Solo Strategy

Having decided that there was no rush and that haste would only harm, I took Striking Whisper and went down to the inn's courtyard, and, after rinsing off with cold water, began my training. First, as usual, I went through the Kata of All Elements, then focused more deeply on stretching and spear work. Despite the cool morning, I even managed to break a sweat when Geophon came down to the yard and also started warming up. Indeed, I had trained him well during my time as strategist of the Ainuminati—got him used to daily training, which had certainly done him good.

After finishing another set of exercises, the Earth mage suggested a sparring match to show how he had improved with his staff. It was easy for me to agree—a training fight was a good way to clear the head. For almost a quarter of an hour, we practiced various defensive combinations. I attacked—not at full strength, of course, and with my pace slightly slowed—and Geophon defended himself, aiding himself with magic with my permission. I wouldn't say his technique had significantly improved since our last meeting, but some progress certainly was there—I noted this, offering restrained praise. Once we ended our training bout, Geophon watched me creating the Lightness spell and was reasonably satisfied with the result.

After the warm-up, we had a leisurely breakfast, discussing the potential future of Sun City as the main base of the Ainuminati. Naturally, I carefully led the Earth mage to the idea that it wasn't the best place, suggesting alternatives, but without stating it directly. I simply presented the facts I knew from a different perspective. Knowing Geophon's character, there was no other way.

After breakfast, we parted ways: Geophon went to "stroll" around the city, and I headed to the master shoemaker to check on the progress of my order. I hoped the boots were ready, but reality was slightly disappointing: the production timeline had shifted instead. The order was non-standard, and difficulties arose during the assembly stage. However, the master promised to sort it out and finish everything by evening.

So as not to waste time, I went around the alchemy shops, both those affiliated with the Guild and independent ones. The silver plate Kiadi gave me, identifying me as a friend of the Great Guild, indeed provided significant discounts in stores connected to it—sometimes up to fifty percent, which I gladly took advantage of.

From the memory of the future, I knew that the prices of alchemical preparations in Sun City were even slightly lower than in Deytran. After making an initial round of the shops and stalls, I dove into purchasing, actively using Kiadi's "discount card." I spent quite a bit, but it was worth it, especially on potions that helped to better sense the flow of energies. Those would come in handy when working on spells, and especially in magic training. Previously, I couldn't bring myself to part with money for such vials, but now, with the discount, I considered these expenses quite justified.

After the alchemical purchases, I dropped by the Artifactors' Guild branch—I wanted to find out the price of creating a spatial artifact for my needs. I spent half an hour explaining exactly what I needed, but I didn't place an order: the price turned out prohibitive. All I wanted was a fairly compact, narrow box that would fit conveniently in my backpack and easily hold a disassembled hang glider.

While discussing the details, I cautiously asked the mage-consultant if he had heard of anyone named Morpheus. In the Last Cycle, as I remembered, the brilliant earthling showed interest precisely in this Guild. Alas, no one at the Sun City branch knew of the person I described.

Amid these errands, lunchtime came unnoticed. I grabbed a bite in a regular eatery, not particularly paying attention to the taste of the food. At the same time, I pondered how to spend the remaining time until evening usefully, while waiting for the artifact boots to be ready.

I wanted to meet with Joanna and Kiadi to ask them a few clarifying questions. But the Bearer of Pacifying Light had warned in advance that she would be busy for the coming weeks and also asked not to publicize our meeting yesterday. As for her brother, right after our evening conversation, he left for Atreia; he was planning to find the original records left by their grandfather concerning the Righteous Elevation Sect. Upon learning that I planned to stay in Deytran, Kiadi promised to find me himself.

So, it wasn't worth going to the barracks—I didn't want to put Joanna in an awkward position. If any important information came up, she would reach out herself.

After finishing lunch, I headed to the city's Arena. Unlike those in Deytran and Feyst, the local "coliseum" looked much more modest. In Sun City, tournaments were rare, and fights for spectacle and entertainment were not particularly encouraged by the paladins and priests of Antares. Nevertheless, the Arena was operational. Judicial duels were held here, as well as executions of apostates and followers of Darkness. Once a week, voluntary fights were organized for those willing to risk the filling of their Core in Duels of Strength for advancement along the Great Spiral. For some reason, this type of duel was supported by the corps, and paladins served as judges and guarantors of fairness.

I had once considered participating in such fights as an alternative path of development. However, due to the corps-approved regulations, this route was temporarily closed to me. Only those whose Cores were filled at least halfway to the required volume for elevation to the next rank were allowed to participate. Having recently advanced to Sapphire and not yet accumulated the necessary Achievements, my Core's fill level was less than a tenth of what was needed for Emerald.

I still asked the available steward about such duels, cross-checking the information with what my memory of the future had retained. I didn't learn anything new, but at least I confirmed that my "memories" hadn't let me down in this case.

Leaving the Arena, I stopped at a street fountain and, after taking a few sips of icy water, looked toward the central square. On one hand, visiting Sun City without stopping by the Main Temple of Antares—especially given my Affinity with Light—might seem odd to those interested in me, namely the corps members. On the other hand, I wasn't particularly eager to offer prayers at the true altar, fearing the Echo's reaction to my recently acquired adamantium achievement with its Shadow lining. Going to the temple was unappealing, but the more I thought about it, the clearer it became that such a visit was likely unavoidable. Especially if I hoped to maintain good relations with the Paladin Corps. On my first day in Sun City, I could still blame the holiday bustle and postpone my prayer—there were too many people. But if I left without visiting the temple, it would indeed raise questions among both the paladins and the priests of Light. Besides, there was a good chance that the Echo of Antares would bless me with a new spell from the arsenal of Light magic. And that would be very timely.

Encouraging myself with these thoughts, I headed towards the square. It wasn't as crowded as on the festival day, but there were still plenty of people despite the less-than-ideal weather. A cold wind blowing from the north had dropped the temperature to eighteen degrees, and I regretted wearing only a shirt and light pants.

Leisurely reaching the central fountain, I sat on its edge, pretending to admire the sculptural composition. In reality, I tried to feel the presence of the true Shadow altar, hidden, as I knew from the memory of the future, in the very heart of the City of Light. However, I didn't dare to directly reach out to Shadow itself or my Affinity—perhaps that's why I didn't sense even a hint of the powerful shrine of Shadow, even though I should have been just a few steps away. My new "sense of the interesting" was silent too, which was slightly troubling. I still didn't understand exactly how it worked. Sometimes it would hint and guide me... But more often, it just remained mute.

After sitting by the fountain for about ten minutes and feeling nothing, I headed to the Gate complex. I wanted to sign up in advance for the Transition to Deytran. But the servants of Sundbad, the god of Paths and Roads, were disappointing again: the nearest window to the world's trading capital was expected no earlier than in three days. And I wasn't willing to waste that much time. I'd have to get to Deytran on my own—not too difficult, and I'd test the durability of my new boots along the way.

Politely bidding farewell to the servant who answered my questions, I set aside my doubts and walked towards the main Temple. Already at the base of the stairs, I had to navigate around numerous groups of pilgrims. In the local mentality, visiting the Sun City without offering a prayer at the main Temple of Light was considered almost sacrilegious.

Unlike other temples, this one was guarded not by ordinary watchmen but by a pair of junior paladins and about ten recruits in their second and third years of training. Just one look at these Warriors of Light, standing motionless in full armor, was enough to understand: if Dice had decided to pull his audacious performance here, the priests wouldn't have even needed to intervene. The future god of Rest and Leisure would have been beaten black and blue right on those sacred steps, without the slightest mercy.

If I had been an ordinary traveler visiting the city, I might have had to wait until sunset for my turn to pray at the true Altar of Light—there were so many others wishing to do the same.

On Earth, it used to annoy me immensely when someone, using their status or connections, cut in line. But Ain changed me. Yes, I felt like a bit of an arrogant jerk when I bypassed a group of pilgrims, climbed two flights of stairs, and approached a priest deep in thought. Mentally, I justified myself by thinking that this was the norm here—a person of certain status wouldn't stand in the same line as peasants, artisans, and small traders. If I, a noble and, moreover, the sheriff of the Great Guild, had submissively taken a place at the end of the long line, I would have been thought of as either insane or, at the very least, a very strange person.

Demonstrating the Sign of Affinity with Light, I immediately drew the priest's attention. All I had to do was explain that I wished to offer a prayer to Antares, and I was, almost insistently, escorted up the stairway straight to the open doors of the temple. However, despite the blessing of Light, I still had to wait a bit before being allowed to pray.

The true altar of Light, dedicated to Antares, was a magnificent sculptural ensemble, as if carved from glowing solar marble. At the center, on a pedestal of dazzling white stone, stood the figure of the god himself—a powerful, idealized warrior with features of stern, merciless beauty. His face was turned forward and slightly upward, as if he were looking through the ages, through the complaints of mortals, to where Justice turned into Light. In his features, there was neither sympathy nor anger—only proud majesty and unbreakable resolve.

Antares was bare to the waist, his chest crossed by thin solar threads—symbols of eternal radiance. In his right hand, he held a long sword, its tip seemingly melting the air, and with his left, he drew aside a heavy curtain carved from translucent quartz—the embodiment of Darkness, burned away by his light. At his feet lay broken masks of hypocrisy, fear, self-deception—a reminder that before the Light, all that is true becomes apparent. Around the pedestal, in elegant niches, were scenes from myths: Antares vanquishing a creature of Darkness; Antares raising a fallen warrior; Antares rejecting the pleas of kings but forgiving a fallen priestess. All of this was framed by a halo of sunrays carved into the stone.

It was an altar, looking at which, not even the most hardened egotist would think to ask for comfort or worldly favors here.

Without kneeling, I approached the altar and placed my palms on the pedestal. Such liberties were not allowed to ordinary mortals, but I, marked by Light, had the right to do so.

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At first, for about twenty seconds, I felt nothing but the slightly cool marble against my skin. However, just as I began to think that my prayer would go unanswered this time, everything changed. A broad stream of light enveloped me from head to toe. Initially, it was pleasant, like basking in warm sunlight. But with each passing second, the temperature of the light stream increased until I felt a burning sensation—the cotton shirt on my shoulders began to smolder.

Pain, as if my body were being plunged into a scorching furnace, washed over me in a fiery wave. I gritted my teeth and endured. Somewhere inside, I knew Antares didn't intend to kill me. But I also sensed that the god of Light was displeased with me for some reason. This heat wasn't punishment for the adamantium achievement with the Shadow lining. Antares was above such trifles. In the radiance surrounding me, besides the pain, there was something else—purification.

At some point, I saw myself from the outside. I watched as the pouch given to me by the Man of a Thousand Faces in the underwater cave burned away on my belt. I saw a strange, greenish pattern, previously unnoticed by me, disappear from my right forearm. I observed the dark spot vanish from where Wayne's blade had touched my neck. I noticed a barely discernible, ghostly imprint of either a wreath or a circlet appear on my head, which long resisted the will of the Echo but eventually crumbled to ash and disappeared in the Light. Then the Light penetrated deeper, pierced me like a giant's sword, and in an incredible whirlwind visible only to me, swirled around the Core. One particularly intense ray separated from the flow, traveled through my energy channels, and imparted in me the knowledge of how to use the Aura of Light.

As soon as I realized this, the searing radiance receded, dimmed, and I found myself standing in the center of Antares' main Temple again.

The moment it happened, I felt an overwhelming shame. Shame for my own stupidity and complacency. I had interacted with quite powerful personalities who showed a clear interest in me, yet I hadn't even bothered to perform the ritual of Cleansing. Such unforgivable laxity and carelessness. And the Echo of Antares literally rubbed my nose in this recklessness, removing all the marks that had been "attached" to me. For that, I was immensely grateful.

"Thank you," I said quietly, but completely sincerely.

And at that moment, I realized that the main temple hall was utterly silent. Everyone was looking at me. And, admittedly, there were quite objective reasons for that.

Firstly, I was smoking. A light vapor rose from my body, and my shirt was scorched in several places; moreover, the right sleeve was burned almost to the shoulder. Secondly, at my feet lay a thin layer of ash, in which scattered coins stood out remarkably clearly—the small change I kept in the pouch given to me by the Man of a Thousand Faces and used for minor expenses. Picking up the money in such a situation seemed sacrilegious. Besides, thirty silver coins were a small price for Antares cleansing me of alien spells.

In complete silence, I bowed to the altar once more, turned around, and left the temple's main hall. Even the junior paladins standing at the entrance respectfully stepped aside, not taking their astonished eyes off my still-smoking clothes.

Being in some strange, even somewhat lost state, I did not remember how I reached the inn, went up to my room, and, after closing the door behind me, sank heavily onto the edge of the bed.

Mm-hm. I had felt cooler than mountains and higher than the sky. Let my guard down. And once again, I was practically shoved nose-first into that complacency. And by whom?! An echo of the god of Light! Of all the beings, I didn't expect such help from Antares. And the most annoying part was—I was sure a regular Cleansing ritual in the Temple of Ishid would have easily revealed all these marks. But I didn't even think of performing it. That was the worst part—I didn't even think...

Well, with the purse, that was clear. It was the work of the Man of a Thousand Faces. The dark spot on my neck was also more or less clear—it appeared where Wayne's blade touched my skin. But the pattern on my forearm was more complicated. It didn't look like a trace of Shadow. I had no idea who could have bestowed such a mark on me. Maybe... Arien? Or Scully? The Huntress did mention she knew how to place marks.

From the pattern I managed to discern on my forearm before the weave of the unfamiliar and clearly covert spell burned away in the cleansing Light, it was evident: the structure was characteristic of tracking charms of Life magic. Such spells were often used by priests of Elai to monitor patients' vital signs. Hmm. If this was indeed Life magic, then Arien had nothing to do with it. She would have used something based on the Elements if she wanted to track me.

Still, even if placed secretly and without my knowledge, this mark posed no threat. Someone simply wanted to know if I was alive... or when I would die. Scully would have used something different, perhaps a hunter's mark, to sense my approach. And there was also the very fact of such a complex pattern being applied covertly—that was the level of the Heroic Coil. Wait. Of course. Joanna. She grabbed me precisely by the forearm when I got up from the table and was about to refuse to help the brother and sister.

Could it have been her? Quite possibly. And even if I had discovered this mark myself, she would have denied all accusations, saying she just wanted to know if I was alive. But she could have warned me. Yet she didn't. And I was not to forget this when I would be talking to her next time.

But what was that band on my head—like the trace of a circlet? A sudden guess made me break into a sweat. I frantically tried to remember: did I put on the wreath that Reygyana handed me when we met in the Wicked Woods? It seemed not. Definitely not. I just twirled it in my hands and gave it back to her without trying it on. So, this trace was left by something else. But who left it? The questers? If so, an ordinary Cleansing ritual wouldn't have helped, but the Echo of Antares might have been able to remove that mark.

But even this was just a guess. I couldn't say for certain that it was them who left the mark. Too little information. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't recall anything that could leave such an imprint. Another mystery. And they seemed to be piling up. Mysteries to which I had no answers.

I definitely needed to find Morpheus as soon as possible and task him with solving at least some of these puzzles plaguing me. I was sure he'd be interested in tracking down the traces of the Righteous Elevation Sect. As far as I remembered, back on Earth, he was into debunking conspiracy theories and spent his free time looking for signs of secret orders, the Illuminati, and the like. Shifting at least part of my problems onto someone else's shoulders seemed like an especially appealing idea right now.

But... the search for Morpheus could wait. After all, he was bound to pass through Deytran—and precisely there I would "catch" him. I'd just need to give his description to the street kids—they'd report immediately if someone like him showed up in the city. Also, I could toss the same job to the Thieves' Guild. For a small fee, if I limited it to the trading capital, and for a bit more, they would be able to find him in any city of Pentapolis.

For the umpteenth time in recent days, I suppressed the urge to jump up and start doing something, bustling about. No, it definitely wasn't the right thing to do now. Pulling myself together, I simply collapsed onto the bed.

In essence, nothing terrible had happened. Even if, for instance, the Man of a Thousand Faces was indeed tracking my whereabouts, it would be extremely difficult for him to discover the altars of the Night Sister that I had found. Especially considering that in the Patanga swamps, tracking magic worked miserably, or often didn't work at all. The only thing that continued to bother me was the band mark on my head. And it bothered me mainly because I had no idea who could have left it. Uncertainty in such matters was always a cause for nervousness.

Finally calming down, I ordered a large tub of warm water, washed up, changed, and, without hesitation, burned the shirt ruined by the Light in the inn's courtyard. As I watched the ashes scatter, I thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to get some warmer clothes. The weather was clearly getting worse, with autumn confidently taking hold. Even though winters around Pentapolis were mild and the temperature rarely dipped below freezing, something like a sweater wouldn't hurt. Of course, my gambeson could serve as a replacement, but it wasn't really suitable for walking around the city, especially after the modifications Katashi had made to its design. As I dispersed the ashes of the burned shirt, Geophon entered the courtyard.

"Ave!" I waved to the Earth mage.

"But we already saw each other this morning," he expressed a slight surprise, but then got straight to the point: "Listen, I have a couple of questions for you."

"Ask away. If I know the answer, I won't hide it," I agreed easily.

It turned out the earth mage had not two questions, but about a dozen, all concerning various aspects of life in Sun City. I answered most of them honestly and made cautious guesses for the rest, covering up the knowledge drawn from my memory of the future.

"Listen," I leaned in closer as Geophon's questioning waned, "could you pass on a request to Arien?"

"I'll pass it on, but you know her; she'll decide for herself what to do about it," the Ainuminati mage replied diplomatically.

"Well, it's nothing urgent. But I think she might find it interesting. Ask her next time if she could create a spell based on the air element that works like a magnifying lens or something like a magical equivalent of a spyglass."

Of course, I could have just bought a regular spyglass. Moreover, sooner or later, one of the earthlings would surely take on the task of creating such a useful tool and make it better than the local crafts. But a spyglass, albeit a minor one, was still extra weight. And in the future, I'd have to fly a hang glider, so saving even in such small things could prove important. Besides, I wasn't asking for the spell to be created urgently.

"I heard Felicia is working on something similar at Clement's request," Geophon said, scratching his nose. "Though she's having trouble with the focus. The instability of air currents and misalignment of the sightline, something like that. But I'll check with her."

"And also, if Arien doesn't mind, could you or she send a message to the Deytran branch of the Tunnellers' Guild as soon as you settle on the new Ainuminati base?"

"Planning to visit?" Geophon smirked, winking.

Rumors had long circulated in the guild that I was hopelessly in love with Arien, even spent a night with her, only to be supposedly rejected afterward. And, admittedly, there was some truth to these rumors. So neither I nor Arien ever denied them. Evidently recalling this, Geophon winked, figuring I just wanted to see my ex again. I didn't bother to correct him. On the contrary—I even let my ears flush a little.

Actually, the idea of delegating various matters to competent people seemed quite sensible. Sure, I had used this tactic before, but only now did I realize: it was worth employing it more actively.

"By the way, since you're a good earth mage..." I flattered Geophon a bit, "Can you tell me if it's possible to make a surface you're touching more even?"

"Runes," he guessed immediately. "You can do it if it's a wall or, say, a rock fragment. But it won't work on an enemy's armor, skin, or some creature's scales. And the spell itself would take way longer than engraving the runes."

"Too bad," I replied, not too disappointed. "Then another question. Can Lightness be reworked to function as an aura? It already somewhat resembles one—requiring constant focus and energy."

"I've thought about that myself," the earth mage admitted. "Making armor lighter... or weapons. If the object's mass remains the same, the force of the strike is retained despite the weight reduction. But I'm still just studying aura theory. Or rather, the locals don't have such a theory at all, so I'm basically starting from scratch." He paused and added gravely, "It's an interesting question in itself. And I'm not the only one working on it."

Unfortunately, I didn't remember if a method for converting spells into auras had been developed in the Last Cycle, so I couldn't help Geophon. But since I had the time, I didn't let it go to waste and kept training with the Ainuminati mage, especially since he didn't object, likely feeling obliged for my answers about the city.

This time, we practiced not only Lightness but also Scales and Bull's Strength. The more experienced spellcaster's comments were helpful; I began to control the energy flows better, and even Bull's Strength, which I had long considered mastered, started to apply more precisely. The artifact Earth Ring also contributed.

Time flew by during these training sessions, and my nerves, frayed by my visit to the Temple, finally settled. About two hours before sunset, I said goodbye to Geophon, warning him that I would soon be leaving the inn and heading to Deytran. After that, I went out into the city and headed toward the craftsman's quarter.

On the way, I bought another simple but sturdy shirt—having a spare wouldn't hurt. The master shoemaker greeted me with good news: the artifact footwear, resembling earth-style combat boots, was ready.

"As you requested, Om Raven, the Sign you left was attached to the second layer of the sole. It's not visible, of course, but it's there," the master informed me.

During our last meeting, I had left him two drawings of the Strengthening rune, inscribed by me on a very thin, almost transparent piece of parchment.

The master truly proved to be an expert in his craft. It didn't even feel like I was wearing heavy boots—more like comfortable house slippers. Some of the materials used I recognized: swamp troll hide, sand deinosuchus leather. All this was expensive even without considering the ritual magic, and with it—even more so. In principle, the Strengthening rune wasn't particularly needed for such footwear, but I'd still asked for it to be incorporated into the overall enchantment circuit, if possible.

We parted satisfied with each other: I because I got reliable shoes, and he because, for the first time in many years, he made something unique instead of just another pair of boots for paladins.

Returning to the inn, I packed my old shoes and spare shirt into my backpack. Then I donned my armor, slung the backpack over my shoulder, and, after heading downstairs, settled the final bill for the room.

I left the "Chalice of Light" as the sun was beginning to set.

Deytran awaited me.