barsik,” Sveta suddenly declares with tears in her eyes. “If he’s domestic, he won’t survive on the street! Yard cats will kill him!”

Well, I myself would be happy to help the girl return her beloved cat. After all, the cat, named Candy, is also waiting for me at home.

I climb into the girl’s head again and find out all the necessary information: how long ago Barsik went missing, what the character of the cat is, its habits, and so on. Then I send the girl and Sveta to a nearby café, as they are only in the way. I turn on the scanning and wander around the block back and forth. As soon as a little mind is found on the street, looking for any signs of a mind on the street. Three times, I encounter stray cats. Pass.

Damn, I would put Rex here. He would sniff out Barsik in an instant. Maybe it’s worth telling Sergey to drive a squad of guards with Hounds here? Let them investigate the disappearance of Barsik. I don’t want to miss algebra class, as Antonina Pavlovna would be disappointed if I did. She made some delicious pancakes for breakfast this morning.

But first, I decide to check another mind. It seems too gentle to me. Maybe because it’s a domestic cat? Let’s take a look.

The telepathic trail leads me to an abandoned three-story building. Clearly, people don't live here anymore, otherwise the house would not have been picked up by my scanner. I mentally looked for Barsik only in areas not inhabited by people: streets, back streets, alleys, where there are no large clusters of human consciousness, otherwise a bunch of pets would be included in the search results.

The front door is locked, but the padlock has almost crumbled from old age, so I just break it with a jerk and go inside. The mental trace leads to the basement. The mind is bigger than that of mice and rats. Exactly a cat. However, there is something large nearby, and it's not a person. Could it be a dog? Let's find out.

It’s dark in the basement, I can’t see a thing. I have to ‘turn on’ Voronov, because the one gifted with the Darkness sees perfectly in it. Here I come across….

Well, firstly, on Barsik. The striped cat has squeezed into a deep crack under the drainpipe and hisses in fright. A healthy monkey-rat is trying to dig him out of there. It’s not called that, of course, but I’m seeing this breed of beast for the first time. It is especially surprising that it has climbed unnoticed so deep into the town.

I send a psi-signal to the rodent to leave the kitty alone, but the result is zero. Mentally stable? Cool.

Okay, I still have lessons to go to. I throw a psi-knife, and the overgrown mouse falls down dead. I approach the pipe and call Barsik. I manage even without telepathy. The smart cat knows that since I’m calling him by name, it means I came from the owner.

The small ball of wool gives himself into my hands. Stroking Barsik, I turn towards the stairs up, when suddenly a mad roar is heard from behind. I quickly turn around and face a crowd of monkey-rats running towards me.

Barsik hisses again in fright. I, with my free hand, snatch a psi-blade from the air. Well, hello there!!

Chapter 11. Anomalous Affairs

The roar of creatures running towards me hits my ears. I try again to scald the enemies with telepathy. No effect. Where have so many of them come from?

Faced with danger, the frightened Barsik tries to break free and run away.

“And you, a cat, afraid of some mice?” I smirk.

With a quick psionic impulse, I calm the cat, because he doesn’t understand at all that the safest place in this room is in my arms.

My telepathy hasn’t worked, but it doesn’t matter, because I have the Darkness. A cloud of darkness covers the monkey-rats, and the blinded beasts crash into each other. Stumbling and falling, they form a pile-up. While the rodents are messing around on the floor, I quickly count them, as the Darkness is transparent to me. A total of five beasts. A whole rat family.

I approach the cloud of Darkness and throw psi-knives at the creatures. I could also throw blades of Darkness, they are, by the way, less energy-consuming, but what I like about psi-constructs is that there are no wounds and splashes of blood. After all, I still have to go to school and I can’t get my uniform dirty. Antonina Pavlovna won’t appreciate it.

The massacre takes less than a minute. The beasts form a shaggy mountain of bodies, I, stroking Barsik, head to the far corner from where they crawled out.

A wide pipe mouth yawns in the floor. An adult can’t climb through, but a child can easily. I’m thoughtfully scratching my chin. So, the monsters came out of the sewer? Perhaps, this is how they penetrated the town.

With my free hand, I take the phone out of my pants pocket and call Sergey. I describe the situation to the commander of the guard and task him with handling it.

“…Pass this information on to the royal hunters,” I order. “Let them find out how they managed to miss the rats, I’m also very interested in this,” I say sternly. “Well, when they start smoking the creatures out of the sewer, help them. The main thing is to find out where they came from.”

“Boss, do you really think there are still rats under the town?” Sergey is surprised.

“I’ve got good luck,” I chuckle, “but not that good as to stumble upon the only pack of beasts in the town. Most likely, this is just one of the lairs. In any case, we need to be prepared for the worst in order to avoid making mistakes. This house has a wide exit to the town sewer and no one lives here. The creatures could have taken a fancy to other similar places.”

“Got it,” Sergey nods. “Okay, we’ll do everything. I’ll go to Stepan myself now.”

Hanging up the phone, I go to the café. Sveta and the girl are just munching on a mountain of cheesecakes with strawberry jam. We’ve come with Barsik just in time.

“Look who I brought you?” I head to their table with a smirk.

“Barsik! Found! My dear!” the little girl joyfully jumps in place and rushes to me at full speed.

“Meow!” the striped recognizes his little owner.

I give the cat to the girl and sit down opposite Sveta, watching from the side the idyll of those who reunited.

“Treat yourself,” the blonde slides a plate with three cheesecakes towards me. The yellow cheese pancakes are still steaming, which means they’re just fresh off the stove. “I’ve ordered them for you. It’s just that you took a long time, I thought you’d manage sooner.”

I grin. Such faith in me! But I do not refuse the treat, on the contrary, I joyfully pounce on it. It is necessary to compensate for the energy expended.

“Barsik was just scared of the mice,” I answer with a full mouth. “I had to mess around.”

“Yes, he’s a domestic cat,” Sveta isn’t surprised at all. “Probably hasn’t seen mice even once.”

I want to say that even I have never seen such mice. However, I decided to hold back: there is no need to panic ahead of time. First let the royal hunters investigate the size of the problem. Maybe, there was really only one nest in the entire town, and I was fortunate enough to encounter it.

I quickly munch on the cheesecakes, then we take the girl home to her negligent mother. She meets us all tearful, with red eyes and smeared makeup on her face. Seeing her lost daughter, she immediately rushes to hug her and cry. With that task completed, Sveta and I head off to school.

Fortunately, we aren’t late for algebra. We slip into the classroom just as the bell rings. Antonina Pavlovna smiles broadly — a gorgeous woman! — and, with delight, calls me to the blackboard to solve an example. I sigh inwardly, but don’t complain. Over the past three months, I’ve been at the board more than all the other students combined. It’s my cross to bear, now, until graduation. I choose to believe this is how my favorite teacher shows her affection, trying to stay close to her favorite student.

After battling the damned quadratic equations, the former ‘queen of nude dances’ rewards me with another happy smile and hot praise. Well, for the rest of the lesson I just relax. Phew, my brain boils hotter than after the battle with Snakeling. All because I didn’t prepare for the last lesson in advance. I got to the right formulas with my head near the blackboard.

“Grisha, when will you and Adiya finally get married?” Sveta unexpectedly asks in the cafeteria, while quickly glancing at me. “You’ve been engaged for six months already.”

Our group stared at the Kazakhs with curiosity. Embracing his bride, Grisha replies with an impassive look:

“We’ll get married right after the last bell. It’s better to pass the exams first, then get married with a calm soul.”

“I see,” Sveta ponders.

Lena looks at me with a smile. I also smile at my girlfriend, I return it — I’ve got plenty to spare, especially for good reasons. Only Camila is somehow unhappy. The brunette puffs out her plump lips and changes the subject:

“Danila, when will you be able to tame the Platypusaur?”

Oh, that capricious Platypusaur. The beast was urgently needed by Camila’s brother, the one who serves near the Siberian Anomaly. A week ago, the Enerovs brought me a rabid one. Now I am mentally reprogramming it into a friendly and faithful companion.

“I’m working on it, Camila,” I answer. “Seals have been set, we need to wait a couple more days and see how they are fixed.”

“Good,” the brunette nods, calming down. “Can I come today to see it?”

“It’s still too early,” I delicately refuse. “By the way, today Lena and I want to hunt for South Park. Why don’t you come to the base the day after tomorrow after school? That’s when the beast will show the first results of training.”

“Okay,” Camila proudly raises her chin. “The reason to postpone the inspection is really valid.”

I wonder what’s wrong with her? I told her from the start, we should wait a couple of days. But the brunette still asked to see the beast specifically today, as if hoping I would try to convince her to wait. The only explanation is: Camila wants to show her importance. Well, I don’t mind playing along with her. Moreover, she does not flaunt her pride, but behaves politely and properly. I don’t want to offend her. After all, she is an attractive girl and pleasantly brightens our leisure time at school lunches.

“Camila, I promise not to disappoint you,” I say, turning to the brunette. “By the end of the week, the beast should be ready. In three weeks, you can already send it to the front line. It’s easily programmed, you just need a little time to strengthen the seals.”

“I understand, Danya,” Camila smiles contentedly, crossing her legs. “Thank you for the detailed explanations.”

That’s it, I’ve paid some attention to the girl’s pride. Now I can take care of the meatballs with spaghetti.

After lunch, the lessons continue, followed by the hunt. By then, Sergey reports that the royal hunters found two more broods of monkey-rats in the sewer and are now actively smoking out the beasts. The search for other broods is also ongoing. The question remains open: where did the rodents run into the town from?

I take all my pets on the hunt: Rex, Shere Khan, Nibbler. Also Snakeling, Candy, and Lena come with me. Our hunting area is the forest outside the town. Today I want to hunt Biguses, but if we come across monkey-rats, that’s also good.

We arrive in five black vans, with twenty guards accompanying us. The soldiers will not hunt, only cordon off the territory to prevent civilians from entering our temporary hunting grounds. The reason is simple. The beasts are in a fighting frenzy, even if they are trained beasts, they are very dangerous and can easily kill a random person. In addition, we are still hiding Snakeling from prying eyes, and we don’t need witnesses.

I begin to search for prey. I comb the forest for a foreign mind.

“Danya,” Lena approaches me, holding a longsword on her shoulder. “Have you discovered anyone?”

In the past few months, we have been working on improving my girlfriend's fighting skills. After all, she is a ‘magnet,’ which means that it is not at all difficult for her to wield a huge wavy flamberge. In her hands, it seems to move on its own. Now I have a fencing sparring partner.

“Yes, a large group of beasts is a couple of miles away.” I answer. “And that’s weird.”

“Whath weird, mazaka?” Snakeling appears nearby. The four-armed Gorgon has simply passed through the wide oak tree near which I am standing.

In the past few months, the blue predator has learned the great and mighty Russian. With my suggestions, of course. The only thing is that the harsh throat of the Gorgon still distorts many Russian words, but the snake-haired one, really, tries. She gets very upset when she is not understood. Therefore, Lena, Candy and me sometimes pretend that we understand her, even if it is not so.

It is much easier in this regard for Candy in animal form. The Irabis makes sounds with the help of magic.

“What’s strange is that the group is large and too close,” I answer.

“…Too close,” Shere Khan parrots, without delving into the meaning of the words. The Shafras lies down next to Rex and Candy, who has taken the form of a snow leopard. Above, on the top of the oak tree, Nibbler is sitting, folding his webbed wings.

“What are we going to do?” Candy asks in passing, licking her white fur.

“Maybe call the guards for help, Danya?” Lena suggests, tightening her grip on the flamberge. “Since there are really a lot of beasts?”

No, this is no good. She does not believe in me at all, because she has seen me in action only a few times and not even that much. Just because I scattered bandits a couple of times in front of her eyes, well, and stuffed one frozen mage with poisonous gas in his throat, that doesn’t count. She still thinks that I am an ordinary telepath without armor, which means that I can’t cope against powerful beasts. But today I will change the girl’s mind. It’s long overdue.

“Mazaka no need help,” Snakeling inserts her growling word, tossing her snake-hair. “Mazaka tear ‘em alls.”

My loyal scaly sweetheart! Well, it’s clear here. The scaly beauty has experienced the power of my attacks on herself.

“True, Snakeling,” I smirk. “We’ll handle the herd ourselves, at the same time we’ll see who it is.”

I suspect that the relatives of my acquaintances from the sewer have arrived. I can’t get into the beasts’ heads, and monkey-rats are just mentally stable. In addition, Biguses don’t have the habit of gathering in large herds.

We move out. I send Nibbler ahead for reconnaissance, maybe he’ll spot something down there between the trees. Soon via psi-link I receive colored pictures from the dragon: monkey-rats rustling in the bushes. So, they gather not only under the town, but also around it. Where did so many of them come from? This is a real invasion. Not a single outpost on the anomaly reported a breakthrough of a wave of rodents. Moreover, this breed seems to be completely new, unexplored. As Sergey said on the phone, it’s ‘something new.’ And the commander of my guard has seen no less than Stepan.

“Get ready,” I command when we get really close.

We are going to take the fight in an open clearing — it’s more convenient for Nibbler to attack. The Irabis comes up to me and rubs her snow-white side against my thigh.

“How many enemies are there in total, Danya?” the giant cat asks gutturally, wiggling her antenna-whiskers.

“There are about fifty beasts,” I answer thoughtfully and look around at the positions of my fighters. “Lena, attack from a distance, don’t get into hand-to-hand combat.”

“Got it,” she obediently moves away, swaying the flamberge. Turning around, she notices that I am staying on the front line with Snakeling, and asks, “Danya, what about you?”

“I’ll fight in the front ranks,” I answer.

“Mazaka strong warriorth,” the Gorgon grins contentedly, looking at me proudly.

“But you’re not a close-range fighter,” Lena says confusedly. “You don’t have armor either.”

“Who said that?” I smirk.

At the same second, Darkness swirls around me, forming skintight armor. Lena freezes, crying out in surprise. Her eyes widen so dramatically, I almost reach out to catch them before they pop out.

“Danya, how?!” the girl exhales in amazement and repeats, “How?!”

“I’ll explain later,” I snatch a blade of Darkness from the air, as black as the conscience of the last frostbite. “For now, it’s enough information for you that I’m both a close-range and a long-range fighter.”

“This is not an illusion?” Lena worries, pursing her lips. “You won’t get hurt?”

Well, I shouldn’t expect a different reaction yet. I just need to show myself in action, so she will see for herself and will no longer ask doubting questions.

“Soon you will see with your own eyes. In the meantime, prepare your weapon.”

“Got it!” Lena barks, obediently coming to her senses. The flamberge hangs in the air in front of her and splits into hundreds of thin, sharp blades, which turn their sharp ends towards the forest. “Ready for battle, Megamind!” the girl reports, straightening up.

“Good job.” It’s good that she came to her senses. Now is not the time for questions.

It’s time to call our opponents. Candy acts as bait. The giant snow cat leaps into the forest and soon leads a stream of growling rodents. At the same second, the clearing is filled with the sounds of battle. Lena and I attack the first ranks. She pierces the oncoming monkey-rats with a hail of steel fragments. I use the Darkness and fireballs. It works just fine: the Darkness blinds and disorients, the fire burns. Nibbler dives from above directly into a pile of rodents and crushes a dozen for sure.

Still the monkey-rats still get to us. Candy, Rex and Shere Khan tear the creatures to pieces, Snakeling releases copper claws and turns the rats into mincemeat. Well, I’m shredding the toothed pack with two cutters — a sword of Darkness and a psi-blade.

Very soon the battle ends. Snakeling looks around at the mountains of defeated beasts with satisfaction and mutters something to herself. Candy licks her fur. I can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia for the old days. Back then, Grisha, Sveta, and I would also run through the forest, killing beasts for meat. Of course, the scale was much smaller. Our trio would never face a horde of creatures like this. And it's not clear whether monkey-rat meat is even edible. We still need to investigate that.

“Danya, you really mastered the Darkness!” Lena is amazed, with a wave of her hand removing steel blades from the beasts’ carcasses and collecting them together back into the huge flamberge.

“Of course,” Snakeling snorts. “Mazaka beat me. Without armor-faah no way.”

“Our Danya is great!” Candy smiles cat-like.

They flatter me, my beauties. I’m all burning under my helmet. Just kidding.

“Of course, I have mastered it,” I dematerialize the armor. “But all the details later,” I stop the girl, or she is already ready to pour a stream of ‘why?’, ‘how?’ on me. “Someone big is moving towards us! Everyone! Get ready to fight!”

“Faka!” Snakeling curses, having just wiped her copper claws with a rag. “Argh!”

The guest appears unexpectedly. But besides its appearance, there is something else strange. I even ‘turn on’ the scanner consciousness to make sure. Yes indeed. A powerful burst of energy is felt in the depths of the forest. This is not an astral pocket. Something completely different. The energy is magical, not psionic.

I remember an excerpt from a metaphysics textbook:

“The release of a large amount of magical energy accompanies any changes in the structure of an anomaly: from appearance, to scaling corrections, and finally collapse…”

Oh, come on! No, it can’t be! An anomaly cannot open under Budovsk! It can’t, right?!

Chapter 12. Mutiny on Board

It’s too early to say whether there’s an anomaly there or not. Let's first welcome the new guest.

The thicket parts and a huge gorilla-mouse lumbers into the clearing. There’s no other way to describe it. I remember in my old world there was a cool cartoon ‘Biker Mice from Mars.’ So, this beast is very similar to an anthropomorphic gray mouse from it, except that this one is three times bigger. Well, and angrier, of course. Again, nostalgia has wafted over me, damn it!

This monster has a huge upright body. The long arms bulge with muscles, the powerful fists are clenched. Without thinking twice, the beast heads towards us, baring its fanged mouth.

“Fire!” I command and am the first to set an example.

I unleash fireballs, psi-blades and black shurikens. Lena immediately joins in: her flamberge again turns into a hail of steel projectiles. The monster is swept away like a fluff by the powerful shelling, but that doesn’t stop it. It falls, howls, rolls over, gets up, and limps towards us. All battered, bloody, with a gouged eye, the gorilla-mouse reaches us. I throw a huge psi-blade into its thigh. Just as a huge fist flies at Snakeling, the recoil from the implanted psi-construct paralyzes the monster-mouse in place, and the arm-paw freezes in the air. Snakeling becomes incorporeal and, snorting, jumps inside the shaggy colossus. The Gorgon jumps out with its crimson heart in her clawed hand. At the same second, the beast behind her falls dead.

A deathly silence hangs over the clearing. Everyone stares at the Gorgon with dumbfounded eyes. I’m secretly glad that she can’t similarly leap through magical armor. Otherwise, our duel with Snakeling would not have ended so successfully.

The snake-haired one, paying no attention to anyone, comes up to me and holds out the heart.

“Heart of marus, mazaka,” Snakeling explains in a rumbling tone. “Good food. Will be powerful body, big muscles. For mazaka good for health.”

“Ahem, thank you,” I nod, digesting what I’ve heard. “But this is your trophy. You defeated the mouse-reincarnate, you get its meat.”

“Mazaka fair-r-right!” the delighted Snakeling purrs and immediately, without hesitation, begins to eat the heart. Well, that’s right: the fresher, the better. The Mother of the Brood knows a thing or two about healthy eating.

I delicately turn away and walk aside. The Gorgon quickly devours the heart of the ‘rat king.’. As Snakeling licks her lips, purring, I realize the silver lining: she recognizes this breed. According to her, the meat of the ‘maruses’ is ‘good for health,’ which means that a mountain of killed mice will still be useful to us.

I take out the phone and dial the guards in the cordon:

“Urgently find trucks with freezers and order them here… I know that you brought one freezer van, but it will not be enough. You need at least a couple of trucks. Aha, the catch is big. The hunt is very successful. Coordinates?” I’m pondering. “Somewhere about two miles to the right of the landing. I’m waiting. By the way, tell Sergey to call the royal hunters. There is a powerful surge of energy here. I’m going to scout.”

Hanging up, I give the squad the command to move towards the surge. Spreading out, we follow the tracks of the monkey-mice. Thanks to the fact that all the thickets in our path have been demolished and trampled by their paws, we get there quickly.

Another glade opens up, in the middle of which blue flashes sparkle. Lights flicker right in the air.

“Don’t approach,” I command to the rest and with the eyes of the scanner I peer into the sparkling lights.

This is magical energy, or rather, its remnants. Either an anomaly or something similar to it clearly opened up here. But the energy knots turned out to be unstable, and the portal eventually collapsed, having managed to move several dozen monkey-rats before that. On the one hand, this is good: no more rodents will appear in the town. On the other hand, it is not very clear whether the interdimensional hole can open again. But I’m jumping to conclusions. I need to wait for Stepan and his experts and listen to their opinion.

The royal hunters arrive only forty minutes later. Cat and a couple more high-level scanners, Probe and Electrid, come with Stepan. Well, their delay is partly opportune: I manage to send Snakeling home. There’s no need for the royal people to see her. The guards also take the rest of the menagerie to the base with Snakeling. Only Candy and Lena remain with me. The Alfar takes the form of a girl in a light dress and straw hat and hides her ears.

“You’re late,” I remark to Stepan. “It’s a ten-minute slow walk to the base.”

“That’s only ten minutes to the base,” my stepfather grumbles, unbuttoning the collar of his camouflage jacket. The sun is getting hot, which is not surprising: summer is just around the corner. “We spent more time wandering through the thickets and looking for you with your find. It’s good that you left a trace — left a pile of dead, either rats or monkeys. By the way, why are Sergey’s people packing them now? Is it really usable meat?”

“Why not,” I smile. “Any meat is usable, it contains animal protein and a lot of vitamins.”

“Yeah, right, vitamins,” Stepan glances meaningfully towards Candy, hinting at my insider source of information. In general, he is right, only this time Snakeling distinguished herself.

Candy smiles and waves at my stepfather. The Alfar is always happy for attention.

“Stepan, you say you couldn’t find me?” I notice the inconsistency in my stepfather’s words. “But didn’t Probe and the others feel the surge of magical energy?”

“We only detected it when we were two steps from here,” Probe, who has approached, interjects. “The energy release is very weak. Barely perceptible.”

I immediately rush to check his words. It’s true: compared to an hour ago, now the energy clusters in this glade have become significantly smaller. There are no more external manifestations. The hole is closed completely.

“Yeah, interesting,” I scratch my chin thoughtfully. “Some kind of anomalous anomaly.”

“What anomaly?” Stepan frowns. “Why did you decide that? It doesn’t look like it at all.”

“Judge for yourself,” I begin to argue my point of view. “First, the town has been filled with monkey-rats in the last couple of days, although no one has reported any rodent infestations. Where did they come from? Second, a large surge of magical energy in this clearing. Even now your scanners are picking up its echoes. The surge itself may not indicate anything, but together with the beasts that appeared out of nowhere, it clearly suggests an anomaly.”

Stepan doesn’t like my version at all. My stepfather looks at the scanners demandingly.

“Your conclusions?”

“It’s hard to say,” Probe scratches the back of his head. “But, it’s very possible that Danila is right. No matter how far-fetched the term ‘instant anomaly’ sounds, many people have been talking about it lately. Just another theory. In Africa, a similar crap seems to be happening in the place where magical flows intersect, which Budovsk also is.”

“How is that even possible, damn it!” Stepan can’t stand it, nervously twitching his mustache. I perfectly understand my stepfather. A ‘jumping’ anomaly cannot be fenced off with barriers, which means that the town cannot be protected from it in any way.

“Recently, there has been an immeasurable amount of magical energy in the world,” Electrid explains. “Note, commander, an incredible number of beasts are already pouring out of ordinary anomalies. Plus, our mages are developing and becoming stronger. The conjugation of worlds is intensifying. Therefore, it is not surprising that energy knots are already forming mole tunnels. It was only a matter of time.”

“You smartass, damn it,” Stepan grimaces. “It’s ‘not surprising’ to him.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky?” Cat interjects. “Well, one ‘hole’ formed, but it disappeared, thank God! Maybe others don’t appear?”

“Wouldn’t that be nice …” Stepan drawls.

No, it wouldn’t be nice at all. Now they’ll gamble everything on chance, and tomorrow we’ll have the ruins of the town and packs of beasts on the devastated streets

“From my experience,” I remark, “we need to prepare for the worst outcome, and not rely on ‘maybe’.”

“From your experience?” Cat smirks. “Danila, you’re a powerful guy, of course, but very young, sorry.”

“What to apologize for?” I shrug. “I’m really young, but still I have some experience. My short life has taught me to measure resource costs and risks. If the risk is small, we can score and save energy, of course. But if we can lose thousands of lives, we can’t save our strength and time. Now we must go all out and prevent trouble, even if it doesn’t happen.”

Cat sullenly shuts up. He has nothing to parry, despite all his ‘grand veteran experience.’ Stepan sighs, gathering his courage, and looks at me questioningly:

“What do you suggest, son?”

“Send an urgent dispatch to the capital so they send reinforcements,” I answer. “If a new ‘hole’ opens and creatures pour in, a thousand fighters won’t be enough for us. We need mages and heavy weapons. We need a garrison,” I tick off each word. “But you should know this without me. It is also necessary to mobilize current resources.”

“Our resources are only thirty hunters and fifty of your guards,” Stepan remarks.

“Not only. I’m talking primarily about the nobles. Before the units arrive, it is necessary for the nobles to patrol the territory behind the South Park too. Stepan, the families have many more scanners, than you and I do.”

“Ha, the nobles won’t listen to us,” Cat snorts. “They don’t give a damn about the town.”

“The town feeds them,” I remark. “They have enterprises and workers here. Put pressure on the fact that they may lose income if they miss a new ‘hole’.”

“We’ll try,” my stepfather decides. “Tomorrow I’ll hold a meeting with the aristocrats. Danya, you come too.”

I shrug. It’s certainly strange that a commoner schoolboy will be sitting among noble bearded men, but on the other hand: does etiquette matter when disaster’s looming?

In fact, there isn’t much more for me to do here. Now Stepan will place patrol scanners and start writing a report to the headquarters. Homework is waiting for me. And Lena needs to be taken home. Candy has already disappeared somewhere. Probably turned into an animal and rushed off to hunt.

By the time I take Lena home and get back, it’s already dark. Things to do, things to do, things to do… I do my homework, meditate a little, have dinner with my ‘harem,’ and then, stuffed with Antonina Pavlovna’s cutlets, I go to bed. I don’t know why the teacher has become so keen on cooking lately. I’ve repeatedly told her that I have a cook, and there’s no need to put her out of a job, but no, Antonina still treats us to her culinary delights. Honestly, she cooks really well. A gorgeous woman! Good at everything!

At night, I am disturbed by a terrible and strange nightmare. At first, I don’t understand what’s happening. It’s as if sharp claws are clutching at my soul and pulling it out of my body under the furious roar of hellish demons… Then I realize — this is an attack from the consciousnesses that have betrayed me. Ha-ha, what a riot! They’re idiots! No, but what else can I call those who think they can catch a telepath by surprise? Even a sleeping telepath.

But enough laughing. It’s time to start getting angry. I treated them loyally, but they attacked me on the sly.

I immediately shake off the delusion and unleash a destructive psionic wave around my matrix.

“A-A-A-A-AH!” cry the two idiots who have attacked me.

“Who do we have here?” I look with interest at the writhing shadows of consciousness. My blow has crushed them so much that they’ve lost the look of humans. Just smeared shadows.

But I, of course, recognize them.

The headman and his son. Well, I knew it would be the gypsies who try to attack. They’re too stupid to realize: when the mental cell fails and frees them, it isn’t a coincidence. Nothing fails on my watch. I’m simply testing the Legionnaires’ loyalty. Those two prove unworthy.

“General assembly,” I ‘turn on’ the entire Collection.

The Legionnaires surround me and the gypsies groaning in pain.

“I made you all a profitable offer,” I look around at the members of the Collection. “I offered to serve me and promised new bodies as a reward. I could forgive the misunderstanding on the part of Vasya,” I nod to the huge Basilisk, who fearfully lowers his snake head. “He’s a snake after all. But there will be no more concessions,” I point to the gypsies. “These two tried to kill me. The attempt was doomed to failure. If they had any sense, they would have understood.”

I approach the gypsies. Having lost their human form, the mental imprints whimper and beg me for mercy.

I remember the nightmare I’ve just had. How sharp claws were digging into me. But this is just a disgusting illusion. The Collection cannot harm me. That doesn’t absolve the gypsies, though.

Well, I have long been thinking: is it possible to assimilate the abilities of the Legionnaires into myself? Now we’ll find out. The Collection is large enough, and it is quite possible to sacrifice dirty traitors.

I quickly scan the gypsies and begin to burn their long-term memory. I dispose of all figurative and emotional memories. As a result, only mental phantoms remain — non-individual, empty and gray, like a column of smoke from a pipe.

“What have you done to them, Veshchy?’ Voronov asks.

“I’ve practically erased all the memory,” I answer, and the Legionnaires shudder in horror.

“Cruel,” the red-haired Dubny rumbles.

“Really? In my opinion, the punishment corresponds to the severity of the crime,” I shrug.

I simply dissipate the empty matrices of the gypsies throughout my consciousness. One could say that I absorb their matrices. I listen to myself. My head is spinning a lot from being unaccustomed to it, but otherwise I feel good.

Next, I try to strengthen the muscles. I freeze and listen to myself. Grow! The muscles grow!

The Legionnaires also see how my biceps swell, and tremble in fear. They probably thought that now I can ‘absorb’ them all.

Of course, I can. But I will not do this.

“The deal is still in effect,” I look up at them. “If you responsibly fulfill your part, I won’t have to resort to harsh measures like today.”

Immediately I feel the relief of the Collection. In fact, I myself need the Legionnaires. In the astral, they act as separate combat units. This was clearly shown by the battle in the astral pocket with Vasya. That is, in the astral, my Collection is a full-fledged combat squad. In addition, I am not sure that I can absorb many Gifts. Surely, if I ‘overeat’ the power, there will be side effects.

My decision is based, of course, not only on pragmatism. I gave my word to the Legionnaires and I will keep it as long as they themselves do not violate it. And I will arrange enough checks for them.

“Dismiss, Legion,” with a volitional effort I deactivate the Collection.

I flop onto my bed. Tomorrow I have school and a meeting with the nobles. Most importantly, I hope that another anomaly hole won’t open up. Something tells me we’re in for trouble.

As I close my eyes, I hear a furious roar from outside. This time, it’s definitely not just a nightmare.

Chapter 13. Unexpected Guest

Before I fully wake up, the roar in the yard abruptly stops. Or rather, it’s replaced by the angry hiss of a tiger. Candy, the Alfar, is already there.

Then the roar starts again, much louder than before, drowning out the sound of the security alarms that have been activated in the house.

I leap out of bed and, throwing open the window shutters, jump into the night. Without any preparation. I have two Gifts now. Camila is no longer unique in our school. I’m not just a telepath anymore, but also a Physiquemage. Not just brains, but also muscles. Before, I had to pre-activate the gypsies’ consciousnesses in order to use the amplification and acceleration. Now I just need to want to inflate my muscles or force my metabolism. So I land on the lawn enhanced, covered in a strong muscle frame.

I immediately turn and sprint around the corner of the house. On the way, I ‘activate’ Voronov and throw on the Armor of Darkness. A battle is already raging in the garden: Candy-Irabis has latched onto the ear of a huge red bull the size of an army armored vehicle.

Holy crap! A prehistoric cow in my yard! I’d rather have a wild moose – at least it would be half the size.

The white cat hangs on the side of the giant beast. Her grip is about as effective as a chihuahua bite, but the Alfar doesn’t give up and claws at the bull’s hide. This makes the bull roar furiously and trample my garden. No, this is not going to work. I need to calm the bull myself before it destroys the chrysanthemums my mom planted with her own hands.

“Candy, get away!” I shout, forming a large black sphere.

The Alfar obeys and, pushing off with her paws from the red side, jumps towards me. I hurl a ball of the Darkness at the bull. There is a detonation, an explosion, and a shockwave knocks the bull clear of the flowerbed. It only displaces it, as its carcass is too heavy to be overturned by one blast.

The bull, bellowing, rushes at me. The ground trembles under its hooves. A living tank, that’s what it is. Well? Let’s have corrida. I take a couple of quick steps forward, shielding Candy, and throw a psionic whip around the beast’s thick neck. The lilac noose instantly tightens. A powerful shock impulse courses through the monster’s nerves, and the huge red lump suddenly falls at full gallop. It seems like even the house jumps. The ground definitely comes off my heels for a moment.

I don’t hesitate. I send a volley of psionic discharges along the whip, and the impulses instantly burn the beast’s brain. The bull turns into a dead pile of meat.

“So big and so tender,” I conclude, reeling in the psi-whip and dissipating it.

Snakeling’s crushed claws benefited me. Or rather, my Gift. We all hope that Candy will be able to make an elixir for Maria Fyodorovna, but I have already felt the effect on myself. Candy created a mixture that does not enhance my telepathy Gift, but improves control and manageability. Which is much more important in my case, because I have plenty of power, but I lacked flexibility of control, to be honest with myself. Now the Gift reacts perfectly to control actions. My telepathic signals are clearer and easier to manage.

I didn’t have enough flexibility of control before to weave the psi-whip. Now it works perfectly.

Just as I manage to drop the black armor, I hear a child’s voice:

“Uncle Danila!” comes a delighted squeal from the porch. “You’ve defeated the bull!”

I turn around and there is Maria Fyodorovna waving her hand. Antonina Pavlovna is standing next to her in a short robe, her slender legs visible in the moonlight. Snakeling and two guards are also here.

“Of course, I’ve defeated it,” I survey the red carcass, which, even lying down, is a head taller than me. “It isn’t a bull? Just a calf.”

“Boss,” the dejected head of the house security approaches from the fence. He looks miserable. “Sorry, boss. It broke through the wall, the patrol opened fire, the turret fired too, but the bull immediately demolished it. You know, a behemoth like that can’t even be taken out by a tank.”

“Then I need two tanks,” I say sternly. “Prepare a proposal by morning on how to ensure proper protection of my house. This should never happen again.”

“Yes, boss,” the guard straightens up.

“Call the duty squad from the base,” I nod at the carcass. “Let them pack our calf and take it to the freezer.”

“Yes, boss,” the head of security leaves to perform his duties.

“Snakeling, Candy, come to me,” I turn to the girls. “Antonina Pavlova, it’s cold outside. You better go inside.”

“Okay, Danila,” the teacher obediently leads Maria Fyodorovna inside.

Candy has already turned into a blonde in a straw hat. Together with the Gorgon, she approaches me.

“Well, my beauties, who among you knows what this is?” I nod at the bull. “What is it useful for? Can we eat it?”

“Oh, you bet!” the Alfar rejoices for some unclear reason.

“Binorr,” Snakeling drawls. “Man’s pppower, yes, rrr,” her yellow eyes flash with strange sparks.

“What does that mean?” I don’t understand.

“It means, Danya, that bull meat is very good for potency,” Candy smiles slyly. “Especially its reproductive organs.”

“I see,” I quickly consider who to sell the beast to. I’m fine with that, and even more so — if I add bull doping, what if there is a risk of turning into a sex maniac. “Why did it wander into our place? Any ideas?”

‘Sssspring,’ Snakeling looks at Candy with a hint. “Someone wwwwaved a white tail.”

“I was hunting until the evening,” the blond Alfar shrugs calmly. “The beast could have noticed me. Binors react to the hormones of other species as well.”

 “Binorrs ssseem to be fond of white pussy,” Snakeling continues to needle her.

“Just like Duke Morozov,” I remark. “Okay, I’ll call Stepan and find out where the calf came from. And you girls go to sleep.”

“Yes, boss,” Candy straightens up with a mischievous grin and puts her hand to her light bangs.

“Mazaka, goood,” Snakeling growls, and looking at the Alfar, raises all four hands to her head, then looks at the blonde with superiority. My mischievous girls, huh.

Returning to the room, I immediately call my stepfather. Stepan, as it turns out, is not sleeping, and the news about the Binor does not surprise him at all.

“We found another ‘hole’,” the royal hunter admits. “It’s closed quite recently. No packs of monkey-rats crawled out of it. We would have noticed a large number of animals. But the scanners could have missed one bull.”

“Or two,” I remark. “Or three. Or four. Or…”

“Well, probably not more than three,” Stepan replies with a sigh. “You say the bulls are big, which means they contain a lot of muscle energy. The scanners would have detected it.”

“I hope so, but what about reinforcements?” I ask. “Our fears have been confirmed. The ‘holes’ are popping out one after another. Shouldn’t the army already be here?”

“Danya, I’ve already sent a second dispatch,” Stepan says. “The arrival of a military unit will take time — one day for sure, but I would expect no sooner than two or three.”

“Too long,” I drawl, although I understand the reasons.

“While the command grapples with the problem, makes a decision, finds a free formation, and then arrives,” my stepfather lists. “That’s why, Danya, you were right: we need to mobilize the forces of the nobles.”

Of course, I was right. I immediately realized that the command would not be in a hurry. They don’t see the risks yet, but we do. Anything can happen in a day. One Binor is the least of the troubles.

“When and where is the meeting?”

“In two hours at the base. Due to the opening of another ‘hole,’ I’ve moved it earlier.”

So I’ll have to skip school. Sorry, Antonina Pavlovna, but the reason is more than valid. While I’m at it, I’ll also talk to potential customers about the Binor meat. War is war, and time is money.

I arrive at the royal hunters’ base half an hour before the meeting. The base is almost empty, Stepan has sent almost all the people on patrol. Without my beasts, it’s also quite empty here. I took Shere Khan and Nibbler to the new headquarters of my guard. Only Rex has remained here, who immediately rushes to me to lick and hug. I have to turn on the amplification, otherwise the wolf-bear would easily knock me down and lick me to death.

Soon, the heads of the clans with their heirs begin to arrive. Everyone sits down in the conference room at a large table. Eldar Enerov arrives early without his father. He and I move to the side.

“Danila, are you aware of what has happened?” Eldar asks impatiently. He even forgets his eternal fox grin. “Nevzorov’s message was alarming enough.”

“You’ll find out soon enough. I have a conversation with you on a slightly different topic,” I reply. “You know who would need beast meat that improves men’s health? Specifically, the health that is necessary for conception of children.”

“Hmm, an unexpected question,” the heir of the Enerov clan thinks. “How much meat is there?”

“Three tons for sure,” I also think. “But I don’t know how heavy the bones are.”

“What kind of beast?”

“Rogogor,” I name the common name in the kingdom for Binors. Stepan told me it over the phone.

“Wow, a rare species,” Eldar smiles immediately. “We’ll sell this bull for a lot of money, especially his golden horns,” the heir laughs briefly and then becomes serious. Well, as serious as he can be, the fox grin doesn’t go away. “So, here is the deal. The sale will bring in around three million rubles, and we ask for twenty percent.”

So, I get almost two and a half million. Not bad, though, in my current state, it’s not that much, but still a significant amount. I can, after all, invest it in Budovsk.

“Agreed,” I nod. “As soon as the carcass is cut and weighed, I will tell you the exact weight.”

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Danila,” a satisfied Eldar rubs his hands and goes to his place at the common table.

I stand by the wall, crossing my arms and waiting. I don’t really need to be here, but since I’ve been invited, I’ll be present.

The nobles finally sit down. A representative of the magistrate and a man from the chancellery of Duke Velikopermskiy also arrive. Stepan, who has taken the place behind the microphone, simply states:

“Your Graces, I have called you because an anomaly has opened in Budovsk.” A surprised murmur rises in the hall, but the major roars loudly, “I ask for silence!” Immediately everyone shuts up. “The anomaly is not standard. These are ‘mole holes’ that occur at the nodes of magical energy throughout the forest behind South Park. The first ‘hole’ was discovered by Danila Veshchy,” for some reason he mentions, and everyone immediately looks at me.

I smile broadly, which puzzles many. Apparently, they expect a bow from a commoner, but I’m somehow too lazy.

“We found another one this morning,” Stepan continues. “The ‘holes’ are dangerous because they spew out beasts. More than a hundred monkey-rats and a Rogogors have already appeared, and it is unknown who will come next. Military units will not arrive sooner than in a day. The town needs to survive this time. Therefore, you need to join the overall task and temporarily give your people into my command,” he finishes in a stern tone.

Of course, his announcement causes a storm of indignation. The nobles, with an arrogant look, one after another declare that they will never give their guards to anyone. Only the Sokolovs and Enerovs are silent. I want to facepalm. Stepan, of course, is a military man and a soldier, not a diplomat He knows how to motivate and inspire ordinary people to engage in deadly battles or perform long and hard work, but persuasion is not his strong suit. However, my stepfather could have approached the issue in a more subtle way. After all, aristocrats are proud people and one need to communicate with them from the position of ‘I propose,’ not ‘I order.’ Of course, this is only if you don't have any power over them.

“Quiet!” Stepan barks. “Have you even heard me?! The town is in trouble!”

My stepfather also knows how to bark with a commander’s bass perfectly. Therefore, a deathly silence hangs in the hall, but none of the nobles still have a desire to obey.

“May I say a word, Major?” I ask, approaching the table. My stepfather just waves his hand. I turn to the nobles and make a shallow bow, now this will only be beneficial, because it will help to win over those gathered. “Your Graces, yesterday I killed fifty monkey-mice near South Park, they were led by a beast of no less than orange threat level,” I pause, the audience listens to me attentively. “And today a Rogogor broke into my yard, also orange level. As you can see, Budovsk is indeed in danger.”

“So what?” some aristocrat snorts. “That’s no reason to give our guards.”

“I understand perfectly,” I nod. “Instead of giving away your people, there is another solution. The major will divide the forest between you. Each clan will monitor its area and, if a ‘hole’ opens in it, will report it to Stepan Timofeyevich. In this case, no one will take anyone’s guard.” I notice how the nobles seriously consider this, and I continue, “If my proposal does not suit you, Stepan Timofeyevich will turn to Duke Velikopermskiy. Perhaps the duke will find people to protect the town.”

The nobles immediately frown. My duke reference was deliberate. It is clear that the duke will not send his guards to Stepan, but will order the Budovsk vassals to help him.

Unexpectedly, a representative of the duke’s chancellery takes the floor:

“Today I will send a notification to His Excellency Duke Velikopermskiy. The young man is right: this matter is too serious, the duke must know,” he looks sternly at the nobles. “But it seems to me that you, gentlemen, yourselves should show patriotism and help the royal hunters in their difficult work. Otherwise, the lives of the murdered residents of Budovsk will be on your conscience.”

He falls silent. And then it’s like a pipe burst.

“The Sokolovs agree to allocate people to scan the perimeter,” Vitaliy Stepanovich immediately raises his hand.

“The Enerovs too,” Eldar almost keeps up.

The rest of the nobles declare their willingness to help the royal hunters.

I suppress a grin. It worked perfectly. After all, Stepan invited me precisely for this scenario. Surely, my stepfather suspected something like this would happen. He may not be the best diplomat, but he has a keen eye. Thanks to his extensive experience, he knows which person needs to be assigned to which task for an effective result. So I was ‘assigned’ to negotiations. But I am not against helping my stepfather and my beloved town. I’ve helped well enough, and now it’s time for me to go to lessons, thank goodness I didn’t miss everything.

At school, Camila approaches my desk and insists that today I show her the Platypusaur.

“Maybe we’ll wait a couple more days?” I thoughtfully suggest.

“No way, Danila! You promised today!” the brunette whines, and it must be noted that her scorching model appearance does not at all prevent her from acting like a childishly charming capricious girl. “I want to see it! Ple-e-e-ease!”

Sveta, watching this scene from nearby, snorts, but says nothing. I have long noticed that there is clearly some kind of ‘military pact’ between the girls: not to interfere with each other in approaching me.

“You’re a good actress, Camila,” I smirk. ‘But since I promised, let’s go, of course.”

“Hooray!” the brunette demonstratively claps her hands. She clearly practiced this gesture in front of the mirror: it is too innocently seductive. Pleasant to watch.

After lessons, the brunette and I drive in Camila’s Chaika to the guards’ base. I bought the abandoned concrete plant for the headquarters. We renovated and equipped the building, and then surrounded it with turrets — a true decision-making center. So I train the Platypusaur at my base. I rarely come to the royal hunters these days. Only for business, like today.

Arriving at the base, I stay with the brunette outside. What’s the point of going inside? The air is warm, and it’s fresh, not yet summer’s stifling heat, but no longer frosty.

“Bring the Platypusaur here,” I order the guards who meet us, and they leave to carry out the order.

While we wait for the beast, Camila curiously examines the steel canister of a high-explosive flamethrower. A powerful thing. The stream reaches 500ft, and within that radius, not even a Master is guaranteed to survive.

“We don’t have those,” the brunette observes.

“No surprise, the nobles prefer autocannons,” I agree. “But heavy flamethrowers are no worse in terms of killing power, and they cost less. The best defensive weapon, in my opinion.”

“You know about this too, Danya?” Camila smiles, intrigued. “I’m impressed.”

I shrug. How else? My life and the lives of my loved ones depend on it.

“Boss!” a guard approaches at a brisk pace from the gate. “Some Kira Paukova has arrived! She says she urgently wants to see you!”

“Paukova? The necromancer?” Camila raises an eyebrow. “You’re still in contact with her, Danya?”

“We’ve spoken on the phone a couple of times,” I’m also surprised. “But I haven’t expected her to come here.”

“Boss…” the guard looks tense and even scared. “She says that if she doesn’t see Danila Veshchy immediately, she’ll raise all the dead in the nearest cemetery and unleash them on the base!”

“Really?” I’m amused. “Well, I suddenly have the urge to see ‘Evil Dead’ in live action, under her direction.”

Chapter 14. Waffle Time

The guard is horrified by what he hears. Kira has clearly impressed him. However, she is a truly powerful necromancer, and if she demonstrated her power to him, he could believe in raising a cemetery.

“She doesn’t have the guts,” Camila snorts contemptuously. “Danya, you don’t have to let her in. Even if she’s a noble, this is a military base, not a hotel.”

“You’re right,” I agree. “But she clearly has a reason to see me, since she came here from Perm. I’m even curious what it is.” I nod to the guard, “Let her in, but only with the driver. No one else.”

The fighter scurries away, and soon a matte-black Chaika drives up to us. The necromancer jumps out, without waiting for the driver to assist her. In the time that has passed, she has matured and become more beautiful. Kira is still a graceful brunette with skin as pale as porcelain, but her figure has become more feminine. Her hair is shorter and styled in a bob, and perched on her shoulder is a parrot — or rather, the skeleton of a parrot, that flaps its wings.

“Danila, finally!” the necromancer exclaims fiercely and excitedly. “I know you’ve probably already forgotten me, since you ignored my calls! But I still got you! I’m a necromancer! Which means I’ll get you even from the afterlife!”

“You haven’t called me in a long time yourself,” I remark.

“That’s because you didn’t answer the phone last time!” the girl exclaims, throwing her hands up. “So, I found other telepaths and tried to create a vaccine for cow death! Those stupid stumps didn’t have the brains to do anything worthwhile! Damn, I was already desperate! But just yesterday I learned that you resurrected Baroness Gornorudova! No one had been able to do that for many years, but you were able to do it! I realized again that I needed you! I need your talent, Danila!” she declares passionately. “In the morning I rushed to your home, and they told me you were at school, I dashed to school, and there your classmates said you were at this base, and here I am…. So!” she exhales. “Curse me, drive me away, but I won’t leave until I get help from you! You can star…”

“Kira?” I interrupt her.

“What?!” she clenches her fists, and the parrot skeleton on her shoulder defiantly bristles its beak.

“You look great,” I smile. “The new hairstyle suits you.”

It’s as if she’s been shocked. She touches the ends of her hair in confusion.

“Thank you,” the necromancer says softly under another loud snort from Camila.

My classmate crosses her arms defiantly and turns away pointedly.

“This is Camila Enerova, by the way. You should remember her,” I say, indicating the brunette. “We’re to see the beast I’ve tamed for her brother. You can stay with us, and we’ll discuss your business later. Sound good?”

“Okay,” the necromancer replies in a thin voice, her cheeks blushing in shame, despite her alabaster skin. “Camila, good day. Sorry I didn’t greet you earlier.”

“No problem, Kira,” my classmate raises her chin. “I see you had your reasons.”

Kira shrinks further with embarrassment. But then the hangar doors open, and the necromancer forgets everything in the world. And Camila too. Because Quackva, a huge Platypusaur, is stomping towards us. The beast is 10ft tall, covered in spikes and plates. I think this critter would take down the Rogogor, or at least give it a good run for its money at a weigh-in.

“Meet Quackva,” I introduce the temporary pet. “Say hello, Quackva.”

“Quack!”

“Oh my god,” Kira squeaks in fright, involuntarily stepping behind me. “Danya, have you really tamed this?”

“Of course, he’s tamed it!” Camila gives the necromancer a casual glance, straightening her shoulders. “Otherwise, we wouldn’t be standing here. Or do you think Danila would risk our lives?”

I must say, Camila is very pretty when she’s angry. I should get her angry more often, heh.

“Camila’s right,” I laugh shortly when my classmate finishes. “Despite its size, the Platypusaur is easy to train. Now, Quackva, fly around in front of the girls.”

Actually, it’s a kind of joke. Platypusaurs can’t fly: their wings on their backs are too small compared to their bulk. Yes, normal platypuses don’t have wings at all, but the anomalous ones do. But Quackva is a good guy, he understands the command ‘fly’ in his own way. Therefore, happily flapping his wings, the beast begins to jump and run in front of us. The ground shakes significantly under our feet. The armored beast is even trying to dance, and that’s really something funny. But only I appreciate his plasticity and grace. The girls stand stunned. I have to cheer Quackva up with applause so that he doesn’t become disillusioned with himself as a dancer.

“What is he even for?” Kira squeaks, poking her head out slightly from behind me. “So huge?”

“I’ll tell you,” Camila answers my questioning look. “My brother serves near the anomaly, and their outpost is currently being invaded by Platypusaurs. Mostly females attack. Males are very rare, and they’re also leaders, meaning the females obey them unquestioningly. Therefore, my family asked Danila to tame this miraculously captured male so that he would order the females to retreat.”

“Quackva won’t just lead the females away,” I correct the girl. “He’ll direct them into battle against other beasts of the anomaly.”

“Really, Danya?” Camila’s eyes widen.

“Easily. Soon your brother will have a Platypusaur squad.”

The girl rejoices loudly, because her brother on the front lines will no longer need to risk his own life. Or, at least, not risk it as much. Hmm, I really helped this guy out: I tamed the Hoofcharger, and now I’ve given him Platypusaurs. I also earned a lot, of course. The Enerov family is very loyal to me, they still offer their daughter in marriage. And I still don’t refuse. Why? Brides with two Gifts don’t grow on trees. Neither Sveta nor Lena have their second magic manifest yet. Though I’m still waiting and waiting. There’s still time, as we’re still minors.

Soon, the showboating Quackva goes back into the hangar, and the girls and I decide to go to a café and talk there. Before leaving, I quickly run to my office and grab a sealed ampoule with green contents from the safe.

We choose a coffee shop where they serve the best waffles in Budovsk. And now I’m devouring waffles with caramel and banana, while both brunettes are just drinking strong coffee and remaining silent. Oh, and yes, there’s also the parrot skeleton, which for some reason chipped off a piece of my waffle. What’s the point? The food just falls right through him.

“Kira, in reality, I worked on your problem,” finishing my food, I decide to talk to the girl. “Just recently, but I worked on it.”

“Really?” the necromancer is surprised.

In fact, Candy worked on it, not me. I just somehow remembered cow death, and asked the Alfar about it. The blonde widened her eyes and declared that it wasn’t a deadly disease, not even close. In her world, it’s akin to a common cold, and it’s easily treated with a vaccine from the green omega beasts. There are plenty of these beasts even around here. In short, Candy churned out this medicine in almost a day.

“Take it,” I take the green ampoule out of my pocket and hand it to Kira.

“What’s this?” the necromancer is surprised, followed by Camila.

“The cure for cow death,” I reply. “I won’t say where it’s from yet. I’ll just say that it’s an extract of one beast. But you check it on the sick, then tell me about the results. Take one drop every day on an empty stomach.”

“Danila,” the girl takes the vaccine and her eyes are glued to it. “Are you saying that this is really medicine?”

“I’ve already said it,” I smile. “But test it first. Better on animals.”

“I…I…” the necromancer is lost for words. “I came without hope of persuading you to help me, and instead you’re giving me medicine for the incurable disease? Danila, darling,” she suddenly leans forward over the table and grabs my hand, “Tell me that you’re not mocking me?! This isn’t a cruel joke, is it?!”

I remove the smile from my face and say seriously:

“I’m not mocking or joking. If the medicine suddenly doesn’t work, we’ll find a solution, because it’s close. But the vaccine should work.”

“I…I…” Kira frantically shoves the vaccine into her purse and jumps up. “Sorry, but I urgently need to test your medicine, Danila! Goodbye!”

She rushes out of the café like a bullet, but almost immediately returns and, grabbing the forgotten parrot skeleton, runs to the exit:

“Good by-y-y-ye!”

We stay alone.

“Bravo, Danila,” Camila smiles enthusiastically. “Even I didn’t expect that from you, and after all, my air magic awoke in me thanks to you.”

“Yeah, it’s all simple,” I wave it off. “It’s just that anomalous beasts have long been curing the similar disease thanks to a certain type of prey. During training, I accidentally scanned this information, and well, wouldn’t want the good to go to waste, so I ordered a laboratory to make a vaccine according to the recipe.”

The lie comes easily, but Camila seems to have believed it. That means I can use it as the main version.

“Still, you’re a great guy,” says the school’s second-most beautiful girl after Sveta.

“Yeah, thanks,” I smile contentedly. “I am what I am.”

“It’s good that the necromancer left… You know, Danila, I wanted to talk to you about something,” the brunette instantly becomes serious. “It’s very, very important.”

“I’m all ears,” I nod, while glancing at the waffle with fruit on the other table. I wonder, is it okay to indulge in something sweet during important conversations? Well, I’ll be patient. It’s not the last time I’ll be here.

“Danila,” the brunette casually tosses her hair over her shoulder and straightens up. “I want to say that-”

“Well-well, who is my fiancée hanging out with?” comes a nasal voice from the entrance. I can’t see from behind, but the guy is clearly young, judging by the voice.

But the brunette can see him. Camila instantly turns pale, becoming very similar to Kira.

“Gennadiy?!” she says in astonishment. “What are you doing here?!”

The tall guy, about nineteen or twenty years old, approaches us. On his finger is a ring with a small bird, either a sparrow or a finch.

“Came to try what many say are ‘the most delicious waffles in the town’,” he sniffs nasally.

“What are you doing in Budovsk?” Camila frowns.

“Of course, I’ve come to visit my fiancée,” he grins and falls into Kira’s place next to Camila.

Fiancée? Interesting. Especially since the Enerovs offered me Camila as a wife again this winter. Who is this guy? Boyar? Duke? They wouldn’t offer a fiancée with two Gifts to a contender without a title. I’m the exception — the Enerovs consider me in connection with their long-term goals.

“Please, watch your words, Gennadiy!” the brunette says coldly, glancing quickly at me. “I’m not your fiancée! My father hasn’t made any such decision!”

“Ha-ha, what do you mean he hasn’t? A deal is a deal,” Gena laughs, baring his teeth widely. “And who are you?” he looks at me with narrowed eyes. “Why are you sitting with my girlfriend? I don’t see a ring, so you’re a commoner,” he curls his lips contemptuously.

“Yup, a commoner,” I reply indifferently.

“Do me a favor — get out of here,” the guy’s voice becomes harsh, without any trace of laughter. “I need to talk to my fiancée.”

“Well, just call her then,” I shrug. “Your fiancée clearly hasn’t arrived yet.”

Camila allows herself a barely perceptible smile. Gena bares his teeth, but now not in a semblance of a smirk, but in an angry grimace.

“You dare mock an aristocrat?” he sniffs nasally. “I asked nicely. You’ll regret that insult.”

I don’t know where he found the insult. He’s sat down with us without permission and is talking nonsense, like a thug from the street where I grew up. Is he really an aristocrat? Well, let’s see what kind of magic he has. Or will he try to punch me? Like a thug? Then he’ll be riding in an ambulance with a broken wrist.

“Gena, you better not bother Danila,” Camila says dryly, restraining herself with all her might. “Otherwise, I don’t guarantee that you’ll survive today.”

“You wouldn’t dare touch me, Camila,” Gena waves her off. “My father has a contract with yours in hand. So, sit and drink your coffee. I’ll be quick.”

“I haven’t talked about myself at all,” the brunette sighs, but the guy isn’t listening to her anymore.

Maybe I should just leave, but I don’t want to tolerate such arrogance. This is my town, and I’ve been trying hard to eradicate all sorts of Beaters for its sake. The visiting nobleman with arrogance shows up to replace them? Not today.

No, this one doesn’t swing his fists. He turns out to be a telepath, to my surprise. Moreover, his psionic attack is crude and dull, like a swing of a sledgehammer. If I didn’t have shields, I would have fallen and writhed in pain. But I do have them.

My shields aren’t simple these days. Thanks to Candy’s potions, in recent months I’ve become more flexible in coordinating psionic impulses. Therefore, I was able to assemble shields with automatic feedback. A model like: hit for hit. Moreover, the retaliation arrives in the form of a mental drill, which punctures the enemy’s shields in a focused manner, and then a pre-made illusion is sent into that small hole.

That’s exactly what’s happening now. Gena’s attack is suppressed, and his shields turn out to be thin. The drill penetrates. Therefore, the guy receives an illusion of Snakeling, who bares her teeth at him and scratches his skull with copper claws, and as she does, she growls something guttural.

“A-a-a-a-ah!” the aristocrat shrieks, jumping up and trying to escape from the Gorgon overtaking him. In addition to the visualized image, he receives emanations of panic and fear of a cornered victim. My illusions aren’t just something mild, they are combinations of auditory, visual images, and emotional experiences.

Gena rushes off to who-knows-where in a second, without even closing the entrance door behind him.

Let him run. The illusion should dissipate on its own in about ten minutes. A timer is sewn into the construct. Hopefully, by that time, Gena will have already run beyond the borders of Budovsk. I have illusions of varying degrees of cruelty. Relatively harmless ones are currently set on the shields by default. The guy was lucky.

Camila sits motionless, an expression of shock and bewilderment frozen on her face. The brunette turns a surprised look at me, as if to say, what was that all about.

“Strange guy,” I spread my hands. “Haven’t even said goodbye… By the way, you don’t mind if I order more waffles, do you? My energy has gone somewhere, and I don’t even know where.”

“What? Oh, yes, of course,” Camila doesn’t immediately understand what I’m talking about.

“Excellent,” I call the waiter with my fingers. “In the meantime, you’ll tell me who this Gennadiy is, what he wants from you, and what contract he has talked about.”

Chapter 15. The Hunger of Darkness

“So, this son of a bitch showed up!” Albert Enerov fumes after Camila leaves, quietly closing the door behind her. “Why? Did the Zyablikovs want to show they’re serious?”

“Well, their Gena got beaten,” Eldar remarks, smirking. “He shouldn’t have messed with our local celebrity. Turns out Danila eats other telepaths for breakfast.”

“That’s for sure!” the head of the family says with a smile, relishing his daughter’s story about the battle in the café. “I wonder what Danila instilled in Zyablikov.”

“Who knows? Maybe a vision of his father punishing him for failing the marriage mission,” the heir suggests.

Albert's expression darkens immediately.

“Are there any prerequisites for failure?” the head sighs. “So, Gena got a mental knockout from Danila? What’s the point? The Zyablikovs won’t back down. That old vulture Efrem is insisting on the wedding this summer!”

“He can wait. Camila is underage,” Eldar points out. “We can stall for time for now. It’s been twenty years since young ladies jumped into marriage at thirteen years old. It’s not customary in modern society.”

“She’ll turn eighteen in the fall,” Albert exclaims, throwing his hands up. “That’s not much of a delay.”

“It’s enough for us to buy time,” the heir disagrees. “I have an idea, dad.”

“What ‘idea’ could there possibly be?” Albert turns in his chair towards the window and looks at the greening garden. “We should have hidden the information better that Camila has two Gifts. Maybe she shouldn’t have even gone through the second commission.”

“We had a plan,” Eldar reminds him, “To have Camila married off within two to three years. After the commission, we had official confirmation of Camila’s second Gift — and her high value as a bride. Without the paperwork, no one would have believed us.”

“Yes, I remember,” Albert waves it off.

“Who knew the Zyablikovs would crawl out so early?” Eldar shrugs. “If they hadn’t gone bankrupt, maybe they wouldn’t have even remembered us.”

“What’s the idea, Eldar?” the head asks again, turning to his son.

“It’s banal, but it works,” Eldar smirks. “The fact that the Zyablikovs declared their claim to Camila’s hand doesn’t really change anything. Yes, it’s unpleasant, but we just need to speed things up. While Camila isn’t eighteen, we have carte blanche. Therefore, we also look for a groom, but add another requirement to the list.”

The heir falls silent, and Albert rolls his eyes:

“Just say it already, Eldar, don’t drag it out. I don’t have time to wait out your theatrical pauses.”

“Let the groom kill Gena in a fair duel, then the obstacle will disappear,” Eldar remarks.

“Then Veshchy is out,” Albert says thoughtfully. “He’s not noble.”

“For now, yes,” the heir agrees. “But note, dad, the anomaly has opened up right next to us. And not even two days have passed since Danila killed two ‘orange threats’ in Budovsk.”

“Where did you get that information?”

“He said it himself at the royal hunters’ meeting. Nevzorov confirmed it too. I think the day when a ‘crimson’ beast crawls out isn’t far off, then our telepath will have an excellent opportunity to get a coat of arms.”

“For a young kid to defeat a ‘crimson’ one is…” Albert says with hesitation.

“We have no choice anyway, dad,” Eldar spreads his hands. “We can’t ask any duke or boyar to fight Gennadiy for Camila’s hand. The Zyablikovs are the same vassals of the Duke Velikopermskiy as we are. They will immediately complain to him that we are trying to evade the agreement. The duke won’t pat you on the head for trying to take a unique mage with two Gifts out of the duchy. But if it’s a nobleman from our duchy, that’s another matter. Then the duke won’t care.”

“Okay,” Albert sighs, “let’s say the ‘crimson’ appears by some miracle … But will the garrison even let Veshchy near the beast?”

“The garrison will obey Stepan Nevzorov. I’ve heard he’s going to be promoted. I think Danila will easily be able to come to an agreement with his stepfather.”

“Well, maybe. But Veshchy himself has to want to marry Camila. And that desire? It’s just not there,” Albert says gloomily. “He doesn’t refuse outright, but the very uncertainty doesn’t suggest any great enthusiasm.”

“I’ll talk to Danila,” Eldar offers. “I think competition in the form of Gena will force him to hurry with a decision. After all, it’s a good incentive: the prize could go to someone else. And there isn’t a single duchess with two Gifts, as far as I’ve heard. Our guy is a rationalist and thinks about the future. The right choice is obvious here.”

“Try it,” Albert decides. “There’s nothing to lose anyway. Damn Zyablikovs!”

***

Several days have passed. Budovsk held up admirably. The garrison finally arrived, and its command was handed over to Stepan. A wise choice, I think. Surely, the bigwigs in the ministry saw how ‘old man Nevzorov’ skillfully organized everything in a non-standard situation — didn’t panic, and even got the nobles to patrol the territory — and decided to rely on him. Well, I’m glad that I helped my stepfather to the best of my ability. It’s nice to have the head of the garrison of the Royal armed forces as a parent.

“Danila, you’re not with us again,” Sveta nudges me in the side with her elbow. “Stop sleeping with your eyes open.”

“I’m not sleeping,” I bring my thoughts back to reality. As usual, we’re sitting with friends in the school cafeteria, talking about nothing. “Sveta, why have you taken Lena’s seat?”

“To wake you up,” the blonde snorts and moves away from me, closer to Camila. Lena is coming from the serving hatch with a tray. She was delayed in the teachers’ lounge for five minutes on the duties of the class president, and already one shameless girl’s butt has taken her chair. Nature abhors a vacuum.

“How are you doing, guys?” Lena asks, sitting down and looking at Sveta with irony. Apparently, the girl noticed the attempt on her seat.

“We’re fine, yeah,” Grisha replies with a sardonic grin. “But I’m kind of scared for you and Danya.”

“Yeah?” Camila raises an eyebrow. “Why is that?”

“Those two were seen in South Park, indeed,” Grisha narrows his already narrow eyes. “More than once. Danya, confess: are you and Lena hunting beasts from the ‘holes’?”

“I surrender. Caught red-handed,” I raise my hands with a smirk. “Just don’t shoot.”

Actually, Grisha is right. Lena and I really got carried away with hunting.

Recently, ‘holes’ have become more frequent — they just keep popping up one after another, and beasts keep pouring out of them. But so far, there have been no civilian casualties. Thanks to Stepan’s sensitive leadership. As soon as a ‘hole’ appears, it is immediately detected by the scanners on patrol. But there is a nuance: the number of ‘holes’ is increasing every day. A couple have already appeared in the southern districts of the town. Regrettably, but it’s a fact: this is just the beginning. With this progression, ‘holes’ will soon appear every two hours. No garrisons will be enough.

That’s why Lena and I have been frequenting South Park. So what? Excellent skill training, especially since we’re helping the townspeople. I’m trying out different psi-constructs. Lena is already masterfully wielding her flamberge. However, we have to go hunting in the town together. Snakeling and Candy in cat form can’t be seen on the streets. Especially for them, I rented a small plot of forest in the south. Different beasts are constantly wandering there, and ‘holes’ sometimes open up there as well. Stepan knows that this area is under our complete control and doesn’t send people there.

“You’re taking a big risk,” Sveta accuses me. “Danila, you’re risking Lena!”

To her surprise, Lena laughs loudly after these words. The blonde first blinks her blue eyes, then frowns in offense.

“I won’t say another word to you!” she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Sveta, I’m sorry, but don’t worry so much about me,” Lena smiles, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “I’ve grown a lot stronger in these past couple of days, and don’t forget that Danya defeated beasts of orange threat level. With him, anything is possible.”

“Grown stronger is a cool argument, indeed,” Grisha approves. “In short, Danya, you can do whatever you want, but next time we’re going with you.”

“We?” I ask. The Kazakh can’t speak for Sveta and Camila.

“Me and Adiya,” Grisha puts his arm around his fiancée’s shoulders, and the Kazakh girl submissively snuggles up to her protector-batyr.

“Things just got even worse,” Sveta sighs. “Does Adiya even have combat potential?”

“Of course,” unexpectedly, the Kazakh girl extends her hand, and a small water wedge appears on her slender palm.

We are all surprised. Because Adiya, although gifted, hasn’t been awakened. Or rather, that’s what we thought.

“Wow!” Camila exclaims in amazement, then winks slyly. “I see, Mr. Kalyir, your future family has secrets from us.”

“Not at all,” the Kazakh shakes his head. “The awakening has happened recently. Adiya had her rank assessment this weekend. We didn’t want to jinx the luck by talking about her Gift. But now we can.”

“What rank are you, Adiya?” Lena asks, interested.

“Second rank, Warrior,” the Kazakh girl proudly reports, and we all congratulate her. A high rank for someone who has just awakened.

“Grisha, congratulations to you too,” I smirk. ‘You’re marrying a mage! Your father must be pleased.”

“You bet!” the Kazakh grins widely.

Adiya looks at me with a smile.

“Thank you, Danya!” the girl heartily presses her hands to her chest. “It was your psi-waves that helped, I know it for sure. We have problems with awakening in the female line in our family. I was even afraid that Grisha’s parents would call off the engagement if I couldn’t awaken my Gift.”

“You’re welcome,” I shamelessly claim the laurels for myself. Why not? Maybe it’s true that thanks to me, these two steppe lovebirds will stay together and build a family nest.

“We’re very lucky,” Grisha continues to grin, “That Danila doesn’t charge a fee for distributing psi-waves.”

“Grigory, don’t you dare give him the idea!” Camila exclaims. “We’ll never be able to pay him off!”

Everyone laughs. Only I am sad. Really, why don’t I charge a fee for psi-waves? Sigh, lost profit. But it’s too late: the guys at this table have long become my friends, and I’m sincerely glad that they aren’t weaklings.

Unexpectedly, Sveta and Camila declare that they’re also going hunting with us. Well, that’s a bit much, isn’t it? On the other hand, I myself missed the former walks of our trio. So I can have a bit of nostalgia a couple of times. As a result, we schedule our hunt for tomorrow. Today is not possible as I still have things to do.

After school, I head home and sit in my office until the evening. I do my homework, damn it, and also think about my recent conversation with Eldar. The Enerovs are again asking me to become Camila’s husband. But this time with a threat: if I mess around, another guy will take the girl away. That big-lipped Gena Zyablikov will take her away. Only without nobility, this whole venture is meaningless. Therefore, I need to focus on the first step called ‘coat of arms.’

Then I talk to a joyful Kira on the phone. The elixir has worked. In the first few days, the patients’ indicators improved. Kira is already treating people with the potion, and they are gradually getting better. Between joyful exclamations the necromancer hints that it will be nice if he can send her more ampules. When I asked “How many?” Paukova modestly replies:

“A couple of freight cars would be great, Danya dear.”

Hmm, that’s a good business! Very good! Of course, I patented the elixir recipe first thing. Now it’s just a matter of finding a laboratory, and Kira volunteers to do that. A plan immediately ripens in my mind: establish a small pharmaceutical company, hire pharmacists and dispensers, and appoint Kira as the CEO. She’s already of age, so she can do it. It will be strange, of course: a noblewoman employed by a commoner. I check with the girl to see if she’s okay with it. In response, I hear:

“Danila, are you kidding?! It’s my dream — to save people from this garbage!”

So she’s not against it. Well, that’s good.

Of course, Kira is young, inexperienced, with some twisted necromantic ideas in her head, and her parrot is terrifying. But the girl is motivated to eradicate cow disease like no one else. Her mother died from this scourge, and so the girl is burning with a dream. The laboratory has great potential. Candy is very smart. She is no joke, she is a three-hundred-year-old alfar healer. She definitely knows a lot of other remedies for various types of herpes and scrofula.

“Purr-purr, what are you doing here?” The Alfar’s gentle arms wrap around my neck from behind.

Speak of the devil! I immediately turn around and grab the laughing blonde. We frolic a bit, kiss, hug, and then I tell the idea of an elixir conveyor at the pointy-eared healer.

“Why not?” she shrugs, settling comfortably on my lap. “I remember about a thousand healing recipes. Surely something will come in handy for your sick compatriots. I’ll think.”

“So, it’s decided,” I smile in anticipation of big money.

It’s clear that we’ll treat the poor for free, we’ll create a special quota for them. Ideally, we need to get a contract from the kingdom, and let the king pay for the treatment of his subjects. It is the government’s responsibility to support the healthcare sector. But we’ll get to government contracts later. There’s time.

Looking at me, Candy also smiles and suddenly abruptly pulls off my shirt… In short, I have to distract myself from thoughts of capturing new markets. My main healer demands my attention.

It’s already getting dark outside when the Alfar finally calms down, satisfied, and falls asleep right on me. I have to carry her to bed. I myself go to the basement. No one has canceled training, it’s sacred.

A fresh row of concrete makiwara awaits me downstairs. The procurement service promptly replaced the trainers. I smashed the previous ones just a couple of days ago.

First of all, I ‘turn on’ Voronov’s consciousness.

“Veshchy, what do you want?” my former enemy asks lazily.

“Not me, but we,” I smile. ‘We’re a team. I thought that your Gift was weak. It needs to be developed.”

“I am a Master,’ he snorts.

“First-rank Master,” I carelessly emphasize. “You don’t have any normal volumetric techniques befitting a Master, otherwise you wouldn’t have lost to me so quickly. No, you still would have lost, but at least you would have put up a decent fight.” He unhappily curls his lips. ‘Your black balls are no good.”

“What strength of attack do you need, Veshchy?” the offended Master of Darkness growls.

“One that will demolish all these makiwara in one blow,” I point to the row of vertical concrete slabs. “Any ideas?”

“The Hunger of Darkness is a perfect fit,” Eduarda sighs. “But that technique never came easily to me.”

“It will now,” I declare confidently. “Tell me how to summon it. Although no — I better look myself.”

I dive into Voronov’s consciousness and find the necessary memories. Yes, the Hunger of Darkness is a cool thing. And very energy-intensive. I think I’ll have to tinker with it before I form it. But it’s worth it. Although the technique belongs to the first rank of Master, it is dangerous for the second rank as well. The fact is that the Hunger of Darkness not only creates a powerful shockwave, but also devours all other people’s techniques within the radius of fire. The Darkness is always hungry.

Immersed in meditation, I try to solve the puzzle. Time ceases to exist for me. I try to cope with the flow of dark energy. In general, I noticed that manipulation with psionics is much more complex than with any other magic. Or rather, not more complex, but telepathy simply requires more filigree. Our knots are smaller, the lines are more capricious, and other people’s brain impulses are quite the puzzles. The Darkness is completely different. It requires a lot of energy investment, but it is not picky. But it requires a truly large amount. You could even say that Darkness is honest with you: how much you invest in it is how much you get.

So, I invest almost until morning. I sit all sweaty and tired, dark circles dancing in my eyes. It seems like I’ll pass out now. A curd tart with honey would be nice now to fuel up.

“Veshchy, you should go to sleep,” Voronov snorts, watching me with disdainful neglect.

“I’ll go now,” I stand up, staggering. “I’ll just try something and go.”

I raise my hands and awaken the dark Gift. Dark rays emanate from my fingers. They connect into a huge black wave that covers the makiwara with a blanket.

“What?! How?!” Voronov’s face stretches out.

The blanket of Darkness slowly, as if reluctantly, retreats and dissipates. Crumbled concrete boards appear from under the tentacles of darkness. Not a single whole makiwara remains.

“You’ve done it,” Voronov says enviously. “It’s truly the Hunger of Darkness.”

I understand his emotions. A mere telepath outperforming a hereditary dark mage.

“In fact, you’ve helped me,” I confess, wiping sweat from my forehead. “Without you, I wouldn’t have succeeded. All I did was pour energy proportionally into the knots. There are several sources at my disposal, don’t forget: mine, yours, and the rest of the Legionnaires’.”

“I see,” Eduard’s face immediately brightens.

I confess, I’ve lied a little. It’s not just a matter of an abyss of energy, I also need to pour it in correctly. Previously, Voronov did this with mistakes. I understood this immediately. Thanks to Candy’s potions and long manipulations with capricious psionics, I feel energy better than Voronov. But he doesn’t need to know that. Why upset him? Let him think that he is indispensable to me with his way of thinking as a ‘thoroughbred dark mage.’ Perhaps, it will actually come in handy.

I deactivate Voronov and go to the kitchen to look for something sweet and plentiful. Oh, I can’t wait to use the Hunger of Darkness on a living enemy and see how it devours other people’s techniques. Where can I find a hostile mage?

***

On the other side of the town, Gennadiy Zyablikov calls his father.

“Gena, have you learned from your mistakes?” asks Efrem, the head of the ruined Zyablikov family, sternly. “You won’t screw up again like at the meeting with Enerova?”

“Dad, I found out everything I need to know,” Gennadiy says, suppressing his rage. “This Danila Veshchy is a nobody, a commoner, a pathetic upstart. This nuisance definitely shouldn’t be tolerated. Therefore, allow me to finish him off!”

Chapter 16. The Young Slayers’ Stroll

“Danila, I was informed that you and some of the young nobility are combing South Park,” Stepan says. “Back to hunting again?”

My stepfather and I are sitting on the open balcony and sipping mandarin tea with cinnamon. We’ve just finished mom’s meat casserole for dinner, and now we’re relaxing. Down below, in the garden, Maria Fyodorovna is running after Rex, squealing with joy. The huge wolf-bear is startled and shies away from the noisy little kid in a bright blue jacket. But the beast can’t retreat — the girl hangs on to his long tail.

“Give me a ride, Rex!” the girl squeals, and the invincible Hound has no choice but to obey.

My stepfather and I are having a purely masculine conversation. Mom, Antonina Pavlovna, and Candy are now sitting in the living room and whispering about something.

“Yeah,” I nod. “Went out a couple of times. We’re going tomorrow too.”

Helping the town turned out to be very profitable. The freezers in my base are now full of beast meat, and the guards have ordered new industrial refrigerators to keep up with the demand. In addition, Snakeling and Candy have also been pleased with the daily catches. Not only are my friends and I becoming rich, but other nobles have also taken an interest in hunting. This is not surprising, as the business is clearly profitable. Money is flowing into the town like a river, and if this continues, Budovsk could soon rival Dubai — if it survives, of course.

“Well done!” Stepan approves. “We don’t have enough people. More ‘holes’ appear daily, and, to make matters worse, each spews more beasts. That’s what doesn’t fit in my head. It feels like someone is creating these ‘holes’,” he looks at me with a hint. “Can you ask Candy if this is possible in principle?”

“Already asked,” I surprise my stepfather with the answer. “It wasn’t just you who had that thought in your head.”

“What did she say?” Stepan leans forward impatiently.

“You know Candy came from another world,” I say. “They have many different powerful creatures there. Including some sorcerers and alchemists who can create almost anything in the world.”

“So, that option is possible,” Stepan clenches his fists. “I’d like to meet that bastard!”

“Are ‘holes’ appearing in many other places as well?” I ask, fishing for a military secret.

“Yeah, this scourge is everywhere now,” Stepan grumbles. “That is, not everywhere, of course, but in many places. In our kingdom alone, there are already two, including Budovsk.”

“I see,” I ponder.

It turns out that our world is changing. Standard anomalies are no longer the only portals to other worlds. The conjunction of worlds is intensifying. More and more beasts will arrive. Will the country withstand it? I hope so. But King Boris should be primarily concerned with the proper defense of the kingdom. But I can’t miss the chance to earn money and increase my influence. Therefore, we need to build a pharmaceutical factory now. The increase in alien ingredients makes it possible to produce Candy’s potions on an industrial scale.

I have already ordered the HR director Tamara to look for personnel for the laboratory. I appointed Vasilisa and Alice as my personal assistants in all matters. Both beauties have proven themselves as loyal employees. It’s worth seeing how they cope with coordinating affairs in the capital.

“Danila, I want to share some news,” Stepan says unexpectedly formally. “The garrison in Budovsk is officially being transferred under my command. I am no longer the acting head of the garrison, I am the head of the garrison.”

“Wow! Good news. Congratulations! Wait a minute, does that mean you’ll be appointed…”

“Colonel,” Stepan nods. “They’re giving me hereditary nobility.”

“That’s great!” I say sincerely. “But also very unexpected!”

“Well, nothing unexpected, actually. The staff rats have their own reason for throwing me such a meaty piece,” my stepfather sighs. “If I don’t manage to hold back ‘holes,’ they’ll make me the scapegoat. But the staffers will break their teeth. I’ll protect the town. Therefore, think carefully, maybe you should still join the Nevzorov family? After you come of age, it will be too late.”

“No, dad, sorry, but I have a different path,” I refuse without hesitation. “I don’t want to drag you and mom into my problems. You have enough of your own.”

“As you wish, son,” my stepfather sighs. It’s clear that he’s becoming embarrassed. To change the subject, he looks at the girl tormenting Rex. “Look how restless she is! Ugh, rascal! Danya, Maria Fyodorovna has clearly recovered.”

“Not yet,” I shake my head. “We’ve improved her condition, but Candy is still preparing the medicine. She’s waiting for the first flowers to bloom, to ‘infuse the potion with the powers of awakened nature,’ if literally.”

“Intricate,” Stepan gives his verdict and suddenly winks conspiratorially, “What about you and Antonina Pavlovna?”

“Everything’s fine,” I answer, and for some reason my stepfather puts on a lewd smile. “She cooks no worse than mom. Snakeling, Candy and I can’t live without her pancakes.”

“Damn, Danya!” Stepan suddenly gets angry and waves me away. “Living with such a woman, and you’ve only tried her pancakes!”

I look at the colonel in bewilderment. Why only pancakes? Antonina Pavlovna spoils us with dumplings, pancakes, stuffed cabbage rolls, glazed curds, and other pickles, too.

***

Sitting in a cheap rented apartment, Gena Zyablikov calls the head of the family.

“What do you want again?” Efrem answers with a disgruntled voice. He is already tired of the constant calls from his annoying son.

“Dad, how long do I have to wait?” Gena fumes, slapping his hand on the decaying sofa. “I can’t live in this shack anymore! There are cockroaches here, it smells like sauerkraut! Can’t you at least rent me a decent apartment?”

“We don’t have extra money,” Efrem cuts off indifferently. “If the venture with the Enerovs doesn’t work out, we’ll be begging for money on the streets. Remember the plan? We need to remove the obstacle.”

“Let’s hire mercenaries!” Gena growls. “Let them shoot Veshchy in the alley, and that’s the end of it! He’s just a commoner, dad!”

“How stupid you are,” the head ruthlessly berates his son. “At a minimum, Veshchy is a stronger telepath than you, since you struck first and still lost. And the hired detective reported that he is very rich and owns the Valentino. The Valentino, son! That’s a textile giant! Besides, his stepfather is a royal hunter. Albert is no fool: he wouldn’t allow his precious daughter to hang out with just anyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if this kid is one step away from nobility. Therefore, we will be careful. We can’t afford to be exposed.”

“Well, how are we going to kill him then?” Gena sighs.

“The detective has reported that for several days Veshchy has been going hunting in the southern districts,” the head patiently explains. “There, beasts are swarming in droves. Some kind of anomalous disaster.”

“So what?! I don’t care about the beasts!”

“Shut up and listen,” Efrem thunders, and the heir shuts up. “I got a Hornet-Thrower, and together with your uncle we were able to train it. It is unstable, it has to be kept in a cage, but that doesn’t matter. The main thing is that it has psionic invisibility, it is almost invisible to telepaths. We trained the beast on Veshchy, showing him his picture from a newspaper article about the Valentino. The main thing is to release the Honet-Thrower near Veshchy when he goes on his hunt again. You are responsible for this. The container with the beast is already in Budovsk at the river warehouse. Don’t let me down, understand, Gena?”

“Why is this necessary at all!” the heir whines. “How much did you spend on the container? And on the beast? You would have been better off renting me a decent apartment and hiring mercenaries.”

“Gena, do as you’re told!” Efrem yells. “The beast is the perfect weapon. No one will suspect anything. If you miss Enerova, I’ll kill you personally, understand?”

“Understood,” Gena grinds his teeth.

He really doesn’t want to tramp around the town and mess with some kind of beast. But the old man can’t be disobeyed, because he is the head of the family. Blast it, what’s with all the convoluted plans? Why can’t they simply employ mercenaries? At least Veshchy will die — that’s what matters.

***

The next day, right after school, the guys and I head out to South Park. Everyone brought their combat gear. We change in the school locker room, jump into our cars, and a neat column of premium vehicles sets off for the poorest district of Budovsk. Lena rides with me in the Maybach, Camila and Sveta in their armored Chaikas, and Grisha and Adiya also in their Chaika. We could, of course, all go in one Maybach, but I’m too lazy to drive the nobles home later. Therefore, the trip looks ostentatious and chic from the outside.

I’m in high spirits. The thing is, after class, Antonina Pavlovna asked me to stay for a moment. While I admired her slender legs, she said with sadness in her voice:

“Danila, Ivan Mikhailovich saw you hunting in South Park.”

Ivan Mikhailovich is our geography teacher. He lives in the south.

“That’s right, Antonina Pavlovna,” I nod, not waiting for her to continue. “Our hunt is sanctioned by the royal hunters. There is written confirmation.”

The ‘retired queen of the pole’ sighed sadly, her ample breasts straining against her white blouse — the gaps between buttons revealing matching lingerie.

“Danila, I understand everything. Just, please, take care of the guys, okay?” she looked at me imploringly with big eyes, leaning close to me.

How can I not be filled with fighting spirit after that? Beasts, you’re dead! I immediately assured Antonina Pavlovna that no one would be hurt — except for our prey, of course. The teacher immediately smiled, her sadness melting away. She’s not just gorgeous, but kind too. She worries about the children.

Closer to the edge of the forest, my classmates and I pour out of the cars and start patrolling. In essence, we’re just walking around: chatting and discussing all sorts of nonsense. Along the way, we stop at a café, get some ice cream, and continue walking. The main thing is to keep moving so that the range of my scanning covers new areas.

“Danila, how do you detect the beasts?” Sveta asks. “It’s hard to distinguish a beast matrix from a human one unless you specifically dive into everyone’s heads.”

The blonde is right. But the trick is simple as pie — I ‘turned on’ the scanner. It scans the energy background for powerful bursts. As soon as a ‘hole’ opens, the flow of energy immediately goes crazy. In addition, Stepan came up with the idea of installing ‘Energy Surge Button’ throughout the town. These are special buttons on traffic lights, on poles, and in many other places. As soon as a resident notices a beast, they must press the button, and the simplest artifact will create a burst in the energy background. Scanners in the patrol will catch it, and squads will be sent to the scene immediately. Ideally, they will be sent. If there is no heavy load due to other ‘holes’ and the royal hunters are quite close.

“I have my own trick,” I answer casually. “But allow me not to reveal it. I still intend to get a coat of arms. What kind of nobleman would I be without a family secret?”

“Hm, fine,” the blonde snorts. “But can you at least say what the range of your scanner is?”

“A couple of miles,” I reply and immediately offer, “Maybe some more ice cream?”

A chorus of objections immediately rings out. No one can eat any more.

“I won’t,” Camila refuses quietly, clearly worried about her model figure.

“Veshchy, how much is too much?” Sveta marvels. “Won’t your brains get stuck together?”

“No, but if I don’t get a dose of sweets, they’ll stop working,” I smirk. “Do we need that? No. Let’s go.”

The guys have to obey. My brains are needed for scanning, and what kind of hunt is it without scanning?

There’s a queue at the nearest café. We have to wait. When we finally come out — me with two cones, the others refrained from even one, how strange — a measured energy flow is abruptly disturbed by a single, cannon-shot-like surge. Someone activated an Energy Surge Button!

“Guys, alert!” I hand the cones to Sveta and dart into the right alley.

“Veshchy! I told you I didn’t want any!” Sokolova curses, shaking the cones.

Together with her classmates, the blonde rushes after me, stomping powerfully, but she doesn’t throw the ice cream away. She even makes sure the scoops don’t slip to the ground.

I listen to the cries ahead. Things are bad: someone is in trouble. I quicken my pace and cover a few hundred feet to find the source of the trouble. The guys are lagging behind a bit, but I’ve overtaken them by a non-critical distance. No one should suspect anything.

What’s going on here? A swarm of monkey-rats has filled the street, scaring the residents. Some of the people locked themselves in the store, some dived into the doorways, some are being eaten by rodents, and those poor souls can no longer be helped. To the side, a dozen beasts are trying to break into a car: scratching the glass with their claws, gnawing at the doors. A woman and child huddle together in the back, screaming in agony. The woman looks a lot like Antonina Pavlovna, and the child looks like Maria Fyodorovna.

Looking at this scene, something switches inside me. I snatch a psi-whip from the air and quickly turn to my classmates.

“Sveta… just throw away that ice cream!’ I growl. The girl obediently drops the cones, and they splat on the asphalt. “Sveta, Lena, you hit those at the car! I’m with you! The rest — at the doorway! That’s all! Kill them all!”

We start hunting. The rodents, not yet realizing that they are now prey themselves, rush to meet us. My arsenal is limited now. Telepathy doesn’t work on monkey-rats. I also can’t use the Legion in front of my friends. But no matter. With one hand, I hurl psi-knives, with the other I lash out with the psi-whip. With a single strike, the creature's nerve cells are burned to ashes.

Sveta puts on fiery armor, she can already do that, and throws fireballs. Lena wields her huge flamberge. We work at a fast pace. Very soon there are no more live monkey-rats left. The creatures are too stubborn to flee. Therefore, all went to their deaths. Well, good. A lot of meat — a lot of money. Although no, there’s no such thing as too much money. So, normal money.

Grisha, Adiya, and Camila also quickly eliminate the beasts at the doorway, then join us.

“Danila, you’re kind of angry today,” Sveta remarks, dropping her armor. “When you were hitting the rodents, it was scary to look at your face.”

I just snort in response. Well, why not? It’s my turn to snort.

“They wanted to eat a child,” Lena explains, nodding towards the car.

Sveta peers into the windshield, and her eyes narrow angrily.

“Buggers!” the blonde furiously kicks a dead beast.

I approach the car and, waving to the woman, send her a telepathic message:

Madam, everything is alright. The ‘Young Slayers’ have eliminated the threat.. You are safe.

I’ve only come up with the name for the squad just now. The woman, after hesitating, opens the door and gets out with the child into the fresh air.

“Thank you! Thank you!” the woman thanks, smiling through tears. Of course, she is far from Antonina Pavlovna — the ‘queen of the pole’ can only be one, — but quite pretty and slender. The girl is the spitting image of Maria Fyodorovna. Just as small, fair-haired, with a mischievous grin from ear to ear.

“Danya, let me examine you,” the approaching Camila asks. Good, she takes her role as a healer responsibly. Only, for some reason, she approached me first, even though I’m not the only one without armor.

“Start with the girls,” I nod towards Lena and Adiya.

“What the hell!” Sveta’s sharp cry rings in my ears.

I turn around. A small beast with black and yellow coloring jumps out from behind the corner of the building.

Whoosh. Whoosh.

My shoulder burns with a short pain.

“Danya!” Camila exclaims, grabbing her arm. Something like a stinger or a thorn sticks out of the girl’s sleeve. The same crap is sticking out of my shoulder.

“You bastard!” I growl. I would have cursed harder, but I can’t in front of a child.

The creature that shot us has already fallen dead. I killed it with an instantaneous psionic strike. I burned all its neurons to hell.

I approach the corpse. Strange beast. The size of a Doberman, painted in yellow and black stripes like a bee. Its head is similar to an insect’s, with faceted eyes and long antenna-like whiskers. Chitinous covers its body. Tubes protrude from its paws, which are likely used to launch stings.

The most surprising thing is how did I not notice it? After all, I’ve been scanning the area for the presence of minds. Is it telepathic invisibility, like the Basilisk’s?

“Camila, heal us quickly,” I turn around. “The stingers may be poisoned…”

I don’t have time to finish when the brunette suddenly staggers. Lena and Sveta catch her from both sides.

“Camila? Camila, what’s wrong with you?” the girls squeal, holding the drooping Healer.

I take a step towards them, but I feel a sharp dizziness. I understand, poison. I must act quickly.

First of all, I take out the small thorn from my shoulder. I immediately slow down my metabolism so that the poison doesn’t have time to get into the internal organs. At the same time, I ‘turn on’ the consciousness of Blood Mage Yegor. I order briefly, “Purge the poison. And quickly.” I nod towards Camila, “We still need to heal our healer.”

Chapter 17. Not All Enemies Are Goliaths

“Faster,” I urge the legionnaire.

“I’m trying,” Yegor Smelniy hisses while extracting the poison. “Don’t rush me, Veshchy!”

I gave the task of extracting the poison to the blood mage specifically. Another loyalty check. Of course, I could have taken control of Yegor’s Gift myself, but independent work would have taken longer. A few seconds longer, but still. Every second is precious now. Thanks to the Gift of a physiquemage, my antitoxic immunity is better than that of an ordinary person. But Camila doesn’t have that. Although I’m not sure — healers also have plenty of ways to improve chemical reactions in their bodies. But it’s better not to risk it.

“Lay her on the pavement,” I tell the frightened Sveta and Lena in the meantime.

The girls hurry to comply. Grisha runs to help them. Camila is still conscious, but can’t walk on her own anymore. As for me, the dizziness is almost passing. Staggering, I approach the brunette, crouch down, and pull the thin stinger from the slender girl’s hand. I put my palm to her forehead. Hot.

“Danila, is it poison?” Lena guesses. “What should we do?”

“Expedite the support group,” I say to my girlfriend, and she grabs her phone. I turn my gaze to Camila, “Enerova, can you hear me? Don’t sleep, healer. Come on, heal yourself. Who among us is the unique one with two Gifts?”

“I can’t concentrate,” the brunette breathes out. “Danya…thoughts…I can’t…”

“Keep trying,” I say calmly. ‘It’s a weak poison. It didn’t even knock me down, and you’re a healer. It should be all the same to you. So, it will pass now.”

These words are intended for those around me, so that later there won’t be any questions about how I managed to overcome the poison.

“Phew…Finished,” Yegor exhales in my head. “You’re healthy. Strong stuff, though. It would even knock down a bear.”

“Excellent, now heal her,” my right hand is still on the girl’s forehead, while I press my left hand on a bare patch of skin on her wrist. This is necessary so that the blood mage has enough contact with Camila’s circulatory system. “And faster.”

“Seems like ‘faster’ is your favorite word, Veshchy,” the Legionnaire grumbles, starting treatment.

From the direction of Petrovsky Highway, the wail of sirens is heard. Support is on its way. We really need to hurry: soon, the medics from the escort group will arrive. They were all this time kept nearby in case the guys were injured. There are three of my on-duty healers there, as well as noble medics. If they diagnose Camila and find poison, I’ll face awkward questions.

Fortunately, Yegor copes in an instant. He has already studied the poison based on my example and determined the correct approach to cleansing the blood.

“Finished, Veshchy,” the Legionnaire reports and, glancing at Camila, grins lewdly, “She’s a beautiful girl! Since we’ve saved your noblewoman, let her now thank us with her plump lips.”

“You’ll manage without,” I deactivate the blood mage.

Camila’s eyes become clear. She swallows noisily.

“I feel better,” the brunette says in surprise, raising her head. “Although I couldn’t summon the Purification technique.”

“So your body has coped, just like mine,” I give the girl my hand and help her up. “But for the future — deal with this gap in your training. If the poison had been deadly and instantaneous, we would have kicked the bucket.”

“Yes, sorry,” the brunette says, lowering her reddened face in shame. “I will definitely work on myself.”

At this point, the medics rush in and, pushing me away from Camila, briskly examine their precious lady. I just wave away my healers.

Together with the medical staff, several guards also enter the support group. I head towards them. They are just quickly dumping the carcasses of the killed beasts into the bodies of medium-tonnage trucks.

“Don’t forget this one,” I nod to my people towards the corpse of the black and striped beast. “It’s my prey.”

“Understood, boss,” the senior guard nods.

“That’s not all,” I continue to give instructions. “The beast jumped out from behind the corner of the store. I need to know where it came from. Trace its entire route from here from the ‘hole’ or from the section in the forest from which it jumped out. Ask witnesses, find video camera recordings.”

“Aye boss,” the guard gets to work.

My intuition tells me that the appearance of the black and striped one is a bit strange. There were only monkey-rats here, and it’s unlikely that the rabid rodents would tolerate a beast of another species next to them. So, the black and striped one didn’t come out of the same ‘hole’ as them. Perhaps there is another unrecorded one somewhere.

“Danila, are you free?” Lena approaches me, smiling shyly. “Are we done?”

“Yes, that’s enough hunting for today,” I nod, glancing at Camila surrounded by medics. “The guys are tired, and the usual daily number of ‘holes’ within the town limits has already opened. So, nothing should appear within the next ten miles for the next 24 hours.”

“That’s good. Then…” she suddenly hugs me, pressing her whole body against me, “Thank you for saving Camila,” she whispers softly, her eyes sparkling.

Well, of course, our straight-A student has guessed. She knows, albeit without details, that I possess several Gifts.

“Don’t tell anyone,” I say strictly.

Lena laughs joyfully.

“I knew it, I knew it was you!” Another fierce hug.

I'm curious to know what's causing this sudden burst of joy? Maybe my girlfriend has gained some new confidence — if something unexpected happens, Danila will be there to protect her. Of course, I could easily save her from harm. I can also stop the bleeding and prevent her heart from stopping, until healers arrive, if necessary.

A healer is sorely lacking in my Collection. It would eliminate many risks. But several problems arise. First, where do I find a healer? I’m not about to pounce on respectable mages. And healers are mostly normal guys, and rare. Almost as rare as telepaths. A commoner-healer will likely receive an invitation from a noble family to become a vassal; if not, it’s certainly more profitable (and safer) to work in paid medicine than in a gang. Besides, a gang with a healer is almost certainly a disguised noble squad for dark deeds. Taking down such squads is dangerous now, and I’d have to find one first. Running around Moscow killing every gang in the hope of stumbling upon the desired target isn’t a good idea.

“What’s up with Lena?” the approaching Sveta asks, glancing after the girl who has walked away. “She’s all cheerful. Strange.”

“Adrenaline, probably,” I shrug. “Alright, let’s go home.”

“Danya, don’t you want to do homework together?” the blonde asks. “I’m tired of this algebra. Maybe I’ll understand something with you.”

“I have things to do today,” I shake my head, and she sighs and stomps to her Chaika.

After saying goodbye to my friends, Lena and I leave. My girlfriend is still in a good mood. She’s fooling around, climbing on my lap, playing with the clasp on my camouflage jacket, looking slyly from under lowered eyelashes. The news that it was me who saved Camila affected her like catnip on a cat. No idea what’s going on. Probably, she was very scared for Camila, and when I solved the problem, it brought her a feeling of euphoria.

“What has happened to our modest class president?” I smirk.

“Candy has spoiled me,” the girl plays along, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Oh, she makes me do such things!”

“What kind of things?” I ask, interested.

“You’ll find out soon,” she whispers cunningly, leaning over and nibbling my earlobe. “After all, we’re preparing for you.”

She’s hooked me good, the little devil! Now I’ll be tormented by guesses. I’m even tempted to look into Lena’s head, but I wouldn’t be myself if I started crossing people’s personal boundaries because of such nonsense. So, I can only humbly await the ‘surprise.’

I drop the girl off at home, and head to my ‘sultan’s palace’ to work tirelessly. First of all, I need to call Kira Paukova.

“Hi, Danya!” the necromancer answers the phone after the first ring. She’s also in a great mood, just like Lena. But that’s understandable. Long ago, Kira declared a personal vendetta against cow death because of the death of her mother, and finally a cure has been found.

“I have news about the laboratory. My HR people were tasked with recruiting employees, but I decided that a laboratory is too small. So, we’ll have our own pharmaceutical factory.”

“A whole factory?” the girl squeaks.

“Well, not a big one, but yes. The word ‘factory’ implies not only research and the sale of patents, but also conveyor production. Business brokers are already involved. Soon they will find us a suitable ready-made company from those that are for sale. It’s time for you to go to the capital.”

“To the capital?” another overwhelmed squeak sounds. “Right now?”

“When else, Kira?” I’m also surprised. “You’re the CEO, you need to manage all business processes. I’m not going to do it for you.”

“No, of course not. I’m ready, Danya,” but there’s as much confidence in her voice as there is ice cream in my refrigerator. And there’s only a ghost of an Eskimo floating there.

“Don’t worry, Kira,” I reassure the girl. “I’m not leaving you alone with a million tasks. My assistants Vasilisa and Alice will meet you at the airport, take you to the hotel, and schedule meetings with leadership candidates. Also, the management of the Valentino will help you with setting up supplies of everything necessary for the factory and other tasks.”

“Phew,” the necromancer exhales in relief. “Thank you, Danya, now I at least have an idea of what I’m going to do. I don’t understand much about management,” she admits honestly.

“I know.”

“Danya, just don’t think I’m some kind of lazybones. Even if you said that I wouldn’t have anyone in Moscow and that I had to set everything up myself and spin like a hamster on a wheel — I would still dive into this cesspool!” the necromancer finishes firmly.

“I know that too,” I say with a smile. “That’s why I chose you as the CEO.”

My last words inspire Kira. The necromancer thanks me warmly, and we almost end the conversation… Oh yes, I finally warn the brunette not to bring her skeleton-parrot to interviews with potential employees, or he will scare away all the normal candidates.

“Gosha?” Kira is unspeakably surprised. “But he’s cute.”

“Of course, he’s cute,” I agree peacefully. There’s no accounting for taste. “But not everyone likes birds. And even fewer like dead birds.”

Kira has to agree. Immediately after talking to the necromancer, I get a call from the guards who conducted a search of the black-and-striped beast’s route.

“Boss, there was only one camera behind the corner of that store — built into an ATM,” the senior guard reports. “Unfortunately, someone damaged both the ATM itself and the hard drive with the video recordings. We took the disk from the bank owner and are trying to restore it. It will take time; my younger brother took on the task. Under my responsibility, boss. He’s a very handy guy and assures me that he can handle it.”

“Thanks for your resourcefulness,” I praise the guard. “And thanks to your brother and a thank you. Is he serving with us? If not, it needs to be fixed. The guard needs talented computer scientists.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, boss,” the fighter sighs. “My brother hasn’t finished school yet, he’s only twelve years old. But he’s excellent with computers, boss,’ he hastens to add. ‘If my brother said he’ll fix it, then he’ll fix it.”

“Ahem, report as results become available,” I hang up the phone.

Strange guard. We have our own good computer technicians in the guard.On the other hand, if this guard has brought in an outsider under his own responsibility, he is confident in him. Otherwise, if there is a problem, he could face disciplinary action. Evidence is not a toy for children.

In general, it’s strange. Someone seems to have deliberately destroyed the only camera on the street. Could Gornorudov have sent the beast under cover of noise? Or Paskevich Jr.? Or maybe someone from the Voronov family decided to take revenge?

Okay, well, why speculate? I’ll wait for the recordings to be restored. In the meantime, I have to do my homework and go to practice in the basement.

I need to master Darkness, Blood, Fire, Stone, Air, Mental Invisibility, and I can’t forget about my native Telepathy either. Otherwise, if, for example, Gornorudov comes to visit, what will I treat him with? Not Antonina Pavlovna’s pancakes. Surely the baron doesn’t eat our plebeian food. But the Hunger of Darkness or the Rock of Ruin, in my opinion, are a very baronial dish.

***

“You idiot, what have you done?!” Foma Zyablikov shouts when his nephew Gena opens the peeling door and lets the uncle into his cheap rented apartment.

“What’s wrong, uncle?” Gena blinks in confusion.

“Why did you scribble this?!” Foma points to an old sideboard, then to the front door, then to the mirror. “And this?! And this?! One wasn’t enough?! Does this crap wash off?! They’ll charge us a penalty for damaging the furniture! They’ll deduct it from the deposit!”

Throughout the apartment — on the sideboard, on the cabinets, on the mirror, on the TV stand, on the TV itself — the same inscription is written in white chalk:

Cockroaches, go fuck yourselves…!

Gena shrugs, still not understanding the reason for the complaint.

“Isn’t that how you’re supposed to use cockroach chalk? Is there a special spell required?”

“You imbecile, this isn’t an artifact!” Foma squeezes his temples with his fingers to calm down. His blood pressure soared from the stupidity of his nephew. The family will definitely come to an end with such a future head. “Where have you ever seen an artifact for ten rubles?”

“I bought the chalk at a stall for five hundred…”

“You were ripped off too,” Foma sighs, collapsing heavily into an armchair. “Are you sure you’re a telepath?”

“Actually, I passed the ranking commission,” Gena says offended, taking the question literally.

“Maybe they dropped you at the maternity hospital,” the head’s brother suggests, dropping his hand onto his face. “But they definitely didn’t switch you…They did a DNA test, checked it…” He looks ruefully at the inscribed mirror, under which a fat cockroach boldly runs, fearing no one.

“Uncle, why did you come anyway?” Gena asks sullenly and casts a hostile glance at the bag in the hallway. “There’s no extra space. It’s crowded enough in this one-room apartment for me and the cockroaches without you.”

In reality, Gena is worried that his uncle might look into the TV stand. He put a pile of money there, which he took out of the ATM that he broke when he released the Hornet-Thrower.

“Shut your mouth!” Foma roars. “Have you forgotten why you were sent to Budovsk? Why is the obstacle in the way of Enerova still alive?”

“Do I know?” the heir shrugs. “I released the Hornet-Thrower, as father said, but the beast apparently couldn’t handle it.”

“What do you mean, ‘apparently?’ You didn’t see it? Didn't you release it near Veshchy?”

“No, of course not,” Gena snorts. “A horde of monkey-rats was raging there, I wouldn’t get within a hundred feet of them.”

“Not only stupid, but also a cowardly chicken,” Foma sighs. “But the commoner Veshchy approached the horde and wasn’t afraid, was he?” Gena is silent, ashamed. “Your father spent his last money on another beast, but we can’t rely on you anymore. Now I’ll take care of Veshchy myself. And you’ll be a gofer, since you have neither brains nor courage, got it?”

“Sure,” Gena grumbles.

“Run and get soap and wipe off this crap,” his uncle nods at the inscriptions. “If you argue with me, I’ll burn all your neurons. They don’t work anyway.”

***

“Danila, we’ve received an order,” Eldar announces immediately upon calling, and you can feel the signature fox-like smile in his voice. “The Zyablikovs are asking you to tame a beast for them.”

“Zyablikov is Camila’s fiancé, isn’t he?” I ask.

“Yep, that’s right,” the Enerov heir agrees. “Self-proclaimed fiancé.”

“Don’t you think their offer sounds like a set-up?”

“That’s also right,” Eldar laughs. “Well, what do you say? Will you take it on?”

Intriguing Enerovs, damn it. Instead of dealing with these Zyablikovs themselves, they’re making it my problem.

“What did they promise for the beast?” I sigh. “They’ll leave Camila alone?”

“They did.” I can almost hear his lips creak, stretched into a wide grin from ear to ear. “If you manage to tame the beast.”

“What kind of beast is it?”

“A Borzoi.”

Hmm, it’s an easily trained species. Almost as obedient as a Hound. Consider it a distant relative of Rex. Only smaller in size.

“Definitely a set-up,” I conclude.

“Totally!” Eldar doesn’t argue. “So, you haven’t answered. Will you take it on?”

It dawns on me. After all, these Zyablikovs are a family of telepaths. I don’t know how strong they are, but they must have enough strength to train a docile species of beast. Possibly, Baron Goronrudov didn’t send that Hornet-Thrower (I’ve already found out the name of the beast), nor did Duke Paskevich, nor did the relatives of Voronov, but the bankrupt, poor, worthless Zyablikovs.

Right now, this realization is hitting me hard. At first, I didn’t even suspect the Zyablikovs. Recently, my self-esteem has ballooned, leading me to overestimate my position. I defeated the Voronovs, repelled the Gornorudovs, and subconsciously decided the smaller nobles were beneath me. However, they clearly don’t see it that way. They might easily try to kill me and those I care about. Only one thing can deter them: a title, or at least a coat of arms. In their minds, power without a coat of arms is illegitimate. I could fight that stereotype, but it would be a long, tedious, and illegal process. It’s easier to just get a coat of arms. That’s my immediate goal, and until then, I need to take every potential enemy seriously, even the small and weak ones, if only because they underestimate my power.

“I’ll take it on,” I simply reply. “I will tame the Borzoi for the Zyablikovs.”

“I feel like it’s going to be fun,” Eldar laughs evilly, just like a villain from cartoons.

I thought we were done there, when he unexpectedly asks:

“What have you decided about Camila?”

“First ‘crimson’ beast, remember?” I cool his ardor.

“Yes, yes, I’m not rushing, I’m just interested in the stage,” he smirks. I can already tell by his voice when he’s grinning.

“A ‘crimson’ beast hasn’t emerged in Budovsk yet. When it does emerge, the whole town will feel it,” I remark.

 “I don’t even know if I want that kind of happiness.” Eldar even shivers.

“It’s going to happen anyway,” I shrug indifferently. “Have you heard of Murphy’s Law?”

“About how the bread always falls buttered side down?”

“In our case, the butter is a ‘crimson’ beast,” I say calmly. “It will come to Budovsk. Sooner or later. All that remains for us is to prepare for that day.”

Chapter 18. Night Taming

After training, I take a shower and crash into bed.

No breakthroughs in my development have happened today. But I’m still satisfied. I can’t conquer Mount Everest every day. True mastery is built brick by brick. The main thing now is to strengthen my psionic connections and learn to quickly use the powers of the Collection. I need to be able to instantly snatch the Gift I need and apply the technique, for example, Dubny’s Stones or Voronov’s Darkness. Only perseverance and hard work can achieve the title of ‘the fastest gunslinger in the Wild West.’ In terms of speed, I still have a lot of work to do.

I’m also trying to create a powerful link between two Gifts: telepathy and Physiquemage. Two combined Gifts create a synergy of possibilities. I don’t know if Camila understood, but this insight came to me almost immediately. It’s already clear that forced acceleration of metabolism allows me to get energy from food faster. That’s just the beginning. The best is yet to come. Just think, it’s possible that I’m the only Physiquemage-telepath in the world. I have a tremendous advantage over other telepaths. I can accelerate my body many times over, and they can’t.

If I ensure super-optimal speed of brain processes, I can think faster than other mages. The prospects are breathtaking. Super-fast psionic strikes, instant data analysis, complex manipulations of brainwaves in a couple of moments. I can already do this, but there’s a catch: I need energy. A lot of energy. Enhanced nutrition won’t help. I could, of course, carry around a cart of food, but that’s too much. The energy reserve also doesn’t allow me to spend that much. I have a truly large accumulator, but even that won’t be enough for a life in nitro-mode. I can turn it on sometimes, but only sometimes, as I need to recharge immediately. Otherwise, terrible fatigue rolls over me.

I’ve already analyzed the structure of my body, and also leafed through scientific literature in the town library and came to a sad conclusion: energy alone is not enough. My brain simply needs an abyss of minerals, vitamins, and trace elements. The solution suggests itself — to use special drugs. But there are none. Dietary supplements don’t count, I already consume all sorts of creatines, amino acid complexes, energy drinks, and so on. I don’t just devour sweets by the ton.

Right now, I’m seemingly terribly tired from training, but I still lie awake and toss and turn in bed, going through the options. I just can’t sleep. Just imagine: immense power is a step away from me, and only one thing is in the way — a lack of fuel and building materials.

Of course, the answer is obvious — ‘holes.’ All sorts of beasts come from there. Surely, extracts from certain species will give me the necessary complex of nutrients. Only there’s no literature on the subject. I have someone to ask.

I resolutely get out of bed, throw on a robe, and stomp into the hallway. I quietly knock on the neighboring door.

“Someone can’t sleep,” a barely audible voice comes from the bedroom. “Come in, Danya.”

I don’t know how she knew it was me. But it’s Candy. Her sensitivity is off the charts. And her ears are bigger. Maybe she’s already learned to recognize me by the sound of my footsteps.

I go in and close the door behind me. The Alfar can’t sleep either. She’s standing by the window in a semi-transparent nightgown and moving gracefully in the moonlight.

“What are you doing?” I sit down on her bed.

“Dancing,” the slender girl twirls around and looks playfully from under her half-lowered eyelashes. “Don’t you want to join me?”

“Hmm, I have some questions that have matured here. Can we chat?”

“Of course, Danya.” She sits down smoothly next to me and looks questioningly.

I share the problem with her. No, I don’t tell her about the Legion. It’s better for no one to know about that. It’s not about my distrust. It’s just that the same Baroness Jeanne can easily break the shields and read minds. In general, I minimize the risks.

I simply tell Candy that I can accelerate my brain activity, but there’s a snag with the lack of energy and trace elements. The Alfar listens thoughtfully and nods to her thoughts.

“Danya, I know how to make energy and nutritional elixirs, that’s not a problem,” she says. “That’s the least I can do for you. But the situation is similar to the medicine for Maria Fyodorovna. I need time to find a replacement for the ginger willow and other auxiliary elements.”

“What about the main components?”

“You’ve already collected enough meat in the freezers,” Candy says. “The more diverse the beasts you collect, the better. It will be easier for me to find the ideal composition for the human body.”

“Will you take care of this?” I look questioningly at the blonde.

“Of course,” the Alfar smiles radiantly, and the darkness in the corners quickly runs away from the bedroom. “After all, you’re my melindo, Danya.”

“Won’t you decrypt that?” I guess not, Candy is too playful.

“You can look into my head and see for yourself,” this three-hundred-year-old ageless coquette amuses herself, arching seductively like a cat.

“Let’s get back to the elixirs. You need proper premises for research. I think we’ll rebuild the entire summer house into your laboratory,” I change the subject, not letting her throw me off. “We’ll buy various equipment there, create all the conditions for sterility, find you an assistant from the Perm Pharmaceutical College.”

“A very scrupulous approach,” Candy tries to look serious, but it’s clear from the mischievous glint in her eyes that the Alfar is preparing another prank. “But the assistant will have a salary, and what about me? I want a salary too!” she pouts. “But not with money! You’ll give me money anyway!”

“A very bold statement,” I laugh. “Okay, let’s say. So, what do you want?”

“Dance with me in the moonlight,” she seductively licks her lips and kneels on the bed.

“I won’t be twirling by the window,” I refuse outright.

“Who’s said we’d be dancing standing up?” surprises me by leaping on me suddenly, pressing her soft body passionately against mine, and I yield, letting her drop me onto the pillows. Well, then everything is classic. We dance in the moonlight. Lying on the bed. In different positions. Shedding our clothes beforehand.

***

Bzz. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzz.

I doze off snuggled up with Candy, but it feels like I’m abruptly awakened by a gravelly voice from above:

“Mazaka, noisy thing. Mazaka.”

With difficulty, I open my eyes and see Snakeling looming over me. The Gorgon is standing by the bed, a wide grin dancing on her blue lips. One of her four clawed hands is holding out the vibrating cell phone. Has she brought it from my room?

“Loud bzzzz,” the Gorgon complains. “Annoy shleep. Went to mazaka, him not here. Only loud thing. And mazaka with kitty.” Her grin stretches wider. “Petting kitty.”

“Thank you, Snakeling,” I whisper with a parched mouth and, taking the phone, answer the call.

“I’m Mother of the Brood,” the Gorgon grumbles in her usual way and, glancing with her yellow eyes at Candy snoring in her sleep and grinning once more, leaves the bedroom.

It’s Stepan calling.

“Danya, come to South Park urgently,” my stepfather shouts in a commander’s bass voice. “Coordinates: Barrikadnaya Street. The edge of the forest. Straight in one mile.”

“What’s happened?” I dangle my legs over the side of the bed and rub my eyes.

“A ‘hole’,” and he hangs up.

I leap up and rush to my room to get dressed. I wouldn’t let anyone in the world order me around. Since Stepan didn’t even ask for help, he simply didn’t have time for it. He might be in mortal danger right now. I have no desire to leave my mother a widow.

I grab the first clothes I see from the closet, quickly pulling on a T-shirt and jeans. Then I bolt to the garage. I jump behind the wheel of the Maybach. I don’t have a license, but screw it. I drove stuff like this in the army. Well, actually, in the army I didn’t see anything remotely like this. Sitting behind the wheel of a premium car with ABS, traction control and stabilization system? Pff. The most I did was crank the wheel of a Kamaz 53101. Wonderful memories: how I suffered because of problems with the fuel system and constantly changed the gasket under the eighth head — the sleeve was burst and flew out, and they wouldn’t give me a new one.

Roaring, the armored beast rushes away from the estate. I’ve never driven this beauty before, I’ve only listened absently to Nikita’s praise. Now I’m enjoying this pleasure to the fullest. Despite the body kit armor, this monster instantly accelerates to two hundred! Well, not instantly, in ten seconds, but that’s something! Why didn’t I drive it before! I got carried away with my telepathy, and here’s such a miracle! Just wow! Now I’ll drive myself more often.

It takes fifteen minutes to get to South Park. Abandoning the Maybach on the edge, I rush into the forest on foot. Two wide ruts are visible in the grass, but one can only drive further on an all-terrain vehicle, and the sedan’s suspension is too low. But it’s not far to go, I’ll cover one mile in five minutes running.

I remain vigilant. Both scanning modes are activated — mind and energy. Therefore, I detect the movement ahead long before I hear the shooting and the frantic roar of a dozen animal throats. I involuntarily get goosebumps down my spine. What monsters are they fighting?

I quickly dial my stepfather:

“Stepan, I’m here.”

“Thank God!” he says unexpectedly. “We’re retreating back to you now. Wait. All hope is on you, Danya.”

My eyes almost pop out of my head. Seriously? Flattering, of course, to hear that. But I definitely didn’t expect this from my stepfather. Although…Yeah, I think I understand what they’ve run into. Then yes, only I can handle this.

I’ve just come out onto a wide clearing. This is where I’ve decided to wait for my stepfather.

With a crash, five badly battered Tigers fly out of the darkness of the forest into the clearing. From the roof of one armored vehicle, the machine gun is torn off at the root, only a stub of the holder sticks out. The rest of the SUVs are badly dented too. The bumpers are chewed up, and deep claw marks gape on the armored sides.

“Danya!” Stepan jumps out of the lead jeep. My stepfather’s eyes are frightened, he is all splattered with blood. “Get ready to take them under control! They’ll jump out now!”

It’s very unusual to see the seasoned veteran so jittery and flustered.

“Everything will be fine,” I reassure briefly, striding towards the approaching pack. The beasts are not yet visible, but an angry growl and the hungry whining of smaller individuals are already coming from behind the veil of trees. “How many are there?”

Stepan hurries to reload his assault rifle.

“Twenty for sure,” he spits. “There were thirty. We’ve barely killed ten to make our way to the cars and slip away. Valuyev was wounded, and Gambler was badly bitten. Good thing Cat is safe and was able to heal them.”

“Twenty, then,” I say thoughtfully, and my words are drowned out by the approaching roar.

“Can you handle them?” my stepfather worries. “If anything, I called for reinforcements from the base. They’ll roll up soon. Even if we don’t manage to kill them without losses, the fight will be fierce, but they can’t be allowed into the town.”

“I can,” I say firmly, remembering the biology textbook. Namely, the structure of a group of animals of the same species, keeping together. That is, a pack.

By this time, the royal hunters have poured out of the remaining jeeps. Everyone’s faces are pretty scared, and the giant Valuyev seems to have facial paralysis: his stunned expression just won’t go away. Only Rex is running between the men who have raised their weapons, cheerfully wagging his tail and sniffing towards the roar. The wolf-bear is very excited.

“Rex! Come to me!” Stepan roars, and the healthy pet, dejectedly lowering his muzzle, runs behind the line of the royal hunters standing with weapons.

I whistle. The beasts finally break out of the semi-darkness of the forest. They simply knock down several trees in their path.

The sight is truly impressive. Have you ever seen a pack of bears? Huge, rabid black bears with elongated wolf muzzles. Well, I’m seeing it right now. This shaggy black avalanche is rushing straight at me.

If I hadn’t lived in post-apocalyptic ruins and hadn’t seen diverse mutants, I would have probably crapped my pants. But as it is, I just whistle. Well, I seem to be repeating myself today.

Hounds are formidable beasts. Definitely stronger than monkey-rats. It feels like ‘holes’ are a computer game where each new level is more and more difficult. This time, the ‘hole’ spat out a pack of hounds, Rex’s relatives. Serious opponents, to put it mildly. Unless, of course, there’s a telepath in the squad.

I kick into nitro-mode instantly. The brain processes accelerate, the thoughts race through my head at lightning speed. The world, on the other hand, slows down.

Of course, I’m not able to tame all the wolf-bears at once. Even though these animals have pliable psyches, my limit is fifteen. But I won’t overexert myself either. Why? Three subordinate individuals are enough for me: the alpha, the alpha’s mate, and the beta. The hierarchy is like in a wolf pack, and in any pack of animals, in fact, the structure is the same, even humans are no exception. The pack is always managed by the leader, and he is helped by his faithful mate and ‘right paw.’

It’s easy to identify the triad of leaders beforehand. These are the healthiest animals, who rush ahead of everyone, forming a wedge. Maybe even one leader would be enough, but okay, no problem, it’s better to be safe.

I quickly connect to the minds of the beasts and establish a simple mental seal: stop the pack and stand still. In the same second, the roar of the elite changes tonality. The triad of wolf-bears in the front turn around to their kinsmen and growl loudly at them. The avalanche of Hounds stops. The triad also comes to a stop. They couldn’t stop earlier, otherwise they would have been swept away by the Hound-hunters running behind. Therefore, it’s very important to give thoughtful seals, otherwise one can mess things up badly. The triad is my lever for controlling the pack. Losing it is out of the question, otherwise the wolf-bears will go crazy, and all that remains is to fight to the death.

I give the leaders a new instruction: do not touch humans. Then I immediately implement a system of commands to reinforce the new behavioral patterns.

“Ready,” I finally report to Stepan. “We need a truck to take the animals to the base. I’ll do intensive training there.”

“We won’t kill them?” the garrison commander frowns.

“Dad, what a cruel person you are!” I exclaim in amazement. “Why kill them? They are easily tamed! Look, what sweeties.”

“I see,” Stepan says gloomily, casting a glance at the snarling monsters. The claws and fangs of a couple of Hounds are glistening with blood — they managed to maul the royal hunters. Good thing the guys stayed alive. They were very lucky. One swing of a clawed paw is enough to take down a horse.

“Besides,” I continue to argue. “A pack of Hounds is a powerful brute force. You yourselves have just experienced this,” I point to the wounded Valuyev. Cat healed his wounds, but not the torn equipment. Stepan grimaces as if from a bitter pill. “It can be used to clear the territory around new ‘holes.’ They are also excellent guards, you know yourself. We must also not forget about Rex,” I nod at our excited dog. “Surely, he’ll find a girlfriend too.”

“You’ve convinced me,” Stepan grumbles, apparently finished off by the last argument. “Since you’ll take it on, why should I object? Let them live at your base.”

“Agreed,” I concurred. Why should I? Of course, I’ll have to spend time training twenty wolf-bears. But a pack of Hounds will add weight in my eyes in the aristocracy of the principality. The Ziablikovs will think ten times whether they should mess with me, or I might unleash my ‘doggies’ on them.

I take out my phone and call the base. Sergey is already sleeping at home, Jelly is on duty today. I order trucks with cages for transporting the animals from him.

“Dad, why did you arrive personally?” I ask Stepan when I finish talking with the guardsman.

“An abnormal ‘hole’ opened here,” my stepfather says. “Patrols informed me about it, and I decided to come and take a look, and then these mugs crawled out,” he nods at the pack.

“What’s the abnormality?” I ask with lively interest.

“Two ‘holes’ opened next to each other. But they both closed as soon as the Hounds jumped out.”

There’s something to think about. Unusual ‘holes’ like bait, and a pack of strong animals, like the closing teeth of a trap. Could this be a trap of an unknown powerful being? Or are we making the same mistake as the ancient aborigines, and endowing a natural phenomenon with reason? Like lightning is thrown by a bearded Zeus.

Soon my guard arrives in trucks. The cars stop at the edge of the forest, and I lead the pack to them. As soon as we load all the Hounds into the cages, we move out. Stepan decided to come with me in the Maybach.

“We need to discuss something, Danya,” my stepfather explains briefly, and I just shrug. If we must, we must. I still have a sleepless night ahead. Every Hound needs to be overlaid with mental seals. I can’t rely entirely on the triad, the whole pack must obey me.

We drive with my stepfather in silence. He occasionally looks at me with strange thoughtfulness.

“Listen, why don’t you have telepaths in the garrison?” I ask to break this incomprehensible silence.

“The staff rats were sorry,” the future colonel says with dissatisfaction. “But nothing, I’ll get us telepaths soon. Requests have already been sent everywhere possible. Today’s incident will only add arguments.”

He looks at me strangely again. I even want to shudder.

“Danya?” Stepan finally says.

“Huh?”

“When did you become such a skilled driver?”

Crap, I’ve been caught again. How many times can this happen!

Chapter 19. Furry Support Group

“Er-,” I respond, “I’ve observed Nikita drive, and learned. I’m smart, you know.”

“Ah, well that makes sense,” Stepan immediately relaxes. “My brain isn’t working. Okay, I won’t distract you. Keep your eyes on the road, or you’ll run someone over.”

The only thing I could run over now is a suddenly darting Bigus, but no amount of attentiveness will save it here: the car is armored, and it will smear the beast instantly. But we’re driving in the forest outside the town, the night highway is completely empty. Though I don’t insist on communication, and pretend to be an careful novice driver: both hands on the steering wheel, back straight, eyes glued to the road, illuminated by the yellowish light of the headlights. There’s no need to stress my stepfather with my casual driving, he’s had enough stress today.

We arrive in fifteen minutes, and the trucks rumble up shortly after. I immediately take the pack to a special animal hangar. Only the Platypusaur lives here, though he has a separate room behind the wall. Shere Khan and Nibbler roam freely around the base. They’ve earned it; they’re old-timers.

I start training. First of all, I work with the leader, who is a huge and burly wolf-bear with scars on his tanned hide. Despite his menacing appearance, he is quite obedient and manageable. Without thinking too long, I name him Akela and tame him while Stepan watches the process with interest.

My stepfather appears inclined to share something with me, but he is still undecided about it.

During the break, the guards bring me some sustenance — a box of energy bars and coffee. While I’m happily satisfying my hunger, Stepan finally says:

“I’m worried about these ‘holes.’ It’s unclear what will crawl out of there tomorrow.”

“That’s logical,” I nod. “The garrison needs more resources to repel the threat.”

“Yes, but there is also a problem with resources,” my stepfather frowns. “It’s not so much a lack of them as disorganization. Many Permian nobles are bringing their guards to Budovsk. Even Duke Velikopermskiy is already gathering detachments and will soon be camping here.”

“Wow,” I exclaim in amazement. “This is all in a few days of the ‘holes’ existence.”

“The nobles have already realized what a tasty morsel this is,” Stepan says, clearly unhappy about the prospect of future support. “They have a nose for profit. Other nobles besides the Permians would have been here long ago, but Duke Velikopermskiy doesn’t let anyone in except his vassals. This is his domain.”

I munch on a bar and think about how Budovsk is becoming the center of attention for military and political influences, first from within the duchy and then from the entire kingdom. Duke Velikopermskiy, of course, has enormous influence, but it’s unlikely that it will be enough to hold back aristocrats from the capital. If the duke isn’t a fool, he understands this and will try to catch as many beasts as possible while he has the monopoly.

“What exactly doesn’t suit you?” I ask my stepfather. “Today’s incident with the Hounds clearly showed that you need help.”

“This tourist boom cannot be controlled,” Stepan declares. “The nobles will interfere with us and themselves, and I won’t be able to restrain them: ‘holes’ don’t have a specific territory that can be assigned to them. ‘Holes’ open wherever they please.”

“I see,” I say, taking a sip of coffee.

Indeed, it’s not out of the question that the nobles might squabble among themselves over prey. At the same time, they might argue with the royal hunters when they arrive at the same holes as them.

“Solving such issues is not within your authority, Stepan,” I remark, “But within your command’s. Perhaps you could suggest that they issue a decree allowing you to establish the hunting order at ‘holes’? Just don’t deprive the nobles of hunting — it won’t work. Duke Velikopermskiy will immediately send you far away and go to appeal the decision, and maybe even go to the king himself. No, you need to cooperate with the duke and show him the benefits of doing so. Then, perhaps, he will agree to let you set the rules.”

“You’re making a point,” my stepfather says, taking a bar from the box. He unwraps the wrapper and bites off half of the chocolate. “I also had the idea to suggest something to the staff, but I didn’t really understand what exactly. That’s why I decided to discuss it with you first, Danya. But I’m used to having soldiers do as I say. If they don’t, it means they’re disobeying. And if they do that, it’s like shooting them according to the article.”

“You can’t shoot this time. Whether you want to or not, you have to change,” I sigh.

“Uh-huh,” Stepan mutters darkly. “I’m too old for changes. These ‘holes’ have appeared at the completely wrong time. Not that this happened twenty years ago. Good thing I have you as an advisor.”

“By the way,” I say, “Stepan, suggest a system of volunteer squads to command.”

“Hmm, how so?” the colonel queries, intrigued.

“Establish this order. If the nobles want to participate in the hunt, let them apply for registration in it as volunteers,” I elucidate. “You will distribute the ‘holes’ among the detachments through special communication.”

“Who are ‘you’?” Stepan asks.

“The royal hunters, of course,” I smile. “Also: it would be nice to protect the detachments from sudden attacks by their enemies. Protect with a decree. After all, many will want to take advantage of the vulnerability of volunteers weakened by the hunt. Those same bandits, for example, or competing nobles. Can you give the detachments immunity for the duration of the hunt?”

“I’ll suggest it to the command,” my stepfather nods, my stepfather says, nodding and listening carefully. “I’m glad I came. You always have so many ideas. That's what being young means.”

“Well, that’s all,” I shrug. “I’ve already said the main thing. By the way, you already have the first volunteer detachment. You can present it in your written proposal as a successful example of cooperation between the army and the aristocracy.”

“What detachment?” Stepan doesn’t understand.

“Young Slayers,” I smirk. ‘It includes me and my friends. We already have several successfully repelled sorties from the ‘holes.’ Note this in the proposal, Stepan.”

“But you’re not a nobleman,” he is puzzled.

“I’m not, but my friends are,” I hint that it’s not necessary to mention me at all in the report. For this there are more noble surnames — Sokolova, Kalyir, Enerova. Of course, I will remain the head of the detachment, but only as a gray cardinal, there’s no need to publicize my leadership.”

“Ah, right,” my stepfather scratches the back of his head. “My brain is fried. Must be tired from running around. Good idea, I’ll draw up a report with a proposal tomorrow. I’m going,” he pats me on the shoulder and heads for the exit. “And don’t stay up too late, Danya.”

“I’ll try,” I sigh, imagining how much work I still have to do today. Nineteen Houunds, to be exact. But it’s not good to tear ordinary wolf-bears away from their leader, so I need to finish. The beasts must understand each other so that I have a unified, friendly pack.

I finish training only in the morning. I kept running low on energy, requiring a constant intake of fast carbohydrates. So, two hundred bars were eaten and fifteen cups of coffee with sugar were drunk, but I managed, faka mazaka, as Snakeling says!

As a result, I’m lying on the floor without strength, and twenty huge Hounds are walking in a circle around me. The wolf-bears look at me with concern. One by one, they poke their wet noses into my face and lick me, checking my temperature and making sure their new owner is not ill.

“I’m okay,” I turn away from the next slobberer. “Just tired. Look how many of you there are, and I’m alone. Do you think it’s easy to teach such a crowd?”

The wolf-bears, seeming to comprehend, all become sad at once. I have to get up and pat a couple of these furry giants on the fur, so that the others can see that their owner is not angry. The beasts immediately perk up. How little these giant clumps of wool need.

Damn, it’s already eight in the morning. No one has canceled school. Especially since the first lesson is algebra. Antonina Pavlovna will wait for her favorite student.

I decide to leave the Hounds locked up for now. I still need to look at their behavior, and introduce them to other pets. Otherwise, Shere Khan will be very surprised if he notices a bunch of huge dogs in his ‘hunting grounds.’ I don’t want to bring the tiger to a heart attack.

After giving the on-duty guards instructions on feeding the pack, I urgently go home. Antonina Pavlovna is already gone. I change into my uniform, hastily eat an omelet and toast with jam for breakfast. Then I go down to the garage, where Nikita is waiting for me by the Maybach, looking very, very sad.

“Boss, someone drove the Maybach,” he rushes to complain to me. “Do you have another driver?”

“No, no,” I wave him off, opening the rear door of the car. “It was me, I drove it myself at night. I needed to rush to my stepfather and to the base, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Yourself?” he almost clutches his heart. “You can drive… Boss, am I not needed anymore?”

“You won’t be needed,” I lose patience, “If you don’t take me to school right now, which I’m already late for.”

The threat hits Nikitos like a bucket of cold water. He snaps to attention instantly, slams the door behind me, and, leaping into the driver’s seat, speeds me to my destination. I make it to class just as the bell lets out its ear-splitting shriek.

“Danila, you’ve made it,” Antonina Pavlovna beams, almost clapping her hands. “Can you demonstrate the homework solution to the class?”

“Let’s not today,” I walk to my place and, before the eyes of the surprised teacher, sprawl out at my desk. “I’m not feeling well today.”

Even Sveta on the left is shocked. Well, really, after the sleepless night I have no desire to act up at the blackboard, even in front of the gorgeous ‘queen of the pole.’ I didn’t skip school only to meet with the ‘Young Slayers.’

Antonina Pavlovna immediately worries and asks what hurts. I get away with words about general fatigue, after which Sokolova is called to the board.

“Well, thanks, Veshchy,” Sveta grumbles, getting up. “I just wanted to solve this example with you yesterday.”

Well, a minute of shame is guaranteed to her. But I don’t feel guilty, I’m too lazy. Instead, I will enjoy the comedy of the red-faced, embarrassed Sveta. I don’t have time to watch TV, so at least the school pleases me with funny episodes.

Three lessons later, at lunch, I tell my friends:

“Guys, confidential information has arrived from Stepan.”

“Are you sure we should be told?” Grisha immediately worries. “We will be obliged to pass it on to the families.”

Camila and Sveta nod, confirming.

“Report it,” I allow with a master’s shrug. “And also ask your bigwigs if they agree that you register in the volunteer detachment ‘Young Slayers’.”

I tell them about what my stepfather and I have conceived.

Hearing this, the nobles and Lena are incredibly surprised.

“So it seems,” Camila noted, “that within the framework of this decree, we will be following the lead of the royal hunt?”

“All the loot is ours,” I answer the brunette, but this doesn’t quite suit her. “And also, maybe they’ll pay extra. What bothers you?”

“Danya, understand me correctly,” she runs her hand through the waterfall of black hair. “I respect Stepan Timofeyevich. The royal hunters have done a lot for the town, but becoming their soldier is too much. I’m sure we can be thrown into a cruel meat grinder in which we will not survive.”

“Ah, that’s what you mean,” I immediately relax. “Don’t worry about this. Our detachment has powerful support that even an orange level beast can’t handle.”

“Powerful support?!” the guys exclaim simultaneously.

“W…” I almost spoil the intrigue, but bite my tongue in time. Let my friends see for themselves and be moved by the moment.

“Danya, spill the beans,” Sveta can’t stand it. “What are you talking about?”

“After school, we all go to my base, there I’ll show you,” I say mysteriously, and my friends have to put up with it.

They spend the remaining lessons in impatience. During the meditation session, they seem unable to get rid of ‘mundane thoughts.’ Only the sedate Grisha manages to control himself and finally catches the ‘pendulum,’ then Adiya is infected with her fiancé’s calmness. Lena also seems not very receptive to the news. However, Camila and Sveta constantly fidget on the yoga mats and even receive a remark from the teacher.

“Enerova and Sokolova, what’s wrong with you? You are like two lice today.”

Both girls flush, and I am honored with their furious glances. Only I don’t care — my ‘zen’ has already been caught, I’m going to swim in the astral waters. So what if the girls haven’t gotten a good meditation. This is training; they need to cultivate patience.

Right after classes, my friends jump into my Maybach, and we rush off to the base. When the hangar gates open, I say:

“Meet our support. Namely, Akela’s pack. Please love and cherish them.”

“Holy mother!” Grisha exclaims, his eyes even widening. Adiya squeaks something, covering her mouth with her hand. The Kazakh immediately rushes to shield his frightened bride.

“Wow,” Sveta breathes out.

Camila instinctively takes a step back, and Lena reflexively grabs my arm. For a pack of wolf-bears inspires fear even in the fearless. If he is not a telepath, of course.

But the ‘surprise’ doesn’t end there. I’m not just a telepath. I am a cunning telepath. Therefore, I throw to the pack:

“Greet them!”

In an instant, the huge wolf-bears with joyful whining rush to carry out the command. The ‘Young Skayers’ try to retreat, but the cunning Hounds take them in a ring, which immediately narrows to a tight contact. Frightened shrieks and puppy-like yelps can be heard throughout the base. The Hounds lick the hands and faces of my guests.

I stand and laugh, clutching my stomach. Only Lena is saved — she hides behind my back, and I wave off the ‘doggies’ who run up to us.

“Veshchy! If you don’t get them away, I’ll burn you to hell!” Sokolova shouts, covering her face with her hands.

Laughing aside, survival comes first. Therefore, I command:

“Home!”

Hearing this, Akela barks loudly, and the pack of Hounds rushes back to the hangar, wagging their tails contentedly.

My slobbered friends surround me, clenching their fists. Everyone’s faces are angry and wet.

“Danya!” Camila growls, and an air wave washes over me. “What has been that all about?!”

“I’ve introduced you to our support group,” I bat my eyes innocently. “They have to study the scent of their comrades. Such are the habits of the canine species.”

The brunette stares intently at my face, and it takes a lot of effort for me not to burst out laughing.

“I hope there won’t be any more such greetings?” she runs her hand through her black curls. “Or my hair can be wrung out!”

“I will conduct educational work with the pack,” I promise solemnly, placing my hand over my heart.

My classmates, after flashing their eyes a little menacingly, change their anger to delight.

“Wow, it’s still cool, Danya!” Grisha exclaims. “This is a pack of Rexes! They’ll tear any beast apart!”

“When did you manage to tame them?” Sveta turns to me.

“Yeah, just the other day,” I shrug. “Now you’ve seen my argument. Communicate with the heads of your families and decide. There are more and more ‘holes,’ but the competition will also grow soon. We must hurry. We can make a lot of money hunting.”

“It seems to me,” the blonde remarks suspiciously, “that you are pursuing some other goal, not just earning money.”

I only remain silent, smiling.

“This is Danya,” Grisha shrugs. “He can easily pursue a dozen goals, but what difference does it make to us? Danya never deceives. We really can earn money.”

“And if we refuse, Danya can call someone else,” Camila says quietly, and then adds right to the point. “After all, we are clearly needed to cover him up – so that the detachment is listed for us.”

The classmates ponder the proposition, except for Lena, who is always on my side.

“Decide: are you ‘Slayers’ or not,” I draw the line. “You have a couple of days.”

***

“A format of volunteer detachments?” King Boris says in surprise, reading the paper on the table. “Is this about the ‘holes’?”

“Exactly, Your Majesty,” the secretary bows. “The proposal was sent by Chief of Staff Kutuzkin Varfolomey Iosifovich. He asks you to familiarize yourself with it.”

“Hmm, well, the security forces know better,” the king absentmindedly runs through the text. “The idea seems good, the nobles will still flock there like flies to sh…ahem, but who are the ‘Young Slayers’? And why are they young?”

“I don’t know, Your Majesty,” the secretary bows deeply again.

“Well, it’s not schoolchildren. Commandos, probably,” Boris decides and takes the seal. “They have already worked well, according to the description. Let them continue to work. We approve.”

The king slams the heavy seal in the middle of the sheet, leaving a blue imprint in the form of a two-headed lion.

Chapter 20. After-School

“Oh, that restless Veshchy! He’s come up with some ‘Slayers’,” Albert Enerov grumbles, after listening to his daughter’s report. Heir Eldar is also present in the office. “Instead of simply enrolling as a son to Colonel Nevzorov, receiving nobility by inheritance, and marrying Camila. He always has to look for difficult paths.”

“The lad clearly has a grander goal than just entering someone else’s family,” Eldar remarks, smirking out of habit. “Then the Nevzorov surname will only hinder him.”

“I’m afraid we’re overestimating Veshchy,” Albert sighs, and Camila sadly lowers her head, not daring to contradict her father’s words. “What do you think about the volunteer detachment?”

“I think it’s a good move,” Eldar’s smirk widens. “Both for Danila and for us. We can get rich handsomely. Especially since the competition is still small.”

“What’s good about that?” Albert frowns. “The daughter is enriching the family!”

At these words, the brunette proudly raises her chin and straightens her back.

“Also, thanks to the detachment, we will be able to avoid concluding a marriage with Zyablikov even after Camila turns eighteen,” the heir adds.

“How?” the head doesn’t understand.

“She will be in the service of the king,” Eldar notes. “This is the same as a tour of duty on the frontier near anomalies, only the conditions are greenhouse. Dad, a military contract is a serious argument to postpone the marriage even further. Moreover, in a volunteer detachment, Camila will be able to take a long-term leave — educational, medical, and any other. I think Danila will help us with this. We’ll have more time for maneuvers.”

Taken aback, Albert ponders. He hasn’t considered the issue from this angle. He’s missed it. Is he really getting old?

“Okay, it seems I’ve spoken ill of Veshchy in vain,” the head reluctantly, with difficulty, admits. “’Young Slayers’ so be it. With a pack of tame Hounds, I think it’s not scary to go hunting for beasts. We just need to strengthen the detachment with guardsmen.”

“Dad, so I can join Danila’s detachment?” the brunette asks timidly.

“As it turned out, it’s even necessary,” Albert chuckles, glancing at the heir. “Your brother is the one to thank. It seems that only Eldar understands Veshchy’s plans.”

“If only,” Eldar immediately denies. “I can only see the benefit from his decisions. God knows what the guy is ultimately trying to achieve.”

Camila smiles happily. The obnoxious Zyablikov has been pushed into the background by Danila’s broad shoulders.

***

“‘Young Slayers,’ eh?” Vitaliy Sokolov drawls after Sveta’s report. “That’s actually a good move. What do you think, Dima?”

Dmitriy Stepanovich casts a tired glance at the blonde, who is frozen in trembling anticipation.

“I think that Veshchy is a real pain in the neck.” Seeing how worried his daughter has become, he sighs and waves his hand, “Ah, let them do what they want. Just so that this hunt is as safe as possible.”

“Danila has already taken care of security with his pack of Hounds,” the head of the clan nods. “But we will strengthen the medical team with a healer to provide timely first aid.”

“And throw more guards there,” Dmitriy adds.

“Yes, but don’t forget, we will also organize our own volunteer detachment,” Vitaliy smirks and winks at Sveta. “So as soon as the decree comes out, the ‘Slayers’ will have serious competition. Be afraid, niece.”

The blonde only smiles mockingly. The main thing is they’ve allowed it. She is not afraid of competitors. Grisha, Danya, and she have been hunting since they were kids. No guards will catch up with them.

***

“‘Young Slayers’ are a good move,” Rasul Kalyir nods thoughtfully. “Only the name isn’t quite appropriate, it would be better if it were ‘Young Batyrs’.” Suggest it to Danila, he’s the one in charge.”

After exchanging glances with Adiya, Grisha suppresses a smile.

“I’ll suggest it, but I think it’s already too late.”

“Oh well,” the head of the clan is not upset. “That’s not important. The main thing is that you, son, will fight and obtain meat for the clan, like a true batyr.”

From his father’s praise, Grisha straightens up, and Adiya proudly looks at her fiancé. But Grisha doesn’t forget about his bride and notes:

“Adiya and I will fight together, father.”

“You are a man and it is up to you to decide,” Rasul is not thrilled about the idea of a woman appearing on the battlefield. He sighs, “You know, son, I was worried you wouldn’t fit in with the people here in Budovsk. Your mother and I gave you a Russian name and have tried to introduce you to Russian culture since childhood. I am glad that you have made friends here. But I only ask you one thing: don’t forget your roots. Remember who you are,” he brings his thin black eyebrows together. “We Kazakhs always protect our women. And you should protect yours too.”

Grisha again exchanges glances with the smiling Adiya, then places his hand over hers on the armrest.

“I will definitely protect her, father. You know, dad, the Russians aren’t much different from us. Danila constantly says wise things almost the same as you. The wrapping is different, but the content is the same.”

“It seems your friend is also a true batyr,” Rasul nods.

***

“By the way, when are we going to heal Maria Fyodorovna?” I ask about the girl, devouring Antonina Pavlovna’s apple charlotte. The baked apples just melt in my mouth. Mmm, awesome. “The first buds have already appeared on the trees.”

Antonina Pavlovna has left early for work. Candy and I are sitting alone in the dining room, gorging ourselves on the baking of the best teacher in the world.

“The elixir is prepared; we just need the blossoming state of nature. I will perform the ritual in three days,” the Alfar winks at me. “Trust me, my melindo.”

I just snort. No matter how much I badger Candy, I have never been able to find out what that word means. The Alfar only smiles playfully at my inquiries.

“You can always penetrate my head and find out, my dear melindo,” she whispered seductively.

I have nothing better to do than waste energy on such trifles. I’ll do without this knowledge.

“Aren’t you going to be late for the kuldagebra, melindo?” Candy worries, and mischievous lights dance in her lake-blue eyes. She’s provoking me, the devil.

“No, I’m on time,” I wave off, stuffing another piece of apple pie into my mouth. “And if you keep egging me on, I’ll really climb into your mind and mix it up so that,” I take a triangular piece and aim it menacingly at the girl, “that you’ll think you’re a kitty, walk on all fours and purr.”

“I believe humans call it ‘role-playing’?” the Alfar muses and grins, “Melindo, if you want, I can purr for you without any mind-meddling at all…”

Our interesting conversation is interrupted by a call from the security post. The guard reports the arrival of a messenger from Duke Velikopermskiy. I instruct him to have the man brought to my office, and I go up there myself.

I have been waiting for a message from the duke for a long time. I don't have any strong reasons to think that he is interested in me, but I feel that he has become interested in me. The Sokolovs hinted at this, by the way. Since Duke Velikopermskiy is now based nearby, it was only a matter of time before he would contact me.

Several days have passed since the taming of the pack of Hounds. The Supreme Command adopted a decree on ‘Organizing Volunteer Detachments in ‘Mole Hole Zones,’ and Stepan was officially given the rank of colonel. Well, the Perm nobles immediately rushed to form these very detachments with catchy names like: ‘Beast Killers,’ ‘Noble Hunters,’ ‘Wrath of the King,’ and so on and so forth.

The royal hunters have allocated an entire building in South Park as a reception area for the detachments. There is now something like a chaotic marketplace — a crowd of people shouting and waving their arms frantically. These are representatives from the detachments trying to secure more interesting ‘holes’ for themselves. They shout out the name of their detachment and the number of ‘hole’ they want to rent, and the royal hunters record all of this information on a special card. I’ve also thrown four ‘bargainers’ into the fray myself. There’s no other way to get anything, otherwise we wouldn’t get a single ‘hole’. I tried to visit our ‘traders’ once and almost went deaf. Never setting foot in that ‘marketplace’ again.

Budovsk has transformed dramatically in just one week. Beast meat has become the town’s economic engine. The streets are crawling with noble guardsmen. The duke’s corps itself has even set up camp nearby: Duke Velikopermsky has joined the hunt in person. Probably a temporary affair. No doubt he’ll lose interest soon.

When the messenger enters my office, he stops in surprise. He hasn’t expected to see a guy in a school uniform. Well, I have lessons. Everyone has their own business, what’s so special about that?

“Ahem, I brought a message from the duke for Danila Veshchy,” the man declares.

“You are standing in front of him,” I reply.

The man widens his eyes, but refrains from comments. He hastily conveys that the duke wants to see me at his headquarters at exactly four o’clock, receives confirmation of the meeting, and leaves. I calculate my daily routine, taking into account the new input. I’ll make it to school, then, after the audience, I can go hunting. By that time, my ‘brokers’ will have knocked out a couple of good ‘holes.’

The problem with ‘holes’ is that only detachments with nobles can participate in the hunt. That is, I can’t do without my friends. Well, they can’t do without me and my pack of Hounds either, of course. But this class injustice really bothers me. Perhaps later, when there are even more ‘holes,’ the decree will be rewritten. Already, about twenty ‘holes’ are opening every day. A week ago, we couldn’t even imagine this.

“Murrr,” a purr from the living room interrupts my thoughts. I am just passing by on my way to the garage.

Already knowing what awaits me, I quickly peek into the room. Yep, Candy is playing again. She’s on all fours on the sofa, purring, mischievously smiling and arching her back like a cat. I wave goodbye to the playful Alfar and hurry to school. I don’t have time for her ‘role-playing games.’ ‘Kuldagebra’ awaits.

In the garage, Nikita has already started the Lynx. Now the Maybach is idle more often, it’s not time for a representative car these days. With the money earned from the Rogogor meat, I bought myself a new armored car with all-wheel drive and high clearance. New reality — new sled. Budovsk has turned into a war zone, and often my friends and I go hunting straight after school.

In general, we study as we usually do. However, there are some differences. For example, there is more security on campus, and I take care of the safety of my classmates. But more on that later.

“Hunting today?” Sveta asks excitedly at lunch. “I’ve spotted an awesome pearl necklace for the Predyakin ball. I want to buy it with my own money, not my parents’ money.”

“Playing grown-up?” Grisha teases her, for which he is rewarded with a prickly look from the blonde.

“Danya, hit him,” Sveta demands.

I keep eating my borscht.

“The Predyakins are throwing a ball?” I’m a little surprised.

“We are, Veshchy!” Iceman himself swaggers up to our table. After my lesson, Bogdan may be less brazen, but he still doesn’t miss an opportunity to boast about some pretentious nonsense. Here he is again, and behind him, that viper Katya Fitkina is smirking smugly. “We’re hosting the Duke Velikopermskiy himself!”

“Mikhail Yermolaevich?” I raise an eyebrow and say, “Oh, right. I’m visiting him today.”

In an instant, everyone’s eyes are glued to me.

“The duke?” the girls gasp. Even Fitkina, who hates me, has joined them.

“Why would he need you, Veshchy?” Predyakin immediately darkens. “You’re just a commoner.”

“What, are commoners not people?” I chuckle. “And, of course, I won’t tell you why. That’s just between the duke and me. I’ve only remembered this to coordinate the hunting schedule with my friends.”

Predyakin shuts up and looks at me disgruntled.

“Bogdan’s and my families have also created a volunteer detachment, by the way,” Fitkina suddenly declares, placing her hands on her hips and thrusting out her chest. “We’re hunting too, keep that in mind, Danila!”

Why she has blurted that out, I don’t understand. So what? After these words, Fitkina proudly raises her chin and, taking Predyakin by the elbow, pulls him away from our table.

“Two turkeys,” Camila smiles after them.

“Danila, so what about the schedule?” Lena looks at me.

I quickly settle our daily routine with the guys. We’ve decided to go together to the duke’s headquarters after lessons, my friends will wait for me in the car, and then we will immediately go hunting. I have nothing to talk about with Duke Velikopermskiy for long. Surely, he just wants to see the ‘curious little creature, Danila the telepath, who resurrected Baroness Gornorudova.’

In the middle of class, I’m called to the headmaster’s office. I know perfectly well why. I already spoke with him about the same thing the other day. The question concerns my contribution to the school’s safety.

“Danila,” the headmaster looks at me sternly. “Our security service has noticed a truck right outside the school grounds. The scanner senses a pack of anomalous beasts inside. Would you mind removing it?”

“We’ve already talked about this, Mr. Headmaster,” I sigh. “The truck contains the Hounds tamed by me. Immediately after school, I will go hunting. I need the beasts. Besides, their presence guarantees the safety of the students.”

“Veshchy, you’ll drive me up the wall!” the headmaster flares up. “Your Hounds don’t guarantee anything! They are a threat! Quickly remove your dogs! Otherwise, I’ll call your mother to school!”

“Listen,” I also lose patience. How dare he threaten me! I’ve been living separately from my parents for several months, by the way. “I vouch for my pets. Nobles buy beasts from me. The truck is actually outside the school, near the Enerovs’ manège. That is not your concern.”

“So that’s how you talk now!” the headmaster continues to butt heads. “I’ll file a complaint with the magistrate, you’ll regret this, Veshchy!”

“Looks like we won’t agree,” I shrug. “Well, file your complaint. Just keep in mind: the town is different now. Armed guards alone won’t be enough for anything.”

“Get out of here,” the headmaster jumps up and points to the door. “You’re too cheeky with me.”

I shrug and leave. The problem with the headmaster is that he still sees us as children. But what kind of children are we? Even Predyakin and Fitkina are already hunting beasts. I don’t even mention myself.

The headmaster’s threats hasn’t frightened me at all. The magistrate is too busy right now, it has no time for school squabbles: guests from ‘holes’ are flooding the toen every day. Besides, I’m sure: sooner or later, the Hounds will get a chance to prove their usefulness to the headmaster.

However, I turn out to be too pessimistic — that chance comes today. After a couple of lessons, the entire school building suddenly wails with an alarming roar of sirens. The students even jump in their chairs from surprise.

“Attention! This is not a drill!” the speaker under the ceiling shouts. “Students and staff, urgently exit the building! Towards the gate…A-A-A-AH! No-o-o!”

The speaker spits out the roar of gunfire and the growl of some creature, then there is only the whining voice of the beast.

“They’ve been eaten,” Sveta calmly remarks. My desk mate gets up from behind her desk and quickly folds her textbooks into her backpack.

I also quickly pack up. Most of my classmates haven’t panicked. So what if beasts attacked? Are we not mages? We’ll blast them in the face with a fireball any second now.

Lena and Camila, already packed, approach me. A frightened physics teacher hurries everyone to evacuate. In the hallway, we are caught up by a retreating crowd. The students and teachers leave the school building in a rapid stream. Antonina Pavlovna joins our group. From somewhere in the left wing, there is a roar of gunfire, stomping, and growling sounds. The guards are holding back the uninvited guests as best they can.

I call the support group on the way and order the truck with the dogs to be brought to the school.

“Danila, what do you think they are?” a tense Lena asks when we get to the parking lot.

The street is crowded. Some get into their cars and leave, malicious truants. The other students look at the school building with interest. Battle sounds emanate from the windows.

“I don’t know, but someone weak,” I answer. “They’ve attacked from the fields on the left wing, but only now have been able to break through to the right, thereby giving us a head start to get out.”

“Maybe they’re monkey-rats,” Sveta suggests.

I shrug.

“Won’t we going to help the guards?” Camila asks. “They’ll all be eaten.”

“It’s their job,” I reply to the girl. “We stay with the students.”

The brunette nods, accepting my point of view: we can’t risk classmates and teachers for the lives of those who were hired to protect us.

At that moment, a covered truck with the Hounds hurries into the parking lot. There is a soft rustle of wide tires and a hoarse, measured tap of a well-tuned engine. The tall car stops between rows of cars.

“Boss, release the beasts?” asks the driver, who jumps out with a pistol at the ready.

“I guess it’s time,” I say, glancing at the windows on the second floor. Huge apes, seven feet tall, are jumping from there. Red horns branch out on each of their heads.

“Oh, crap!” Sveta hisses. “Those are red Biguses!”

Yep, the blonde is right. We encountered one of those before. Yellow threat level. Everything would be fine, but now there are at least twenty of them.

Chapter 21. My Horns

Following the truck, the rest of the ‘Young Slayers’ support group arrives: healers and several fighters to escort them. The vehicles stop, and people pour out.

“Boss, what are your orders?” the group leader approaches me.

There is still a decent distance to the red Biguses. The beasts are gathering near the school building. Huge gorillas shake their horns and inflate their wide nostrils, sniffing. They have surely noticed the students behind the cars, but they are not rushing towards us yet. Perhaps they are waiting for the rest of the pack to arrive before they attack.

“Release the Hounds,” I nod to the driver, who is unlocking the doors of the truck. “Don’t interfere yourselves. Fence off the students and don’t let them near the fight.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Veshchy! No beasts!” the headmaster screeches, poking his head out from behind the backs of the classmates surrounding me. “Let your people fight! Don’t you dare release the beasts!”

By this time, the driver has already unlocked the doors, and black wolfish noses stick out of the van.

“Mr. Headmaster,” I say calmly. “My guards are not foolish enough to fight the ‘yellow threat.’ Your guards tried, and now they are not alive. I’m releasing the Hounds.”

“Don’t you dare!” the headmaster continues to screech. “You’re putting the children in danger! Just try to release them, and I’ll ruin your diploma! You won’t graduate from school and no university will accept you!”

It’s some kind of surrealism — to threaten me with a grade failure when our lives are at stake.

“Seriously?” I chuckle and throw to the Hounds who have stuck out, “Akela, back.”

The wolf-bears obediently go deep into the body. The driver closes the door, but does not lock it.

“Danila, what are you doing?” Sveta cries out, grabbing my sleeve. “Don’t listen to the headmaster. He’s having a nervous breakdown. Only you can save everyone!”

“Mr. Headmaster doesn’t think so,” I continue to watch the Biguses.

That’s exactly why I’ve held back the Hounds so far. These are very unusual apes. I need to watch their actions, and the appearance of the wolf-bears might scare the beasts away.

Why haven’t they attacked yet? Interesting specimens. The apes line up either in a wedge or a hook, just like some ancient Romans.

The students are already quite worried. The few who arrived independently have already hopped into their cars and sped away through the open gates. They still had room in the cars, but for some reason, the bastards didn’t think about their classmates.

Only the students who were brought by personal drivers, as well as the commoners delivered by the bus, remained. They have nowhere to go. There are almost no cars left in the parking lot.

“We need to retreat to the road and run!” Our headmaster is illuminated by an idea. “While the apes are not attacking yet.”

I say nothing. If the man wants to come up with nonsense, let him come up with it.

“Mr. Headmaster, that’s stupid,” Camila declares, approaching the man directly. “The Biguses will catch up with the retreating. Allow Danya to release the Hounds. This is the only chance for us to hold out until the detachment arrives.”

“Enerova, you can’t decide such issues,” the headmaster cuts off her objections.

At this time, the lined up Biguses quickly rush to the parking lot. The right flank of their formation rushes to the gates to block the way to retreat, while the left takes us in a semicircle from the other side.

“Akela, attack!” I shout loudly, turning to the truck.

“Veshchy! Don’t you dare!” A squealing girl wakes up again in the large headmaster. “Otherwise, you won’t see your diploma!”

“You can shove it up your ass!” I roar in response, and he grunts in surprise, stepping back a couple of steps in shock.

With a crash, the body doors swing open, and a pack of Hounds leaps out into the eyes of the dumbfounded students. The black wolf-bears almost knock down Predyakin, who got in the way. Iceman covers himself in icy armor in horror, falls on his butt, and squeals shrilly. The beasts jump over him, not even noticing, and rush towards the school. The proud wolf-bears don’t care about the cowardly kid — they are eager for a fight with the Biguses.

The horned apes and black Hounds clash. Growls and squeals are heard from all sides. The wolf-bears are stronger, but there are more Biguses, so the battle drags on.

My guards stand between the beasts and the students, acting as a barrier. I walk past my people and hit the nearest Bigus with psionic discharges. The horned primates are invulnerable to mental control, but they feel the psi-strikes very well.

I continue to strike. The psionic bludgeon on the neurons creates a delay in the ape’s movements, Rama, Akela’s ‘right paw,’ uses this and tears the primate apart.

Lena, Camila, Sveta, and Grisha stand next to me. The friends join me and unleash attacks on the Biguses.

“Well, Veshchy, damn it!” Sveta shouts after throwing a couple of fireballs. “You’re so rude! Shove it up your ass?! He’s a headmaster!”

“I liked it, indeed,” Grisha laughs between lightning strikes. “It sounded beautiful. Camila, say it did?”

“It was shocking,” the brunette smiles, scattering air blades.

I’m not thinking about the headmaster at all right now. I need to focus on helping my pets. It sucks that I can’t use the Legion in public. But at least there is an opportunity to study the effect of psionics on mentally stable beasts. What have I found out? It is impossible to reprogram them, but the discharges are painful for them. Well, psi-constructs also knock them down well.

It is worth giving credit to other students as well. One by one, they join us. Even Predyakin tears his icy ass off the ground and also acts as fire support. Ice stakes pierce the huge Bigus, and the wolf-bear Raksha immediately grabs the wounded primate by the throat.

“Oh, who has joined us!” Grisha laughs. “Fangs have grown, Predyakin?”

“I just don’t want to owe Veshchy my life,” Iceman grumbles from under his icy helmet.

“Too late. Already owe,” Sveta remarks, pointing to the Hounds.

“Well, at least I won’t be completely,” he hopes.

The battle lasts a maximum of three minutes. The artillery support of the students helped the Hounds to instantly take the initiative in the battle and tear most of the primates to pieces. Now the wolf-bears are finishing off the last enemy.

I scan the territory in case some of the apes hid. Empty here, empty there, and here… Damn! I turn sharply to Fitkina:

“Katya, step away!”

“What?” the girl blinks, when suddenly a horned ape jumps out from behind the hedge of the school garden towards her. “A-a-ah! Help!”

“Argh!” the beast roars, looming over the young lady.

I rush to the beast, simultaneously firing a mental discharge. The girl is without armor, which means that even touching of the clawed paw is deadly for her.

While the discharge slows down the Bigus, I push Katya aside with one hand, and form a psi-whip in the second. I lash the ape across the face. The beast, howling, falls and rolls towards the guys.

“Hit!” I yell.

They immediately unleash a hail of attacks on the beast. Lightning, fireballs, ice floes and sharp steel stakes leave no living place on the Bigus.

Well, we have a good lesson learned. I scan the territory again, this time more carefully. Clean. Definitely now. It’s over.

However, I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t report to the headmaster. Beckoning the pack, I order them to move towards the head of our educational institution. And he, seeing the shaggy tornado that rushed towards him, trembles and barely stays on his feet. It seems that the man has sprayed his pants. Although the latter could have happened earlier.

The Hounds surround the pale headmaster. I walk inside the circle and ruffle Akela’s chin. The scarred wolf-bear is dragging and wagging his tail slightly.

“Mr. Headmaster, please forgive me for the recklessness,” I sigh. “I couldn’t resist, attracted the beasts, and even called you names. Now you will expel me?”

Akela looks attentively into the man’s eyes, and he almost faints.

“D-Danila, what are you talking about?” the headmaster trembles. “Everything is fine. We were in a stressful situation. Happens to everyone…”

“Thank you,” I nod. “For a truly pedagogical approach.”

“Well, I’ll, uh, go?” he mumbles, looking back at the beasts.

“Why are you asking?” I wonder. “No one is holding you.”

But the headmaster continues to stomp in place, looking at the circle of beasts. I order Rama and White Fang to step aside. The headmaster hastily retreats into the resulting passage in the shaggy wall.

“What are you standing for?” I look over the quieted students. “Don’t you want to thank our defenders? Katya?”

“H-how, Danila?” the girl stutters a little.

“To pet, of course,” I smirk. “Come on, be bolder.”

The frightened girl touches Raksha’s shaggy side with a trembling hand. But the wolf-bear looks at the student favorably, and she, emboldened, begins to pet the beast with both hands.

“You guys come up too,” I wave to the remaining students.

Soon the parking lot turns into a kind of ‘dog café.’ The students responsibly pet and scratch the Hounds, and some even hug the huge beasts. I smirk. The students quickly got the hang of it. Now they can’t simply be pulled away from the pack. A couple of girls got completely insolent and are braiding Raksha’s hair. They would braid Akela’s too, torturers, but I didn’t allow the leader of the pack to be humiliated.

“What a good doggie!” is heard from all sides. “You sweet little thing!”

The wolf-bears, overcoming themselves, endure the caresses, and someone, like Rama, for example, even likes it, even though he is the ‘right paw’ of the leader, the first warrior in the pack, ruthless and stern like the tundra. Now this ‘first warrior’ is lying on his stomach with his paws twitching, getting high from the strokes. It’s great fun. But the kids have relieved stress. After all, as regrettable as it is, the school has turned into a cemetery, and big shaggy dogs’ help children to distract from the horror they experienced.

During such a pastime, we are waiting for the police, noble guards, royal hunters, representatives of the magistrate, and many others. The students are picked up and taken to their homes, the bodies of the dead guards are packed in black bags, the school grounds are cordoned off. I remain to make sure that no one appropriates my Biguses. No way for them all! My pack tore the apes, which means the priceless horns of the primates are mine by right.

My stepfather also arrives. The colonel doesn’t really need to be here himself, but apparently the case is significant, or perhaps he just couldn’t resist the old habit.

“Great, that’s all we need,” Stepan says gloomily, pacing between the torn bodies of primates. My stepfather turns to me, “Your doing, Danila?”

“Well, I didn’t personally gnaw on them, of course,” I reply. “Akela and the team tried their best.”

The colonel sits down near the corpse and taps his knuckles on the red, branching horn.

“There are so many horns here that if you grind them, mix them with water and drink them down in one gulp, you will develop anti-telepathic immunity,” Stepan remarks and, after thinking, adds, “If you doesn’t kick the bucket.”

“Cool. Only these are my horns,” I immediately stake my claim. “What is taken in battle is sacred.”

“Yes, I’m not taking them away,” Stepan dismisses me, getting up. “Damn! So many beasts had to fall at once! If anything, you can already start packing up your prey.”

I immediately give the go-ahead to my team, and the guards begin to load the ape carcasses into the waiting freezers.

I approach my stepfather and quietly ask:

“How did you miss the ‘hole’? You have scanners everywhere, and the nobles are hunting for ‘holes’.”

“Very simple,” Stepan sighs. “The ‘hole’ was given to a volunteer detachment to close, but it did not hold it. The Biguses smeared the squad and rushed through the wilderness around the town until they stumbled upon the school.”

“Hmm, it will cost someone their head,” I remark.

“Correct — the owners of the detachment,” the colonel reports. “We have already examined the bodies of these poor fellows. The detachment’s equipment was complete garbage… No powerful firepower, nor, most importantly, normal communication with the center. They went on a mission to the forest with civilian cell phones! With cell phones!” he fumes. “That’s what a noble volunteer detachment is for you. It is clear that the volunteers could not even warn about a superior enemy. Cell phones don’t work in the forest. They just died and that’s it.”

Bad.

“What will happen now?”

“We will conduct an inspection of all detachments for compliance with hunting equipment requirements,” Stepan replies harshly. “Whoever does not have powerful radios, transport, or firearms will be weeded out. In general, we will introduce hunting licenses. As it turned out, the coat of arms is not yet a sign of quality. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I see, but I’ve asked about the owners of the detachment,” I clarify. We, fortunately, acquired field communication devices, ammunition, and all the other necessary things.

“Ah, those ones,” my stepfather shrugs. “I will file a complaint with Duke Velikopermskiy, and also write a report to the command. Let them decide. I think it might even come to a show shooting. Negligence is a serious article.”

A major disaster, but a deserved one.

“Who owned the detachment?”

“Some Fitkins,” my stepfather throws and goes to his subordinates to give orders.

Eh, it’s a pity for Katya, but still.

“Danila, can I talk to you?” a familiar voice calls me from behind. I turn around and, sure enough — Katya Fitkina, speak of the devil. Although all the students have already left, including my friends, this young lady is still here for some reason.

“Yes, of course,” I nod. “I think our whole class has already scattered to their homes.”

“I’m waiting for the driver, something is delaying him,” she sighs and shyly lowers her gaze. “But maybe it’s for the best, since you’re still here.” The girl takes a deep breath, “I want to apologize for all my attacks on you. I am also sorry that I treated Lena badly. And thank you, Danila, for saving me from the Bigus.”

“You’re welcome, Katya,” I reply. “Take care of yourself.”

“Okay,” she smiles and walks to the approaching driver.

The girl is unlucky. Although, everything might be okay, and her grandfather won’t be shot.

The guards finally load the last Bigus carcass and leave for the base, and the truck with the Hounds also leaves. I’ve decided to let everyone go. I won’t hunt anymore today; the catch is so great. And the rest of the ‘Young Slayers’ are also tired, let it be more psychologically, but the fact remains.

Therefore, I set off to the duke’s headquarters with a light load. His corps have set up camp in South Park. The guards built a tent town on the edge of the forest: they fenced off the territory with a freshly planed fence, set up tents inside, dragged beds into them, and that’s it. True, Duke Velikopermskiy preferred to rent someone’s country house rather than a tent, but he is a duke, he can.

At the gates, I am met by a guard, at least of the Master rank. This is what I guess by the amount of energy that circulates in his accumulator. Yes, I’ve ‘turned on’ the scanner consciousness. I’m interested in everything here, so I’ll stick my mental nose everywhere.

“Who are you?” the guard approaches the Lynx.

“Danila Veshchy,” Nikita says, lowering the window. “Here to see the duke.”

For my part, I also lower the window so that the guard can see me.

“Drive through,” he nods, receiving a message from someone on the headset in his ear. Maybe even from a scanner or telepath, who checked that there was no one else in the car besides Nikita and me.

We stop in a barrier-fenced parking lot. There, I am met by another guard with a machine gun, who escorts me to the duke’s office.

Duke Velikopermskiy is a gigantic man with a mustache. I even wanted to activate the red-haired strongman Dubny to compare their dimensions, but I spared the energy. In addition to the Duke, a pale young man is also sitting in the office. The guy is clearly unhealthy and weak. He has less magical energy than a mosquito's shit, but he is wearing a uniform with the signs of a guard commander. I heard that the duke’s youngest son has some kind of magical rejection.

“Your Excellency,” I bow as befits.

“So we’ve finally met, Danila,” Mikhail Yermolaevich smirks in his mustache, sprawling in his chair. “Look, Glebushka, at the most talented telepath in our duchy. He’s come up with the idea of creating the first volunteer detachment to fight ‘holes’.”

“Hello, young man,” the young duke looks down on me. “What is that on you? A school uniform?” he asks with a smirk.

“Exactly.” Why is he laughing? My uniform is neat and clean. Or is the young duke amused by the very fact that the schoolchildren is stronger than him as a mage? If I were in his place, I would be crying from my own worthlessness.

“Sit down, Danila, and tell me,” the duke points to another chair. “How did you manage, son, to do the impossible and resurrect Baroness Gornorudova?”

Damn. Pam-Pam-Pam. I should have prepared for this line of questioning. Now I will have to improvise.

Chapter 22. Nobleman’s Word

“Your Excellency, my successes are entirely thanks to my mentor, George the Brainiac,” I say, settling comfortably into the plush high-backed. “It was he who prepared me for various non-standard tasks.”

““George the Brainiac?” Duke Mikhail raises an eyebrow. “Never heard of the man.”

“A talented teacher, a wise mentor, an experienced specialist,” I keep praising my first and so far, only telepath teacher. “He serves in the Sokolov family.”

“Hmm, I need to ask Vitaliy about him,” the duke muses thoughtfully. “Perhaps he will lend his unique specialist for a while to conduct professional development courses for telepaths in my detachment.”

“This will be invaluable experience,” I support the idea.

There — responsibility shifted, and Brainiac gets some extra coaching work. Maybe they’ll let me go now? I want to stop by the pancake shop and eat my fill. My medics put a field IV drip on me in the school parking lot. My accelerated body quickly absorbed a whole bag of saline and glucose. So, my energy spent on the Biguses has been replenished. But I’m still damn hungry.

“Then, Danila, maybe you will solve my non-standard task?” Mikhail squints, so that his shaggy eyebrows slide over his eyes. How does he even see through that thicket?

“I am at your service,” I shrug and think: well, I’m being put to work here too. But I have to agree: I can’t send the duke away, and it’s profitable to have a good relationship with him. Plus, he’ll definitely pay for the job.

Mikhail takes out a strange iron cube from under the table and throws it to me. Catching it, I am surprised by its lightness. It feels almost weightless, and the metal surface is perfectly smooth, without a single weld seam. This is far from its only feature. Inside the cube, a huge energy is felt. But it is not the cube itself that emits it; rather, it's just a container for something much more powerful, some sort of artifact. Hmm, interesting thing. Clearly forged from an anomalous metal, like my ‘razor.’

“My guards found this cube near the ‘hole’,” the duke says. “More precisely, inside a Swallower. The beast swallowed it. During the autopsy, the cube was pulled out of the intestines.”

Heh, an original treasure hunt. Swallowers are beasts that swallow everything in a row. Both edible and not so edible.

“An interesting item,” I turn the cube in my hands, listening to it. Whoa! This is not just packaging for an artifact. The cube also serves as a mental safe-puzzle. Around the cube is hung a jumble of psionic connections. If one connects them correctly, the ‘lock’ will open, and the artifact will become accessible. Such a peculiar Rubik’s Cube for telepaths.

“Have you felt it, Danila?” the Duke asks with a smile, watching me.

“Father, what can a schoolboy feel?” Duke Gleb snorts. “Not even all of our telepaths felt it.”

“That’s a mental code,” I remark, to Gleb’s surprise and his father’s amusement. “A cipher made of psionic linkages. Are you asking me to crack it, Your Excellency?”

“Ha! Exactly!” Mikhail claps his hands loudly once. “Scanners say that inside this cube is an object imbued with powerful energy. I would like to obtain the artifact, but none of our telepaths has been able to solve the puzzle.”

“Have you tried breaking it?” I ask thoughtfully, looking at the cube.

“There is a possibility that the artifact will self-destruct,” Mikhail remarks. “It’s not for nothing that someone put such an intricate puzzle on this thing.”

“Also true,” I agree, while running mental tentacles through the psionic connections. “I won’t solve it quickly. I need time.”

“How presumptuous,” Gleb snorts. “Will you even solve it at all?”

“If you doubt it, you can take it back,” I extend the cube towards the young duke. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone.

“Of course, you need time,” the duke easily agrees with me. “This is not a crossword puzzle in a newspaper. Our telepaths gave up immediately. They say the psionic threads are too thin, impossible to catch with any construct. They gave up, weaklings, without even trying,” Mikhail grimaces disdainfully. “Will two weeks be enough to figure it out?”

“I will try to manage it,” I nod.

The threads are very thin indeed. Even I will have to strain myself. Most likely, I will need to invent a very precise psi-construct to help, though I drink Candy’s elixirs, so I have very developed fine mental motor skills.

Gleb, looking at me, wrinkles his nose, but does not dare to challenge his father’s decision.

“Then it’s a deal,” Mikhail smirks. “Danila, good luck to you. If you have any problems with any of the nobles during these two weeks, just let me know, and they will stop bothering you.”

“Thank you for your support,” I stand up, quickly bow, and leave.

The duke’s protection is a nice perk, though I doubt I’ll need it. However, I won’t make predictions, but I need to study this cube carefully. And it’s also desirable to solve the puzzle from the Other Side. If I do Duke Velikopermskiy a favor, he will highly value my residence in his duchy. Perhaps various benefits will follow: tax breaks, customs duty discounts, favorable loans...

***

Five days have passed.

During this time, I’ve fully embraced the motto: ‘Strike while the iron is hot.’ Namely, I hunt beasts every day. While the meat of the beasts is still being grabbed up as fast as we can get it, the ‘Young Slayers’ are extracting such a valuable resource every day. We’ve established supplies and purchased freezers.

‘Holes’ are already opening at twice the rate, the number of volunteer detachments has increased many times over, but soon there will not be enough Permian guards to repel all the attacks of the beasts. With the permission of Duke Velikopermskiy, volunteer detachments from other duchies began to be admitted. So far, only those lucky ones who are personally favored by the duke have made it onto the list.

Now I’m sitting in the office and doing… homework. Damn it, I’m actually doing it — curse these assignments! The school is temporarily closed, mourning has been declared in the town for the killed guards, but Antonina Pavlovna did not let Lena and me languish as ignoramuses. No, our teacher took care of us with redoubled force, because she has no other students right now. Oh. Understand me correctly: I’m not complaining at all. Antonina Pavlovna is definitely the beauty of my eyes, the unshakeable Queen of the pole, and so on, but my brain is already boiling from a bunch of things, and here are these parallelograms and equilateral triangles.

I sigh and decide to distract myself with the mental Rubik’s Cube. With the help of a psi-scalpel, I again sort through one of the hundreds of possible algorithms for joining psionic connections. While I have not solved the anomalous puzzle, I seem to have almost found the right combination. At least, with a certain connection of the links, half of the mental bonds are already revealed. It’s only a matter of time: the main thing is that there is a tool. It only remains to sort through the layouts.

A booming clap sounds outside the window, I’d even say a small explosion, but I don’t get distracted, continuing to sort through the combinations of connections.

“Mazaka, boom!” Snakeling’s guttural roar sounds behind me. She is so frightened that she hasn’t even bothered to open the door — she’s just seeped through it. That happens to Gorgons. When she gets scared, she becomes incorporeal.

“Snakeling, it’s just Candy experimenting in the lab again,” I note. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I am Mother of the Brood,” the Gorgon grumbles and throws a startled look at the window. “And I no fear. I stay with mazaka. Pro-tect mazaka.”

“You’re welcome,” I shrug, returning to the cube.

It’s funny that Snakeling, the invincible killing machine, is afraid of loud noises. The other day Maria Fyodorovna accidentally popped a balloon, and the Gorgon immediately dove into the nearest wall.

Candy finally has her own laboratory. We converted a summer cottage for it, then dragged in various expensive equipment. Also, I hired two alternating assistants from the pharmacy college. Now I’m waiting for the energy elixirs.

Alas, we still haven’t cured Maria Fyodorovna,. This week has been rainy, and Candy needs to dance on a flower field under the moon and sing melodic songs to ‘infuse the elixir with the forces of nature’ for the final touch. Don’t ask, I didn’t understand a thing myself. If she says it’s necessary, it’s necessary. Candy knows best. So, we’re waiting for the clouds to clear.

I have more than enough to do as it is. And the Zyablikovs with their Borzoi are dragging their feet. Apparently, their planned dirty trick isn’t working out.

The cell phone vibrates on the table. Tamara, HR director, is calling.

“Yes, Tamara Alekseevna?”

“Danila Stepanovich, I’m on speakerphone with Kirill Proshkin. We are calling regarding the organization of a branch in Budovsk-”

“I still don’t understand,” Proshkin interrupts the woman. “What do we need a branch in such a backwater for? Excuse me, Danila Stepanovich, I understand that this is your home, but it is an industrial wasteland.”

“Have you been watching the news?” I ask sharply. “Have you heard that ‘holes’ are opening up here, and half of the duchy’s guard has already gathered? Right, Kirill Pavlovich?”

“But the military and business are completely different things…” he tries to object.

“The meat of the beasts is now more expensive than gold,” I counter. “Investments have already flowed in here. The square meter of land is getting more expensive every hour. Yes, it’s dangerous here, but at the same time, Budovsk is a real ‘platinum mine.” After finishing the explanation, I order, “Immediately complete all the necessary staff for the business trip. You have exactly one week for the entire organization. I don’t need another Valentino here. We are creating Energosynthesis, which will deal with the processing of raw materials, accounting, and classification of the beasts. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Danila Stepanovich,” Tamara reports. “I’ve already prepared the staffing table. The recruitment of missing specialists is underway.”

“Good,” I nod. “Let me know immediately if you encounter any difficulties.”

I hang up the call and continue to do my homework. Well, I’m trying to, as Snakeling is snoring too loudly next to me. Claps sometimes continue to sound outside the window, and the Gorgon is very uneasy about it.

“Danila, isn’t it time for you to go to the ball?” Antonina Pavlovna enters after knocking.

Oh, right, it’s already six in the evening. While it’s still getting dark quickly, and it’s unclear what time of day it is.

“Thank you for reminding me, Antonina Pavlovna,” I thank her and head to my room.

I put on my custom-made tuxedo and head to pick up Lena. Arriving at the girl’s place, I give her a compliment on her beautiful appearance in a lilac dress, for which I receive a grateful smile. Then we’re off to the Predyakins’.

The ball is being held by Iceman’s. I wasn’t invited at first, but the attack by the red Biguses changed everything. Not only in my relationship with the Predyakins, but with all the nobles of Budovsk. My mailbox is still overflowing with thank-you letters and invitations to visit. This wasn’t limited to the words. A lot of expensive gifts were sent to my home — ancient statuettes, antique vases, paintings by famous artists, — and the bank account was gratuitously replenished by half a million rubles. Who transferred the money? Yes, all the nobles, a little bit. Well, how else could it be? The Akela pack saved the precious children of the local elite. Aristocrats know how to be grateful. So they sent half a million to the wolf-bears’ bones, heh.

But who really surprised me was Predyakin Sr. Stanislav Georgievich personally came to my mansion and invited me to the ball. I think Bogdan was steaming with anger.

At the ball, as always at such events, it’s rather dull. Lena and I try the snacks, dance a little, socialize with the guests. Soon Grisha and Adiya and Sveta with her cousin Vestislav, a humorous guy, join us. Only Camila is nowhere to be seen.

Katya Fitkina approaches our company with Predyakin Bogdan.

“Danila, you’ve come,” Iceman grumbles sullenly.

“Of course,” I smile. “Your father personally invited me. How could I offend him by refusing?’”

Bogdan’s face darkens even further. Katya, on the other hand, laughs, cheerful and joyful, and it can’t go unnoticed that the green lace dress perfectly emphasizes her slender, girlish figure.

“Lena, allow me to steal your date for a dance,” Fitkina asks my companion.

“Of course,” Lena smiles, releasing my elbow.

Katya gives me a questioning look. I nod and offer the girl my hand. Fortunately, they’re playing a calm slow dance, not a wild waltz. Although I took ballroom dancing lessons, I don’t like twisting my legs in a frenzied swirl at all.

“Grandfather sends you his greetings, Danila,” Katya says quietly, leaning slightly towards me.

“Oh, greetings to Philip Pavlovich too,” I smile. “How is he doing on the front lines?”

“Fine, he’s settled in,” the girl replies with a smile. “He says he remembered his hussar youth.”

I spoke with her grandfather, the former head of the Fitkin family, in person the other day. He, like Predyakin Sr., came to my mansion and thanked me for saving his granddaughter. An interesting old man. He, by the way, was not executed for negligence in the end and got off with a five-year exile to an anomaly. But he wasn’t upset either. He was even happy: ‘The sovereign punished me for the cause. Well, okay, I’ll remember my youth, shake my bones.’ Without a shred of regret, he handed over the reins of the family to Katya’s father and skipped off on his long tour to the frontier.

While dancing with Katya, I notice Camila on the sofas by the window. Some guy has latched onto the brunette. He is clearly pressuring the girl. An unhappy expression is frozen on her face.

Amplifying my hearing with the Gift of Physiquemage, I catch the guy’s words:

“I’ve heard about you, you baby with two Gifts.”

“I’m not a baby!” the brunette exclaims indignantly. “Where did you hear that?”

“I drank and played cards with your fiancé Zyablikov at a bar,” the nobleman laughs. “He spilled the beans.”

I understand everything. This nobleman is definitely a visitor from Perm. A local would not allow himself to talk to Enerova like that.

I wait for the melody to end, thankfully not long, take Katya back to Predyakin and say to Grisha:

“Find Eldar, he should be somewhere here. There’s some jerk bothering his sister by the sofas. I’m going there.”

I quickly cross half the hall. Slipping between the sofas, I find myself next to Camila. She doesn’t notice me, listening to the smirking boor:

“Such a gifted bride can be sold to some boyar for a good price. It’s just a pity that your family is weak and won’t be able to hold onto such a lucrative piece.”

“Really?” Camila frowns.

“Yup, my father will buy out your power tool factory, and you’ll be ruined.”

“Nedezhka, we’ve refused you. You won’t buy anything.”

Oh, so this is the Permian Nedezhka family. I’ve heard they are known for shady dealings and corporate takeovers. I just didn’t know that these vultures had already set their sights on the Enerovs’ factory as well. By the way, Camila’s family is far from the first on the list of Budovsk residents they have attacked. The Nadezhkas have drained a lot of blood. They have even already snatched some forestry enterprise from the Filatkins. It is worth teaching these Permians a lesson so that they remember whose Budovsk it is.

Budovsk is the town of Danila Veshchy.

“No, we will,” Nedezhka grins and boldly reaches out to Camila’s face. “Even though you’re sassy, you’re pretty.”

“Take your hands off,” I say loudly.

Camila and the boor turn around.

“Danila!” A relief appears on the brunette’s face.

“Hi,” I nod to the girl. “I thought you might want to dance with me.”

“Of course,” she readily gets up and comes to me.

“Hey, stop!” Nedezhka jumps up. ‘Who are you? You don’t even have a nobleman’s ring! Are you a commoner?”

“You don’t have to shout,” I say, touching my ear for emphasis. “I can hear you just fine without that. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere yet, we haven’t finished with each other. And yes, I’m a commoner. Do you want to exchange opinions with me using magic and blades? On the topic: ‘It’s not good to harass girls and force your attention on them’?”

“Ha-ha, you made me laugh,” Nedezhka predictably waves me off. “I won’t even stand next to a commoner at a social event. Unlike some,” he casts a disdainful look at Camila, who has stood next to me.

Well, I didn’t expect another answer. An aristocrat can easily refuse to fight with a commoner, and his honor will not be offended in the least. But he won’t be able to get away with it. My main trump card will arrive soon.

“What’s going on here?” Eldar approaches us with his unchanging fox-like smirk. My friends follow him. “Oh, Pavel Nedezhka! What a meeting!”

I turn to the heir of the Enerovs.

“This gentleman forced his attention on Camila Albertovna, insulted her in every possible way, and even tried to grab her face,” I blurt out.

“Wow,” Eldar’s eyes widen, and he looks at his sister. “Camila, can you confirm?”

“Yes,” the brunette replies restrainedly, glancing briefly at me.

“Well, Pavel, you’re in trouble!” Eldar is no longer smiling. “I’ll tear you apart for my little sister. Do you accept the challenge?”

Nedezhka clenches his fists and glares furiously at me, then frightenedly at Eldar, then furiously at me again. Gears are slowly turning in his head. I’m still wondering if he’ll understand it himself or if I should help. But, fortunately, the penny drops.

“I would gladly defeat you, Eldar, but it’s too late: this gentleman has already stood up for Camila’s honor.” He makes a nod in my direction.

“You’re no longer bothered that I’m a commoner?” I pretend to be surprised.

“Don’t worry,” Nedezhka smirks again. “There will be no duel between us. It will be a beating to death.”

Apparently, he expects me to turn pale, but sees my joyful grin:

“You’ve said so yourself, Nedezhka,” I say contentedly.

His smirk cracks and disappears. Pavel realizes the whole trick of my phrase. But it’s too late: the nobleman’s word has already been spoken. There’s no turning back.

Chapter 23. Uncovering the Sabotage

We promptly notify the evening’s host of our desire to duel. Stanislav Predyakin listens to our arguments and doesn’t object, only asking for one thing:

“Gentlemen, just no fatalities. I’ve organized this ball in honor of the opening of a new front. Duke Velikopermskiy himself is here. Our entire duchy is fighting the beasts, and it’s not right to shed the blood of allies.”

I agree with the head of the family’s arguments. They are logical, and I see no reason to dispute them. I have no intention of ruining the evening. If the visitors conducted themselves well, there would be no need for a duel. But I will need to show the guests that it is important for them to behave appropriately in my town, otherwise the hooligans will be in serious trouble.

Nedezhka smirks at me:

“So be it, this won’t be a beating to death. Just an instructive lesson.”

“True,” I nod, and my fearlessness once again unnerves the Permian.

The area for the duel is set up right on the dance floor. The territory is fenced off, the guards politely push the guests back, and the crowd excitedly chats. Several classmates come up to wish me luck. Even Bogdan the Iceman decides to offer his support:

“Veshchy, you usually piss me off, of course, but now you’re acting with honor,” he grumbles. “So don’t you dare lose. Show these Permians what happens when they offend our girls.”

I wonder how he knows about the reason. Has Camila already told our classmates?

“Don’t worry, snowman. Today, the Permians will get a clear lesson on how not to behave as guests,” I promise.

But it’s not just about good manners. It’s time to show, by example, that even nobles should better respect the future Veshchy family. It’s better for their own safety. The situation with the emboldened Zyablikovs showed me that I’m being too cautious. Weak vultures aren’t afraid of me at all. Therefore, today I will demonstrate a significant portion of my power and lift the veil a little. The occasion is very suitable. The audience is worthy — the wealthiest and most powerful nobles of the duchy, as well as Duke Velikopermskiy himself with his youngest son.

Grisha volunteers to be my second. The Kazakh looks concerned and alarmed, especially when Nedezhka is brought a longsword with a sparkling long blade. Grisha immediately becomes darker than a thundercloud.

“Grisha, lighten your face,” I joke with my friend.

“How can you?” the Kazakh snarls, betraying his always calm disposition. “Look, they brought him his family sword! Nedezhka is clearly a good fencer!”

“Most likely,” I don’t argue.

“Why are you so calm! Do you even have anything to fight with?”

“Of course,” I pull back the lapel of my tuxedo, showing my short scabbard with the navaja. “Are you offending me?”

However, my weapon doesn’t please him at all.

“You’re out of your mind,” Grisha shakes his head. “You can’t go out with this toothpick. Let me ask my father to lend you the family palash Kalyir?”

“No, thanks,” I pat my friend on the shoulder. “I’m more comfortable with my blade. My hand is used to it. You’re wrong to call my ‘razor’ that. After the battle, you will definitely change your mind.”

Grisha starts to grumble something, but restrains himself. He understands that there’s no point in spoiling my fighting spirit, even if he himself has pessimistic thoughts about my weapon.

Meanwhile, the duelists are finally called to the ‘arena.’ An agitated Camila had already managed to come up to me and whisper words of gratitude and encouragement.

Nedezhka and I stand opposite each other, baring our blades. The Permian looks at my ‘razor’ with a smirk. Why does everyone underestimate the combat skills of telepaths? Well, I’ll eradicate the misconceptions.

The battle begins. The opponent is completely covered in greenish armor. So, he’s an acid mage. Impressive. A rather rare Gift. His sword is very good. The blade, smooth and clean, reflects the light like a mirror. It will come in handy for me, and not just for looking in it. After all, I need to improve my fencing skills.

I also arm myself. A psi-whip appears in my free hand. A purple psionic sword grows over the short blade of the navaja. Now the blade is not inferior in length to Nedezhka’s longsword.

The crowd gasps in surprise.

“Two psi-constructs? He has a decent-sized reservoir…” I hear snippets of a loud exclamation. Someone clearly knows the subject.

Nedezhka refrains from initiating an attack. I manage to scald him with a trial psionic discharge, purely to test his shields. His mental constructs are quite strong, but there is definitely no dynamic defense with automatic counterattack. So, I can safely break them. However, I’m not going to do that. In line with my strategy, our fight should be spectacular, not end secretly in the Permian’s head.

Staggering from my ‘test drive,’ Nedezhka sends a cloud of green gas in my direction with a wave of his hand. My metabolism is already boosted — the second Gift is at full power, giving me a strong immune system. Nedezhka’s rank is low, so he can’t knock down a strong Physiquemage with just a wish. So, I should last for fifteen minutes for sure. By that time, the fight will already be over, and then I’ll get treated with Camila’s help.

I break into a run towards the enemy through the green cloud. A swing of the psi-whip, and the construct wraps around Nedezhka’s neck. With a jerk, I pull him towards me like a feather. As soon as the dumbfounded Permian flies in, I lift him off the floor with one hand and sharply plunge the psi-blade into his solar plexus. His armor cracks. I make another strike, and the Permian’s limp fingers release the sword.

Under the astonished gaze of the spectators, I shatter Nedezhka’s armor with a few more blows, then throw the weakened guy aside like a rag doll. Done.

I turn to the crowd, and the nobles are surprised to discover how much my body has widened. Thick ropes of muscle bulge under my shirt, almost tearing the fabric. Telepath Veshchy turned out to be a Physiquemage too. Now everyone knows it.

Smiling at the bewildered aristocrats, I approach Camila and ask:

“Kha-kha…” I clear my throat. The green filth has taken its toll on my health and is gradually destroying my immunity. But still not as quickly as I initially thought. “Will you heal me?”

“Of course, Danya!” the brunette rushes to heal me. “You don’t even need to ask!”

As she concentrates on imbuing her hands with a white glow to heal me, my friends draw closer, followed by the rest of my classmates. Everyone shares their surprise. Only Lena is calm as a cobra. Apparently, my girlfriend is already tired of being amazed by surprises from me. She just looks at me with a languid gaze and smiles as if it’s all as it should be.

“You could have shared that you have two Gifts,” Sveta grumbles. I look at her skeptically, and the blonde sighs, “Yeah, I’ve said something stupid, sorry. I understand that you couldn’t, but why have you revealed it now?”

“The time has come,” I state the obvious. “The town is now flooded with out-of-town nobles, and there will soon be even more. If I don’t show strength, I’ll have to endure their attacks. I don’t want that. The decree on volunteer detachments has given us immunity from wars with nobles. But not from duels.”

“That’s true,” Grisha agrees.

“Have you taken care of my trophy?” I ask the Kazakh.

“You doubt me?” my second smiles. “I’ve already taken it, wrapped it up, and put it into your car. It’s in the trunk. My father has said that this blade is worth at least three million rubles. So don’t undersell yourself when the Nedezhkas come to you with a ransom.”

“Of course,” I shrug. I would allow the Nedezhkas to get off cheaply. Never in my life.

Suddenly, Lena shields me and Camila from the other friends.

“That’s it, let Danya finish healing. You can talk later.”

Encouraged by my girlfriend, my classmates move away to the snack table, animatedly discussing the duel. Lena did the right thing, good girl. When Camila finishes, I’ll need to go down to the car and set up a field IV drip with glucose and potassium salts. My state is not critical, but it’s better to be prepared for all sorts of troubles. It’s not that I’ve spent a lot of energy, but I need to rebuild some of the antigens damaged by the poison in my body, which necessitates requires trace elements.

“You know, Danya, I’ve suspected for a long time that you must have two Gifts,” the Healer quietly remarks, without looking up from her medical work.

“Where did such interesting guesses come from?” I ask.

“Your psionic waves work wonders,” the girl smiles. “If you develop Gifts for other people, are you not able to make yourself stronger?”

“Reasonable,” I nod.

The brunette removes her glowing hands from my shoulder and reports the completion of the treatment. I thank the girl and head to the parking lot. On the way, I run into Stanislav Predyakin. The host of the evening thanks me for managing without bloodshed and is additionally pleased that the duel brought such an unexpected surprise.

“I hope the law will still be passed, and you will receive nobility,” Stanislav remarks.

The law? Ah, he’s clearly talking about granting personal nobility to unique individuals from the common people with two Gifts. This law has been debated in the corridors of the Zemsky Sobor for about five years, but it hasn’t been passed. Frankly, I'm not holding out hope for it. But if it’s adopted, it will be cool. In general, it’s beneficial for the kingdom to give a coat of arms to unique individuals so that their unique blood doesn’t disappear, and they produce a powerful line of heirs, connecting it with other noble families. But there are plenty of snobbish conservatives among the high aristocracy who are against it.

After thanking Predyakin Sr., I reach the corridor. Here, Stepan catches me in his parade colonel’s uniform.

“Danya! Good that I’ve caught you! Let’s go! Urgently!”

“Go where?” It’s a complete surprise to me that my stepfather is also here. Although, why not? After all, someone has to represent the command at noble evenings. We just haven’t discussed him attending the ball at the Predyakins’.

“To the base,” he answers shortly.

“Okay, but I’ll take my car.”

“As you wish, but don’t dawdle.”

On the way to the royal hunters’ base, I set up a field IV drip for myself, thankfully, all the supplies are with me, and the Maybach cabin is spacious enough. The plasma-replacing agent helps maintain the plasma volume in the blood while I recreate new antibodies.

I arrive at the base following Stepan’s armored vehicle. My stepfather is waiting for me in the parking lot, then together we hurry to his office. Valuyev is already waiting at the door. The towering physiquemage is clad in field attire, all stained with blood, and in his hands, he holds a horn of a red Bigus.

“Report,” my stepfather demands after we all go inside.

“The Biguses kidnapped Probe!” Valuyev waves the horn emotionally. “They dragged him into the ‘hole’!”

“How did they drag him away?” Stepan is dumbfounded. “Okay, Grizzly, breathe and tell everything properly.”

Valuyev tells such news that even my eyes widen in astonishment. As usual, a ‘hole’ opened, and the detachment of royal hunters took care of it. The red-horned Biguses climbed out again. The creatures behaved remarkably coordinated, even organizing themselves into orderly formations. When both sides clashed, it turned out that the goal of the Biguses wasn’t just to tear and gnaw at the hunters, but to take them alive back into the unclosed ‘hole.’ That’s how the beasts grabbed Probe the scanner. Two apes slipped away with the hunter in their paws, the rest were killed. Then the ‘hole’ closed.

Stepan and I are silent, exchanging glances.

“One more thing,” Valuyev takes an electroshock out of his pocket and brings it to the horn. A discharge flashes, and either a rune or an intricate letter appears on the solid surface. “All the Biguses that we killed are marked. We saw it by chance when Thunderer hit the primates with lightning. The inscription only appears from electricity.”

“Damn it!” my stepfather growls, hitting the table with his fist. “Danila, your thoughts?”

“This is an invasion, Stepan,” I say firmly. “The Biguses are puppets controlled by an otherworlder telepath. I don’t know how they did it, but the runes on the horns clearly help to subdue the primates.”

“Doesn’t add up. What about the monkey-rats? What about Akela and his pack? What about the other beasts before that?” Stepan asks. “They didn’t look controlled.”

“They weren’t,” I respond. “They’ve only controlled the Biguses so far. Perhaps the other beasts were sent to us to intimidate and spread chaos. And the Biguses were sent later as a team of catchers, tasked with apprehending the mages.”

“Take the horn and check with Candy,” my stepfather throws out, “what kind of creature is capable of this?”

“I will,” I nod.

“Who is Candy?” Valuyev asks.

“Never mind,” Stepan waves his hand. “We need to warn the volunteer detachments and, in general, toughen the requirements for volunteers. It’s one thing to hunt wild beasts and quite another to fight horn-bearing primates who know how to build formations.”

“I’ve got an idea,” I remark. “It’s very possible the Biguses didn’t stumble upon the school by accident. Apparently, they wanted to take all the gifted children.”

“Why only the gifted? You think the primates only hunt mages?” my stepfather asks.

“Judge for yourself: they made a big detour from South Park and didn’t touch anyone until they stumbled upon the school.”

Stepan frowns, then says:

“Good point. I need to report to command, and you do what is required of you.”

Valuyev torpedoes out of the office. I take the horn and leave as well. It’s also a good idea to check my trophies for the presence of runes.

In fact, even though today’s discovery is not at all cheerful, I am not upset. The main thing is that we haven’t’ missed the threat. Strong enemies make us stronger. If this is an enemy of state scale, and it seems this otherworlder is, the state needs to become stronger as well. Namely: to adopt productive laws, effectively distribute resources, and, as a result, to move promising and talented people up the career ladder.

Am I not promising and talented? Yes, I am!

***

“Serious danger,” General Peter Zadunaysky concludes. “Stepan Timofeyevich, it’s good that you identified it in time.”

“Serving the Kingdom, Your Excellency,” the colonel replies, without getting up from his chair, and in general, listlessly. He’s lost Probe, and that was a loyal, combat comrade, and now he’s in no mood to flatter anyone.

Zadunaysky flew to Budovsk as soon as he received the report about the controlled beasts from ‘holes.’ The threat looked too serious not to examine every detail in person.

Now, Stepan has just reported to the general and is now waiting for orders.

“Imagine, they’re striking us at the very center of the kingdom,” the general sighs, ignoring the colonel’s listlessness. “We will, of course, reinforce the personnel of your garrison, including with mages, but you will not avoid new surprises. You are on the front lines against an unknown enemy. Are you ready to face them?’

Instead of an affirmative answer, Stepan replies:

“It would be easier for me to hold the defense if the command followed my recommendations.”

“What’s this about?” the general frowns.

“I need more telepaths. I have already raised the issue of nobility for Danila Veshchy with you,” Stepan reminds him. “I asked you to assist.”

“Ah, you’re talking about that,” the general rolls his eyes. “Telepaths, good, we will give them. And as for your stepson… I’m sorry, Stepan, but I don’t tolerate nepotism.”

“What does nepotism have to do with it?!” the colonel immediately flares up. “Danila is my main ally in Budovsk. The guy has a guard of smart veterans, my former soldiers and colleagues, and he’s involved them in resisting the ‘holes’ from the very beginning. Without Danila, I wouldn’t have been able to hold our ground! He was the first to create a volunteer detachment. It was his idea, just so you know! He alone saved the local school, otherwise the noble gifted children would already have been dragged into the ‘holes’! Can you imagine how the reputation of the army and the king would have fallen then?!”

“Hm, that would have been unpleasant,” Zadunaysky agrees calmly.

“The guy finally has two Gifts,” Stepan says wearily, losing all his fervor at once. “Let him be a schoolboy, but he does such big things. Only the nobles constantly get in his way, tease him, don’t let him develop, and he has no access to normal resources, and all because he is not noble. I’m fed up with it.”

Zadunaysky raises an eyebrow but doesn’t react to the disregard for subordination. The general understands what a tense situation Stepan is in, so he forgives his outburst and answers strictly on the content of the question:

“Ahem, Veshchy’s merits are, indeed, undeniable. I’ll think about what can be done.”

“I just need a proven ally,” the colonel sighs. “Forgive me, Your Excellency, for the breakdown.”

“That’s alright, it’s all understandable. Go cool your head. As for your stepson, I’ve already answered you everything: I’ll think about it,” the general says. He becomes interested in the talented guy.

Chapter 24. Farm

I return home late at night after training with the Legion. The training has been going on for seven days, and there is nothing surprising about that, as I have been training at my base. I take care of the household so that they can sleep without hearing the rumble from the basement. I am very attentive. Let no one dare say that Danila Veshchy is ‘a bad padishah’ after this, heh.

“Snakeling, what are you doing hanging around here?” I’m surprised, freezing on the porch.

The Gorgon settled on the cornice of the second floor. She sits motionless, only her yellow eyes shine in the dark like a cat’s. I wouldn’t have even noticed the predatrix, but my mind detection is turned on out of habit even at home, so her appearance was not a surprise.

“Waiting for mazaka,” Mother of the Brood yawns. “Pa-a-atrroll…”

“Go to bed, patrolwoman,” I snort. “Leave the patrol to the guards. They get paid for it.”

“Gooood,” Snakeling yawns again. “Since mazaka is at home.”

She ducks behind the wall, where her room is located. I go into the house and go up to my place. I only manage to take off my jacket when there is a quiet knock on the door. Antonina Pavlovna peeks in with my permission, wearing a pink robe.

Damn, why aren’t you all asleep? I specifically drive six miles away so as not to wake you with noise. But you still don’t go to bed, devils.

“Danila, is everything okay?” the teacher worries. “Aren’t you overworked at training? Maybe we won’t prepare for the exam tomorrow?”

Oh, right. We’ve decided to hold a rehearsal for the final exam at home tomorrow. The school is still closed, but we need to prepare.

“In Budovsk, every day is a survival exam,” I wave it off. “Go to sleep. Don’t worry.”

Lingering for a little while in the doorway, Antonina leaves. But not for long: she will soon return to me in erotic dreams. Stupid hormonal storms. By the way, I could easily reduce the secretion of androgens. With the Gift of a physiquemage, it’s a piece of cake. But it’s not worth doing. Androgens have many beneficial functions. They act as natural anabolics: they stimulate protein formation in muscle tissues, increase basal metabolism, and accelerate the formation of erythrocytes in the red bone marrow. It’s better to spend the excess hormones on Candy and Lena and not take these silly thoughts to heart. The reorganization of the body will have very undesirable consequences. For example, a slowdown in brain activity.

After undressing, I flop into bed and go through the results of the work week in my head.

Seven days have passed since the horned Biguses captured Probe. The primates have already become brazen. Every day, the horned beasts make forays and try to drag the gifted people back to their home. In addition, other beasts continue to come out of the ‘holes,’ uncontrolled by anyone.

Candy and I had to postpone our ‘dancing under the moon’ again. Let the royal hunters secure the territories first, and let the town rebuild itself for the new danger, then the Alfar and I will roam the forest.

However, I don’t miss my chance. Energysynthesis is already working in full swing in a new high-rise in the town center. ‘Young Slayers’ extracts exclusive meat, which is sold at fabulous prices. With this money, I am actively buying up real estate and land throughout the town. Well, I don’t forget about the Legion either.

By the way, about the Legion. Just today, during training, Ivan Dubny made a serious breakthrough. Recently, the Collection development program has undergone major changes, because the stone mage decided to make a claim on me a week ago.

“Boss, how long are you going to do everything yourself?” the consciousness of the red-bearded man declared to me. “Why do you only use our abilities, but not entrust us with work?”

“Hm, what’s wrong?” I was truly taken aback by the chief legionnaire’s indignation. He’s not afraid to speak out, that’s what’s amazing! One psionic impulse is enough for me to erase his matrix without a trace. But Ivan is a proud, honest man, and he always says what he thinks, even if he gets hit on the head later. That’s why I respect him, so I let him speak his mind.

“The thing is, we are your legionnaires,” the warrior straightened to his full, enormous height. “So, give us assignments, strain us to the fullest, and save your strength and brain activity for something that only you can do. After all, that’s why you needed our loyalty.”

He spoke truly. Direct use of the Collection’s forces takes a lot of energy. It’s much more economical if I just order the legionnaires and they carry it out themselves. This is how I acted when I ordered the blood mage to drive away the Hornet-Thrower’s poison. But the big question is: how much can the Collection be trusted?

“We are motivated to serve you,” Dubny, seeing my thoughtfulness, tried to finish me off with arguments. “We want to get new bodies, and if we don’t do anything, you won’t reward us.”

“Also true,” I agreed and nodded at a dozen concrete makiwaras. “Here’s the assignment: knock down all the makiwaras. With one blow.”

“With one?” The red-haired warrior raised his eyebrows. “Boss, are you kidding? I’m not stronger than a fifth-rank Warrior right now.”

“You’ve been a fifth rank for several months,” I scolded him. “Are you going to develop or not? My brainwaves even make capable mages out of children, my classmates, and you live in my brains. So why aren’t you still a High Grandmaster, huh?”

“High…what?!” Dubny was amazed. “Well, you went too far, boss!”

“With one blow,” I threw at the makiwaras again.

The redhead began to try. Of course, nothing worked out for him on the first day. And on the second either. And on the third… But today, finally, there was a breakthrough. Well, like he did, I helped a little, otherwise I was already tired of watching the efforts of the bearded man. As usual, Dubny was again trying to create the Stone Rain technique. For some time, I was feeding his strained efforts with additional psionic energy. I did this every time we trained, nothing new here. Then, I sensed a sudden surge in Dubny’s energy reserve. Had he made a breakthrough?

“Strengthen the channels,” I ordered, myself saturating the stone mage’s accumulator with my energy as well.

Dubny did as he was told, and immediately I injected a sharp stream of energy.

“Narrow!” I shouted out loud.

The stone mage obeyed, and the burst of magical energy suddenly transformed into a hail of stones. The heavy granite fragments hit the concrete makiwaras, breaking the slabs. Unfortunately, not all the makiwaras were knocked down, only five out of ten. But already something.

Dubny was the happiest of all. He smiled, shook his clenched fists, even jumped in place from an excess of emotions. Of course, it’s beneficial for the legionnaire to develop. When he serves me and I get him a new body, in theory he will be transferred along with his expanded accumulator and learned techniques. So, the stronger he becomes now, the easier it will be for him later. And with my support, growing in power is certainly easier.

Now I’m lying in bed thinking, maybe I should visit Cnady? I can’t sleep at all. It’s all Antonina Pavlovna’s fault in her pink robe. Why has she come to me? The teacher seems to be asking for my attention. And what kind of attention can there be from a sexually mature guy at night? One and only, of course. But Antonina, of course, didn’t think of anything like that, but just showed care.

Suddenly, the mobile phone on the nightstand wakes up. Duke Morozov himself is calling me. Yuriy Mikhailovich himself was drawn to midnight conversations. It seems Candy is canceled.

“Yes, duke?” I answer with a yawn.

“Danila, are you awake?” the duke asks.

“As you hear,” I reply with irony.

“Well done, young man,” he praises me. “I also always go to bed very late. Night is a great time to work. None of the household is in the way, you can take care of important tasks on the list, as well as abstract ideas…”

I strongly disagree, as sleep is just as essential for a telepath as vitamins and minerals. Of course, thanks to the Gift of a Physiquemage, now I can overcome natural needs, but there is no point in this, only harm.

“Have you found a new Irabis?” I clarify.

“No, they’re still looking for the cat,” the duke waves his hand. “The point is different. I want to talk about the ‘holes’ and our future profits with you.”

For the next ten minutes, Morozov angrily scolds Duke Velikopermskiy for not letting anyone into Budovsk, so only the Permian nobles are grabbing all the profit from the ‘holes.’

“This is the most severe injustice, duke,” I sigh wearily. “But how can I help?”

“Danila, I propose that you be my representative in Budovsk,” Morozov stuns me. “This means that I am ready to buy all the beast meat that you get. I also propose that you represent me in the circle of Permian nobles and negotiate with them about buying meat for me.”

“I’m not a nobleman,” I remind him, in case he forgot.

“Exactly. That’s why you can act as my representative in the Permian Duchy,” the duke says cheerfully. “You are not a vassal of Duke Velikopermskiy and are free to hire yourself to whomever you want. At the same time, you are quite popular among the local elite, and I think many of the aristocrats will listen to your proposal.”

Hm, tempting. True, why not sell all the extra meat into one person? Being a representative of the duke is very honorable. With the duke’s man, the brazen newcomers will definitely have to reckon, even if I am without a coat of arms.

“Duke, we will conclude the agreement temporarily,” I immediately set my conditions. “The sale of my meat at the market price minus fifteen percent. For contracts with the nobles, I am entitled to the same fifteen percent.”

“Deal, Danila”’ Morozov immediately agrees. “You’ve figured it out quickly. Keep it up.”

We still settle some points, after which the duke finally hangs up. Well, time to sleep…

“Purr-purr,” a melodious voice comes from the ajar door. “My melindo has finally arrived.”

“Yeah, a long time ago.”

Nothing is visible in the dark, as Voronov’s Gift is turned off, and I’m not looking anywhere, I just lean back and close my eyes. Soon the slender and gentle body lies down next to me and presses against me. The Alfar’s playful hands are already greedily probing my stomach, going lower and lower…

Erotic dreams with Antonina Pavlovna are canceled today. I haven’t even had to reduce the androgens.

***

In the morning, I don’t get to the exam rehearsal. Lena has even come to my house, we are supposed to sit for three hours in silence and struggle with problems under Antonina Pavlovna’s supervision, but Sergey, the head of my guard, calls:

“Boss, problems. The farm was robbed.”

“My farm?!” I immediately snap. “Who dared to?! We just built and organized it this week!”

“Boss, I can’t say who. The cameras only recorded people in masks. Everything was very well prepared and executed flawlessly. The invaders were armed with first-class weapons. The guards were killed, all the calves were taken. Probably, the noble guard.”

I clench the alien ‘Rubik’s Cube’ in my fist. I’ve just been solving it out of boredom.

“My calves,” I exhale angrily. “My people.”

“I’m waiting for orders,” Sergey asks calmly.

Damn, I feel sorry for the guys. It’s okay with the calves, they were probably taken alive. Returning them is not a problem. But the guys died for nothing.

“In ten… no, in five minutes, I’ll find out what kind of freaks they were,” I decide. “Prepare an assault group of elite fighters. Jelly’s people will be perfect. We will respond as harshly as possible.”

“Understood, executing.”

I hang up and calm down with a strong-willed effort.

This week, Energosynthesis started a project called ‘Farm.’ The thing is, the other day, ‘Young Slayers’ and I found a herd of Rogogors near one of the ‘holes.’ We defeated the adult bulls without much difficulty, thanks to Akela’s pack, but there were also very small calves grazing there. Killing them was somehow… not that I felt sorry, but rather it was pointless. There is almost no meat in the thin bodies, and they themselves are not dangerous yet. So, I thought, why not try to start breeding anomalous beasts. Some Energosynthesis employees have already moved to Budovsk, so I entrusted them with the project. We bought one of the abandoned farms and began to breed calves there. Grisha teased me, labeling me a farmer, but I paid no mind because the endeavor shows promise.

Today my farm was robbed. However, I remembered the matrix of each calf, and also branded all the animals. This is not a simple tattoo on the ear or belly of the beast. This is a psi-brand. The mind of each beast is branded with a flexible ligature of a psi-construct, and with it, I can track it without problems, even if the calf is covered with a mental dome. I don’t know if anyone has thought of this besides me. Surely, yes. The construct is very subtle, and only experienced and strong telepaths can repeat it. And there are not many of those.

Telepathic scanning takes about three minutes, it would be faster, but they clearly tried to protect the calves with some kind of diversion. The bitches knew they stole livestock from the telepath. However, their efforts were in vain; the psi-brand completely exposed them. I call Sergey and describe the fenced base in the southwest, where the calves were taken. It takes the commander of the guard some time to find out whose property it is. Meanwhile, I chat with Lena and Antonina Pavlovna. Since the exam was canceled, they decided to chat about everyday life: movies, music, the social life of media personalities. I also occupy myself with small talk.

“By the way, Smith has finally released new perfumes,” Antonina Pavlovna suddenly says. “In my opinion, it’s fabulous.”

“Yes, I went to the store and tried the tester,” Lena nods, not surprised. “Very reminiscent of the set Danya gave me, but in my opinion, the store’s fragrance is still weaker.”

“The set Danya gave you?” the teacher is surprised.

“Yes, in the fall, he brought a gift from Barcelona,” my girlfriend waves it off. “There Danya saved Barbara Smith from anomalous beasts, and the Englishwoman thanked him with a collection of perfumes.”

“Oh, I see,” Antonina looks at me strangely. “She thanked him?”

Hm, a very unusual look. Of course, Antonina is a smart woman, and, perhaps, really realized that the Englishwoman and I had an affair.

I wonder how Barbara is really doing? I ponder the fate of the beautiful Lady Smith. But not for long as soon Sergey calls me.

“The building belongs to Nedezhka, boss. This is the base of their volunteer detachment ‘Noble Killers.’ Personnel fifty people, of which thirty are stormtroopers, the rest are support.”

I chuckle. Nedezhka, then. Well, you rat, you scoundrel. He didn’t calm down after the ball. He decided to make trouble. Not to strike directly, like an aristocrat and a man, but on the sly, in the most remote piece of my property.

At the beginning of the week, the degenerate came to me to redeem his sword. I called all the ‘Young Slayers,’ including Camila. I sold the sword for only four million: its price is somewhere around three, well, I added a third for Nedezhka’s vile behavior at the ball. Consider it, I dealt fairly. After all, the Permian never apologized to Camila.

Before giving away the blade, I gave him an explanatory speech in addition.

“I hope you learned your lesson?” Holding his family sword, I said and nodded to the brunette. “Camila Albertovna is under the protection of the ‘Young Slayers’ and me personally. From now on, keep this in mind. Always.”

The rest of the ‘Slayers’ nodded in sync, and Camila blushed slightly, although the lady’s facial expression did not waver.

Nedezhka gnashed his teeth, but remained silent. He nodded to the case containing the money and asked for his sword. Ah, I should have plunged it in his ass. The Permian will regret it anyway. He decided to hide my calves at the base of the volunteer detachment, didn’t he? Well, now he will lose both his base and detachment. I won't forgive the murder of my people.

***

That night, Pavel Nedezhka throws a wild party. He orders prostitutes to his rented apartment, invites a crowd of people whom he drunkenly calls friends. In short, he is spending his advance millions before he even earns them.

“Sure, I gave that pleb four grand!” the Permian laughs, hugging two girls in short skirts who cling to him. “But I took away a fortune from him! Rogogor meat will make any old man horny, haha! That yard dog will never catch me! He won’t track his calves!”

The guests don’t understand the drunken nobleman, but still rejoice with him, laugh, drink, and grope the girls. The party is in full swing, alcohol flows like a river, and by dawn, the tired Nedezhka collapses into bed, hugging two girls. He is awakened by a mobile phone call:

“Yes,” Pavel croaks with a parched mouth, holding the phone to his face.

“Sir,” the alarmed voice of his servant informs him, “You should know that the ‘Noble Killers’ detachment was completely destroyed tonight, and Danila Veshchy carried out a hostile takeover of their base. Successful, unfortunately. We lost the base with all the weapons and transport.”

“Wha-a-a-a-a-t?!”

Chapter 25. Daredevil

“I demand Veshchy be punished, Duke!” Nedezhka rants before Duke Velikopermskiy. “This is a hostile takeover! This is a violation of the king’s decree! This is a stab in the back! The commoner shows no respect for class distinctions! My people were killed like cattle! Hanging him is not enough! He deserves to be publicly executed by being quartered!”

The Permian shouts loudly, sometimes shrilly, with an expression of righteous anger on his face. He constantly pokes me with his finger. I even think in admiration: a real artist is being wasted! Stanislavsky would have wept with delight.

In addition to the duke, me, and the screaming Nedezhka, Stepan is also sitting in the office. My stepfather looks at the nobleman making claims with boredom. His eyes seem to say: have you called me for this? Hordes of beasts are pouring out of ‘holes’ every hour, and I’m stuck here with you because of stupid nonsense.

I’m not bored. I am fully enjoying the theatrical scene of the Permian. He plays well! Bravo!

It’s not for nothing that Nedezhka is trying so hard. Three guardsmen are standing frozen at the doors of the office. They exude such strong emanations of energy that there is no doubt — they’re Masters. The elite of the duke’s corps. These monsters will soon become the escorts of one of us. Me or Nedezhka.

The duke does not interrupt Nedezhka. On the contrary, frowning with thick eyebrows, he listens to him attentively. When the Permian finally runs out of steam, Duke Velikopermskiy turns a stern gaze on me:

“Danila, do you have anything to answer?”

“I really did clear out the base of the ‘Noble Killers,”’ I shrug. “But that’s exactly how it’s done among the nobles: two eyes for an eye, duke, and all teeth for a tooth. I’m just taking an example from the best of people. The Nedezhka family attacked my farm, the property is registered in my name, which means Nedezhka could have no doubts about who the owner was. My four guards were killed, and the anomalous beasts were stolen — seven young Rogogors to be precise. I found them at the base of the ‘Killers.’ I only returned my property, and the guards of the Nedezhka family interfered.”

“Nonsense!” Nedezhka declares. “Commoner, where is the proof that these are your beasts?!”

It’s even offensive. He doesn’t believe me, the one who arranged it all.

It’s funny that he plays dumb until the very end. Although it is understandable: the punishment for violating the decree will be severe. I don’t think the duke will hang Nedezhka, but he will definitely exile him somewhere far away.

“How about the memories of your people?” I ask. “I took excerpts from their memory where they break into my farm and steal the Rogogors. In addition, each beast has my psi-brand. The age of the mark is at least a week, this can also be verified.”

Nedezhka suddenly becomes lost. Until that moment, he still hoped that it would work out, that his loud accusation would look impressive against the background of my unsubstantiated answer. But no, I have long prepared a body of evidence.

“Duke, don’t believe this commoner!” Of course, Nedezhka can only rely on my origin. There is nothing else.

My stroll last night was a success. I had a great workout, although I didn’t get enough sleep again. We seized the base of the ‘Noble Killers’ without losses, and without battles, in essence. In addition to the guards, I took Snakeling and several bags of explosives with me. But first, I myself ran around the perimeter of the object. Under the Veil of Darkness and the mental dome of the Basilisk, it was not difficult to clear the area of ​​patrols and not get caught on cameras. Then came Snakeling’s turn. I secretly led the predatrix to the base. The Gorgon’s task was not easy — to dive through the walls into the barracks and officers’ rooms, throw bags with explosives and quickly dart back. She coped perfectly. We were noticed only towards the end of Operation ‘Secret Santa’. The alarm sirens roared, but the ‘gifts’ had already detonated. As the explosions echoed, the core of the ‘Killers’ perished instantly, and those fortunate enough to survive the shockwave were finished off by the guard.

Then I looked at the personal files of the squad. There was no healer among the enemy soldiers. His room was empty today. Perhaps he took a day off or something else, and so, maybe I would have been lucky and I would have acquired a very useful consciousness. Damn, it’s a pity, of course. But still, I was not upset, but walked around the hangar and rubbed my hands quite contentedly. The trophies really pleased me. Fifteen new armored vehicles Lynxes with heavy machine guns, a decent arsenal of small arms, and a warehouse full of disassembled turrets that have not yet been installed: Nedezhka’s base was recently bought and occupied. In general, along with the real estate, it makes for a good catch. I can make another stronghold.

“He doesn’t even have anything to answer!” Nedezhka’s furious voice reaches me.

Oh, I got distracted. What is he babbling about again? It seems that all the evidence has been provided on my part, so why the heck is he still acting like an offended party?

Fortunately, the need to answer is relieved by Duke Velikopermskiy’s menacing roar:

“Nedezhka! Shut up already! Don’t shame your family!” Wow, the duke has really boiled over. Indeed, he’s patiently endured the Permian’s evasions for a long time, gave him the opportunity to maintain his dignity, but he, even when faced with the facts, continued to wriggle. “These are not fakes! My telepaths have already taken your guards’ memories from Danila! They are genuine! Hence, you are accountable! Do you have anything to say in defense?”

“I…I…” Nedezhka stutters, for the first time in the entire conversation not finding the words.

“In short, you are going to the Siberian Anomaly for five years,” the duke sums up. “You’re a disgrace to the family. Until you regain your honor, you have nothing to do in the Permian Duchy. Let your father send another son here. Stepan Timofeyevich, does the royal hunters have any objections regarding the culprit and his punishment?”

“No, five years at the anomaly will completely satisfy my department,” my stepfather agrees. “A bad example is contagious. You need to punish harshly for failure to comply with orders.”

“Take him away,” Duke Velikopermskiy nods to the Masters. They grab and escort the exposed guy out.

“Well, Danila, you can keep Nedezhka’s base for yourself,” the duke decides when the door slams shut behind the guards. “Consider it compensation for damages.”

“Thank you,” I nod.

“What about the cube?” Duke Velikopermskiy moves on to the question that interests him. “Have you solved it? Two weeks are coming to an end.”

“Not yet, duke,” I answer calmly. “I need more time.”

The duke looks intently into my eyes. I do not look away, and he, after thinking for a second, decides:

“You have another week.”

In fact, if I put aside all other matters, I could have managed it within the original deadline, but the reason for my delay is not related to time. The ‘Rubik’s Cube’ turned out to be very complex. I have some unsavory suspicions about it, especially considering the Bigus invasion. Hence, I must delve into the artifact more diligently, lest I inadvertently unleash a can of worms.

***

“Your Excellency, may I ask if there is any news regarding my question?” Stepan asks, calling Zadunaisky.

Yesterday, the general returned to Moscow. Having inspected the new internal front in Budovsk, he was generally satisfied and made only a few corrective remarks. There was nothing more for him to do here for the time being.

“Ah, Stepan Timofeyevich, is that you again asking about your stepson?” the general clarifies with a laughing voice.

“About him, Your Excellency,” the colonel replies in a stern tone. “I have already noted the importance of this issue for the successful completion of my tasks, and that is why I am asking.”

“Well, in general, it is possible, but it will take time,” Zadunaisky sighs. “The decree on nobility must be signed by the sovereign himself, and the Royal Chancellery is very scrupulous in checking the evidentiary base. And this base still needs to be collected….”

“Aren’t Danila’s existing merits enough?”

“In principle, yes. But a report in which your stepson cleared at least a red-leveled threat would add even more arguments.”

Stepan recalls the wooden Troot defeated by Danya and sighs in disappointment. That beast has already been attributed to the Sokolovs, and it is too late to change anything.

“Your Excellency, is it not possible without this?”

“It’s possible, but it takes time, Stepan Timofeyevich. You see, there is a direct dependence. The more high-level beasts Veshchy has defeated on his account, the faster he will receive a coat of arms.”

“I understand, we will work,” Stepan decides.

“I like your attitude,” the general laughs. “I feel like I will soon have a thick folder with your stepson’s victories on my table. Well, good luck!”

Stepan hangs up the phone, and thinks to himself:

“That damn Zadunaisky! Only wants to pass the buck! In this way, Danya will not receive a coat of arms until he is gray-haired. We urgently need him to extinguish a ‘red’ one, but where can we locate it? Okay, I will inform my subordinates to report directly to me about the most dangerous ‘holes,’ then I will select something for the ‘Young Slayers’.”

***

“Boss, how long will you keep doing everything yourselves?” Sergey Sivykh grumbles. “Okay, beasts, but you’re taking down nobles too. What’s the guard for, then?”

Damn, that is unexpected. Lena and I are sitting at the base, meditating in the training room and trying out different tricks: I’m with psi-waves, and she’s playing with throwing knives. She melts them and turns them into liquid metal, then assembles them into some kind of fused candelabra with a bunch of blades.

Sergey walks past, and suddenly it’s like he bursts, like a drainpipe. The man seems to have been holding it in for a long time. Lena and I are sitting on the tatami, our legs crossed, and we are surprised to hear it.

“Ahem,” I am a little lost at the guard commander’s complaint. “Well, your guys are a very useful support, and you will always back us up if anything.”

“But we are not girls with pom-poms who support athletes with cheers and dances,” Sergey whines. “We are your firepower, boss. And you yourself are a future nobleman. Where is it seen that the commander-in-chief goes with a saber drawn? He should sit in warmth and comfort so that his mind functions optimally.”

I am directly hit with déjà vu after these words. Ivan Dubny also recently ‘whined,’ asking for more work.

Lena and I exchange glances. The girl watches us with interest and waits for what I will answer. Shere Khan approaches with a soft step and demands attention, imperatively whipping the floor with his striped tail. First of all, I have to scratch the Shafras-Talker behind his ear. Sergey waits patiently.

“Apparently, Sergey, you have never served under nobles,” I remark after a pause.

“Never served under nobles,” Shere Khan echoes, lying down on the floor.

“Where would I?” the commander shrugs. “You know, my whole life has been spent in the army.”

“Yeah,” I confirm my assumption. “I’ve read and learned from friends how the order is arranged in the guards. In the army, everything is still a little… no, not a little, even significantly different. You have an order. You are given an order and execute it. Yet, a noble won’t directly benefit personally from this. That is, of course, one can also give an order to subordinates and let them execute it. But from this, a nobleman will not receive profit personally for themselves. The battle is the best way to temper channels, expand the accumulator, and in general become stronger. You have a general sitting in the rear because their only goal is to fulfill the order, but not to grow themselves in strength. And nobles also need to not forget about themselves, otherwise the family will lag behind in personal power, and other aristocrats will definitely bend it over. That is why many nobles personally participate in the hunt for beasts.”

Sergey listens attentively, and then sighs, scratching the back of his head.

“Well, yes, I understand, boss. I understand why you always climb into the heat, but such risky operations, like penetrating into the enemy’s camp and storming someone else’s base, can you leave them to us?”

“Yes, I can.” Noticing the inconsistency of what was said with reality, I add, “Usually. But with Nedezhka, it was just easier to knock out the patrols myself and use Snakeling. And the guard also worked gloriously. It was you who defeated the remaining opponents after the explosion.”

“Defeated ten survivors, yeah,” Sergey rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “Okay, I understand that I haven’t achieved anything boss, but I’m not leaving it at that, just so you know, so I’ll continue to whine to you constantly so that you don’t risk your head,” he threatened finally before leaving.

I only chuckle after him. Does he really threaten me? Well, I don’t mind him whining if he wants.

Suddenly I realize that Sergey is partly right. Not in terms of me, of course. But I also risk my friends. It’s okay if it were only Grisha, Camila and Sveta — they are nobles and are happy to climb on the rampage themselves. But Lena is not of noble blood, and she has no need at all to reach the upper ranks.

“Listen, Lena, am I not putting too much pressure on you?” I turn to the girl.

“Danya, what are you talking about?” she looks at me in surprise.

“About hunting, first of all. You know yourself, our service is becoming more dangerous every day,” I reply. “It is unclear what beasts will climb out of these ‘holes’. It’s not too late to give up your place in the ‘Slayers’.”

“Danya, what are you saying!” Lena laughs. A thin stream of liquid metal slips out of the sleeve of her jacket, swiftly shaping into a throwing knife and solidifying. “Look!” she raises her hand and a sharp projectile strikes the door jamb. “Before, I was afraid of street thugs, but now I’m not even afraid of the beasts from the anomalous ‘holes’.” The girl declares, proudly putting her hands on her hips. “I feel strong next to you, Danya. I will not give it up!”

I glance at the knife stuck in the jamb.

“Lena, that’s wonderful, of course, but why have you had to spoil the door?”

“Oh,” the girl immediately becomes frightened. “I did not want! Danya, sorry! Maybe the crack is small?!”

She jumps up and wants to run to the door, but I abruptly grab her across the hips and gently flip her onto the mats. The girl laughs as she falls.

“Danya, what are you doing?!” Lena exclaims.

I loom over her and smile, running my hand across the girl’s breasts. She doesn’t get lost and seductively arches. She has already learned something from Candy. Very good.

“What?” I snort mockingly. “Damaged the door? So, you will work it off.”

“Oh! I’m ready!” she wraps her arms around my neck and reaches her lips to my face.

This is how meditation turns into compensation for material damage. Thanks to Sergey. Maybe, he should complain to me more often, as he has threatened.

An hour with Lena passes cheerfully and pleasantly, then we go separate ways. Lena goes home to help her mother with everyday chores, while I proceed to fulfill my duties as the duke’s representative. Perhaps it was pointless to take on this additional responsibility, but, on the other hand, there is a reason to communicate with the Budovsk aristocracy one-on-one. This gives prospects for cooperation and the creation of an alliance against those visiting nobles who become arrogant and begin to be rude, like Nedezhka.

Today I am going to the Fitkins. Contact has already been established with them, so it is possible to deepen ties.

The new head of the Yemelyan Fitkin family receives me in his office.

“Danila, so Morozov himself chose you as a representative?” the head is amazed. “Not a bad jump, young man. Very good, indeed. As for the meat, why not? We also created a volunteer detachment and our freezers are quickly overflowing. It would be nice to empty them immediately in order to prepare a place for fresh meat.”

“That’s what I’m talking about,” I nod. “Wholesale purchase saves time, even if a unit of goods costs thirty percent less.”

“Well, let our managers discuss the prices based on the specific nomenclature of the goods,” Yemelyan smiles, and I don’t argue, because that’s how it is done in the business world: nobles establish cooperation among themselves, and then hired management works. “How are you doing, Danila? I heard you fended off Nedezhka from Perm, so much so that they were dispatched to the anomaly.”

“To hell with this Nedezhka,” I reply seriously. “I solved the problem with him, but it’s no secret that the decree will soon be supplemented, and nobles from other duchies will flock to Budovsk. Therefore, we, the Budovsk nobles – established and future — need strong cohesion. Visitors will test us for strength. I guarantee it, and you know it yourself. Simply because that is human nature.”

“Are you offering an alliance?” Yemelyan guesses.

“Correctly,” I nod. “But not only with me. Let’s assemble a coalition according to the rule: touch one, everyone answers.”

“I like it,” the head immediately smiles, stroking his beard. “You have already shown that you know how to respond as harshly as possible, Danila. So why not?”

I shake the extended hand of the head. I think that a much bigger role in his decision was played by the fact that I am now a representative of Morozov, but what’s the difference? The first ally is there, I must also definitely visit the Sokolovs and Enerovs, and send my newly minted allies to the rest. It's not feasible for me to visit each person individually. We will anticipate new arrivals from all corners of the kingdom and greet them collectively.

Chapter 26. Take Your Positions!

The night is warm and clear. The forest sleeps, no beasts are visible, only Akela’s pack keeps watch, pacing around a small clearing, noses to the wind. The Hounds are not my only precaution. In the distance, patrols of my guards walk behind the trees. Stepan also set up barriers not far away, protecting the territories with frequent ‘holes.’ Have I played it safe? I don’t think so. Nowadays, the expanses around Budovsk are full of dangers, and extra security won’t hurt.

I stand leaning against a tree trunk, and observe Candy from a distance. Dancing in the moonlight and singing melodious songs, the Alfar weaves some extraordinary magic. I am not shirking, but feeding her with psi-waves. The result of her witchcraft is stunning. It feels like a mighty stream of power is stretching out of the forest.

“Freaking awesome, boss!” exclaims the ‘switched on’ consciousness of the scanner. “I’ve never seen anything like it! She sucks energy right out of the forest! Out of the damn trees, boss! Out of the bushes! Out of the weeds!”

I ignore his chatter, continuing to stimulate the Alfar’s brain activity. Let him talk. He cannot interfere with Candy: no one else is allowed to see the consciousnesses absorbed by me.

“Some kind of druid!” the scanner continues to admire. “The forest seems to breathe an energy cloud onto this clearing!”

He says this more for himself. I have long connected to his Gift and also see streams of energy flowing out of the thick of the forest. It is unlikely that it can be used for attacks or anything material at all. However, they appear quite suitable for alchemical endeavors. Candy saturates a flask with a green potion that she put in the center of a pentagram drawn on the ground with ‘forces of nature’.

“I’ve done!” the Alfar says unexpectedly, suddenly squatting down directly on the ground. The blonde raises her eyes, burning with witchcraft light, to me. “My melindo, the potion is ready!”

Her slender hand extends the darkened flask to me. I take off my jacket and throw the clothes over the Alfar’s fragile shoulders. She has danced in just a semi-transparent negligee: that’s Candy’s uniform for alchemical dances.

I help the girl to get up, and she immediately presses her whole body against me. I take the flask from her fingers and peer into the liquid shimmering behind the glass.

“Is this a cure for magotropy?”

“Not only that, melindo,” the Alfar presses closer to me and runs her nose along my neck, as if gathering warmth. “This is a ‘joiner’. It can not only link Maria Fyodorovna to the magical essence and heal her from magotropy but also enhance any mage’s connection to the world, significantly amplifying their Gift. Unfortunately, I can only create such spells once every ten years,” Candy sighs. “Sorry, Danya.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” I put the precious flask in my pants pocket. “Women are not at all obliged to make a man stronger, he must do it himself.”

“You’re doing pretty well,” the Alfar feels my bicep with a smirk.

That’s Candy — she quickly changes sadness to playfulness. Probably, if I live for three hundred years, I will rather turn into a terrible cynic than into such a naive child.

When we return home, everyone is already waiting for us in the living room. Except that Maria Fyodorovna is already asleep, it’s late. Even my mother and Stepan have come to cheer up Antonina Pavlovna. Snakeling is sitting in the corner and calmly sharpening her copper claws with a metal file.

“Danya?” my mother asks me when Candy and I enter the room. Antonina Pavlovna does not dare to say anything, silent tears of hope are frozen in the eyes of my beloved teacher. “Has the medicine worked out?”

With a serious expression, I keep a theatrical pause, then break into a smile:

“Of course, it’s worked out! Candy is our best herbalist.”

“Without your psi-waves, it would have been much more difficult, melindo,” the pointy-eared blonde returns the compliment.

Mom immediately smiles, Snakeling purrs contentedly. Antonina Pavlovna bursts into tears of happiness, and Candy, looking at her, twists her finger at her temple: why this incomprehensible woman is crying again, if the potion has worked out!

“Hooray!” Stepan opens a bottle of champagne with a bang. It was not in his hand a second ago. Where did it materialize from? Was he hiding it under the chair?

We quickly set up a small celebration. We drink a little, rejoice a lot, and also wish Antonina Pavlovna a lot of health for her daughter. Candy raises a toast and assures that Maria Fyodorovna will be completely cured the day after she drinks the medicine. We drink to this. Then the Alfar takes the teacher aside and whispers something to her, and all this time Antonina keeps looking at me, and at the end of the whispers her eyes generally widen, like an owl’s.

Soon my mother and Stepan leave, and I go up to my office to finish reading the Energosynthesis reports. In fact, Kira worked very well in Moscow. The main thing is that she found certified scientists-pharmacists who were interested in working on anomalous potions. Candy’s first recipe has already gone into production. Soon we will begin to sell a medicine for cow death in pharmacies. I decide to hold on to the remaining recipes for now, as we will attract the attention of drug tycoon competitors without them.

“Danya, are you very busy?” Antonina Pavlovna appears in the doorway. The teacher’s face is a little flushed from the champagne, the top buttons of her blouse are unbuttoned. The woman is clearly hot.

“Do you want something?” I get up from the table and stretch, because I’ve been sitting for too long.

“Candy told me exactly what kind of magic medicine she created with you,” the teacher comes closer and looks questioningly. “Danya, do you truly intend to give this invaluable potion to Masha? After all, it can make you much stronger, and Masha and I… we are insignificant to you.”

“You are my favorite teacher,” I answer calmly, taking the woman by the hand. “And you shouldn’t suffer.”

She is silent for a few seconds.

“Thank you,” Antonina blinks away tears and hugs me, holding me tightly. “Thank you, Danya, for everything…”

I respond to the hug.

“It’s nothing, Antonina Pavlovna. Always feel free to reach out.”

Unexpectedly, her lips brush against my neck. Startled by her own action, the woman pulls back. But I don’t let her go — silently I continue to hold and stroke her back. Antonina, after hesitating, obediently lowers her head to my shoulder and sighs lengthily, with relief, as if only now a heavy burden has been removed from her feminine shoulders.

“Oh!” Candy appears in the open doorway and, seeing us hugging, smiles mischievously. “Are you having ‘kuldagebra’ again? I want to learn too!”

“Not today,” I say, without letting go of Antonina Pavlovna, I lean forward and push the door.

“Oh well…” the Alfar’s grumbling voice sounds from behind the slammed door.

The teacher and I stay in the closed office, embracing for a little while longer.

In the morning, the first thing I do is work on the ‘Rubik’s Cube.’ Finally, I almost finish it. The required combination is very simple, but I’m in no hurry to solve the puzzle completely. I’ve noticed: as soon as I connect most of the correct psi-connections, the artifact inside the iron thing pre-activates. A powerful accumulation of energy is formed. So powerful that I become uneasy. It even gives me goosebumps…brrr… Exactly Pandora’s box. I can’t open this without checking. It is also impossible to return the thing back to Duke Velikopermskiy. I’ve deliberated on this, but a telepath lacking the scanner’s Gift wouldn’t suspect a thing, would solve the puzzle calmly, only to be engulfed in the ensuing energy burst. Or perhaps something even worse might occur, who can say for sure.

I put the cube in the safe and go down to Candy in the summer house. Since dawn, the Alfar has been working like a bee, running around the laboratory in a white coat. Only here’s the nuance: she has nothing under her coat. Absolutely nothing. Hmm, it’s good that the Alfar’s assistants are all women.

Deciding that I’ll give her a lecture on the topic of the dress code sometime later, I clarify:

“You said you had something for me?”

“Yes, sit down, melindo!”

As soon as I flop into the chair, the Alfar immediately fusses over me: she rolls up the sleeve of my house shirt and sticks on a flesh-colored patch.

“Nicotine?” I clarify. “I don’t smoke anyway.”

The Alfar laughs.

“This is an elixir with special ingredients — energy boosters and concentrated protein fuel, melindo,” Candy explains, rubbing the patch with her fingers to press it more tightly against the skin. “They are too harsh and harmful for the stomach. It is better to absorb them through the epidermis and blood.”

Hmm, this can be arranged. I immediately ‘turn on’ the blood mage’s skill, and in accelerated mode I absorb all the useful filling in the patch. I instantly feel a powerful surge of strength and saturation. This is even without Antonina Pavlovna’s pancakes!

“Awesome! You’re amazing!” I quickly grab Candy and kiss her, but then immediately let go. The Alfar, of course, doesn’t mind, but it’s better to spend the acquired energy on experiments with the Legion. The only issue: it might take ages before I reach the limit of my power. I don’t have so long time — today after lunch there is a school assembly in honor of the resumption of studies after the mourning.

“Can’t you try one of the most energy-intensive techniques?” the Alfar reasonably asks.

She has a point. The solution comes to me by itself. I have the gift from Baroness Gornorudova — the golden chain. This artifact requires a lot of power to transmit a telepathic signal.

Fetching the chain from the safe, I return to the laboratory. For a while, I think about what and to whom to transmit.

“Never mind,” I decide and look around the office. “I’ll transmit an image of this table.”

“Melindo, how about me instead?” the blonde smiles, arching gracefully. “Why would anyone want a stupid table, but I’m beautiful, right?”

“Yeah, okay, let’s go,” I agree, looking at the slender Candy in her white coat.

I swiftly transform the Alfar’s image into a telepathic signal, focusing solely on her body from the knees to the shoulders, deliberately blurring the image for obscurity. Next, using the baroness’ artifact, I broadcast the signal as far as possible, to the kingdom’s outer reaches…. Success! A wave of terrible fatigue washes over me, but the patch did its job. If I use another one, I’ll get an immediate surge of power. I can repeat this process indefinitely.

“I wonder if the recipient liked my photo?” meanwhile Candy wonders.

***

Okhotsk, Far East

A man in a business suit throws his leather briefcase aside and climbs onto the roof's parapet. He looks down despairingly at the stream of passers-by and the buzzing traffic.

“I’m so tired of all this!” the man cries, tearing the tie from his neck and tossing it into the void. “God, tell me, what am I living for?! My job is crap, the kids are ungrateful freeloaders, the mortgage is crushing me. I’m only thirty, and I’m already gray! Why shouldn’t I jump?! Heavens, answer me! Why?!” He looks demandingly at the overcast sky.

Then, enlightenment descends. A vision of a stunning female figure in a white coat appears, seemingly from nowhere, and almost blinds him. The nurse’s silhouette is blurred, but her amazing curves are unforgettable.

The man swallows hard.

“I get it,” he nods, suddenly clear. “For women.”

With that, he carefully climbs back down from the roof, picks up his briefcase, and heads to work.

***

Everyone dressed their best for the school’s end-of-year assembly, especially the girls. Especially Sveta. Sokolova with two big white bows on her head looks like she’s cosplaying a happy third-grader. All the guys are ogling her white knee socks. And I involuntarily recall that fun time when I forced Sokolova to extinguish fireballs in the men’s restroom. She was wearing the same bows back then. Ah, childhood, gone too soon.

Camila, of course, is not inferior to the blonde, even though she dressed more maturely: hair gathered in a braid, a black tie, a long skirt. All the ‘Young Slayers’ stand together at the assembly: the girls on the left, Grisha and I on the right.

On the platform under the scorching sun, the headmaster is now speaking. He says that we must move on and fervently assures that the school has been made safe and is now almost an impregnable fortress.

By ‘made safe’ he apparently means Akela’s pack, which proudly settled under the platform. Now the Hounds are held in high esteem by the teachers. They are even allocated a separate aviary on the school grounds. True, the headmaster himself is still not thrilled with the animals — he has already turned pale about twenty times, and his voice is trembling. I don’t know what he’s worried about. Maybe some kind of phobia. The harsh wolf-bears have even been fondled by the kids, so the Hounds now rise up as crumpled and ruffled black mountains, but not defeated, which is important.

Following the headmaster, the head teacher speaks. She talks about the new study schedule. I don’t pay attention, thinking about my own things: about the Collection, about Energosynthesis, about waffles with caramel in the café next door…

“…Now let’s finally give the floor to our hero! Danila Veshchy, please come to the stage!” the head teacher announces suddenly, and the entire school erupts in applause.

“Go, batyr,” Grisha nudges me in the shoulder. “They are showing you honor, indeed.”

Damn it, couldn’t they warn me in advance? I don’t even have a prepared speech. But there’s nothing to be done: I go up to the platform and approach the microphone.

“Well, um…” I look at the hushed crowd of students. “Study hard and become stronger, so that in the future, no apes will be able to scare you. In the meantime, Akela and the pack will not let anyone be offended.”

They applaud me again. Apparently, they like the speech. The impromptu speech rocks, ha.

Suddenly, the applause is drowned out by the loud wail of the alarm sirens that the royal hunters have hung all over the town:

ATTENTION! COMBAT ALERT! INVASION IN PROGRESS! CIVILIANS, REMAIN IN YOUR HOMES AND SHELTERS! VOLUNTEER SQUADS — REPORT TO YOUR ASSIGNED POSITIONS! CHECK YOUR PHONES FOR YOUR ASSIGNED ‘HOLES’! BEGIN SWEEPING OPERATIONS IMMEDIATELY! DANYA… AHEM, DANILA VESHCHY, REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO THE SOUTH-EAST SECTOR, POINT ‘G’! ATTENTION! COMBAT…”

The barrel organ spins anew. Apparently, my stepfather was in a great hurry, since in the note to the announcer he referred to me as ‘Danya.’

The assembly disperses abruptly. Under the wail of sirens, the people scatter to their homes. Everyone except the ‘Young Slayers.’ Grisha and the girls remain standing strictly on the white line on the asphalt. They are waiting for me. As I step down, I take out my phone on the way and call an expanded support group and assault squads to point ‘G.’ The invasion is serious. This is an emergency. We will need all the forces we have.

Since Stepan did not send me to the ‘holes,’ like the other volunteer units, my stepfather must have different plans for the ‘Slayers.’ Perhaps some kind of special task. I don’t mind, but they’d better deliver my coat of arms afterward. Otherwise, they’ll regret it.

To be continued…

Don’t miss the next book

PRE-ORDER the 6nd  book right now!

They say that telepaths are cruel.

They say that telepaths devalue other people's will and distort minds.

They say that telepaths are manipulators and gaslighters.

You know, that's not true! We have kind hearts and we are not gaslighters at all!

By the way... What if you convinced that bandit that he is a ballerina—would he be able to dance a fouetté?

From the author

Hello dear reader!

I am glad that you are reading these lines. It means that you like my story! This is wonderful. It's a real pleasure to share my thoughts, ideas and fantasy worlds with you. That's why I write my books.

There must have been some mistakes in the text, which a native speaker will certainly notice, but in my defence, the translation of a book, like the original, is never perfect. I apologise for any inconvenience this may have caused you, and please do not judge the book harshly. The story is still good enough, if you are reading this part)))

I am very happy to live in our days and to have the opportunity to translate and to share my story with the whole world!

I am grateful to you, dear reader, for taking an interest in my book.

And now for the big news! This is only the first book in a long series, and very soon you will have the opportunity to continue reading the story of the main character's adventures.

The next book will be released very soon.

If you do not want to miss the release of the book and want to be the first, follow the link and pre-order!

I'd be very grateful if you'd give my book stars. Your opinion is invaluable to me! Especially on this site where I am a new author. Thanks bro! You're a true friend!

LEAVE A COMMENT