By the time I reached the bandits' camp, it was already deep night. A crescent moon shone brightly in the clear sky. Its light would have been enough for me, but not for the others: the camp was well lit by torches and two other fires.
In the camp itself I found only minor changes: the girl was already dressed again in blood-stained clothes from someone else's shoulders, and two men and three horses were missing.
Coming out of the darkness, I nodded to the half-breed who had started up and pulled the horses behind me.
Selon came to and, hanging by the ropes, was moaning softly. When I got closer, I noticed that someone had gagged the leader with a dirty rag.
The old man came up to me and explained:
- He swore loudly and made a lot of promises. It became unbearable to listen to him.
- That's right, - I nodded: - It's time to begin. Bring me a piece of cloth. It doesn't have to be very clean.
I took out my sword and began to cut off the captured bandit's jacket, exposing his torso.
Hmm. He's well-trained. Maybe he's even undergone special training. People like that can be hard to break. I might have to look for a completely different herb, but it might not grow here. Should I make a mixture of herbs? There's another one that enhances the effects of my flowers. But that cocktail could make him lose consciousness, and then die.
Something clicked in my brain, and a series of memories flashed before my eyes. Judging by them, I was able to use healing magic to support my victims. I wonder if I can revive that old skill?
Returning to my horses, I retrieved my bouquet and, holding it in my hands, approached Selon. The bandit looked at me with hatred.
The old man returned, frozen in indecision, waiting for me to pay attention to him. But I had no time for that yet.
Smiling, I squatted down in front of the stretched-out bandit and began to speak, demonstratively examining and even admiring the flowers:
"Do you know what this flower is, Selon? Elvarin the Cruel. And have you heard the legend about her? I'll tell you. Listen. Long ago, when this world was still young, when the World Tree had not yet been burned by Kehiranar the Mad, and the Dark Eldar still guarded Salliel's nightly rest, there was a highborn elf. And her name was Elvarin. She was incredibly suspicious and very cruel. Possessing incredible beauty, she horribly humiliated and even beat those who confessed their love to her. The Goddess of Happiness, Alliran, saw this and, enraged, turned her into this flower..." Suddenly, the memory of my desperate cry and the dead girl in my arms appeared before my eyes. Gritting my teeth, I said bitterly: "Gods are like that... How can you do something without thinking... It's easy." "But how to answer the prayer..." Shaking my head, I turned to my grandfather for the cloth he had brought, and suddenly saw that he had stood transfixed, listening to my story. But he wasn't the only one—the other former captives were also listening to the short tale of distant times. The little girl's eyes glittered with interest in the light of the flame. Rising, I took off my cloak and threw it over the side of the cart. Seeing my armor, my grandfather let out a breath of amazement. I took the cloth and spread it on the ground. Taking one sword from its sheath, I laid it flat on the cloth. Then I placed a couple of flowers on the blade and pulled a stiletto from its hidden sheath. I began to crush the stem of the flowers, squeezing out the viscous white juice. At the same time, I continued speaking: "However, I digress. An interesting legend, isn't it? Do you know what will happen if you carelessly sniff this flower? No? You do know? Exactly." I thought so. If you don't rinse your nose with water, it will swell so much you'll have to talk into it for a week. Do you know what will happen if I sprinkle its pollen into your wound? Not anymore? You'll die in terrible agony. You'll feel like your body is on fire, and the flames are creeping into your mouth and nose. When they start creeping into your eyes, you'll know you're already at the brink. There's an antidote, but it's expensive, and it's easier to drink a moderately potent healing potion or hire a mage-healer. Which we don't have planned. But I'll sprinkle the pollen on you only if you stubbornly remain silent. For now, we'll make do with its juice. That, too, as you'll soon find out, is very unpleasant, though not as fatal. Your torment will last for a day or more. When the effect wears off, I'll top up the wound with more juice. "You can trust me - soon you will agree with everything I say, and you will tell me everything I want to know and even more, if only I will end your suffering..." Having collected the juice from the blade of the sword with a stiletto, I carefully sniffed it and, nodding approvingly, turned to my grandfather: - It would be better to take the girl away: she should not see what is about to happen here..." The half-breed approached silently, picked her up in his arms and carried her aside. I brought the blade of the stiletto, on which there were several large drops of viscous juice, to the frightened eyes of the bandit, and smiled: - Are you ready? No? But I will begin anyway...
Smiling crookedly, I quickly drew the blade across his bare chest, cutting deep into the skin and muscle. Blood flowed.
Selon groaned. I yanked the gag from his mouth. Almost immediately, a stream of choice curses descended upon me. The bandit even started spitting at me. After dodging a couple of times, I pulled the cloth with the sword and flowers to the side and continued squeezing the juice, collecting it on the blade of one stiletto. Meanwhile, with the other stiletto, I cut off the pollen-laden buds and carefully set them aside.
By the time I'd prepared the next portion, the bandit's swearing had become generously interspersed with groans and heavy breathing. And when I approached him again, he recoiled from me, looking in horror at the stiletto blade.
- No. Don't. Ask - I'll tell you everything! - he breathed out.
I smiled and almost sang:
"Oh. No need for these tricky questions! You tell me, my dear, and we'll listen..." And I quickly slashed the blade across his chest again, rubbing the remaining oil into the cut, among other things.
He breathed heavily for a couple of seconds, and then began to scream in pain:
- Oh, my gods! Make it stop! Aaah! I was supposed to carry out some sabotage in this barony! This is the second... The source in Istra didn't know the exact time of the passage, only the route. They've been waiting a long time... More than two weeks...
I asked:
- Where are you from?
"From Zarzan!" he exhaled, and, catching his breath, continued: "Prince Muar was crowned a month ago. He sent us..."
- Really personally? - I raised an eyebrow.
- He gave me some advice... He spoke about the coming war with our neighbors and their treachery...
Turning my head towards the old man, I say:
- You see. There will be a war after all...
The forest was disturbed, its leaves rustling as if in a breeze. My sensitive ears seemed to catch an inaudible whisper. Strangers?
Ignoring Selon, who continued to say something, I turned towards the road leading to the clearing and reached out for my cloak.
At that moment, the forest brought me the distant crunch of a breaking branch.
I quickly threw my cloak over my shoulders, grabbed my bow and pulled my duffel bag off my horse.
A couple of seconds and I'm back in the saving darkness of the forest.
*****
The Baron's squad passed a barely noticeable turn in the night darkness. Only after some time did Haalen notice that the bloody drip on the road was no longer there. They had to turn back and move much more slowly. They would have missed the turn again, but Haalen spotted the glimmer of fire among the trees.
Rushing toward him, they came upon two hunters dragging a corpse with three arrows in its back and throat out of the thicket by its legs. There were three more dead bodies on the narrow road—two with arrows in their throats sprawled on the road, and one with an arrow in his shoulder lying on his horse.
Hmm. Apparently, none of them even managed to utter a peep. Considering this was the work of a single elf, it paints a dangerous picture.
Haalen jumped off his horse and bent over the body, which had a terrible wound instead of an eye.
"Sir, Baron..." said one of the hunters and, straightening up, dropped his foot to the ground.
The second man, clearly panicking, froze in a half-bent position, holding the other limb of the bloody body.
Tur sighed and removed his helmet. Then, casting a searching glance at the men, he asked:
- Are you okay? Where are the bandits?
The first man exchanged glances with his comrade and answered hesitantly:
- Lord Baron, here's the thing... Well, an elf showed up and shot almost everyone. He sent us to take them back to camp.
Thor turned to the straightened Haalen and, exchanging glances with him, continued his questioning:
- Almost everyone?
"Well, yeah..." the man nodded. "We gathered the rest together and bandaged their wounds. And he pulled that... their leader... out of the forest and tied him to a cart. He said he'd torture him. Apparently he knows a lot of things." The man frowned. "And he also talked to old Matthew about something, and he came back pale and slurred his words..."
- Hmm... What else?
The man shrugged:
"He's strong and fast. And he disappears into the forest like a shadow. He didn't touch the half-elves and even somehow...well...freed Elno first, but he kept giving Tari the sideways glance. The bandits beat her up and wanted to rape her in a crowd, and it turns out he saved her..."
Twice throughout his rambling story, Tur caught himself with his jaw about to drop into his hands.
A pure-blooded elf was the first to free a half-breed? Living proof of elven-human intercourse? What died in the Great Forest that such a strange representative of the 'eternal' race emerged from it?
Oh, this is not a good sign...
The Baron put on his helmet and, turning to the tense soldiers, spoke loudly:
"Don't make any sudden movements, don't raise your bows or place arrows on them. We'll try to resolve this peacefully. Especially since he doesn't seem to be our enemy. Is everything clear?" After waiting for nods, he turned to the half-breeds. "And you try to get through the forest. If anything happens... You must understand everything."
Haalen nodded grimly and approached his horse. Opening a large leather sheath, he drew from it a skillful longbow. Grimly checking the string's tension, he slung the quiver of long arrows over his shoulder and silently dove into the thicket. His companion, similarly equipped, followed him.
Only after waiting a couple of minutes, Tour waved his hand, indicating the direction of movement for the soldiers.
*****
I plunged very shallowly into the thicket—just twenty steps in a straight line. Then I turned at a right angle and emerged back toward the camp, but away from where I'd entered.
Watching the hunters tensely as they stared after me in bewilderment, I quickly counted the remaining arrows in my quiver. Five.
This means that if bandit reinforcements arrive here, things could turn out badly for the former prisoners. And I simply don't have enough arrows for the game.
When another branch snapped somewhere along the road, it finally dawned on the half-breed that guests would soon be arriving.
He quickly exchanged words with the other former captives and, pointing in the direction from which the guests were supposed to appear, picked up the little girl in his arms and quickly carried her into the bushes.
The men quickly took apart the captured weapons and also hid: some ran behind the carts, while others dashed into the forest and hid behind a tree.
One of the men even quickly climbed into the cradle where the robber's corpse lay. Taking his bow and arrows, he positioned the corpse so that it acted as a shield.
Well then. They're ready to receive guests. Am I? If there aren't many of them, I'll easily shoot them down. At worst, I'll lure them into the forest, or I'll have to come up with something... Recalling other tricks of the Twilight War...
The title flashed through my mind, triggering another memory. This time, it was an extremely realistic picture about magic. Apparently, combat magic.
A dark night and silhouettes flickering among the tree trunks. My hand rises, and long, black needle-like arrows fly from my palm. They knock down a shadow that lets out a desperate, thin-voiced cry...
The memory faded, leaving a very interesting aftertaste: I realized I knew how to create and use not only this particular spell, but many others as well. Moreover, I felt my magical reserves returning.
My eyes narrow involuntarily: its size is clearly larger than it was, judging by my memories. Two, maybe even three times. And this gift of mine, judging by everything, is not yet fully fulfilled.
In addition, my magic became much more multifaceted: instead of the pure green mana of Life and the pure white mana of Light, I felt something that simply could not be there - the Elements, the oil-black Darkness, and the frighteningly whispering gray fog of Death.
The changes are strange, and I'm not sure yet whether I should be scared or happy: okay, the Elements, but what about Darkness and Death for a light elf? Something clearly happened there, in the Forest. Maybe I died there? But I'm not a lich, am I? My heart beats, my blood flows...
A vampire? But the sun doesn't blind me or burn me.
Stop, stop! The dead can't have Life Mana as a gift!
I felt confused. How could I figure it all out?
At the same time, the realization that I was a magician and quite a powerful one warmed me.
By the way, guests can be greeted immediately with spells. My mind began to sort through the ornate names and combine them with elements of memories that my memory revealed.
'Black Arrows' is exactly what I used that long ago night. 'Wrath of the Forest' – animated trees entwine unwanted guests with their branches and roots, tearing them to pieces. 'Tumbleweed' – a large sphere of living vines quickly rolls toward the enemies, enveloping them and consuming them. 'Forest Offensive' – animated trees pull their roots from the ground and, with unexpected agility, attack the enemy.
Besides this, there were many other indirect magical influences. I suddenly realized what that wolf in the forest was: elves sometimes force predators to patrol their territories. It's a form of contract—in exchange, they receive food and healing aid. Predators can also be used as beaters and scouts. In theory, you could even employ herbivores, but from what I could tell, they're much more involved.
The names and memories that came flooding back captivated me. Magical duels and the screams of dying enemies... It felt like it was happening right now.
My lips stretched into a smile, and a pain twitched my cheek, almost as usual. I moved the fingers of my right hand and cast 'Cure,' a moderately powerful Healing School spell. It required very little Life Mana, confirming the fact that my reserves had increased significantly. Bending my hand, I brought the spell to my face and critically examined the lump of light green mist. Everything seemed correct.
And I simply release it into my face. My cheek tightens unpleasantly for a second and then releases. A life-giving wave slowly spreads from my head down my body, spreading through my skin, muscles, and blood vessels.
Oh, how wonderful! My leg, which had been aching slightly on the edge of consciousness, is healing. The boundaries of sensation are expanding incredibly. It's as if I had been blind and deaf, and now I can see and... hear.
The sound of the forest grew much louder. I began to clearly sense every drop and particle of life around me. A wave of perception rushed in all directions, revealing things I hadn't noticed before.
And here come the guests. More than sixty horsemen are moving along the road.
Humans. Noisy creatures, somehow very similar to the people of the 'Eternals.' They are similar in every way except their lifespan and, on average, their rather repulsive appearance. Although, of course, compared to orcs or goblins, they are quite handsome. Incidentally, their women are sometimes beautiful enough to be approached, which often happens. Unfortunately, their beauty is not eternal. But here, too, things are not so clear-cut - human mages can live a long time. Almost as long as the Eternals. Moreover, as I just had the pleasure of seeing, our half-breeds have become common among humans - living proof that, morally, we and the dark ones are not far removed from each other. Despite five hundred thousand years of enmity and a different path of development... We are the same.
By the way, there are two more half-breeds moving through the forest. They are clearly part of this group. They move almost like us, except the forest is helping us unconditionally, while for them...
As proof of my unfinished thought, the deadwood beneath the half-breeds crunched. They froze. After standing there for a few seconds, they exchanged puzzled glances and began to move on.
In principle, now that my magic has awakened, I can kill them all without letting a single one out of the forest. Alone. The only thing stopping me from an immediate attack is that there were no half-breeds among the bandits, and given that, the likelihood that this group is also bandits is extremely low.
But it still exists. The bandits could have simply hired them. Selon was gathering the locals, wasn't he? So...
The battlefield must be prepared. 'Forest's Wrath' and 'Forest's Advance'. I begin to dart silently among the trees, implanting clots of spell into their trunks. Life Mana begins to penetrate them seamlessly, altering their structure and making them subservient to my will.
The carts rocked and shook as roots began to rapidly grow and creep beneath the clearing. They would form a living network beneath the thin layer of earth, capable of attacking enemies and either dragging them underground or killing them outright.
Life Mages cannot be given time to prepare the battlefield: even the weakest of them, if given time, can create conditions that will leave any elemental combat mage facing a dilemma - either retreat or die.
This applies to necromancers to the same extent.
Finishing touch.
I dropped my bow to the ground and extended my left hand in front of me. Obeying my will, a pine cone fell from the tree into my palm. I stared at it for a moment, then began to imbue it with mana. Reacting immediately, it began to sprout and literally spill out of my palm, a living tree, onto the ground. Waiting until the sapling took root, I removed my hand from under the pine cone and, walking around it, began to stroke the sapling with raw mana with both hands, forming a humanoid figure.
At first, I thought about simply creating a small wooden golem to talk to guests, but like all Eternals, I had a sense of beauty and, carried away, I began to sculpt a full-fledged copy of myself.
It would seem like this should take quite a while, but it doesn't. The fact is, working with the Forces depends largely not so much on talent or magical potential, but on imagination. Coming up with a new strategy or tactic. Attacking the enemy from a new direction—from below, from above, and even from within. It often happened that a smarter mage managed to defeat a stronger opponent. I experienced this constantly—they defeated me, even though I was...
I even stopped. And who, actually, was I?
My memory was silent, showing only rare images of majestic buildings and my instructors training me...
Okay. The final touch and the surface of the wooden doll began to change color, completely copying me.
Now – the little things. There will be no weapons in my hands. No arrows in my quiver either. The eyes... They're not alive. Well, there's a way out. I took off my cloak and threw it over my shoulders. Carefully buttoning it and pulling the hood low, I stepped back and admired the creation.
Unfortunately, such a golem is extremely stupid: it can kill, but it cannot speak or perceive information.
I will establish a connection with him and control him like a puppet. He himself will have to immerse himself in meditation, having first secured his location.
Having quickly run another fifty steps away from the clearing, I sat down on the ground in a lotus position and released life mana, causing the undergrowth to grow even more and securely cover me from all sides.
After that, I took off my gloves and touched my fingertips together. Then I closed my eyes and concentrated on my sensations, searching for the golem. I felt it almost immediately.
Now the final step is a dive into the Astral. It is through this distorted dimension that I will send my soul. Traveling through the Astral is quite dangerous: it is home to many terrifying creatures capable of devouring an unwary medium. However, most of them are very weak, and even a weak mage is no match for them. All they can do is disrupt concentration and distract. The fact is that a mage's soul resides at the center of a magical reserve, and to harm a mage, Astral entities must first either break through this thick layer or deplete the reserve. This can be an impossible task even for the most powerful beings of the Astral. However, this does not apply to demons. Mediums are greatly afraid of them, since for a demon or other being, a soul freely roaming the Astral is like free candy. Fortunately, any demon can be seen from the Astral from a great distance.
To properly understand the Astral, one must perceive it as an extremely thick liquid, a gel. Material entities can exist within it, but moving within it is extremely difficult. The Astral will resist this very strongly and even try to push the intruder out. Although, of course, with a certain amount of skill, movement within it is possible. When a mage immerses themselves in the Astral, very interesting optical effects are observed – the mage literally dissolves into thin air, leaving only a distorted, glass-like silhouette. Physically, the mage becomes completely invulnerable and cannot affect physical objects. However, one can float through walls, the ground, living beings, etc. But this has a downside – while in the Astral, the mage becomes much more vulnerable to spells and other magical influences: the traces left by the spells that have worked continue to cause harm even after the spell itself has exhausted itself. If it weren't for this property, mages would all live in the Astral Plane, since it's easier to learn magic there than in the real world. However, the incredible vulnerability to the side effects of even one's own spells has led to the fact that only the strongest and most experienced mages practice using spells from the Astral Plane.
Because of the latter, it is of little use in combat: something that, for example, would not even make a human archmage scratch in the real world, can easily, if not kill him, then seriously injure him in the Astral.
In general, when physically present in the Astral Plane, it's important to understand that you can't breathe it—it's completely neutral. However, you can use special artifacts and spells.
The Astral has many properties. It's most often used for remote influence and for finding magical traces. Regarding the latter, all traces of magical influence on the real world are preserved in the Astral for an extremely long time. The High Priestesses say that traces of a spell can sometimes be seen even after a hundred years, not to mention months and days!
Of course, many methods have been devised to combat this property of the Astral. The simplest of these are specialized spells capable of stirring up the Astral, not concealing it, but rather mixing everything up so that it becomes impossible to discern anything in the resulting soup. The most complex ones, however, collect traces into tiny, extremely dense balls that can be pulled away to a completely different location...
Why do I know all this? The answer is both simple and complex: I was taught it. I remember the blurred silhouettes of my teachers, I even remember their voices and the meaning of what they said, but I don't remember the most important thing – who I was...
The world around me faded as usual, and after observing the Astral for a couple of seconds for any unexpected entities, I launched my soul into it.
A ghostly world. Like a faintly glowing shadow of the real thing.
It's difficult to see the material world from the Astral, but my magical influence on the forest caused it to glow with a greenish light. My golem stood out especially.
Having flown up to it, I climbed into it and, having allocated more mana, partially merged with it.
It felt completely different from my body. Furthermore, I could only see the Astral through it, not the physical world. These were downsides. On the plus side, I could communicate freely with guests without fear of the golem being riddled with arrows, burned, hacked, or torn to pieces. Furthermore, I could deliver full-fledged magical attacks from the Astral. Unfortunately, when the Astral became disturbed by the spells cast and my already poor orientation deteriorated to the point of collapse, I would have to retreat and switch to long-range attacks.
The very fact that one could destroy an enemy with impunity, and then, upon returning to one's body, deal with the miraculous survivors, made the enemies seriously fear our mages.
During the Twilight War, the dark ones found only one way to combat the Astrals: they summoned demons. And we were forced to retreat. Too often, one of us was caught by a creature from the Infernal Universe, unable to reach our bodies.
Of course, if a mage was strong, he could engage in combat with a demon and even win, but that would only be if he had mana left in reserve, which was unlikely after magical attacks...
Well, the guests are already here.
I led my golem out of the forest. It was a bit clumsy as it moved, but the forest made up for it, and as a result, it moved as silently as I did.
The group of guests just turned cautiously along the road and found themselves in a clearing.
I stood calmly, looking at them. Through the Astral, the magical amulets of the new arrivals were clearly visible. Nothing serious: mostly healing and rather weak protective ones.
The horsemen poured out into the clearing and surrounded me.
One of them, a tall knight in heavy armor with a helmet adorned with steel horns, pointed a short spear at me and boomed:
"I am Baron Gaur Tur, vassal of King Henry II and ruler of these lands. Answer me, who are you?"
I looked back and saw that when the rider introduced himself, the former prisoners began to emerge from the forest, and the bandits, who had come to life, froze in fear.
Well then... I make the golem figure shrug and cast a weak spell to recreate the voice. I succeeded masterfully, and the voice turned out very melodic:
"I belong to the people of the Eternals. Having seen the bandits and their deeds, I decided to intervene. I managed to capture the bandit leader, a certain Selon, as well as several of his henchmen. You arrived just as Selon was beginning to answer the questions posed..." The baron looked at the sprawled bandit leader, and I continued hesitantly: "As for my name... Due to a recent serious injury, I..." Even in this form, I couldn't maintain my mask of composure, and there was a pause in my speech: "...don't remember it."
- Hm... - the knight rumbled from under his helmet: - Okay. This is all strange. - He jumped off his horse and said: - You're not going to attack us, are you?
I make the golem bow slightly:
"No. I simply provided assistance... um... to your people. I only regret one thing - that I arrived there too late to help your soldiers. I hope that you will be courteous to me and not try to attack me: I assure you that the skills and magic I had lost are quickly returning to me."
"I give you my word," the knight boomed.
"Okay," the golem nodded and continued, "Please don't be afraid - I'm not here right now. This body is just a golem." My creation took off its cloak and, throwing it over its arm, froze.
I emerged from the golem and, casting another appraising glance at the clearly puzzled soldiers and the baron, flew back into the forest to my body.
Halfway through the forest, I came across two half-breeds with bows in their hands, carefully moving towards a clearing.
Of course, it's risky to leave them like that, but if you look at it from that perspective, then my contact with the authorities smacks of inadequacy on my part.
Flying up to my body, I spun around and dived into it.
I open my eyes with satisfaction and rise to my feet. The feeling of my body is unlike anything else.
The thicket I'd cultivated parted, letting me out. Grabbing my duffel bag and bow, I glided toward the clearing.
I found the half-breeds right next to her. They were keeping watch over the forest and the camp.
And yet they were not able to notice me in the darkness of the night.
"I hope you won't shoot me?" I whispered quietly, emerging from the shadows two steps away from the half-breeds.
They twitched nervously, but refrained from reaching for the arrows.
One of the half-breeds said a little hesitantly:
- Everything will depend on you, lightborn.
I snorted and walked past them, out of the forest.
The riders and the baron hadn't moved away from the frozen golem, holding my cloak at arm's length. The former prisoners had joined them. As I watched, the half-breed approached. Waving his hand in front of my unresponsive creature, he cautiously peered under the hood and said:
- Did he say so?
Meanwhile, I was already quite close and, smiling sweetly, I walked up to him and, taking the cloak, threw it back over my shoulders.
After that I turned to the baron and said:
- I propose to continue the interrogation of the bandit leader.
The Baron froze slightly and, taking another look at the cloakless replica of me standing next to me, removed his helmet. Beneath it lay a fair-skinned man with short, light-brown hair. His eyes were a steel-gray. He looked remarkably like the dead man.
- I agree. However, before we begin, I'd like to know what you've already heard from him.
I looked at my copy and walked around it, carefully examining it for previously unnoticed flaws:
"After injecting his blood with the juice of the elvarin herb, he reported that he had arrived from Zarzan to carry out sabotage. There were other groups besides that." The baron suddenly gritted his teeth, but I waved my hand and a wooden root-tentacle erupted from the ground. It wrapped itself around the golem and pulled it vertically downwards. Behind it, the earth closed in as if nothing had happened. I chuckled and continued, turning to the baron: "Selon also said that the recently crowned Prince Muar had given them instructions."
"Beasts," the baron boomed with hatred. "They will answer. For everything..."
I shrug and walk over to the sprawled Selon. Stopping in front of him, I sadly note that he's lost consciousness—a double dose of Elvarin juice would knock even the dark ones unconscious... A normal person wouldn't be able to handle that.
We can't leave him like this. Otherwise he'll die.
So... How was it?
Throwing my cloak and the rest of my belongings onto the ground in front of him, I quickly cast 'heal' and slam it into the body hanging from the ropes. The deep cuts, eaten away by the 'elvarin' juice, healed almost instantly. Following this, the broken leg healed with a crunch.
Selon took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He looked up at us and stared at me and the baron standing next to him in bewilderment.
"You're in bad shape, Selon." I beamed and continued, "My magic has returned, which means we're going to have such a blast that I'm afraid even many of the veterans here didn't know so much about human anatomy..." I close my eyes and drawl dreamily, "What a bloody carousel we'll have! We'll be able to let your organs out for a walk... And peel off your skin... And crush your bones one by one. And more than once! Sigh! What a joy..."
Looking at me during my speech, Selon turned pale until his face became the color of snow.
- No-no-no... - he squealed like a wounded pig when I finished: - I told you everything! Don't!
I threw up my hands:
- Well, I have to confirm your words? What if you lied?
The Baron said thoughtfully:
"I'm not against torture, but I suggest we move it to a more suitable location. And I think his words need to be heard by someone else."
- Well then... - I was upset, but then my gaze fell on the other bandits: - Oh! And what about these ones?
The baron glanced at me sideways:
"We have the executioner's block for robbery, but not torture. However, if you're so keen to torture someone, I can introduce it specifically for you and appoint you as the executioner: it would be useful for people to see what the path of robbery and treason leads to."
I sighed:
- The offer is, of course, excellent, but I have to decline it - I wouldn't like to be seen in front of people until I remember my name.
The knight turned to me:
- What about the trophies?
I shrug:
"I took what I wanted from the things. Maybe I'll shake down a little more money..." I looked at Selon again: "By the way, could you tell us about your funding channels and where your treasury, or whatever you call it, is?" Selon's eyes darted around, and I smiled at the baron again: "And yet, I'll have some fun with him: I'll need the money. You can take everything else - just leave these two horses alone."
The Baron narrowed his eyes and nodded.
I took a narrow stiletto out of my bracer and slowly ran the blade across the bare chest of the bandit leader.