Aleks Kotov
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Vol 6, Chapter 8
🕑 Added 2025-08-21 19:59:32 +0000 UTCSunlight played on the golden saucer, but the cheese lying on it did not look any more appetizing. Most aristocrats would have considered the bluish mold growing on it a sign of refinement, but for me, mold on food was a mark of spoilage. And alas, no golden dishware could change that.
The dining hall was empty, save for its master sitting at the far end of the long table. No guards, no servants. But I could sense that human presence was unnecessary for security. The hall was so saturated with enchantments that if I had dared to test them all, I would have been killed in dozens of different ways.
Correction: the spells would try to kill me in dozens of ways.
The master of the castle, and of the longest table I had ever seen, was graciously partaking of his meal. That annoyed me all the more, since I had no desire to waste time.
"You're missing out by not trying the cheese. This sort is not usually offered to guests. It's made from manticore's milk, which means it's not only exquisite but also beneficial to one's Gift," advised the Second Duke, pointing to the cheese with a two-pronged fork.
Calmly, I took up a silver knife, cut off the bluest, most mold-covered piece, wrapped it neatly in a napkin, and slipped it into the pocket of my doublet. I had no mold of the magical kind in my collection yet… Hopefully, this won't turn out to be that very mold, otherwise cultivating it will be a real nightmare. I didn't even want to imagine how much manticore milk cost, but given that those beasts could not be tamed, the price was surely in the dozens, if not hundreds, of gold coins.
"For alchemical experiments," I explained.
"I've heard as much, yes. If you wish, I could offer you access to my dungeon: there you would surely find what you need."
"Thank you, but I'll decline. I would, however, gladly accept samples."
The host set aside his fork and pushed away the tray.
"Alas, this talk of mold has killed my appetite. Still, I must admit, your new hobby looks far more harmless than your old one."
I raised a questioning brow.
"Scraping mold from walls is far more innocent than scraping flesh from peasants' bones, is it not?" The Second Duke's gaze drilled into me.
I winced. Pages of history I would rather not recall. Foolish of me to hope no one would ever uncover Randall's past sins.
"So yes, your new image appeals to me more. But allow me one small piece of advice… you overplay it. Collecting mold from walls I could believe, but that business with the manticore… alas, my only response is 'I don't believe you.'"
"What's the point of all this? Did you invite me here just to accuse me of hypocrisy?"
"The point is that you understand… I remember what kind of man you are. Unlike your grandfather, you are calculating, cold-hearted, selfish, and without principle. In short: a man who can be bargained with."
"And what bargain do you have in mind?"
"For now, none. At present you lack the standing for us to truly negotiate. But in the future… Thus, I merely wish to ensure that you correctly understand a few matters. For the future, so to speak."
"I'm listening."
"First point: the contradictions between us are not as great as those with the First Duke. More than that, I am your natural ally. I could help you far more than you imagine. Only one small, small detail darkens our future alliance."
"The Klaus's?"
"The Klaus's." He nodded. "Your grandfather personally shouldered those obligations, to the King's applause. But think—do they matter to you? Who is your grandfather's wife to you? She is neither kin by blood nor kin by spirit. The Klaus's are a house of warriors, not scholars. Have you ever spoken to her? I doubt it. When the time comes and your grandfather's widow approaches you, you must know you will have two choices: either stand between the hammer and the anvil of two duchies, or have the guarantee that the anvil will become your shield. All I ask is your neutrality. Not so much, is it?"
I shrugged noncommittally. I had no intention of risking myself for the Klaus's, but on the other hand, why not assist a potential ally? It all depended on the circumstances when the conflict arose. I feared I might simply have more pressing concerns.
"A good offer, but I'm afraid even a grandmother-duchess who is not truly my kin would be a more reliable ally than you."
"Quite frank," the Second Duke chuckled, folding his hands. "In that case, I too will be frank. Your House is nothing more than a beetle flying into the path of a charging horseman. Our collision may be unpleasant for me, but it will be fatal for you. And most importantly, it serves no purpose: the beetle will not throw the rider off his course, it will only stain his armor. So abandon your dreams. The Third Duchy will be destroyed, I swear it. And remember this… it is better to have the Second Duchy as an unreliable ally than as a reliable enemy."
How frightening, pfft. I leaned back in my chair and absentmindedly checked the sharpness of the silver knife I had used to cut the cheese.
"Such a confident oath. But suppose the following happens: we reconcile with the First Duke, his troops gather at your border, and by the time the Third falls, not only will we be drawn into the struggle for the title, but the King himself will lend his support. What then?"
"It seems you do not understand. The fall of the entire elder branch of the Klaus's is, for me, a matter of principle. You seem to think I merely wish to expand my lands? My Duchy is already the richest in the Kingdom. I am not the First, mindlessly grabbing everything he can. This is not about land." He lifted his glass and sipped his wine. "As you know, my wife is from the younger branch… but that was not always so. She was exiled from the elder branch into the younger. She was unjustly deprived of all the privileges due by right of birth. And now she is Duchess, and her greatest wish is to prove that the Klaus's were wrong in their approach to heirs."
I rolled his words on my tongue. Half-truths tickled my thoughts. Justice, was it? Just banal revenge. Still, I already saw the lie—he was trying to convince me that compromise was impossible, yet…
"Yet you still have not attacked the Third Duchy. You're waiting for the Third Duke to die. What about vengeance?"
"To kill a senile old man who soils himself? He is already a living corpse. There is no point in avenging myself on him. Our true revenge will be in the complete destruction of his life's work."
"Afraid that the whole Klaus family might forget their squabbles and stand united if you attack now?" I prodded.
"Highly unlikely," he scoffed. But I understood he at least considered the possibility.
No. Not it. I casually tossed the knife onto the table. His motive hovered in the air like a tangle of web waiting to be unraveled. Why was he trying to dissuade us from involvement if it was so useless, by his own words? He spoke of my grandfather's death with certainty, as if it were a fact. He hinted at the future, yet I knew he aimed for the position of regent—or even King. King…
"I see you…" The Duke began, but I cut him off with a wave of my hand.
He stared at me in bewilderment, slowly reddening with anger.
"How dare you!"
"Heir."
His flushed face quickly turned pale.
"What… do you mean?" he stammered.
"Ha-ha. So that's it." I laughed in satisfaction. The knot was unraveled, everything fell into place. "You mentioned that the Duchess was cast into the younger branch. Obviously, such things are not done without reason. But what reason could there be, other than insufficient magical power? The whole kingdom knows your wife is one of the strongest warriors, but… how strong is she as a mage? I'll wager a sack of gold that, as a mage, she is weaker than even me."
The Duke's pale face hardened.
"Go on."
"From there, it's simple. You have no children. Isn't it because they would be… too weak? If the mother is weak, they will never reach the level of Archmage, no matter how many magical enhancements or rituals are performed. Just one question: why have you not remarried?"
"Because I love her," he answered simply, throwing me off.
Love, then. Curious. And it was the truth—otherwise he would have solved his problem by making her his mistress. Love among the high aristocracy, where everything was calculation…
"Why have you fallen silent? Continue." The Duke smiled menacingly, stroking his imposing beard.
And then I realized I should have held my tongue. For the conclusions that let me piece it all together were far more dangerous than the nuances of his personal life. I stroked the revolver at my side; the cold of the metal calmed me.
Ah, to hell with it. If it came to it, I would simply kill him and be done. By the end of the month, the Kingdom would be in chaos anyway, and no one would care about me.
"Of course, why not continue?" I grinned brazenly. "All these years, you certainly longed for the Third Duchy and of course sought revenge for your wife, but you never rushed headlong, since your problem wasn't critical. A Duke's heir may be weak, yet your Duchy is rich and strong enough to endure even a weak heir. Yes, the Duchy's power would decline. Perhaps the Second Duchy would become the weakest among the Duchies, but it would survive. But everything changed. The King's heir… that is something else entirely."
I could feel the Second gathering magical power for a strike. Fine. Let him. I was ready.
"Oh yes, if you became King, the House of Klaus's would become the royal house. The most numerous house, with many powerful members—it would be a nightmare in the future, especially if the heir were weak. For then any of them would, by law, have a claim to the throne. So yes, I understand your desire to eliminate the threat beforehand. Now I believe you truly meant it—that the destruction not only of the Third Duchy but of the entire Klaus's line is a matter of principle."
The hall was silent. I picked up a glass of wine from the table, saluted, and drank. An excellent blend.
"What a pity the wine isn't poisoned, don't you think?" I smirked, holding the glass in one hand and the revolver's grip in the other.
The silence of the hall was broken by sparse applause. Clap-clap-clap.
"You truly are nothing like your grandfather," the Duke said, finishing his clapping.
""Return the money. We both know these troops will never set foot on Condor land. In truth, I don't even need them. Your spies are good enough—you'll find out soon enough." I demanded. If I was going to be brazen, I might as well go all the way.
"I see, I see… So, what am I to do with you now?"
"You could try to kill me, but I am one of those steel beetles that pierce riders through. Go ahead."
The magical tension quickly dissipated.
"Oh no. You are more like a stinking bedbug," the Duke muttered. "How about dessert?"
He rang a bell and servants entered the hall. I kept them in sight, but they merely left plates of airy pastries and departed.
The Duke calmly resumed his meal.
"I admit, you caught me off guard… and I am impressed. Yet upon reflection, I realized that killing you changes nothing. Surely you already warned your grandfather of these new circumstances before coming here…"
Oops. I nodded gravely, making a mental note to be sure to inform my grandfather of everything.
"… In the end, it changes nothing. Everything will proceed just as it was planned. I hope you will consider my offer—it still stands. Do not interfere with my extermination of the Klaus's, and we will be allies."
"Alas, I can promise nothing."
He sighed.
"Very well. A gift from me awaits you outside: a hundred magical amulets."
"Which will explode the moment I approach them?" I barely held back a smile.
"No. They don't even have cores. Simple amulets: cool in summer, warm in winter. Powered by ambient mana. An irreplaceable aid for knights."
"And why such generosity?"
"The First Duke will be my greatest problem when I become King. He will not support my coronation through the Commonwealth, so it would be useful if he wasted part of his forces trying to seize your lands. As I said—we are natural allies. I would help with more, but right now I need every drop of strength. So accept my gift and remember that I will be a just ruler. There is no reason for us to be enemies… On the contrary, I could use an advisor with your mind at court. What do you say?"
"I prefer doing to advising."
"A pity. I hope you reconsider." With a wave of his hand, Thorn von Steiger made it clear the conversation was over.
Surprisingly, the crate of amulets really was waiting for me outside.
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◆ Renvel, Alchemists' Guild, Apprentice Alchemist Keo's POV. ◆
"Keo, wake up, Keo!" The alchemist's apprentice, reeking of chemicals, shook his older friend. Even his skin was gray from the fumes.
"Let… me sleep. I scrubbed cauldrons all night," Keo muttered, rolling over.
The wretched bunk, cobbled together from old shelves, creaked obnoxiously.
The Renvel Alchemists' Guild hardly cared for the comfort of its apprentices. The mere permission to assist alchemists and absorb their wisdom was considered a great privilege.
"Get up! A visiting master has arrived at the guild!"
"So what? We already have masters. Ow!" Keo yelped as his friend, tired of shaking him, gave him a sharp kick in the backside.
"Get up or I'll pour slime over your head! You won't believe what he's doing!"
Ten minutes later, a drowsy Keo was climbing out of the storerooms that doubled as apprentice dormitories, into the main hall.
The main hall was unusually crowded. It seemed as though every alchemist had left his work to come down. Even on the upper tiers there was a crush, the air buzzing with noise, apprentices darting everywhere. Elbowing through and bowing respectfully to journeymen, the pair pushed toward the center.
A long line before the master blocked the view. Keo slipped between arguing alchemists to a column and deftly climbed it. At any other time, punishment would have followed, but today no one paid him any mind.
"That's the visiting master?" he said in disappointment to his friend.
In Keo's view, a master had to be a gray-bearded elder, not a young aristocrat.
"Look closer— even masters are sending their apprentices to him!"
Keo squinted. Indeed, though there wasn't a single master in line, journeymen and apprentices were coming down from the upper floor regularly. They went straight to the strange alchemist, bypassing the queue, and whispered something to him. Within minutes the apprentice would bolt back to his master, looking utterly stunned by the answer.
Casting a furtive glance around, Keo climbed higher, toward the masters' gallery.
"…his knowledge is not from our Kingdom! This master studied in the Commonwealth!"
"No, I've been to the Commonwealth—his knowledge surpasses even that…"
Keo quickly slid down before anyone noticed. The most important thing he had caught: the visitor wasn't a charlatan.
Meanwhile, the line did not shrink. Even a few masters came down from the upper floor, and apprentices and journeymen immediately stepped aside to let them through. Keo slipped in deftly and ended up right behind a master.
Though he had been a journeyman for several years, his own master hardly burdened himself with teaching duties, preferring to burden Keo with scrubbing cauldrons, flasks, and cutting ingredients. And though Keo carefully watched the potion-making process when allowed, he had accumulated many questions.
"Meister, I have a question. For months I've been struggling with the recipe for a speed potion. Look—the goblin hemlock refuses to react with the mixture, no matter what I do!"
Keo tried to peek at the scroll, but it had already been handed to the visiting master. The aristocrat glanced over it and immediately returned it.
"Squeeze out the juice before use, and add it in three portions, cooling the mixture to room temperature each time, then add the pulp. If you add it all at once, cooling is useless—the released heat will ruin the solution."
"Thank you, Meister, I have another question—"
"Enough. That's all." The aristocrat rose from the table and stretched his legs.
Keo ground his teeth in frustration. He had almost reached the end of the line!
"Silence!" the aristocrat called loudly, and the noise in the hall instantly fell quiet. "I think everyone is convinced of my competence. I need alchemists. I do not promise high pay, I do not promise mountains of gold. But I promise something far more valuable. I promise knowledge. Within a few years, each of you will reach an understanding of simple substances and the structure of the world such as you have never dreamed of. I do not need those who crave only to work with powerful magical ingredients. I need those who seek strength in simple substances, and I swear I will show it to you."
On the second floor came condescending chuckles. Masters who had spent their lives studying magical ingredients curled their lips in disdain. Work with weak materials? Nonsense—contrary to their whole path of Alchemy.
The noise grew again, but stopped when the aristocrat placed a small cloth pouch on the table. Keo leaned forward. Coins? Gold?
A click, and sparks scattered from the pouch. In an instant sparks multiplied, purple smoke rose. Bang! The pouch exploded, showering the area with colorful sparks.
"No magic. Not a single magical ingredient," the aristocrat declared, while alchemists waved their sleeves at the smoke and shook their heads.
"Tricks for uneducated peasants," snorted the alchemist who had just asked about the recipe.
The aristocrat sensed it and turned to the apprentices.
"I do not need the ossified and arrogant. I need those who are open and willing to learn. Tell me, what will you choose: to follow me into a new world, or keep scrubbing cauldrons for crumbs of knowledge?"
Keo's hand shot up first.
Comments
LOLZMAN
I do like his argument for the alchemist of sure you can use powerful reactants but that's easy all you have to do is not fuck up with them but what is a greater show of skill and knowledge then creating magical effects from non magical reactants.
Johan Timmers
Tftc
MrBones
Did you have a fun time with your cousin?
HF3d3d HF3d3dHF3d3d
My cousin came to visit me, so I had to translate the chapter at night...
