Chapter 7 (Patreon)

Chapter 7

* * *

The journey that followed was filled with danger, ambushes, battles, and adventures, as a true Hero's journey should be... in my mind the subject. For, in reality, the only creatures that longed for my ignominious death were the same vile creatures called horses. The journey was so boring that I did not fall asleep solely because of my paranoia and the same horses, who were squinting at me with their eyes, clearly thinking about how they would eat my raw and bleeding liver.

Otherwise, the next two days passed without incident, even though I had expected otherwise. But either our covering of tracks was effective enough, or they did not look for us as such, but the result was evident - or rather its absence. The clairvoyance did not sense any interest aimed specifically at us, although the attention of the "mysterious killers" was given. I have no idea whose intelligence they took us for, but the important thing is that they did not follow us. I tried to use clairvoyance to watch the actions of the humans and non-humans who had arrived at the battlefield, but it was not entirely ineffective.

A few times I managed to get a vision of people cleaning up the camp, as well as a couple of conflicts over trophy-sharing. The elves, on the other hand, were clearly using something against the watchers, which made it hard for me to detect their presence alone. I had to deduce their actions from circumstantial evidence, based on the information the clairvoyants gave me. Not the easiest thing to do, providing me with a severe migraine almost continuously, but no more than that.

That's how I found out that the Eared Ones took my remark about caring for freed slaves very seriously. Either they were being noble, which I don't believe in at all, or they were fulfilling the "terms of the deal" I had negotiated with the little brat. At any rate, it was their initiative that prevented the prisoners from being stripped bare, just as it prevented them from being sold secretly to other slave traders. The others, by the way, were denying any connection with the camp we had cut out, and selling each other out at a breathtaking rate. I knew in advance that it wouldn't do them much good - those who were not demonstrably sued would be killed by their rivals or the elves.

There were several attempts to restore the erased memories to the former slaves, but they were unsuccessful, though one of them was nearly killed by some mentalist. After that, the Eared Ones politely asked that the number of rescued slaves not be reduced until they arrived in the city. Yeah, I told them to escort them to town, and then they could slaughter them. But I doubt there's anyone who can break my barrier - I've mopped up the memories to a shine. There's nothing left to recover... ...if you don't bring in some exotic class. I don't know about that, but I suspect that even my imba will be countered by another imba, and it'll be cooler and more tricky. The elf was not allowed to be interrogated, despite all the requests and assurances of the safety of normal interrogation. I don't know if the Eared Ones had shared the details of the healing ritual, but he would have nothing to say about us - because he'd seen almost nothing, and what he'd seen I'd been far more careful to wipe out than I'd been to the slaves.

Finally, when I realized that no bastard had been sent after us, I knew I could stop torturing myself and go back to normal. No, I would still check the course of events, but not every few hours, giving myself a headache and a desperate desire to open my skull and shovel out the clogged debris - the clairvoyance had not cheated itself, giving away a mountain of junk for every useful piece of information.

Ah yes! Once I was able to see the whole camp from above as if captured by a flying drone. Lots of soldiers running around, a huge funeral pyre so as not to leave a burial ground in the swamp that could turn into a breeding ground for the undead, wagons loaded with slave-traders possessions, and all that. And then there was the lone figure standing in the distance, not interfering with the orderly chaos going on. And the moment I turned my attention to that figure, it flinched and looked up, as if sensing my gaze.

This elf inspired more respect for his race than the average brat - but I didn't get a good look at him, and I didn't want to. I was sure he couldn't see me: his attempt to activate his clairvoyant counterpart had been detected by me and neatly sidetracked by my unexistence skill, without letting him realize that his search had been deliberately misdirected. But I shouldn't tease him just like that, for he was simply unsure of his senses now, and could write off the sudden feeling of looking to the ritualist's house next to him, where it still had too much of a Shadow background. But if I delayed, I would arouse reasonable suspicion, and at the same time give him information that someone who was watching him possessed clairvoyance at a high level.

Do I need it?

Definitely, I don't need it.

For the rest of the day, I focused my attention solely on people, not hurrying back to the Eared Ones for no good reason. However, the humans were still as human as ever. At least, because there had been three dueling over trophies (naturally, arranged to look like decent human beings, not looters), two of which had ended in death. Greed is more reliable than steel, as I've noticed more than once.

Another break, during which I again had to dodge a well-aimed hoof poke in the forehead, meant that I knew clearly - that was it. The team had recovered from the battle and the excitement of it and was ready to share their accomplishments. Moreover, Taria was bursting with the desire to show herself off and brag about how cool she was. I didn't make a big deal out of it, just sat down on the lined horse blanket and said:

"Show off!"

The morons somehow managed to determine the order of precedence without words, giving the right to speak to the highest-ranked one, i.e. Locij. He had the least to say because he didn't take a new class, only raised his level, and earned a couple of titles. This is in his own words.

Reached level thirtieth. Two titles - Combat Unity and We Were Few. Unity increases dexterity and perception by five, making it easier to interact in team battles, literally feeling the moment of the most successful interaction with allies. The second title is legendary, plus five to all stats and a free class point. Given, apparently, for defeating a superior enemy with the help of a small number of allies.

He tried to speak as calmly and impassively as possible, but I could sense his pride. It wasn't just standing on the sidelines while someone else did all the work. Now he had won the title himself, really himself, by his toil and blade. For a young and ambitious lad, it was a good reason to be proud.

"I have the same titles, and I suppose Hans does, too." Taria jumped in, not wanting to keep up with the Duelist she disliked. "It's like the title you showed us, only weaker because we weren't alone, we were in a group!"

"Uh-huh. They gave me those two, too." Happy as if he were in a royal wine cellar, says the tracker. "That's not what's bothering me. What the hell am I supposed to pick for second class?"

"And for me for the first one! And there are so many options!"

"Taria, calm down!" I can't stand it. "Everyone here knows perfectly well that you're the best of the best and you're cute in general, but don't interrupt people, it's not nice, it's not polite and it's uncivilized. And before you brush these arguments aside, I'll also add the fact that it pisses me off!"

There was a second of silence, after which I immediately calmed down and even found the rest of my tact to apologize to the offended girl - her tactlessness was far from serious enough to react that way.

"I'm sorry, my head hurts too much." Tiredly explaining my position. "I had to keep track of what was going on in the camp, so I couldn't get a good night's sleep or a good night's rest. I'm sorry again, but you can be a bit quieter."

"It's okay." She realized that I wasn't angry, and took on a carefree look again.

"It was okay with me, too." Hans didn't notice any problems at all, for in his life his commanders didn't yell and swear, but talked in foul language regularly.

"I see no reason to quarrel here." The aristocrat was, as always, high-spirited, but quite calm. "So much pressure? Is it some sort of sensory skill? If so, it has an amazing range."

"Yeah, but it works very selectively and intermittently." This is where I cut the explanation short. "Let's get back to the classes. Hans, you go first."

Instead of answering, he silently sends us all a copy of the system message, which lists the classes given to him. Six choices are quite a lot, especially when you consider the classes themselves.

Congenital Adventurer (epic)

Magical Shooter (epic)

Master Jaeger (epic)

Forest Shadow (epic)

Walker of the Trail (epic)

Sniper (rare)

"Holy shit!" Taria couldn't keep her mouth shut, ignoring the judgmental stare from Losius, who was barely used to Hans' way of speaking, but who was sickened by the scolding from the pretty girl's mouth. "Five epic ones at once! I've only heard of these before!"

I, on the other hand, pay no attention to the team's negotiations with each other, trying to understand as deeply as possible the possibilities the classes offer. Even if there is a little clarification here, it is far from being detailed. The headache, of course, will be brutal, but this is fixable.

"Two purely shooting classes at once, although you don't like bows," Losius remarks, staring blankly ahead of him, concentrating entirely on the text. "And they both have very nice skills. And while the Sniper's more for someone who wants to make a living as an assassin or a member of the secret watch, the Magical Shooter is interesting. What do you think about that?"

I don't know about the shooter, I've never heard of them before, and taking a sniper would be a shitty decision compared to the others. I've seen these fuckers, but they weren't very impressive, yeah. Hit, bitches, very far and accurately, but in close combat, our squad leader could cut them, and he was a simple soldier, the most ordinary grade. So, no, shooters aren't mine.

Hans's refusal to become our long-range artillery is very unpleasant - after all, there are no good archers among us, except for the old warrior. But when you think about it, we don't really need archers. A healer would be much more useful, especially a normal healer, not what I have instead of healing abilities.

"Forest Shadow, if my memory serves me correctly, is originally considered an elven class. I can't judge without access to the family library, but in my opinion, this class is a pretty rattling mix of standard archer, ranger, and assassin. It's logical to assume that this class is only fully revealed in the woods."

"Then fuck it off." The pathfinder shrugs it off. "We don't just go through the woods, we can get into trouble in other places, too. And I fucking hate elves, too."

"What do you want, Hans? Always no, no, no?" Sourly asks Taria, who has fallen out of the discussion and is not the least bit pleased by the silence. "Epic classes are power. And you're being picky."

"Oh, who'd be yakking to me about being mean, wench." The man only waved her off angrily. "I would have chosen the master or the walker as the best for me. I've been a trailblazer all my life, and I loved it. I don't see any damn reason why I shouldn't strengthen that class with a second. Tytergic, as you smartasses say!"

"Synergistic." My inner grammar-nazi corrects him, and then I ask. "Can you say something about the classes themselves?"

"Our centurion, who was in charge of all the reconnaissance, was a Master Jaeger. So I'll tell you frankly - the forest was not just his home, but his personal bitch, spreading her legs at the first flick. And in combat, he was just as good as any other fighter. Too bad he got called back to the Capital just as he was getting his epic class, but that's what the pussies in the tuxedo division always did. Whenever someone jumped over his head, he'd get a transfer so he wouldn't stand out."

It was also a lingering wound - Hans had fought and buried his acquaintances quite often. He had never (before our meeting) gone up against any really dangerous creatures, but there were regular skirmishes was regular, as punny as that sounds. So he could feel the difference between having a strong fighter in his squad and not having one.

"For the last two, I will say, if I may." My "modesty" caused only a chuckle from all three of them at once. Not a bit of respect for my person and my pathos. In retaliation, I start to deliberately stall, increasing interest, which I achieve... not an apology, but an attempt to tickle me by an angry girl.

"Okay, okay, calm down, beauty, I'll tell you everything." While this unscrupulous manipulator came to her senses from the "beauty," I changed my position and finally talked about what the clairvoyant had told me. "So, guys and gals, the only thing I can say about the Adventurer is that he's very average. Class pluses allow you to accelerate the learning of various combat and not-so-skills. Master on the fly does not become, but to master, the basics will come out literally a couple of days of intensive training. There are all sorts of abilities, but they're all too different to stick to one theme. This class will allow you to be both a warrior, and stealth, and a mage, and at quite a serious level, but against the really powerful owner of the epic class you will be better not to go out. I bet that the class was specifically created for a loner with a bias toward finding all sorts of trophies and treasures. The same old grave digging that you were doing before we met, only you'll be able to do it almost single-handedly."

Once I've given this information, I shut up and wait for Hans to respond. The latter is silent, obviously going over the options in his mind - I can physically feel how much he likes this option. Maximum independence and survivability, the ability to avoid or fight most of the possible threats in his life. Before we met, he would have chosen this option without a second thought, but now he was far from alone, making this class from a treasure to a liability.

"Yeah, it's about time." The man, disappointed in world justice replied. "What about the Walker?"

"Pathfinder on steroids. I could not understand exactly, but it is again a mix of different roles: the one who can follow the trail of the beast and kill it afterward. The synergy with your class would be even higher than that of a Master's. But there are enough of his intricacies. Alas, I can't say more than that. If you need to, then let me rest for a while, and I'll try to see, but I'm not sure about the result."

"Don't fucking do it, I've already made up my mind. - After this phrase his status blinked, and in front of my heroic gaze sat not a tracker, but a Level twenty-seven Walker."

"Well? What is it?" Taria looks like she's going to jump out of her dress from curiosity.

Apparently, Hans thought of something like that too, and decided not to go so far as to use heavy weapons, but started to satisfy someone's unquenchable curiosity.

"So... The imperceptibility, silent step, and views diversion skills have been removed and merged into the stealth skill. Increased dexterity and perception characteristics while stalking the enemy or any other movement on the trail. So, more class skills... wow, nyahhhh! I'll just flip this piece over, just figuring out where it is... aha! Here you go."

Another system window opened in front of me, describing the details of the class mechanics of the Walker of the Trail class. After reading it, I realize that the class is quite interesting and promising, though far from ideal. Although, for me, even a mythical class wouldn't be perfect without the obligatory "overpower them all" button.

Class: Walker of the Trail

Rank: 1

Basic characteristics: echo, perception, dexterity

Abilities:

Backlighting of the trail: 1/5

Allows you to find the impressions left behind, identifying among them the ones you need; with maximum concentration, you can hear echoes, which will tell you what you can't see with standard tracker skills.

Trail Search: 0/5

[undisclosed]

Bonuses:

Walker: Tracking skills grow twice as fast; increase in dexterity and perception characteristics while chasing or following a trail.

Slipping from view: the standard hiding branch skills merge into a single stealth skill.

[undisclosed]

It's not bad, especially the unlocking of stealth as a grindable skill - I've already seen how much better this skill is than standard gaze aversion or inconspicuousness. I've already seen how much better this skill is than standard gaze aversion or stealth. I suppose the shadows helped me, too, but it was a disappointing difference.

But the abilities and the strange unique characteristic - Echo, look too obscure. From what I've read, the highlighting is designed to mark what the standard pathfinder search will not show, but how much more it will give - an open question. Here only an empirical way will help, without guessing on coffee grounds.

"Yes... That's cool, it's not fucking understandable, but it's cool!" Taria didn't quite get it either, which she was not ashamed to delicately tell the audience.

Looking at my face, intensely thinking, and at Losius' face, aloof and incomprehensible, Hans only spat on our incompetence and began to explain as for blondes.

"You guys don't know shit about reading footprints! The point here is that as a tracker I can spot things that are left behind by someone else's actions. All trailblazers do that. Grass, there, crumpled up, bark wiped off, ground squeezed and all that crap, you know? If someone can walk properly, they leave fewer traces, and if they also know how to read them, they can erase what they've left, and trick the tracker. Half of my work as a border guard was in such tricks from smugglers and thugs. A lot of people can read footprints, it's one of their basic fucking skills. But trailblazers can work tracks and trails like bitch painters with paint. You know?"

We nod silently, all three of us, and I sincerely regret that Ygra is not there - if he tried to explain something to her, then I would be happy, and the inner troll would have a good meal. I took my mind off the jokes and the insidious plans, but the explanations were understandable, though a bit harsh in Losius's opinion.

"And the new class allows you not only to notice what is left after other people's hands and feet but also to see what is already hidden! That is, where before I had to sniff the ground for hours, here is enough one use of the skill! It's just, it's just, it's just, it's so ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

Now it's clear, not like before! Actually, the gimmick is quite interesting, even if it's far from combat. On the other hand, we have me, Losius, and Ygra for combat, but a tracker would be nice. I'm a sensor who can play the role of a lousy tracker, and Hans' new skills are from a completely different league.

Besides, I am sure that this is only the tip of the iceberg, and the class itself will be revealed from the other side, just as my own has been revealed. Of course, an epic class is far from mythical, but it's not insignificant either. The main thing is for us all to live to see such hidden capabilities.

After the obligatory congratulations and a pat on the shoulder from all of us, Hans gave way on stage to the enigmatically smirking Taria, who was clearly very pleased with her accomplishments. Instead of a thousand questions, she immediately tossed us the class options available to her, eliciting a delighted whistle from Hans, a respectful nod from Losius, and a twitching look from me.

Hypnotic Domina (epic)

Blade Dancer (rare)

Poisoness (rare)

Assassin (rare)

Artist (unusual)

Assassin (common)

Thief (common)

Obviously, I was very happy to be able to give Taria an epic class at level ten. It's an indicator of real power, a bid for legendary heroes (or even Heroes), and just a useful class. No kidding, any epic class is considered cool compared to a rare class. Yes, rare classes can be stronger than epic ones in some ways, but then the epic class must be highly specialized, like the one the System gave to Taria.

"What kind of faces you guys have! " The creeper laughed loudly. "You know, I really like that option, just the human way. But, luckily, I still have a rudimentary brain in my head. So..."

At that moment, her class was changed... She was changed to Blade Dancer, and Taria began to frantically read the class description, trying to prove to herself that she hadn't done anything stupid. I appreciated her action, by the way, and I appreciated it very much!

The class she ignored not only touched every hidden chord in the gangster's soul, embodying the dreams and wishes she fantasized about at night but was also very profitable in its own right. In fact, Domina's class offered to her was a very exotic version of a Slavemancer, sharpened to very slow but almost irreversible and unnoticeable brainwashing for everyone (including the victim). With such a class, settling into life would be as easy as drinking a mug of beer.

A perfect class for Taria, given all her proclivities and existing skills. Completely unnecessary for our group: her only superiority lies in her gifted skill. In terms of mind-work, my Dreams will be far more subtle and inconspicuous than anything a "simple" epic can offer. And she has just voluntarily given up her dreams (however dirty, twisted, and lustful) for the sake of the team and, in fact, me.

Yes, it is only the result of the ring's action, but the mere fact that she came to this conclusion herself, made it herself, and accepted its necessity, is a very profound act. Especially if you have clairvoyance in your disposition, which can convey the whole range of feelings and regrets experienced by the young dancer.

While the men look at each other perplexed, not having penetrated into the depth of the situation, I silently look her straight in the eyes, and then say a single phrase:

"I appreciated it."

Instead of an answer, I was given the sad and slightly bitter smile of someone who had made her first conscious sacrifice for someone other than herself. No thunderstruck, no pompous system messages popped up, and no new title was given to us, but the very fact of her deed was imprinted on my memory. For this world, to give up a beloved and coveted class for the sake of being able to support one's comrades is an extremely high measure of trust.

"Thank you for appreciating it." Just said the girl, as if nothing had happened. "I wanted to choose the Poisoness at first, but then I'd be just as ballast as in... the other option, only with no benefits at all. And I always wanted to learn how to dance, especially as a child, when I hadn't sensed life yet."

"I don't get it, is there a story going on here?" Hans, of course, has a good intuition and sense of tact, but only in comparison with other soldiers. "Ouch! I got it, I got it, I'll shut up like a fish!"

But Losius did appreciate the impulse of a soul not too pure, quickly and, it seems, habitually "hinted" to Hans about his tactlessness with a slap.

"No stories, just my girl stuff." Taria is clearly not in the mood for discussions and long, tearful conversations with the obligatory digging up of the past. "You'd better look at my new class. Now, now, here, and here, yes."

Class: Blade Dancer

Rank: 1

Basic characteristics: charm, dexterity, perception

Abilities:

Mirage: 1/4

Allows you to leave a blurry and fuzzy residual image after your movements; at the limit of concentration, allows you to create a fuzzy mirage of an entire silhouette moving separately from your body.

Light Steps: 0/4

[undisclosed]

Bonuses:

Dancer: dance, artistry, and acting skills grow twice as fast; a dancer's movements attract attention, reducing the concentration of spectators and opponents.

Grace: coordination of movements is improved; flexibility of the body is increased.

[undisclosed]

"An unusual class. I can say with certainty that it belongs to those "rare" that are as rare as other "epic" classes." The aristocrat was the first to comment on the information. "I have not encountered descriptions of such classes. Usually, dancers are either considered a limited combat class, like hunters, or not a combat class at all. I can see some great attributes, both for a spy and an assassin. And the abilities are also very interesting. Light footsteps... that's the name of one of the most beloved skills of all kinds of spies, allowing you to leave no trace on the ground and easier maneuver in combat. I think Hans will say more."

Hans did not disappoint, giving quite a decent lecture about all the same spies and their favorite methods of work. He also recalled that he had once met a drunken veteran who claimed to have seen a woman of a similar class in battle, but he managed to get too vague a description. Supposedly Taria would be quite good at one-on-one combat, and she'd make a pretty good lurker, just too flimsy.

The variation and combat power are extremely high for a rare class, which makes you believe what Losius said about it being more of an under-epic than a rarity. I can't say that these words have reconciled Taria to the loss of her coveted class, but they do make the pill a little sweeter.

"All right, I suggest we eat and go to bed. Tomorrow we hit the road again." I yawned long and infectiously, ignoring the duelist's disapproval, and then continued. "In a couple of days, we'll start training again, because you need to work on your new classes, and I need to practice creating dreams."

My words were met with a synchronized groan, the level of anguish equal to a third of what I felt when I mounted the four-legged scum that was pretending to be a transport vehicle. My mood immediately started creeping upward.

The road was rather too quiet, even though we tried to take the least crowded route. Returning from her "long hook" Ygra easily turned a few monsters in our path in a set of nibbled and chewed bones (which did not prevent her from begging me for my cooking), a few caravans encountered were not going to be attacked by robbers, and the only gang we caught up to four thugs, none of whom do have even ten levels, and quite cynically refused to attack us. Had to nail it myself. They didn't touch the strongest units that could give them a beating, but they killed easily.

The corpses were not buried. Peacefully we continued onward. Hans wanted to hang them by the roadside as a warning to their fellows, but I persuaded him not to waste the rope, which was not free either. We met some of the usual solitary travelers, some we even exchanged a few words with, but nothing more than that. One of them turned out to be an informant for another gang (rather a simple band of over-initiative peasants who liked to rob passersby) who had spotted a not-so-numerous group.

He was not allowed to be friends with us, but he saw an awesome striptease performed by Taria and received orders to go to the very village and slaughter first the boss of those high-road romantics, and then the thugs he could reach. Hans approved, chuckling wickedly through the evening and even a little in the morning. We did not go into that village, just in case.

We passed by many settlements, where we managed both to buy provisions (they never tried to poison me, but they regularly tried to slip me some crap) and to have a normal rest. By the way, I can be proud of the fact that I learned to remove bedbugs from ancient mattresses (ninety percent dust and the remaining ten from these very bedbugs) through virtuoso control of shadows. A sublime art for a chosen few? Don't make my slippers laugh!

We even visited a couple of towns where I was careful not to look for cults, underground demonologists, buried treasure, and treacherous rebels. Successfully. I mean, I didn't find any, limiting myself to the usual program for such places: a stroll, a tavern, an inn. I would have liked to go to a brothel, taking the example of the guys, but I had to clench my teeth and sit down for alchemy - the road did not have time to create potions, but was able to collect all the nearest reagents to me (and, fortunately, to do it while running around on foot, not on horseback!). I had to cook so they wouldn't spoil.

However, I did not get more masterpieces like the ones made with Bigfoot blood, but I reproduced the "standard set of alchemy masters" several times, and then as many more to be sure. I could not do without all sorts of exotics, and since there were a lot of collected ingredients, including very rare ones, or ones I had never seen before, I had a lot of exotics and some more.

The special powder that turns the ass and rectum into an incredibly sensitive erogenous zone I carefully placed on the ground and poured in enough shadow energy to kill a couple of hundred orcs. I don't even want to imagine the feeling of the one who would have gotten this treasure when I walked into the nearest latrine.

There were all sorts of poisons of varying strength and exoticism, a potion that permanently gives a high tenor to the drinker, a pill from greed (the System signed it that way), a tincture that increases the skill of a woodcutter to master level for two hours (made from the bones of a skeleton pressed by a tree, apparently, a woodcutter), an elixir, The elixir that gives night vision for good at the cost of reducing perception by a third of stats by day, the black powder that gives a high, next to which ordinary drugs seem to be useless shit, but in return, it takes a couple of years of life and makes you completely immune to other drugs (addiction, by the way, does not cure). .. I could go on for a very, very long time, but I wasn't bored.

Although Taria, who came into my room one day, dressed only in bandages wrapped around her chest, appreciated my inspired creative ecstasy with an extremely intricate phrase consisting of at least nine stages. After that, she stole a bottle of liquor from me (Hans had brought it, as he said, "to try it out") and went to seduce two local maids. She did, for she had already met them completely naked, but she was unaware that I had already turned the liquor into a potion to cure... No, not constipation, but a cough. But the side effect of taking half a bottle at once was a cure for constipation. It was a good thing that this effect did not work until the next morning.

The new phrase was twelve floors with a small annex, an attic, and a basement.

I did not forget about training with dreams, and the trainees themselves were not against it - no matter how exhausting my scenarios were, they were undoubtedly useful. When I was upgraded, my dreams became even more realistic, and most importantly, I learned how to create more or less good self-training matrices that could serve as training dummies. They were no good for Losius, but Taria and, with some reservations, Hans were able to benefit from them.

I practiced using dream energy in the real world, but I didn't make much progress, even though I learned a lot of interesting things. First of all, the power, which looked like a faint violet haze coming from my hands, could not normally affect the material world. I mean, it could, but it had to be dialed in a lot. Second, and this followed from the first point, the energy was accumulating, like strands of thread, wrapped around my hands. I couldn't gather much anyway, but what were my years!

What was more interesting was the third discovery - that in the interaction between the living organism and the power I had accumulated, I could affect them as if they were in a dream. Very weakly, with a lot of reservations, but still, but still. I could make them fear or rage or desire, I could put them to sleep or paralyze them. I could even show them a very credible illusion (thanks to one insolent drunk who had decided to pick my pockets and followed me into my room for it) of their greatest fear. I suppose I could have shown them something else, like a dead friend or a mountain of treasure, but there were no more volunteers.

The last, fourth, use of Soaring in Dreams that I discovered was, as is customary, the most useful of all. By pulling a dream into reality, I can use what I have accumulated as an amplifier to influence other people's dreams. I experimented, for fun, in a funny little village where they tried to fuckin' cheat us out of our money. Hans didn't appreciate it and counted the most insolent salesman's teeth, but I did but decided to do something much funnier.

There was a guy in that village, ordinary in every way, except that he was the only one who gave Hans a decent price for oats for the horses and corned beef for us. He didn't do it out of decency, but because of the trailblazer's very beastly face, he did it nonetheless. Well, I, remembering an Ostmark trader and her faithful helper, decided to thank the poor man, so that he would know the importance of good deeds.

Half the night I used Soaring, filling nearly the entire attic of the only tavern in the village with violet mist. I spent the rest of the night working the locals' brains out. I saw a lot of shit, by the way - about eight of them had been out on the road to rob, but they were not outlaws by virtue of their stable income of another nature. They didn't have any special sins, and nobody gave a shit about lonely travelers, so they didn't worry about their hides. They know their limits, and they always kill quickly, like God, so they don't have to suffer. They don't even spoil girls (because they don't get any), so they're almost saints.

It's funny, but the locals were really quite "decent" by Alurei's standards. After all, they didn't touch their own, and they lived in a very friendly community! They even had a small chapel, albeit without a priest or place of power!

My net, a veritable web of dreams and the influence I had formed, encompassed them all, shackling their minds tightly to the right paradigms. Nothing dangerous or scary, it's just that now, every woman and girl who falls within the definition of "at least pretty" will regularly suck the lucky salesman's dick.

Just like that.

At least twice a day (more is possible, but not less) a random chick will take the poor guy aside or around the nearest corner and give him a nice blowjob. The rest of the locals will not pay attention to this, even if they happen to catch this kind of shamelessness. The hero-lover himself will be the only one who is fully aware of what is happening, but he will not be able to refuse the demands of the beauties, period.

Then I got a bit overwhelmed, and, by some miracle, I was able to anchor the accumulated dream, in reality, making it an amplifier and a renewer of the effect. I estimated that it would last another couple of months, after which it would be impossible to smoke the new patterns of behavior out of the locals, even with hardened iron. Unless, of course, no one climbs into that attic. To be sure, I banned the villagers' dreams, just to be on the safe side. Even though they hadn't looked in here for at least six months.

For dessert, I provided the nightmares of murdered victims who came to visit them, and at the same time instilled in them law-abidingness up to their throats. If they were able to truly repent and ask forgiveness from their nightmares, not out of fear but out of conscience, then they would live. If they fail, their nightmares will drive them to their graves in a year at the most.

The trolling was successful, and Kostik is a good boy.

I'd made a private life for someone else again, though, and I was left hikking alone. And I couldn't even call Taria, too tired after my experiments with Dream, which made me lose all desire, even if I'd had it in the first place.

Surprisingly, the soldiers of one of the local barons who met us not only did not try to rob us but also quite politely answered our questions and recommended a good establishment in the nearest village. They would even invite Losius to visit Baron Farshmalzen himself, but we excused ourselves by saying that we were in too much of a hurry.

Whether it was Losius who played his part by frightening them with his aristocratism, or whether they were naturally so well-mannered, the impression was very pleasant. Though even Losius himself did not deny that if they all knew how much gold we were carrying in our bags, we would be hunted by the Baron and a couple of his neighbors, forgetting all about honor and nobility.

"They're all here... not very rich and not very noble. They'd do anything to get another piece of land and a pile of gold. He's certainly not the worst of the worst - he's equipped and trained men and the villages here are prospering rather than drowning in poverty. It's too close to the wilderness, and the people here are simple and not so intimidated. When we get into the backcountry, we can see what these rascals sometimes do to their land." Losius explained, clearly disapproving of such a wasteful attitude toward the domain.

It wasn't that he didn't care about people at all, by the way; he just treated them as valuable and useful tools. You don't want to ruin and wear an ax that can last for decades just for a few extra coins to sharpen the blade and polish the ax bar? That's what he thought, too.

It was only later that I had to admit that he was right - as we moved along the strip of wilderness, it was very desolate, with all sorts of monsters and other things wandering around, and not many people. Even the villages here looked more like sprawling hunting camps (which they were). It wasn't land that was tucked into the underbelly of uncharted territory, but it wasn't what I would call a crowded place.

Then we crossed into the settled area, where there was already a fair amount of trade, and even more people settled than in the usual territory. The laws were a little looser here, and regular encounters with monsters and green-skinned creatures that came into the area taught everyone to take up arms at a moment's notice. There were too many scums to count and too few guards and vigilantes, but the land was rich nonetheless. At least because they lived off hunting and buying up the spoils and ingredients that came from the Wildlands. They weren't as rich as the Bales, who dominated all smuggling in the fray, but they had enough to live on.

But deep inside the settled territories, but far from the center, it was a sadder place, the periphery. The coins of smuggling were no longer ringing through here, but civilization was still too far away. Power here belonged to all sorts of petty aristocrats, rewarded for their services. And they loved luxury, but they didn't give a damn about the peasants... most of them.

Anyway, even though they never tried to rob us - a couple of phrases from Losius, who could put anyone down with just a glance, and the name of his kind were enough - my desire to kill a couple of nobles off was also... hard to control. Fortunately, the poorest (and sparsely populated, which is what we were walking through it for) land we passed fairly quickly. Then everything was relatively decent compared to the f*ck I'd seen, so I quickly calmed down.

Here there were fewer barons. Mostly, there were either town under the crown, where the burgomaster appointed by the capital sat, or allotments of relatively rich and ancient families, who tried to "protect their tools" by not making a complete mess of things. There were exceptions, of course, and very severe ones, but they were all too ad hoc in nature.

I mean, no one stops a noble viscount from flogging a couple of peasants to death for daring to kick his hunting dog (omit the fact that it was chewing on someone's leg or arm or neck at the time), but that doesn't stop him from keeping his lands in relative order. Brutality and pragmatism make good managers, as long as they don't slip too much into idleness, dances, balls, and theaters, like the aristocracy of my world. Here, however, the final decay of the nobility has not yet reached the critical point that will be followed by revolution... and it will not because low-level peasants can only hope to make this revolution in their dreams. You can't go against the System - one soldier above the forty-fifth level is enough to suppress the workers' and peasants' army. It wouldn't even be necessary to call in Heroes, if you think about it, they can do it themselves.

That's how it went - in a leisurely procession, my swearing at the infernal creatures of four hooves, Hans' anecdotes, Tariоa's trolling, Losiо' stories, and the occasional "Y?" from Ygra. To tell you the truth, it was exactly what I had been missing-almost three weeks of calm and unhurried relationship development.

Yes, we had managed to cement our strange friendship through many deadly dangers, but we only got to know each other now. No movie clichés like tearful stories of lost love, just banal communication and getting used to the habits of comrades.

That's how I found out that Hans hated river fish because his army commandant had once stolen lots and lots of gold, and instead of food for the soldiers he had bought such crap that you couldn't eat it without risking vomiting it back into a bowl. Just as it was impossible to hang high-ranking kin of someone out there. So the border guards, who had any right to go outside the unit, had to catch their damn fish from the nearest river for their sustenance. It seemed especially cynical after they had been whipped for it, if they found it, for disrespecting the honor of the royal army.

Anyway, I understand Hans. Both in his dislike of fish (hello to my first days in Alurea) and in his decision to leave the army at the first opportunity to do so without joining the cohort of deserters.

I also found out why Losius had chosen the Duelist class, though I could hardly keep from laughing afterward. Hans and Taria also coughed heroically into their fists, so as not to offend their comrade. It's a joke, celebrating the tenth level so much that you swipe your finger past the dueling brether next to you. Yes, yes, read the adventure books of a local writer's pen, the young man dreamed of becoming a brether, in order to conquer the hearts of beautiful ladies and instill terror into the hearts of enemies. Nowadays, this class of "assassins of noble origin" is romanticized, although in fact their work is not safe at all and is far from being elevated.

He'd seen it for himself when he'd had to flee the capital. After he'd slaughtered an overly talkative turkey who had a title and even a level with a class but didn't know how to use it properly. But his parents did not appreciate the consequences of a fair fight, at least there was someone to warn and to cover for a very green boy.

Most brethers die fairly quickly, either in a duel or as a result of gratitude from the relatives of the next loser. The real high-level brethers, working in their specialty, can be counted on the fingers of one hand.

Taria told her stories, too, and I threw in a few twisted jokes from my last job. All three of them were pretty shocked to learn that I was, in fact, a mix of clerk, scribe, and auditor. Apparently, they didn't expect so heroic me to come out of the ranks of the warriors of the pen and inkpot (mouse and keyboard).

By the end of the third week, we had reached a small hill, from which we had a great view of a picturesque valley through which a very lively river was running. The horizon was obscured by heavily forested hills, and in the valley itself, we could see a few decent little villages. In the far corner, right between a lonely hill, or rather a rock, and the riverbank, was a large two-story manor house. One of those that are not castles-fortresses, but are only a little short of them in terms of defensive capabilities.

There was a very complicated expression on Losius's face that I couldn't describe in one phrase. He breathed in a full chest of fresh and crystal-clear air (no smell of manure reached here), but he managed to squeeze out a standard phrase of invitation: "Welcome to my home."

* * *

Authors note:

I don't even know if the MC in this story is going to be able to have sex more than once. Oh, man! Three times he's passed over intimacy like plywood!Fuck, Kostik, a naked woman came to you, ready for anything. All by herself. What the fuck is alchemy? Holy shit!He also almost got himself promoted to Soaring in the Dreams, just a couple of points missing. Again.But he was lucky with the troops who came to camp - I can't spoil it yet, because there will be an interlude about them, but so far, he seems to be lucky. Not in everything, not completely, but lucky.Also, thank God, there were no new adventures along the way. Only minor mishaps and that didn't count.The class for Hans... Not, let says, the strongest of the chosen ones. Rather second strongest, but first in usefulness. Magical Shooter would have been more powerful, but bows aren't for Hans - he can do it, but he doesn't feel like it.With Taria, it's funny. I already thought that MC would have her own Nymphadora of the Power of Hypnosis, but suddenly, for everyone, and me too, she threw a moral fit and was able to take control of her desires and reduce the measure of her overreaching selfishness.The Dancer is the most combat-powerful class already available. All the things Losius said are true - stealth, spy, and assassin.Losius's sister, I just found some good art: