Solo Strategy

Seeing a normal hill for the first time in over ten days—albeit a gentle one, but still rising a good twenty meters above the surrounding area—I sprinted up it like a gazelle. After shedding my armor and gambeson, as soaked as a mattress left in a filled bathtub, I sprawled on the dry grass and, inhaling the scent of meadow herbs, felt almost happy: I had finally escaped those swamps.

I lay there for at least fifteen minutes, squinting and watching the sun rise higher and higher above the horizon. No clammy fog around—instead, a pleasant, warm breeze caressed my skin. How good it was!

Resting more mentally than physically, for an umpteenth time in the last few days did I began putting my belongings in order and cleaning my armor. If it weren't for household magic, this would have taken at least three hours. But thanks to spells from the Schools of Wind, Fire, and Water, I managed in just about thirty minutes.

Tying the lonely right boot to my backpack, I slung Striking Whisper over my shoulder and, humming a tune from a children's cartoon, walked barefoot toward the village I had spotted from the hilltop.

All my worries, all my dissatisfaction with the goddess of Night Cool, faded into the background. I was literally enjoying the fact that I could simply walk, not crawl, feeling every pebble and blade of grass under my bare feet. And wearing the dried clothes—I had forgotten how such a simple thing could be so pleasant!

Nevertheless, having learned from the deykans' attack, I kept my auras up and stayed alert. It was thanks to this heightened awareness that I managed to make out human speech—barely discernible, quiet. It came from behind a low hillock, just about one and a half times my height, slightly off the path I had chosen.

People! That was good news: I could ask them how to get to the nearest town faster, and maybe I wouldn't have to go to the village, which was at least five kilometers away. Although if there was a cobbler in that village, stopping by would definitely be worthwhile. Judging by the voices, there were two people talking: an elderly man and a young woman. The man was clearly scolding her, while the girl seemed to be making excuses.

As I climbed the hillock, I witnessed a rather curious scene. On a small mound at the edge of the swamps sat two people: a gray-haired man in his sixties and a relatively young girl. They were dressed in similar loose garments but wore them in entirely different ways. The man looked strict and neat in his clothes, while the girl, on the contrary, seemed not to care at all how the clothes fit her.

However, what intrigued me wasn't the pair themselves but the fact that beside them calmly sat two enormous toads. The very predatory toads, which, as I had already experienced, could spit poisonous slime nearly fifty meters away. And did so accurately. Both amphibians were waist-high and weighed no less than eighty kilograms each. My surprise grew even more when I realized that the toads weren't alive. Nor were they dead, but rather... strange. Upon closer inspection, I understood that these weren't real creatures but statues molded from clay and other ingredients, their resemblance to living amphibians enhanced by skillful Illusion magic.

The man and the girl were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't notice my arrival. I decided not to interfere: I hid behind a bush and, covering myself with the Shadow Cloak, began to watch. In this Cycle, I had yet to see the work of Summoning mages or, as they were called here, Embodiment shamans. Yes, I was simply curious.

A Master of Embodiment or, as they say in the central regions of Ain, Summoning! The elderly man of Emerald rank could be no one else. A very rare specialization in Ain. Rare because mastering this discipline required four Talents: in Life magic, Earth, Illusions, and Mental. And to achieve any success in this magical school, each of these Talents must be at least three Stars.

"Did you understand everything?" the man asked the girl sitting opposite him sternly.

"Teacher," she said wearily, barely hiding her irritation. "You've explained it five times already, and I got it all from the first."

"She got it from the first!" the Master of Embodiment smirked. "Like with that mouse? The one that ate the headman's cat after escaping from you?"

"Come on... teacher... Are you really going to keep bringing that up every time?!" The girl blushed slightly, clearly recalling an unpleasant story.

"Then repeat what you must do!" the master ordered strictly.

"I take the vessel with the spirit of the toad," the girl showed a small, intricately carved malachite vial. "And then, pressing it to the mouth of the base, I pour the spirit into the golem."

"Just pour it?" the man clarified.

"While controlling the process with Life magic," the girl quickly corrected herself.

"Then?" the Master of Summoning demanded.

"I establish contact with the binding stones using Mental," she touched the amulet on her chest with her left hand.

"And don't forget to maintain the Illusion of form similarity!"

"Master! It's hard, but I'll manage."

"Wait. 'She'll manage!' First, I'll show you."

Stopping the impatient student with a gesture, the Master of Embodiment performed the procedure he had described on the toad statue nearby. In less than a minute, the toad "came to life." It really came to life, as now I could seemingly feel a presence of life in it. The toad-like golem moved its limbs, opened its mouth, and, apparently obeying a mental command from the master, spat heartily at a small tree about ten meters away. The trunk of the poor young ash blackened and charred where the spit hit.

Honestly, if I hadn't known it was a golem in front of me, I would never have guessed the true nature of this "living" frog. It moved so naturally, even remembering to periodically clean its eyes with its long tongue.

"Your turn," the master nodded.

The girl immediately set to her task. She acted very carefully, almost slowly, as if mentally rehearsing each step several times before doing something. This meticulousness and strict adherence to the instructions paid off. The golem sitting next to her also "came to life," though its movements were jerky and abrupt, nothing like those of a real toad.

The girl's golem swayed, then jumped in place, opened its mouth, tried to spit, but failed. She shook her head angrily, waved her hand, and at that moment, seemingly lost control over the magic of Illusion—her toad appeared to melt away like a candle, revealing the bare clay underneath the amphibian skin.

The girl's eyes widened in fear, but the Master of Embodiment waved his hand, and her golem immediately froze in place, the illusion faded off its body, and it began to crack. The Summoner quickly snatched the malachite vial from her hands, then, with a sharp blow of his free hand, split the golem in two and caught some misty substance, which he immediately sealed in the vessel.

"Sorry, Master," the girl muttered, lowering her gaze.

"You have nothing to apologize for," the older man said with a satisfied smile, hiding the vial with the captured spirit of the swamp toad. "You mastered in two months what takes others years. I am pleased with you."

"But…"

"No arguing with your teacher, girl," the Master of Embodiment shook his finger.

Realizing that the Emerald-ranked master would notice me as soon as he finished the lesson, I decided not to wait and revealed myself, standing up straight.

Whether it was my admittedly quite disheveled appearance or the Embodiment mage's confidence, my sudden appearance didn't startle him. Only his personal golem shifted slightly so it could spit poisonous saliva at me at any moment.

Stopping five meters from the pair, I drove the butt of my spear into the ground, showed my empty hands, and introduced myself:

"Raven Alexandrite, Sheriff of the Tunnellers' Guild, following the path of Sundbad, pleased to greet the esteemed Master of Embodiment and his apprentice from the rarely-seen sortudo people."

I was almost certain the mage's apprentice was an earthling. It was rare for locals at such a young age—the girl looked barely twenty—to reach the Wootz Coil. Her way of dressing and her lack of reverence towards her teacher, which was completely unacceptable by local standards, all indicated that I had encountered one of ours.

"Sortudo?" the mage said with a slight smirk, glancing at the girl. "She never mentioned her people to me." Standing up, the Master of Embodiment brushed off his clothes and introduced himself, "Aranis, the Shaper of Forms, Emerald Coil mage, pleased to greet the sheriff of the Great Tunnellers' Guild." He then turned a demanding look on his apprentice, clicking his tongue.

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The girl immediately jumped to her feet and, without taking her curious gaze off me, bowed formally but somewhat awkwardly.

"Alice... Just Alice. Apprentice to Master Aranis, the Shaper of Forms."

"She will soon be known as Alice the Spirit Binder," the Master of Embodiment said with evident pride in his voice.

"Master, I still need to cross the First Wall to earn that name," the earthling girl feigned modesty, lowering her eyes.

But her teacher was clearly taken in by this act and, as it seemed to me, became even prouder of his student's display of humility.

Alice... I hadn't met this girl in the Last Cycle. Yet, the name was familiar: it was quite common among earthlings. But I didn't know anyone called Spirit Binder, nor had I ever heard of such a person before.

"I apologize for interrupting your lesson," I said, bowing my head. "But it's rare to see an Embodiment Master's work up close. Please forgive my disrespectful curiosity."

"We've already finished the lesson. But yes, you're right, adepts of the School of Embodiment are indeed rare," the master nodded with what seemed to me poorly feigned regret.

"Because one needs so many talents just to grasp the basics of Embodiment magic," I added.

I had already realized that this elderly man was susceptible to flattery, and it seemed I hit the mark. The mage's chin lifted, and his glance at his student seemed to say, 'See how lucky you are with me? Appreciate it!'

"Master, may I speak with the esteemed sheriff alone?" Alice suddenly spoke up.

The poor Embodiment mage, who had taken this earthling as his apprentice, was frozen in shock at such a breach of etiquette and basic politeness. I thought he might explode with anger; his face turned so red. To prevent a scandal, or rather, a scolding of the careless student by the strict teacher, I stepped forward.

"Esteemed Aranis, the Shaper of Forms," I uttered his full name, "please don't be angry with your student. The norms of politeness among our people differ from those here, and she simply hasn't adapted yet. Allow me to speak with her and emphasize the importance of respect."

"Respect is important," the mage immediately nodded, clearly pleased that someone would help him discipline such a headstrong student. "I don't mind. And my head is aching from her verbosity, so I'll go for a walk."

Saying this, he bowed to me and leisurely walked toward the hill. Meanwhile, his golem stayed with us—either as a guard or a spy, or likely both.

Waiting for the Mage of Embodiment to disappear behind the hill, the girl glanced at the magical frog at her feet and quickly started babbling in English:

"What the hell is a sortudo? You're one of us! Raven is clearly an Earth name! And who is the sheriff of the Great Guild? Did you somehow become a local cop?"

Barely restraining myself from facepalming, I added steel to my voice and sharply replied, holding back laughter and suddenly feeling sorry for the Master of Embodiment:

"First! The one who outranks speaks first. Should I tell you how several of our kind lost their heads just for looking the wrong way at some local noble?"

The girl paled at my reprimand but didn't avert her demanding gaze.

"How are you still alive with that attitude?"

"None of your business!" Alice snapped, crossing her arms. "As you can see, I am alive!"

"Oh, believe me, if you keep behaving like that here, your life won't last long," I shook my head. "Second," I continued without letting her interject, "sortudo is what questers call earthlings."

"Que..."

"Questers, as in 'quest'—mission. You know who I mean," I interrupted again with a wicked smile.

"I get it," the girl agreed with a wrinkled nose.

"Third: a sheriff isn't a cop, more like something vaguely resembling what we had in the Wild West. But only vaguely, not an exact match. As for how I became a sheriff, as you said yourself, it's none of your business."

Not expecting such a retort, she took a step back.

"Fourth. Do you even realize how lucky you are to find a teacher, and from such a rare School at that?! And by the way, in the local tradition, a teacher can beat a student half to death just for... for nothing, just because they felt like it, and no one will say a word."

"Beat me..." Alice smirked. "I've got the old geezer right here!" She clenched her fist.

"Don't think he's stupid," I shook my head, realizing I probably wouldn't get through to her. "Fools don't become Mages of Embodiment. Such people simply don't live to a ripe old age, losing control over the spirit of their golem due to their own stupidity."

"He's not stupid, yeah," Alice nodded. "And an excellent master. But he's as good a teacher as a bullet made of crap! And he's so vain you can play him like a fiddle."

Why was my luck like this? Yet another manipulator, picturing herself as some skirted Machiavelli… as if Arien, Scully, and Ye Lan hadn't been enough for me.

Damn that Da'Nnan's first group trial—the one that left mostly people like her and me. And good people... Good people didn't fight for the Life Rods.

I looked at this arrogant girl who thought too highly of herself and clearly considered the locals second-rate people, and suddenly, I realized that instead of her, I would have preferred to meet Lan Lin. I wondered if she was even alive or...

"Hey, but why are you alone? Where's your group? And..." Alice pressed on with her questions.

The image of Lan Lin was so vivid in my mind that when I looked up at this mindlessly chattering manipulator, I felt nauseous.

Ye Lan, Scully, and Arien—at least, they had charisma, forged their own destinies. But her, this Alice... She just got very, very lucky. She clearly lost her original group, and the reason didn't matter here—yet an experienced master immediately took her under his wing, protecting her from most of the threats in this world. And she, instead of being grateful to her teacher, called him an old geezer and treated him with barely concealed contempt. No, she wasn't a monster like Ulerai or Skorzeny. She was just an ungrateful wretch. At that moment, I clearly realized I didn't want to waste my time on her.

My right hand shot up, and my palm clasped around the girl's throat, cutting off her breath and lifting her feet off the ground. She was Wootz and wouldn't die from this. My gaze fixed on the golem, and I spoke in the local dialect:

"I am the sheriff of the sortudo people, to whom this girl belongs. I am within my rights. And I'm also a warrior of Sapphire, capable of having dozens of such toads for breakfast. Master Aranis, do you hear me?"

The toad rose on its legs, swayed as if in thought, and then demonstratively turned away from us. I had no doubt the Master of Embodiment understood perfectly that I wasn't going to kill his student and took my violence as a means of instilling respect. As soon as the toad turned away, I saw genuine fear in Alice's eyes.

"You passed the first group trial," I whispered in English. "As you can see, so did I."

That really got to her; her hands began to shake, and she started to struggle out of my grip—but no chance. When she attempted to use some magic, I shook her with a Discharge, making her hair stand on end. All thoughts of magic instantly vanished from her mind.

"I can snap your neck. Just like that, simply because I don't like you. And walk away calmly. And no one, not even your teacher, would dare stop me." Here, I was blatantly lying; if I killed her now, Master Aranis wouldn't let it slide and would try to finish me off. But Alice didn't know that. "And I don't like you." Genuine horror filled her eyes. "You know, there's a saying in the East: 'Politeness extends life.' You've clearly never heard it."

She was hopeless. I'd met people like her before. Simple words couldn't change them. They thought themselves the smartest, and others—mere resources. Only on the brink of death did they sometimes manage to grasp something. Of course, if I'd stayed here for a week or two, I might have managed to knock some sense into her. But did I need that? I'd conduct a shock therapy session, and if it didn't help—she'd only have herself to blame for not living long.

"This world is full of kings, influential guilds, and other powers. Intrigue and manipulation are survival skills for the local nobility, not just a pastime. With your primitive schemes, they'll devour you like a Doberman does a Pekingese, leaving not even bones behind. Maybe I should take pity on you? After all, death from broken vertebrae is far more merciful than being quartered..."

While she was at the peak of her fear, I squeezed her neck tighter, cutting off her air completely. She struggled for about three minutes, desperately resisting, but eventually passed out, hanging limply in my grasp like a rag doll. Tossing the girl's body aside but ensuring she didn't break anything, I turned back to the toad-golem.

"My apologies, esteemed Master Aranis, but it seems your apprentice is beyond discipline."

"I know," said the mage from the School of Embodiment, appearing from behind a hill.

He immediately saw that the girl was alive and that I showed no aggression towards him.

"She is disrespectful, rude, acts like a princess in exile," he whispered.

"Then why are you so lenient with her?" I was genuinely curious.

"Talented. She's very talented," Aranis, the Shaper of Forms, shook his head.

"Your leniency won't do her any good. Our lands are far away, and no one will come to her aid. I'm not asking you to care for her because I understand: you are her teacher, and her life is in your hands. But be stricter with her."

"When I yell at her, she cries. She sobs so much that I feel like plugging my ears," the master grimaced.

"You'll endure it," I smiled. "She'll cry for a while and then stop."

In the fact that Alice's tears from her teacher's scolding were just a simple act, I had no doubt.

"And one more thing, when she wakes up, don't mention me at all. As if I wasn't even here."

"Why?" the mage of Embodiment was surprised.

"Consider it an element of teaching respect," I said, giving a conspicuous wink.

"And I suppose I shouldn't give her a potion for her aching neck either…" the mage drawled with a smile.

"As befits a true master, you understood perfectly," I bowed respectfully. "Now, could you please direct me to the nearest town?.."

Five minutes later, as I was leaving after bidding farewell to the master of the Embodiment school, the girl named Alice was still lying unconscious on the ground.

Having distanced myself from the place where I met the teacher and his troublesome apprentice, I finally calmed down and realized I'd been wrong. I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I should have just talked to her. Sure, it probably wouldn't have knocked any sense into this Alice, but maybe something would have clicked in her mind—at least made her reconsider acting the way she did if she wanted to stay alive. I couldn't really believe such a conversation would have helped, but…

She had simply been unlucky. First, I had been stirring up memories of the future too often lately. As a result, I had been recalling how the "past me" used to act, and that bled into my current self. Second, it was really bad timing for Alice that I remembered Lan Lin, and the comparison between the girls was definitely not in the apprentice's favor. Sure, Lan Lin was no saint either, but at least she saw people as people, not as mere material. Still, none of this changed the fact that I was in the wrong. And I had lost my temper. I needed to remember this lesson and keep such outbursts of anger under control.

And why did I even remember Lan Lin? Not just remembered her, but couldn't get her out of my head. What kind of Vietnam flashbacks were those?

Gritting my teeth, I quickened my pace and, gripping Striking Whisper, started training on the move, trying to erase the vivid image from my mind.

The training helped. Not immediately, but eventually, Lan Lin's image faded from my thoughts and then disappeared altogether, leaving behind a strange bitterness.

In the evening, an hour before sunset, I approached a town with the simple name of Gray Ford. According to Master Aranis, small Gates of Sundbad were located here, through which I could travel to Pentapolis.

The guards at the gate watched the passing barefoot Sheriff of the Tunnellers' Guild—that is, me—with surprise, but didn't dare to ask even a single question.

Gesturing to the first city boy I saw, I tossed him a small coin and told him to take me to the best cobbler in town and recommend a tailor who could sew new pants by sunrise.