The adobe houses squeezed the street in a vice. The street twisted like a snake, and once again, Amon found himself at a dead end. For a few seconds, he stood in front of a tall wall, pondering whether it was climbable.
The Chaos Space Marine irritably shook his head, turned around, and walked away. The wall was too high to leap over and too fragile to support the weight of a Space Marine. If he tried to pull himself up, the wall would immediately collapse.
"What kind of garbage do they build these with?!" Amon muttered angrily.
He had already assessed the sturdiness of the local structures. In one of the alleys, he had tried to overcome an obstacle with a running start. Amon picked up speed, pushed off the right house, and then the left. The first part went well: the sorcerer got a good momentum. But the second... He crashed his foot into an unbaked brick, curling for a third jump. The impact caused the brick to break, collapsing part of the unlucky house.
The sorcerer landed on the ground, barely keeping his balance. At that moment, a whole gang of inhabitants spilled out of the house: shrieking women, grimy children, and angry men.
They were yelling about mamono's whore's son, who dared to break their ancestral home. About foreign robbers. About helpless poverty. About the Goddess and the Prophet's revenge. About... well, there was too much to list! Amon learned so many new things about himself...
The situation quickly escalated. A knife gleamed in the back rows; Amon grabbed his sword; the shouting grew louder. A crowd gathered around. In the past, this would have turned into a massacre, but today Amon wanted to leave without a bloodbath. He wasn't even sure why.
Amon swept a menacing gaze over the people, and they choked on their words. A brief pause followed.
"Batur, foreign batur..." came a whisper from the colorful crowd. "I'd better leave... Let me through, I'd better go, let me through, good people!"
Meanwhile, the sorcerer found a pouch and contemptuously tossed a few coins on the ground. Then, he moved forward, parting the crowd. Amon understood the psychology of groups well. He knew that few would overcome greed and fear—the sorcerer looked too dangerous, mortally dangerous. And the gold, though lying in the gray dust, looked different—it was still gold. Yellow and shiny. Valuable.
...He left the street to the sound of a brawl. Someone took the coin, someone else thought they had, someone hit someone, and...
After a good hour of wandering, Amon returned to the same place.
"What were they thinking when they built El-Farrah?" Amon angrily thought. "I swear by Chaos, this place is so confusing it could rival the labyrinths of Tzeentch!"
Pieces of a turban and a robe lay on the ground.
The coins were gone.
***
Finding the Academy proved to be no easy task. The sorcerer repeatedly asked for information, but people quickly passed by, avoiding the stranger. Money didn't help. Amon often grabbed passersby by the hand. He would pull out gold, clenching it between his fingers, but the moment the person heard his destination, their interest would immediately fade.
The passerby would break free, curse, and spit on the ground. Amon cursed back, invoking all the gods of Chaos, the Warp, demons, and even the Corpse-on-the-Throne. He barged into teahouses packed to the brim, pushed through the crowd, and loudly declared:
"A gold coin to whoever shows the way to the Academy!"
Silence was his answer. The commoners lowered their eyes and drowned their embarrassment in the steam of tea.
"Two!"
And again, silence.
"Three! Three full gold coins! You won't earn this much in a year! This is your last chance!"
The patrons sighed and disdainfully waved their hands. Amon left, knocking over anyone unlucky enough to block his path. The street greeted him with heat, hustle, bustle, and sand. Everything except the Academy.
"I should have questioned the servant better. 'The northern part of the city'—that's all he told me," Amon thought angrily. "But how could I have known that this part would be so huge and chaotically built? And the locals, greedy for money, either fear something or... I don't know. It's already noon, and I still haven't reached the Academy. And the morning started off fairly well!"
***
When the sun rose, he grabbed a pillow from the floor and playfully threw it at the peacefully sleeping Alexandra.
"Oof, ouch!" The girl tumbled off the soft pile in surprise. "Ouch!"
Amon quickly descended and washed up. On his way back, he was met by Ali.
"You're already up, master? Should I serve breakfast?" the servant asked obsequiously.
"Serve it," Amon ordered coldly. "And quickly. I have many tasks."
Ali rushed to fulfill the order with such speed it was as if Warp demons were chasing him. Amon smirked. Not only had he explained Camilla's appearance, but he had also managed to thoroughly scare the servant, ensuring the best possible service for himself.