Land of Magic

Home > Other > Land of Magic > Page 33
Land of Magic Page 33

by Kirill Klevanski


  “The blank slate is ready. Now all that’s left is to fold the space.”

  With his other hand, Billom grabbed... the air. Squeezing it, he seemed to slam it into the ring. It all seemed like a pantomime, as there were no apparent signs of energy being used. However, after a minute, Billom handed the ring to Hadjar.

  “Here you go. After you use it for the first time, the artifact will be tied to your essence and, without breaking the protective spell, no one else will be able to use it. Not even after your death.”

  Not believing his eyes, Hadjar took the ring carefully. Sliding it onto his finger, he focused on the ring. He found himself inside a space three times larger than the ring of the Patriarch of ‘The Black Gates’ sect had had.

  There seemed to be over three thousand square feet of empty space that he could fill with anything.

  “How is this possible?” Hadjar breathed out. “You’ve just created a spatial artifact in just a couple of minutes!”

  “Artifact?” Master Billom smiled a little arrogantly. “It’s a simple toy, nothing more. If you ever become strong enough for me to make you a real artifact, feel free to come back, young man. However, I usually need a little more time to make real artifacts.”

  “It took Master Billom about a year to make my armor and hammer.”

  Hadjar looked at Dora. How much did her armor and weapons cost? Was it even possible to measure their value in money?

  “Thank you for your time, Master Billom.” Dora bowed.

  Her friends followed suit.

  They went outside. Hadjar suddenly realized that even such a simple artifact was worth a small fortune while toying with the ring on his finger. Despite what Master Billom had thought of it, he was sure that he could get enough money to buy himself an imperial barony if he sold it.

  Hadjar once again realized that no matter how far he went, new horizons would always open up before him. This realization made him feel excitement rather than fear.

  Hadjar Darkhan would walk his path with his head held high.

  Chapter 492

  It was a short walk from Billom’s shop to the Whispering Water lily District. Refusing to use public transport, which consisted of a thirty-two-legged, sausage-like creature with about sixty saddles on its back, the trio simply took a walk through the city.

  During their stroll, Dora never stopped chatting, going on about stately palaces hidden behind high fences and protected by unfriendly guards. It turned out that ‘The Holy Sky’ School was located in the most elite district of the capital. They saw monuments to ancient heroes standing in quite small (by Dahanatan standards) squares. They passed a fountain complex of amazing beauty that calmed their minds and souls. It was no wonder that dozens of cultivators sat in lotus positions under its waters, ranging from disciples of different schools to cultivators at the peak stage of the Spirit Knight level.

  Being the heiress of one of the seven largest Houses, Dora had something to say about each place they walked past. She sometimes limited herself to just a few words, but more often than not, she would go on a tangent.

  “I’ll take you to see the Imperial Palace someday.”

  Hadjar and Einen choked on air. They’d never imagined that they would one day live in Dahanatan, let alone get to visit the Palace of the most important and powerful man in the Darnassus Empire.

  “Don’t act so surprised.” Dora laughed. “It’s not like we’ll get an audience with his Imperial Majesty. Any noble can freely go in and out of the Palace. It’s as big as a city of the border kingdoms! Without a constant stream of visitors, it’d be very empty.”

  “Is it true that each of the seven clans has its own room there?”

  “Yes.” Dora nodded. “Moreover, most of the important representatives of our clans live there with their families on a permanent basis. And so do hundreds of other noble families. Who knows when the Imperator will call on them? It’s easier that way.”

  Hadjar guessed that the closer the clan was to the Emperor, the better the lives of its members were. Of course, he didn’t say that out loud, and after a couple of minutes, he stopped thinking about it. He’d never been interested in court intrigue. He had a goal, and a sword he could use to fight his way to it. Nothing else mattered to Hadjar Darkhan. Not silk, or gold, not even palaces.

  It was late in the afternoon when they finally reached the Whispering Water lily District. According to Dora, they’d gone from one district to another. The capital of Darnassus was truly enormous.

  The architecture in this area was different. Multistory buildings gave way to numerous yards, restaurants, expensive taverns, inns, and various other entertainment buildings. Merry and tipsy people wandered the streets. Music flooded the air. Round lanterns cast an orange glow over everything. They flew freely through the air, unfettered, spreading a soft, muted light around them. It looked beautiful, frightening, and intoxicating all at once. In such an area, with all the innumerable pleasures of the flesh and mind on offer, a person could easily lose themselves, and for any mortal, that meant losing their soul.

  Dora took them to a restaurant located in the heart of the district. It had a yard big enough to fit an ordinary Lidish city in, a log fence surrounding it, and a stone sign that read ‘Heaven’s Pond’ hung above the entrance.

  In the middle of its lush, well-kept garden was a round, three-story building, and voices could be heard coming from within. The noise of relaxing, joyous cultivators was unmistakable. There were several guards at the entrance. At first, Hadjar couldn’t believe that mid-stage Spirit Knights would ever work as simple guards, but they apparently did. They asked for an Imperial seal, something which all landed nobles had, from everyone who wanted to go inside. In other words, commoners couldn’t enter the restaurant.

  Dora didn’t slow down as she approached the guards.

  “Eldest heiress of the great Marnil clan.” One of the guards bowed. “We’re glad to welcome you to our restaurant once again.”

  “Thank you,” Dora said, nodding reservedly. Now she really looked like a princess. “I brought two friends with me. You’ll let them in.”

  She wasn’t asking, but giving an order. Nothing in her voice so much as hinted that the two guards had the slightest right to argue with her. Hadjar felt nothing but respect for this sixteen-year-old girl that carried herself with pride and authority befitting a queen.

  “But they’re commoners-”

  The other guard, the one who’d greeted Dora, didn’t let his colleague finish speaking. Stomping hard on the other guard’s foot, he bowed again and moved away from the entrance.

  “Any friends of the eldest heiress of the great Marnil clan are honored guests of the ‘Heaven’s Pond’ restaurant.”

  The second Spirit Knight frowned, but also bowed and stepped aside.

  Dora walked inside with a stately gait, her impressive hammer, which was still sheathed on her back, only adding to her dignified entrance. Hadjar couldn’t resist winking at the disgruntled guard as he walked past him. The Knight reached for the hilt of his blade, hissing out ‘pitiful worm’ as he did so, but restrained himself.

  As he walked through the garden, Hadjar felt a hateful look trying to scorch his back. Only Lords could feel more or less at ease in the Empire. Such cultivators immediately received a title and were considered nobility. The lesser cultivators, including those two guards, in spite of their enormous (by the standards of the outskirts of the country) power, were still only ‘worms’, just like Hadjar and Einen.

  The trio walked along a stone-paved path to the restaurant building. Located on a wide island, it was surrounded on all sides by waters full of colorful fish.

  “This is amazing,” Einen said.

  Hadjar silently agreed with his friend. The place really ignited one’s imagination; it could’ve been depicted on any picture or tapestry.

  Walking over a bridge made of rare wood, they found themselves in front of an arch. There were no doors inside the restaurant. A young m
an and woman met them at the entrance. Both were practitioners at the Formation level. In the outlying countries, they could’ve been senior officers in any army, but here they were merely invisible servants.

  “Eldest heiress.” They bowed.

  “Good afternoon,” Dora greeted them politely, but no more. “We’d like a room on the third floor, please.”

  “Of course, eldest heiress. Please, follow us.”

  The waiters led the trio inside. The restaurant looked rather ordinary, save for its size. The first and cheapest floor contained about a thousand visitors. There were also flowers growing from the walls, and low trees, the tops of which were connected by ladders and always rustling because of the copious amounts of water flowing down on them.

  Tables had been placed on various ponds covered with glass. There were a variety of fish in the aquariums built into the walls, including a few unique species. The cooks would catch and take them to the kitchen from time to time. There were also a lot of small fountains. The place was truly magical.

  The first floor was intended for unruly groups of friends and noisy celebrations. On the second, more expensive floor, various nobles sat at impressive tables. Dressed in expensive clothes, they flaunted their weapons and other artifacts, some of which were at the Imperial level, which was impressive even if they were of poor quality and not as potent as artifacts from Master Billom’s shop, for example. The third floor, where the waiters led the trio, was a long corridor with many sliding doors.

  “Welcome.” The waitress parted the doors in front of them, ushering them into a spacious room. “The menus are already on the table. As soon as you’re ready to order, ring the bell and we’ll come immediately.”

  “We beg your pardon, eldest heiress.” The young man bowed as low as possible. “There are a lot of customers on the third floor today, so it’ll take at least a quarter of an hour to prepare any hot dishes.”

  “That’s okay.” Dora nodded.

  Einen and Hadjar didn’t. They were just her guests here, after all.

  “My new enemy! I’m glad to see you again.”

  Hadjar turned at the loud cry. He didn’t immediately recognize the 6’5 and 220lb young man with golden hair who’d recently tried to kill him. Price Geran came out of one of the rooms on the third floor.

  Chapter 493

  “Eldest heiress of House Marnil.” Price immediately bowed when he saw the elf girl. Dora seemed to be rather famous among the aristocrats. “It’s good to see you as well.”

  “Sorry, I forgot where we met.”

  The waiters, realizing that something was about to happen, disappeared. Hadjar was sure that they were watching the corridor and were ready to call the guards. Dora, though her tone remained neutral, rested a hand on her hammer’s handle. The fact he’d used the word ‘enemy’ didn’t seem to sit well with her.

  “It was at one of His Imperial Majesty’s receptions.” Price managed to bow gallantly despite his massive build. “I’m Price Geran, one of the sons of the Geran clan. We weren’t formally introduced, but I saw you from afar.”

  Since he was familiar with the ways of the nobility, Hadjar knew that ‘one of the sons’ meant that Price belonged to the main family of the clan and had the right to carry the clan name, but didn’t have the right to one day lead it. Nevertheless, he was considered a proper noble and was included in their ‘inner’ circles.

  “I hope you won’t try to ruin our evening, Price Geran,” Dora said in an unusual, rather official tone. “Whatever issues you may have with one of my companions, I’m sure it can wait.”

  “Of course.” Price Geran grinned. “I assure you, I have nothing but respect for Hadjar and I hope that we’ll be able to find out which one of us is stronger in a fair fight one day!”

  When Dora heard this, she relaxed and removed her hand from her hammer’s handle.

  “That’s good...” She looked behind Price. “I see you came alone. Would you like to join us?”

  “I’d be honored.” Price saluted.

  Neither Einen nor Hadjar objected. They, like Price, felt nothing but respect for their enemy. Coming across a worthy foe in the world of martial arts was as rare as finding a loyal friend. The four of them sat down at a round table and immediately began to get acquainted.

  “If my enemy is close to House Marnil, then beating him will bring me even more honor and glory!”

  Price emptied a huge mug of strong alcohol, which the waiters had brought them almost immediately, in one gulp. Hadjar, after sniffing the drink, decided that he could probably drink more than two mugs. All cultivators had one problem — they couldn’t get drunk easily. The stronger the cultivator, the more difficult it was to influence their body. So, alcohol was made for them by alchemists, and that was one of their biggest sources of income. Potions and pills were, of course, very expensive, but not in high demand, while special alcohol could be sold in unlimited quantities.

  “Why are you so sure that you’d win?” Hadjar thundered, half of his first mug already sloshing around in his stomach. “When I beat you, Price, they’ll write songs about it!”

  “They’ll compose an epic about my victory over you, Hadjar, one that will be sung to all children!”

  “Ha! Don’t count on it.”

  “I don’t know what happens in your dreams, my nemesis, but in mine, I am caressed by virgins!”

  “Who needs virgins? They can’t do anything! They don’t know how!”

  “You know nothing, barbarian!”

  “I know a lot more than you, you effeminate aristocrat!”

  “I’m an effeminate aristocrat? Give me your hand!”

  Price put his elbow up on the table and opened his bearlike palm. Hadjar, wiping his lips and slamming his mug down on the table, assumed the same position.

  “One, two, three!” They shouted and began trying to overcome each other.

  Einen and Dora, who hadn’t drunk anything yet, looked at the scene with a half-smile, noticing the similarities between the two. Both Price and Hadjar had such deep respect for each other that it was unlikely, despite their bluster, that the battle between them would end in either of them dying. Instead, it would become an honest rivalry that would then grow into a strong friendship.

  “Your friend has an amazing knack for making friends with nobles,” Dora whispered.

  The elf girl and the islander sat in front of a window that looked out on the inner courtyard. They sipped grape juice and chatted, watching the customers. It seemed like the couple were talking about everything and nothing.

  “A little more!” Price grunted.

  “The loser has to finish his drink!” Hadjar replied, flushed from exertion.

  They’d gotten drunk in less than ten minutes and were now arm wrestling for the fifth time in a row. Their duels had ended in a draw every time and they’d both taken a large gulp from their mugs as a compromise.

  Einen sighed. He was sure that he’d end up having to carry Hadjar back to ‘The Holy Sky’ School. His friend didn’t know how to drink.

  “Makes sense.” Einen shrugged. “Back in his homeland, Hadjar was a Prince.”

  “A Prince?” Dora looked at the red-faced barbarian again.

  She knew that the border kingdoms had their own ruling families. However, in the Empire, they were treated more like the families of village chiefs — with contempt. And yet, after growing up in luxury, by the standards of his country anyway, a Prince should’ve behaved differently. Take the Emperor’s eldest son, whom the ruler was extremely displeased with, for example. He’d been pampered and spoiled, resulting in him being a worthless scumbag, unlike his younger brothers and sisters. The day that monster became Emperor would be a tragic day for Darnassus, may the forefathers forgive her for insulting the Emperor’s family.

  “His fate was a difficult one, senior disciple, and I don’t think it’s my place to tell you about it.”

  Dora looked at the laughing Hadjar again. He and Price took a swig of booze
and started arguing once more. This time, their discussion centered on the Way of the Sword Spirit. However, she was sure that even this would somehow end up starting another fight.

  “Can you tell me about your fate, then?”

  Einen looked at the girl. Turning back to the window, he acted like he hadn’t understood her question.

  “My fate is unknown to me, senior disciple, and I hope it stays a mystery. To live with knowledge of one’s future is worse than torture.”

  Dora turned away from Hadjar and Price, who’d started fighting again.

  “I agree.” She said a little sadly. “The future is... But what about the past? What about your past, Einen?”

  His father’s face appeared in Einen’s thoughts for a moment. Had he known that he would never see his son again? Not because Einen hadn’t been planning to return home. His home didn’t exist anymore. The morning after they’d sacked the merchant fleet, they’d been overtaken by the Island Nation’s armada. Only Einen had survived, because his father, a narcissistic, dishonest pirate, a man who’d spent his entire life plundering and selling slaves, had given his life to save him.

  “I’m a simple traveler, senior disciple,” Einen finally replied. “I’m only looking for new encounters and horizons.”

  Dora was about to say something but there was a knock at the door.

  “Come in!” The elf girl replied.

  “Main course.”

  Looking at the various dishes that appeared on their table, none of the friends noticed that a duo no one wanted to see right now, or ever again, was coming up the stairs. The mere appearance of Tom and Anise Dinos from the Predatory Blades clan brought an unnerving atmosphere into the restaurant. Their clan had a rather dark reputation. Many were afraid to even breathe in their presence.

 

‹ Prev