POV Duke de Reverdy
— Your Grace, your guests have arrived, — the well-mannered servant bowed deeply to his master and spoke without raising his eyes.
— Show them to me, — an older man with long gray hair in a low ponytail that reached to his shoulder blades, wearing expensive and lavish clothes, did not even turn to the servant, continuing to leisurely study the massive volume in his hands while sitting in a huge leather chair.
— Immediately, Your Grace, — the servant took a few steps back, turned smoothly, and left the room, gently closing the door behind him, which opened a few minutes later.
As the door opened, the servant stepped aside to allow a small man to enter, dressed in dark clothes, a hood that, for the moment, fell away, revealing a typical Arab: dark skin, dark slanting eyes, thin eyebrows, black hair, beautiful lips. If the guest's eyes had not been so "cold" and his gaze so "sharp," like the ready steel of an assassin's hidden blade, the man who entered could have been called handsome.
After taking four steps inside, the man stopped and bowed to the owner of this place. Not out of respect, for there was none, but because it was the custom.
— Dear Thapor,' the older man put down the book with the bookmark and looked at the guest. — Have your men arrived? Are they ready for work?
— Yes, Your Grace, — the guest nodded. — We are ready to begin work at any moment.
— I am glad to hear that, — the master of this place replied with coolness and slight indifference as he studied his interlocutor. — However, I hope that you will be up to the task and that history will not repeat the fiasco of the Italians. ....
— Black Snake Fangs always fulfills its obligations, — Tapor replied calmly, not reacting to the threat in his lordship's voice.
— I know of your order's reputation, — the older mage nodded, keeping his eyes on his guest. — But White Bone has one too, and your troops failed in their task... — his lordship narrowed his eyes, clearly expecting oaths and assurances.
— Even if we fail, others will come after us. We will answer with our lives, — Tapor replied calmly, but inwardly he was unhappy with such mistrust and disrespect.
— You're paid a lot of money to spill blood, and whether it's your own or someone else's, I don't care, as long as the job is done... — The man was about to say more when he felt the floor shake, the giant crystal chandelier sway and a melodious ringing sound.
The door to the room opened abruptly, revealing the servant of the day, alarm written in large letters on his face.
— Your Grace, the castle is under attack!
— Who dares?! — The elderly mage shouted immediately, rising to his feet.
— I don't know, Your Grace! — The servant bowed.
But the master paid no attention to him. With a quick step he reached the bookshelves, placed his hand on one of the books, and a second later there was a loud click, and part of the shelf moved aside, revealing a small niche filled with various crystals and crystal balls used for fortune telling and divination. Some of the crystals pulsed softly, some, four of them, had shattered into small pieces, two more had thick cracks running through them, but the crystals themselves continued to glow.
The dozen crystal balls here glowed with a soft light of various colors and shades. The man placed his hand on the outermost yellow ball and covered his eyes for a moment, new wrinkles appearing on his wrinkled face, expressing his extreme displeasure.
Another blow. This time, the blow to his feet was stronger, and several fragments of the chandelier fell to the floor and shattered, small cracks appearing in the expensive plaster. The already cracked ones shattered, as did two more of the remaining five crystals, the rest covered in cracks. One of the orbs went out. The man opened his eyes and turned to the two people waiting for his words. The evil look fell on the servant first.
— Let the guards arm themselves to the maximum, my troops to me. Without further words, the servant literally disappeared from the room. Attention turned to the guest. — I hire you for the defense of the castle, — the man grimaced. — At double your usual rate.
— Agreed, — Tapor nodded and immediately touched the bracelet on his left hand. — Any help? — The Arab asked matter-of-factly.
— No, — the older mage grumbled again. — The castle and the surrounding area, a radius of four hundred meters, was covered by an impenetrable dome. Even messages like 'Patronus' cannot get through.
— Interesting, — Tapor said, obviously interested. — It will be interesting to talk to whoever put up this dome, such a tool will be useful to the Black Snake Fangs.
— If you catch them, you can deal with them, but now let's get to work! Stop ruining my castle! — The old mage shouted towards the window as the ground shook again, but not as violently.
The Arab just hummed his words and moved slowly towards the doors, not reaching them two steps before he stopped and let the squad of the Duke's personal guards through. When some of the battle mages were distributed inside and the rest occupied the outer perimeter outside the master's office, the Arab left the room and moved towards the front exit of the castle. Only a few steps from the door of the study, the building shook again, plaster fell from the walls, several paintings fell from their places, their occupants began to loudly resent what was happening, and the owner shouted loudly from the study: What the hell is this?
Thapor was also curious about the weapon that could so quickly and efficiently breach the stationary defenses of the ancestral castle of one of the strongest magical clans in the land. It doesn't matter that the local defenses are much weaker than those in Tapor's homeland, but that doesn't mean that the effectiveness of the weapons used here doesn't deserve attention, it does! This is a case that needs more attention, perhaps it will be more useful than just gold.
As he descended the last staircase, Tapor noticed his team, his mages, each of them almost as strong as he was, as loyal to him as he was to himself. His strength and personal pride — eighteen of his strongest and cleverest sons!
***
POV Yusheng Lan
— Mistress! — her ward addressed the woman loudly with a set of sharp fangs and in a voice that had become quite familiar in recent times. — I love our boy! I want kittens from him! — A short, slender Chinese woman with a predatory and lustful expression hugged a bronze five-foot pole as if it were the object of her lust.
— What, like a kitten? — Yusheng slightly raised her eyebrow and turned her attention to the subordinate mage.
— That's right, ma'am! — said the Chinese man standing next to her, who was two heads taller than the one who spoke first. The young man held his nose in defiance. — She is in heat, ma'am! Something must be done about it!
— Hm? — After listening to the man, Yusheng looked back at the girl, who gave the man a sharp look and a small curse, but it was immediately dispelled by the Chinese man's powerful flame aura.
— Yes, Mistress! — the young woman replied fervently, literally licking the staff and then clutching it tightly. — Such power! Such power! I am conquered! I want kittens from him! — and looked at the woman as if it directly depended on her whether she got what she wanted or not.
— I don't care, — Yusheng replied, shrugging indifferently. — It's over there, — she nodded towards the sisters who were holding up the intricate workings of the magical sealing rituals. — Ask Zanzen and Ju, they are the ones who will be the boy's wives...
— So you don't mind! — The Chinese woman exclaimed with great enthusiasm, her narrow eyes literally glowing with joy and lust, driving even Yusheng crazy.
— The more "kittens", the stronger the clan... — The woman shrugged again. — Come on, one more hit, it looks like there's not much left... ....
— Yes, mistress! — the sharp-toothed one literally sang.
A few clicks of the rings on the bronze staff, one ring lowered, another twist, and the staff turned into a spear blazing with electric light, scattering a sheaf of blue and purple sparks. The Chinese woman swung, and the spear literally shot forward, toward the rich, overly rich French chateau.
In an instant, the woman's hand and the castle were connected by a bright line of light, there was a sound of thunder, and the blue dome of the defense cracked and began to crumble and fade away, and the last shield made visible waves.
— AH! — The lustful moan of the Chinese woman made some of them shudder, and the man even waved his palm in front of his face, wincing slightly: his awakened form was completely different from that of his companion, so the smells of arousal and natural orgasm did not excite him. — How nice!
— Get ready, — Yusheng commanded through the communication amulets. — Break through the last shield! Ready in ten clicks!
— Acknowledged, Madam! — the commanders of the battle trio reported one after the other.
A few seconds later, another loud electric boom sounded, and not only was the last defense swept away, but one of the four towers, somewhat out of place in the overall architectural style of the castle, was demolished by a powerful attack.
There was no command "Forward", the mages were already on the attack — everyone knew his place, everyone knew what to do, and therefore there was no need for unnecessary orders....