"Max, you alright?" Katrina approached me, but her attention was riveted on the five warriors closing in. They walked unhurriedly, hands off their weapons, but looking thoroughly menacing all the same.

  "I'll live," I said.

  "Can you fight?" A somewhat unexpected question. Surely these elves wouldn't engage the Order of the Swallow directly, let alone try to assassinate one of its leaders.

  "Not sure yet," I answered with a grimace. The bolt in my gut didn't concern me as much as the one in my leg. If I needed to run, I wouldn't be able to — so the first order of business was pulling it out.

  Meanwhile, the knights in coal-black armor walked right up to us and stopped. One of their helmets, like some piece of high technology, shifted and opened, revealing a face.

  Elves looked pretty much how I'd imagined: sharp aristocratic features and yellowish eyes brimming with contempt.

  The one who'd shown his face stepped forward.

  "I am Hatton Sakuaras Audenarit." Apparently an introduction.

  "A whole hatton," the Lord Commander smirked, one hand on his sword hilt, the other on his belt. He showed no fear or confusion — which was more than could be said for the female mage and Katrina. Their faces betrayed serious nerves. "And to what do we owe the pleasure of Yundor's elite warriors?"

  "We've come for you, Lucius de Shinro," the elf answered, twisting his lips into the most repulsive smile I'd ever seen. If anyone ever smiled at me like that, they'd get a fist to the face. "Our lord, Eigur Fatima, has long wished to make your acquaintance."

  "So House Fatima is behind this. Interesting," the old man replied with an equally crooked smile.

  "You do realize this violates the third clause of the centennial treaty."

  "As if a treaty with animals holds any weight," one of the elves who hadn't revealed his face scoffed.

  "Easy," the hatton raised a hand, calming the soldier. "But he's right. We're not obligated to respect the opinions of stupid little humans. You're coming with us, Lord de Shinro. You have a choice — voluntarily or by force. Come willingly, and we'll let the others go. Refuse, and your granddaughter becomes a plaything for the duang slaves."

  Katrina's face contorted at those words, though I still didn't know what duangs were.

  "Tempting offer, but I'm afraid I must decline," the old man answered, drawing his sword.

  "As you wish," the elf reacted with surprising calm. He'd apparently expected it would come to a fight. "They describe you as a legendary hero. Let's see how much truth there is to the rumors."

  "Don't choke on it," the old man smirked and closed the distance with impossible speed. The elf reacted sharply, drawing a sword from his belt. The long-ear's weapon looked exactly like mine — but only at first glance. The moment his hand touched the hilt, the blade shifted from gold-silver to coal-black.

  Interesting. Could mine do that? And what did it do?

  Steel rang. The hatton blocked the Lord Commander's attack, but the old man wasn't satisfied and delivered a powerful kick. The elf didn't fall, but was pushed back, his heels carving a good five meters through the dirt.

  "Not bad," the elf said approvingly, while the others watched their leader without intervening.

  "I'm just warming up." Lucius tilted his head to the side with an audible crack.

  And then I realized I couldn't move. Not because I was mesmerized by their fight — no. Some invisible force had locked my entire body.

  "Katrina! I can't move!"

  The girl tore her attention from the fight, and from her widening eyes, I realized she couldn't move either. Gritting her teeth, the paladin managed to force out a single step.

  "One of them is doing this," the female mage told us.

  Agnish, meanwhile, realized we couldn't move and the old man was occupied with the elf, so he hurried to take shelter behind his true masters.

  "I'm so glad you've come. As promised, I've brought you the Lord Comm— what?"

  He didn't get to finish, because a blade pierced his chest.

  "Your existence is no longer required," the elf said contemptuously, withdrawing the sword from the man's body.

  Right. Spent asset.

  Having dealt with their own spy, four elves headed our way — either to kill us or take us hostage. I wasn't eager to find out which.

  "Cover your eyes," Shali told us, and we complied instantly. Even through closed eyelids I saw a blinding flash, after which the invisible bonds fell away. I opened my eyes to find an elf directly in front of me and swung my fist immediately. But the elf caught it effortlessly — I couldn't even push him back.

  Freeing my hand, I drew my sword and tried to land a blow. And I did. Except it left absolutely no mark on his coal-black armor. He didn't even need to block. And my arm went instantly numb, like I'd struck solid rock at full force.

  "Get back!" Katrina shouted, landing a strike on my opponent that he promptly blocked.

  I'd suspected elves were strong, but this was absurd. What were those suits made of? And they didn't seem to consider us serious opponents. What if they had?

  While pondering this, I took a hit from another elf who appeared practically from nowhere. He struck not with a sword but merely a fist — and thank the gods of the Tower for that, because a blade would've cut me clean in half. But even a punch was more than enough. I slammed into a tree and couldn't get back up on my own. If a regular human had been in my place, the blow would likely have been fatal.

  The battle was escalating, and now Katrina's grandfather was fighting three elves at once, holding his own. Their fight looked beyond human. At one point the old man grabbed one of them and hurled him, shattering a tree that happened to be in the "projectile's" path. How much force does it take to throw a person hard enough to do that?

  The remaining two dealt with us. Katrina fought one; the other, having decided I was finished, turned on Shali. The girl was casting furiously, hurling one combat spell after another, but they all dissipated on contact with the black armor. Apparently elves had magic resistance comparable to the executioner demon's — possibly even stronger.

  So the sorceress tried her blinding spell again, and I only just managed to close my eyes in time. This time she hadn't warned us. And that was bad — Katrina didn't react in time and nearly took a hit. If I hadn't gathered my last reserves of strength and made a diving tackle, knocking her aside, she'd have been killed right there.

  "Thanks," she said with a grimace, springing to her feet.

  How useless was I? Some vampire! Couldn't even handle a few long-ears. The wounds were serious, and rapid regeneration wasn't happening.

  That was when the blade in Katrina's grandfather's hands flared with golden light.

  "Time to end these games," the old man snorted, and with a single swing severed the arm of an elf who hadn't jumped back in time. The severed limb sailed into the air, tumbled a couple of times, and landed right next to me.

  The elf himself took the wound with incredible composure. He didn't collapse screaming — just kept fighting. Did they not feel pain at all?

  Licking my lips, I froze beside the severed arm, not knowing what to do. Risk it and drink? Then I could get back into the fight faster. But if the old man or his aide noticed me drinking blood…

  Both were occupied, and Katrina was fighting her elf nearly on equal terms. But this fragile balance could break at any moment. The paladin hadn't managed to scratch her opponent's armor, while the elf's sword could easily cleave through plate. Sooner or later, she'd slip, and the elf would strike.

  Making sure I was out of anyone's line of sight, I picked up the severed arm. Katrina noticed what I was about to do and only pursed her lips in displeasure. Not a dealbreaker.

  I didn't need much. Just a sip.

  Elven blood was strange. Nothing like human blood in taste or composition. But at least it didn't burn like demon blood, which I'd once had the misfortune to sample.

  The hardest part was stopping. My mind knew it was enough, but my blood-starved body didn't just want more — it craved it with every cell. Overcoming the thirst took an incredible effort.

  I tossed the arm aside, closed my eyes, and clenched my teeth, riding out the maddening thirst. It always came like a tidal wave — the key was to hold on until it receded.

  Fortunately, this time the "blood frenzy" passed almost immediately. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I rose to my feet and drew my sword. The wounds were already healing, and the suppressed pain vanished entirely.

  "What the—?" The elf fighting Katrina was astonished when the sword in my hands turned pitch black. Apparently, elven weapons could only be used by elves — but I'd drunk their blood. Not a bad side effect. Even Katrina was stunned.

  And I swung with everything I had. Out of habit, the elf didn't bother blocking with his sword, using his vambrace instead. His shock was palpable when my blade punched through the armor and buried itself in his forearm.

  "AAARGH!" the elf screamed, shoving me away and retreating.

  Apparently the black sword was far sharper than normal — before, I couldn't so much as scratch elven armor. And judging by the scream, he did feel pain after all. But the arm wound didn't stop him from fighting.

  Meanwhile, the mage had finally found a way to deal with her elf despite his magic immunity. She started using physical objects: first she tangled his legs with tree roots. The elf broke free fairly quickly each time, but the girl kept restraining him. Then, while he was immobilized, she conjured icicles from thin air. It didn't do much real damage, but I imagined getting pelted with dozens of impacts wasn't exactly pleasant.

  The situation shifted dramatically when the Lord Commander seriously wounded the hatton with his magical sword. I missed how it happened, but one of the elf's warriors immediately moved to cover their retreating commander.

  "Retreat," the elf leader ordered, then ran his right hand across his left gauntlet. Magical symbols ignited on it, and the next instant the long-ear vanished in a bolt of lightning. His comrades followed suit. Only the one-armed elf had trouble, but another comrade helped him.

  "That's it?!" the old man shouted at the sky. "Lousy cowards! Tch!"

  "Calm down, Grandfather," Katrina approached him, but he was still wired.

  I sank to the ground and tried, while no one was looking, to wipe the blood from my lips. Meanwhile, Katrina stepped away from the old man and leaned over me.

  "How are you?" She tried to keep her voice steady, but I noticed how tightly she was gripping her sword — as if ready to use it if she didn't like the answer.

  "I'll manage," I said. "Not planning to attack anyone."

  "Good." She nodded. Placing her hands first on my stomach, then my leg, Katrina used healing spells several times. I hadn't known she could do that. They didn't accomplish much, but they were for appearances. "How did you activate the elven sword?"

  "No idea. Probably a side effect of their blood."

  "I see. We'll discuss that later." With those words, the girl confiscated my sword, which reverted to its original color in her hands. I didn't even protest. It probably wasn't normal for a regular human to control elven artifacts.

  "What was all that?!" I addressed this not so much to Katrina as to her grandfather.

  "What did it look like? Did you miss the pointy ears?" He decided to be sarcastic. Apparently still bitter that they'd just up and left, killing a key witness in the process.

  "I saw them, but I still don't understand what happened! I have a mountain of questions!"

  But Lucius de Shinro couldn't have cared less. He was furious the elves had escaped. I was glad they'd left. I was almost certain they hadn't been fighting at full strength, despite the serious wounds. They'd probably wanted to take us alive. Well, everyone except me.

  The return trip was rough. Nearly the entire way back, I was plagued by side effects from the elven blood. It was clearly different from human blood, and my body was going through god knows what.

  There's a saying: you are what you eat. It applies to vampires to some degree, though not all of them realize it. High vampires can absorb memories, skills, and sometimes even the feelings of their victims through blood. And as a child, I'd been scared with the horror story that if you drank only one type of animal's blood, you'd eventually start resembling that animal. Valeesa and her jokes, damn her…

  But I'd definitely gained the ability to wield elven weapons. And something else. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what, but something unknown was happening in my body. At least I could still think clearly — unlike after the demon blood.

  "You look terrible," Katrina said, glancing at me.

  "Just need rest," I told her, feeling fire building inside. The power surge had long passed, leaving only pain and hunger that couldn't be suppressed.

  Luckily, Lord de Shinro hadn't noticed anything odd about my behavior or the sword's transformation. He seemed to have no interest in anything right now. Immediately after the fight, he'd retreated into his thoughts and hadn't said a word the entire way back.

  Upon return, Günther reported that four warriors from our squad were currently absent, one of whom was Agnish. The other three turned up drunk at a tavern near the estate. Apparently the celebration hadn't been enough for them. Given recent events, Katrina ordered thirty rod strikes each.

  Not wasting any time, I went straight to sleep. By then the internal changes had subsided, along with the pain — only crushing exhaustion remained.

  I was woken by the appearance of a pale, exhausted Gera.

  "Sorry for attacking you," she said, noticing I was awake. "It was all like some awful dream."

  "That wasn't you," I told her, rubbing my eyes.

  She nodded, seemingly satisfied with my answer, and I suddenly remembered the elf's words about Katrina.

  "Gera, what are duangs?"

  She flinched at the mention.

  "Why do you want to know?"

  "Just heard it in a conversation about elves, and I thought…"

  "That I'd know."

  "Yeah."

  "Duangs are lesser elves, ranked just slightly above humans in their hierarchy. Elves have a rigid caste system. There are Elder Houses, lesser houses, and duangs. The word literally means 'garbage' in their language. Satisfied?"

  "Yeah. Thanks."

  "Then get up. Katrina wants to see you." With that, the girl lay down on the other mattress and turned her back to me.

  I had to get up. Apparently I'd slept through the entire day, though I'd planned to wake around noon. The changes must have completed, and all I wanted now was food and water.

  But eating would have to wait — couldn't keep our "princess" waiting too long. I knocked on the door to the girl's quarters, waited for an answer, and entered. She was sitting at a small table reading some document… in a robe?! A plain gray robe, but… god, it looked sexy on her.

  "Sleep well?" the paladin asked, setting the parchment aside.

  "More than well," I answered, trying not to stare. "So how are things?"

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  "So-so. Grandfather is furious. The fact that Agnish was working for the elves tells us nothing. We needed whoever recruited him — someone in the Order's leadership."

  "Sorry to hear it."

  "Don't be. At least that's one problem solved." She grimaced, then asked another question. "Why did you drink elf blood?" Her tone was so sharp I flinched.

  "Because all my internal organs had been turned to hamburger," I answered irritably. "If it'd been anyone else in my place, you'd be mourning your second squire."

  "Ugh…" She shook her head. "Just so you know, you're taking huge risks. And putting me in a very difficult position."

  "Well, sorry for wanting to stay alive."

  She stared at me with displeasure for several moments, then softened slightly.

  "It's insane. If someone had told me six months ago that I'd be covering for a half-vampire, I'd have punched them in the face. Probably more than once."

  I didn't bother responding to that. What could I say? By this world's standards, I was just a dark creature that didn't deserve to live.

  "Better tell me what actually happened out there. You promised!" I reminded her.

  "Fine," the beauty grimaced. "Rub my shoulders. I'm exhausted."

  With that, the girl stepped from behind the table, sat on the bed, and slipped the robe slightly off her shoulders, baring her back.

  "Well?"

  "Right, sure…" I began carrying out orders. "You really are tense."

  While I worked her shoulders, I noticed again that she was more than met the eye. Despite her delicate appearance, she had practically steel cables for muscles under that skin.

  "You think?" After a brief pause, the girl answered my question. "Looks like Agnish was working for the elves."

  "I gathered that much. Only it doesn't make sense. You said the traitor tipped off the dark mages about your approach and they set a trap. Are elves cooperating with dark mages?"

  "Elves simultaneously cooperate with everyone and hate everyone. It's their nature. Their Elder Houses weave webs of conspiracies against each other and drag other nations into it."

  "I thought Trilor was at peace with them."

  "Peace? Don't make me laugh. The elves do whatever they want and get away with it. I'll let you in on a frightening secret that not many people know. Yundor's military might exceeds the Empire and Trilor combined."

  "What?!" That was genuinely shocking. Though after seeing those elves in action, it didn't seem so fantastical. Just five warriors — what if there'd been a hundred? A thousand? Without Katrina's grandfather, I think those five would've rolled over our entire squad.

  "Exactly."

  "Then… why haven't they conquered you?"

  "There are reasons. First — they don't need to. To them, we're ants. Nothing more. Second — who said we can't fight back? Both Trilor and the Empire possess magical weapons capable of bringing Yundor crashing down to earth. But its crash would cause devastating cataclysms, and the magical energy they've been accumulating for centuries would be released. The blast would most likely destroy most of the world."

  "Damn…" I murmured, trying not to stare at the appetizing curves visible beneath her robe. "But that explains a lot. It's what keeps the elves from going all-out."

  "Exactly. But it doesn't stop them from sabotaging us. They can leak information to our enemies, personally engineer Inferno breaches."

  "And an attempt on one of the Advisors is also normal?"

  "Yes and no. Most likely this was the initiative of an overconfident hatton. A hatton is a rank similar to mine — an elite warrior with a small squad under their command. But there are still plenty of officers above them. This elf was probably trying to advance his career by capturing not just valuable intelligence that could harm Trilor, but one of the Order of the Swallow's generals."

  "But he clearly overestimated himself."

  "Severely. He only had five warriors, and they didn't bring any powerful artifacts — they were clearly planning to take us alive. If someone serious had been running the operation, I doubt we'd have gotten off so easily."

  Her explanation helped me understand the situation better, but it didn't make me feel any safer. Yundor was genuinely formidable.

  "So why did my sword turn black?" I wanted to clear something up.

  "You're asking me?"

  "I mean — why does it get sharper when it turns black?"

  "Ah, that's what you're asking," she smirked. "Elves are poor at classical elemental magic. But they're masters of crafting artifacts. You saw their black armor yourself. Even a young elf who's never fought before becomes a fearsome force in armor like that."

  "No kidding. Regular weapons can't pierce it."

  "Right. You need either their own weapons or artifact weapons, like my grandfather's."

  "The glowing sword?"

  "Exactly. He received that weapon from the Advisors for loyal service to Trilor. They say there's no material it can't cut, though it does have drawbacks. It takes a long time to activate and a long time to recharge. But used correctly, it can accomplish a great deal."

  "I can imagine," I agreed. "Like cutting an opening through a fortress wall."

  "For instance," the beauty confirmed, slipping free of my hands. Standing up, she adjusted her robe and walked to a cabinet, from which she produced a bottle and two glasses. "Care to join me?"

  "Sure," I answered after a moment's thought.

  Smiling sweetly, Katrina returned to the bed, and I took the spot beside her. She filled a glass with red wine, handed it to me, then poured for herself. We each took a sip, after which she asked:

  "Well? What do you think?"

  "I'm no wine connoisseur, so it's hard to say," I answered honestly. "But it seems decent."

  "Good enough." After a short pause, she added: "I probably owe you an apology."

  "For what?"

  "For a lot of things." Her face made clear she didn't want to say this, but felt she had to. "I think I've piled too much on you. You barely arrived in this world and you're already a conscript forced to fight demons. Usually, people who join the Order have a choice. But you've had nothing but one disaster after another."

  "It's fine," I decided to cheer her up, and after a moment's thought, placed my hand on her shoulder. Thankfully, Katrina didn't object. In fact, she seemed to lean in slightly — though maybe that was my imagination.

  "What was he like?"

  "Who?" Katrina didn't follow.

  "Your previous squire," I clarified. "The one who died. I've heard about it."

  "Ah, you mean Dugo…" She sighed tiredly and took another drink. "Good kid. A bit like you, minus the dark past. We weren't strangers — he was the younger son of my tutor. Miss Kezim was strict but a good woman. She taught me history, arts, and many other subjects when I was a girl.

  About a year ago, when I was in the capital, we met and she asked me to take her son as my squire. I was against it at first, but she insisted. Dugo turned out to be a bright kid. He had everything he needed to become a knight someday. But… well."

  "That's really sad…" I lowered my eyes.

  "No — sad will be when I have to tell his mother that her son fell in battle. She still hasn't been told. I wanted to do it myself. But I'm scared. I'm scared to go home and look that woman in the eye."

  "Never thought you were afraid of anything," I said, and going a step further, put my arm around her shoulders. The girl didn't resist — if anything, it seemed like she wanted it.

  "I'm constantly afraid. Afraid of disgracing my family, afraid of losing my people in battle."

  "That's normal," I told her. "We have a saying — only the dead fear nothing."

  "Surprisingly good one," she smiled sadly, brushing away tears that had crept to her eyes. "Sorry. I don't usually let myself show emotions in front of others."

  "Sometimes you need to. People who keep their worries and fears bottled up too long eventually just break."

  "I don't understand what's so special about you," she suddenly asked, turning to face me and looking straight into my eyes.

  "What do you mean?" I was caught off guard.

  "Why do I feel comfortable around you? I don't even feel this way with Günther, and I've known him for years. But around you I feel good, and I can say things I usually keep locked deep inside. And I can't figure out why. If Dugo were sitting here instead of you, I don't think I could've cried in front of him."

  "Maybe because we share a secret, and you owe me your life?" I ventured.

  "Yes, quite possibly," she mused, though the answer didn't seem to satisfy her.

  I had an answer, of course, but I didn't dare voice it. No telling how she'd react. Movies often played with the idea that bonds form between a vampire and the one they turn — either friendship or passion. It existed in reality too, though the bonds were ephemeral and carried no obligation. It wasn't some mental link; rather, something like affinity emerged. I suspected it was tied to instincts. According to texts on the first vampires, they often lived in packs, and bonds helped them organize.

  What was more surprising was their appearance in Katrina, who couldn't be called a full vampire. I was nearly certain these were bonds. After all, I'd started feeling something for her after the rescue too. And that kiss? I still didn't understand why I'd done it. If the first kiss and her acceptance could be chalked up to stress, the second one — which she'd initiated — wasn't so easily explained.

  The girl turned, setting her glass on the floor and looking into my eyes, and in the next instant our lips met. I didn't even understand how, but suddenly we were kissing with such passion it took my breath away.

  Pressing against each other, we tumbled onto the bed without breaking the kiss. I pulled away only to start kissing her slender neck.

  "A-ahh…" she moaned softly, breaking the kiss for an instant. "We can't… you and I…"

  But I had no intention of releasing her from my arms. And she wasn't exactly trying very hard, despite her words.

  Knock. Knock. Knock.

  How desperately I wanted that to be just my heartbeat. But no — someone was at the door.

  It was like a bucket of cold water over both of us.

  "Sweetheart, it's me. Are you still awake?" came the voice of Commander de Shinro.

  Katrina threw me off, leaped to her feet, and immediately set about fixing her robe and disheveled hair. Then she gestured for me to hide under the bed, which I refused. Absolutely not! What was I, some lover hiding from a cuckolded husband?

  Katrina shook her fist at me, but ultimately sighed and went to open the door.

  When the grandfather walked in and saw me, he gave his granddaughter a questioning look.

  "I'm disappointed in you, Katrina."

  "I don't want to hear it," she said firmly at once. "I simply called him in for a conversation. Wanted to clarify a few details."

  "Of course. That's exactly why there's a wine bottle and two glasses lying on the bed," he snorted. "You don't need to justify yourself to me. You're an adult and free to do as you please. Just don't mix personal relationships with work. That can end badly."

  Then he fixed me with his trademark stare, which sent my soul plummeting to my heels. Even my father's gaze — a vampire centuries old — had scared me less than this grandfather's.

  "I came to tell you I'm leaving in the morning. It seems your vampires were spotted in a neighboring county a couple of days ago. Good chance of catching them."

  "Thank you for your help," the girl said softly, hugging her relative.

  "It's nothing, sweetheart," he patted her back. "You know I'll help you in any situation. We're family."

  "Mm-hm."

  "And what are your plans?"

  "My business here is done. Demons killed, dark mages dealt with. So I'll probably head to Kadral, drop off the recruits, and pick up new assignments. Unlike you, I can't just do whatever I want all the time. We've been stuck here too long — time to move."

  "Alright, I'll go. Get some rest. And be careful with that young man — he's not as simple as he seems."

  "I know," she said. "Thanks for caring."

  With that, Lord de Shinro departed, and the girl and I were alone again.

  "Shall we continue?" I asked.

  "No," she answered seriously. "That was a mistake. I called you here to talk. We talked. Now go to sleep."

  Damn that old man! I didn't even try to hide my disappointment at how things had ended.

  "We really should keep our distance," Katrina said as I reached the door. "I'm the captain of this squad, and you're my squire. A relationship like this is wrong."

  "Maybe you're right," I sighed, stepping out in deep disappointment. Almost at my closet door, I sensed someone behind me. Turning, I saw Katrina's grandfather.

  When had he—?

  Without a word, he grabbed me by the throat and literally slammed me into the wall. I tried to break his grip, but despite my vampiric strength, I couldn't. The man was like an immovable boulder. And he was human! Where did that monstrous strength come from?

  "I don't know what you are, Maximilian Gothard, but I'm warning you — if anything happens to Katrina because of you, your death will be long and agonizing."

  He said nothing more. Simply released me and walked away, leaving me gasping for air.

  That was terrifying. And completely unexpected.

  While I was recovering, the door nearby creaked open and a certain short-haired someone poked her head out.

  "What did you do to make Lord Commander de Shinro so angry?" Gera asked with total indifference.

  "Oh, just… stuff," I answered, still reeling from the shock. It felt like someone had shoved a pot over my head and clanged it with a ladle.

  "I see," she said, and disappeared back into the room.

  Strange girl.

  After sitting there a couple more minutes, I decided not to go back in. Instead, I went downstairs and out to the back courtyard. Training was long over by that point, but I didn't care. Taking several deep breaths, I started running. After a dozen laps around the estate, I grabbed a training sword.

  After what had happened with Katrina, everything inside me was churning. After her grandfather's threat, my emotions had boiled over, and I needed to release them somehow. Besides…

  Stronger! I had to get stronger to survive in this world!

  This was a wrong world. Completely wrong, and populated by genuine monsters. And I was saying that as a half-vampire! So far I'd been lucky, but what if I encountered an opponent so powerful they'd flatten me without blinking? Given the situations I'd been stumbling into lately, it was only a matter of time.

  I had no confidence that these training sessions would actually help, but it was all I could do. That, and the magic lessons Günther had promised but never delivered on because of the whole traitor situation.

  I'd have to remind him.

  "Training?" Rol walked up, and come to think of it, I hadn't seen him all day.

  "Yeah."

  "Mind if I join?"

  "Not at all."

  Grinning, the kid ran off and returned in a couple of minutes with a wooden sword. Copying my stance, he began mirroring my movements like last time.

  "Hands higher, Max!" came a shout from somewhere above, and turning my head, I spotted Katrina on the balcony. "You're not only doing it wrong yourself — you're confusing the others too! Yes! That's better!"

  The golden-haired beauty I'd been caressing twenty minutes ago watched our training for a couple of minutes, then disappeared into her quarters.

  This time Rol managed far more swings than last session, but it was still less than half of mine.

  "You amaze me, Max…" Rol collapsed tiredly onto the grass and, tilting his head back, gazed at the stars. "You're so strong and tough. You've personally killed two whole demons! I envy you… I really do."

  "Not much to envy," I sighed, catching my breath. Coming within an inch of death multiple times wasn't exactly a treat. I'd rather have the quiet, peaceful life I'd lived before. Just go to classes, eat instant ramen for lunch, study boring subjects.

  Lived… had I really been living? Or merely existing?

  Strange thoughts.

  Hard to admit, but in the past few weeks I'd experienced more emotions than in my entire life. After fighting demons and elves, even the "vampire world" that my father had shown me at twelve stopped feeling special. Back then I thought I'd seen it all. Now I understood how wrong I'd been.

  And I was afraid this world still had plenty more surprises in store.

  But I felt alive. Truly alive.

  "I bet a gold coin you'd be screaming if you were in my shoes."

  "Highly doubt it," Rol grinned. "If I were in your shoes, I'd wake up every morning with Gera on one shoulder and Lady Katrina on the other."

  "Dream bigger, why don't you," I laughed.

  "Nothing wrong with dreaming," he shrugged. "But seriously, my dream is to become a knight someday. Maybe even a paladin, though that's unlikely — you need at least basic magical abilities for that. Then buy an estate somewhere in Trilor and find a girl with boobs thiiiis big!" He demonstrated the size with his hands.

  "Don't say stuff like that," I shook my head, glancing at him. "You sound like a movie character who gets killed five minutes later."

  "A movie?" He didn't understand what I meant.

  "Well… it's like theater. You know what theater is?"

  "Yeah! Traveling performers?"

  "Something like that. Or like a character in an adventure novel."

  "A novel…" Rol sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, I've never read a book. Honestly, I can't read at all."

  "How's that?" I was somewhat surprised.

  "I'm a farmer's son. Mom and Dad didn't know their letters, and there was no money for a tutor."

  "I'd offer to help," I thought about it, "but I only know your written language because of the Tower's power, and I process it passively. I understand what's written, but I can't explain why it's written that way or what the rules are."

  "Don't worry about it," he smiled. "Not worth the trouble. Recruits get taught reading and writing."

  "And cartography," added a female voice from somewhere to the side. "Order soldiers need to be able to produce both maps and reports when necessary. They're not just fighters — they're scouts too."

  It was Gera. The girl was dressed in travel pants and a plain shirt, holding a training sword.

  "Mind if I join you?"

  "Of course not," I smiled.

  At dawn, Lucius de Shinro departed with his squad, and I breathed a sigh of relief. But I wasn't allowed to fully relax. The moment he was gone, Katrina announced we were packing up. The next day the squad was to leave the estate and head for Trilor, so we needed to prepare for a long journey.

  The work kicked into high gear. Five large wagons — similar to the one the merchant with guards had been using when he picked me up — were quickly brought to the estate. Everything started getting loaded methodically: equipment, provisions, various supplies. Günther supervised it all, meticulously recording what was loaded and in what quantity.

  "Maximilian, come here," Katrina called, overseeing the organized chaos. The recruits weren't involved, only occasionally helping with heavy loads. Otherwise they huddled off to the side, discussing what the future held.

  "What is it?"

  "Something arrived for you. Check it," she said, nodding toward a separate wooden crate, then returned to supervising.

  Not wanting to distract her further, I went to see what had been delivered. And imagine my surprise when I found my lost belongings. Jeans, warm jacket, t-shirt. And… sneakers! God, how I'd missed real shoes. I wanted to put them on right then and there.

  Besides my clothes, there were a couple of unfamiliar garments — probably something from the smuggler-merchant. My backpack was there too, though a couple of books were missing. But nobody had wanted the smartphone. Probably because the battery was completely dead, making it just a mysterious useless object.

  "So — everything there?" Katrina returned.

  "No, but nothing truly valuable is missing. Just a couple of books that are useless here anyway. No idea who'd even want them. I'm the only one in this world who reads Russian."

  "And otherwise?"

  "Otherwise it's all here," I answered, closing the crate. "Everything except the money."

  "You'll get your money. Relax," she smiled.

  "The sooner the better. I still haven't gotten either of my first two bonuses."

  "Once we reach Trilor. They'll compensate you for everything there, I promise."

  "I've heard that before," I snorted.

  "You're so distrustful."

  "Günther!" I grabbed the mage as he was finishing his weapons inventory. Torig, still with his arm in a sling, was assisting.

  "What do you want?" he asked, mildly irritated.

  "You promised to teach me magic!"

  "What? Right now?"

  "The sooner the better!" I declared firmly. Otherwise we'd keep putting it off forever.

  "This evening," the mage waved me off, returning to his duties. I stood there glaring at him for a moment, then left. But only to return that evening. They'd decided to depart in the morning after the soldiers had gotten a good night's sleep.

  Opening the door after my knock and seeing me on the threshold, Günther sighed and told me to come in. First, he asked me to remove my shirt, which I did without question, having a rough idea why. The mage placed his hands on my chest, and I felt a light tingling at the point of contact.

  "Good heavens!" he exclaimed, staring at me in amazement.

  "What?"

  "Your internal mana reservoir."

  "Something wrong with it?" I frowned, bracing for bad news.

  "That's the thing — no." He scratched the back of his head. "It's fully formed, even though a couple of weeks ago you didn't have one at all."

  "Is that weird?"

  "That's putting it mildly. It's abnormal! Internal vessel formation is an extremely slow process — a year at minimum. But even if I accept that this abnormal rapid formation is possible, I can't explain why your vessel is the size of my fist!"

  "It's what?!"

  "Figuratively speaking, of course, but that's the gist. My teacher, Yuhanes, often measured vessels that way. Your internal volume after formation shouldn't exceed a fingernail. But somehow it exceeds mine. And I have no idea how that's even possible!"

  "So that means I'm a way stronger mage than you?" I was surprised, and immediately received a smack upside the head.

  "What was that for?!"

  "For talking nonsense. A mage's strength isn't determined by capacity alone. I've met plenty of mages with enormous mana reserves who burned out after a handful of spells. Know why? Because they didn't know how to spend it efficiently! Your current volume could power a hundred spells, but only if you know how to manage energy. Right now, you'd probably blow through it all after three or four uses."

  "Fine, where do I start?" I got straight to business, pulling my shirt back on.

  "Let's see…" The mage thought for a moment, walked off, and returned with a sheet of paper and a quill. He quickly sketched several magical symbols and handed it to me.

  "These are blank spells. Normally they're used to train internal capacity, but in your case you need to learn control."

  "Yeah, I saw descriptions of these in the book you gave me. But I never understood what to actually do with them."

  "Fill the drawings with your energy."

  "And how exactly do I do that?" I asked, staring blankly at the paper.

  "That's not really a question for me. Every mage has their own methods of controlling internal energy. Remember how you formed the 'core' in your chest, and try to project that onto the paper."

  "How will I know it worked?"

  "The symbol will glow. Those are special inks that can hold mana. And don't come running to me the moment it works. When you can fill a drawing with magic in two heartbeats, then come see me."

  He touched his finger to one of the drawings, and it instantly flared.

  "Whoa!"

  "Don't worry — you'll learn to do that too. This part I'm sure of."

  I spent the entire remaining day until lights-out fiddling with that paper, but I still couldn't make the symbols glow. I did, however, end up as exhausted as if I'd run ten kilometers through an obstacle course. And in the morning, we set off.

  Our squad was to travel through several counties, enter Trilor proper, and from there head to the Order of the Swallow headquarters. The recruits didn't get horses — they were simply loaded into the wagons. Gera and I didn't escape that fate either. And I wasn't remotely surprised when Rol ended up in our wagon.

  "So? Can you feel it? We're practically in Trilor already!" the kid announced with undisguised excitement.

  "We haven't even left the city yet," I smirked.

  "Do what you want. I'm sleeping," Gera declared, and shamelessly laid her head on my shoulder.

  "I envy you, man!" Rol clapped me on the other shoulder.

  I didn't bother responding. Just closed my eyes, planning to nap as well. The road ahead was a long one.