Aleks Kotov
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Vol 5, Chapter 19
🕑 Added 2025-08-14 10:40:30 +0000 UTC"And what if I refuse?" I said slowly, weighing my options.
Could I even kill a mage of his level with a regular pistol, or would I need something stronger?
The Rector smiled pleasantly, but there was ice in his eyes. "Well, why refuse, when you're being asked politely?"
He clapped his hands, and the crowd began to disperse quickly.
"In that case… I can politely refuse." I gave the slightest nod of my head in place of a bow and tried to blend into the retreating crowd.
Or rather, fleeing?
Only for my way to be blocked by his staff.
"Not so fast." The Rector was still trying to smile, but his trademark kindly-grandfather grin had twisted into a grimace.
"Fine, I'll leave slowly." I began edging around the staff-barrier. No way was I going to duck under that magic stick. What if the old man whacked me across the back with it?
"Only after you answer our questions," he barked, the smile vanishing completely.
Flames burst from the staff, cutting off my path in an instant.
A few onlookers tried to linger and watch, but wiser companions pulled them away.
The space around us emptied.
"If I'll still be able to walk afterward, then why not," I said, hands in my pockets, facing the mage.
Could I push through the fire? Maybe. But first, I needed to know what he actually wanted.
"What are you up to?"
"What I'm up to?" I raised an eyebrow.
He nodded solemnly.
"Hmm… nothing?"
"Nothing, you say… And breaking into a restricted facility also counts as 'nothing'? What did you offer Nala to let you in, and what were you after?"
"Absolutely nothing. She dragged me there herself."
"Of course," he said with a disbelieving click of his tongue.
I just shrugged. What could I do if that's how it had happened?
"Why don't you ask her yourself?"
"Nala has been avoiding me for days, ignoring messages. So you'll have to answer for her."
"I'm afraid that even if I wanted to, I couldn't explain her motives."
"We'll see about that. Soon enough, your only desire will be to tell us every possible guess, no matter how wild, as to why she acted that way."
He signaled, and a pair of his lackeys began to slowly encircle me.
"Ah, torture. Won't there be problems if you take a member of the delegation and subject him to torment just because your daughter stopped talking to you?"
"No one will make a fuss over such a minor incident involving an insignificant member of the delegation. And there won't be any torture, just a heart-to-heart talk. Physically, you'll be returned to the ambassador completely intact… but it's quite likely that from then on, your bed will be wet at night. And not just from the cold sweat brought by endless nightmares…"
"Sounds fascinating, but I think I'd prefer to sleep peacefully." I pulled out a ring, slid it onto my middle finger, and showed it to him.
"A second ring?" He frowned, signaling his goons to halt.
"Straight from the King's hand."
"I see. Tell Robert not to do that again. There can only be one head of the delegation, and he should remember that. You're just guests here."
"How to act or not act is for him to decide, as the head of a neighboring country."
"Of course, of course." He smirked, nodding at the ring. "That won't stop me if I decide listening to Robert's whining is worth getting truthful answers."
"And? Is it worth it?" I asked.
After a brief pause, he shook his head.
"Let's start from the beginning. What does Robert want?"
"The same as before. For the agreements to be honored."
The Rector drew his staff back to himself and seemed deep in thought.
"Why did you decide to cancel the wedding?" I asked, seizing the chance.
"Tell Robert to stay out of it. Let him wait, a year earlier or later—what's the difference? We'll marry off his fool when it's convenient."
"Was Nala against postponing it?"
"Are you implying she… No. Nonsense. She's been against the whole idea from the start."
"Is that so? That's not how it seemed to me."
"Impossible! However…" He gestured for me to come closer.
I put a hand on my sword's hilt and stepped up.
"If her motives aren't as pure as they should be, we'd be better off as allies than enemies. Find out what she really wants, and perhaps I'll help," he said quietly, then turned, his fine robes swirling.
Moments later, his henchmen followed him.
In a minute, the arena was empty.
I took out a scroll and quickly wrote to Nala, asking to meet. The Rector's words about her opposing the idea not long ago didn't sit well with me.
I didn't have much ink left. I reread the message, something nagging at me… But…
"Marvin, Marvin! I found an empty arena—what luck! Bring him here quickly, before someone else takes it!"
Noticing me, Ashley waved. "Good afternoon, Viscount Randal. Everything alright with you?"
I brushed off my suit; scorch marks weren't so visible on black. My hair, though, sticking out in all directions, refused to be tamed.
"I'm fine. And it's proper to give the surname after the title, not the first name."
"Oh, sorry. I'll remember." She gave an awkward bow, then started hopping in place, waving her arms. "Come on, this way!"
At the arena entrance stood a massive cargo wagon drawn by four stone golems. And amusingly, the cargo was also a golem—this one made of steel.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming…" Marvin grumbled, trying to turn the wagon.
The four golems marched in step, hauling their cargo onto the arena.
"Unload!" Ashley commanded.
The wagon tilted, at first a little, then more and more. With a screech, the golem slid down into the sand, raising dust with its two heavy feet.
"Interesting system," I commented approvingly on the magical jack.
"Yes, great idea, right? I suggested fitting all wagons with it, but they said it was too rough for fragile materials. Though the folks at the preserve liked it…"
Clang! The golem's right arm detached from the forearm and fell beside its feet.
"Oops," she said. "Marvin, couldn't you be more careful?"
"I did everything the same as always. Something's wrong with your system again," he grumbled.
"What could be wrong? It's as simple as two sticks! You messed up somewhere!"
"Won't you get in trouble for breaking a golem?" I cut in before they started arguing again.
"Oh, no. It's fine. That's how it's supposed to be."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Well… almost. The golem isn't powered by the core yet, so its limbs are just held in place by mounts. Once we power it up, it'll be fine… We just need to put the arm back. Could you help? It's too heavy for me alone."
No surprise—it looked heavy. I ran my unburned hand over the steel casing. A complex construction inside, all crystals and gold-carved circuits. If I tried to lift it my usual way, I'd wreck it completely.
So I did it differently. I reshaped my sword into a hook, latched it to the golem's head, and ran a taut cable between.
"We'll lift, you set it in place."
"Uh, okay. Marvin, let's go!" she said, shoving him toward the cable.
"Why not just wait for an earth mage…" he muttered.
"Come on, show your strength!"
"Fine…"
Our muscles strained, palms stung, but we hauled the arm to shoulder height. Ashley aligned it, and it clicked into place.
"There's a gap," I pointed to a centimeter-wide space in the joint.
"It's supposed to be there!" she insisted.
I reformed my sword while she fiddled with the golem's back.
A spark, a deep hum, and its sunken head's eyes lit up.
"There, all set. One last check, and we'll go to the tournament from here. Hopefully, they won't scold us too much for the damaged tiles… Sir Viscount, want to test it in a fight?"
"Does it have any special features?"
"Well, I combined control modes. Mostly manual, from this cabalistic board," she waved a tablet-sized plank, "but it can also assess threats on its own and strike or dodge. Cool, right?"
"I told her it's a bad idea," Marvin muttered.
"It is a bad idea," I agreed, for another reason. "What if it interferes with the handler's control?"
"I accounted for that! Handler commands always have top priority!"
"And if it kills an opponent?"
"Well… handlers don't hold back either. This is the tournament—deaths happen."
As if on cue, a cheer rose from the nearby amphitheater.
Marvin shook his head. "I still think we should turn it off. I can already hear the handler blaming your tweaks for losing."
"When do they ever win? They're just warm-up acts. And you're the reason I have to do this."
"Me?"
"Yes! You don't want to go to the Kingdom, so we need to get the magister's. attention or we'll stay stuck in this workshop."
"Why… We've got a quiet life. Why stir trouble?"
"Let's see the world, make money!"
"No, too dangerous."
"Everything's dangerous to you!"
"What can your golem do, exactly?" I asked.
"Oh, lots. For example, it can see warm objects. Not well, but better if you freeze its eyes! Don't ask why—I don't know. Regular golems just sense magic around them."
"And if I do this?" I elongated my sword, sealed its eyes in metal—instant stylish steel shades. Now it couldn't see at all.
"Marvin!" Ashley suddenly turned on him. "And you say a spider isn't the perfect form for a combat golem?"
"You should've just added more eyes," he sighed.
"Eyes on the body? Unesthetic—unless it's a spider!"
"That's all?" I asked.
"Oh, no. It can detect movement by air currents… works well indoors, but we're outside… I took that from security systems, still needs work. Turn it on?"
"No. Next."
"Hearing! Sensitive enough to pick up a heartbeat, but…"
"Let me guess—only in silence?"
"Yes… With more time, I'd perfect it. In ideal conditions, it's brilliant and reacts faster than any handler!"
She raised a finger for emphasis, then squealed and jumped back. The golem suddenly began pounding the ground in front of it, spraying sand and dust.
"What are you doing?!" She shielded her board from the swirling grit, searching the glowing formulas for the cause.
The golem dug a calf-sized pit. She cursed under her breath.
"The sun," Marvin said calmly. "The metal plate on its eyes heated up. It thinks there's an enemy ahead."
"Oh… Right," Ashley said, and the golem stopped at once. "Okay, vision off. Thanks, Mar."
Clearing my throat to get their attention, I spoke as evenly as I could.
"If you want my opinion, it's a very raw product. What if you face a fire mage? In that case even this single—"
"Yes… You're right." She slumped. "But believe me, it can all be improved."
"I believe you," I agreed easily. "And I'll give you the chance to work on it, say, two days a week. I'll cover all expenses… if you work for me."
"You just don't know how much the stuff she put in the golem's eyes cost…" Marvin muttered.
But Ashley's eyes were already glowing brighter than the golem's.
"Marvin!"
"What?"
"Maaaarvin!"
"I'll think about it."
"Hooray!"
"I said I'll think about it."
"And I know you. You'll agree."
"Just to spite you, I might refuse." He frowned.
"Then every time you fall asleep before me, I'll tickle you awake."
"Oh, Merlin, not that…" He rolled his eyes.
I hid a smirk. I'd been afraid I'd have to wreck their golem to keep it from reaching the Tournament, but in the end, things turned out fine. Which meant no flood of autonomous golems for mages in the near future... and I might get heat‑seeking missiles instead. Why not?
After saying goodbye to the pair, I returned to the stands in good spirits.
"Red lost," Asha reported first thing.
"What?"
"Well, red. So, did you kick that idiot's ass? Judging by your look, it was a draw."
"He managed to score a few points," I admitted. "Anything interesting happen at the Tournament?"
Asha tilted her head toward a blood‑stained spot that water mages were quickly cleaning. Judging by the amount, the participant was likely beyond saving.
"Oh, and the prince left a couple of minutes ago."
"What?" I glanced at his seat—empty, of course. The ambassador nearby didn't act like anything unusual had happened.
"I figured that while you were gone, I should keep an eye on him. You'd be upset if something happened to him... I honestly watched him between matches."
"Why didn't you follow him?" I quickly calculated the nearest exit. Could I intercept him?
"Well, the matches were on." She shrugged.
I was already running down the steps.
Down, down, turn. Nearly knocked over a drink seller. Times like this, I cursed the idea of stuffing pistols into my boots instead of making a proper holster.
A few more flights and I was at the exit.
I looked outside—plenty of people, but no prince. I turned back and came face to face with him.
"Damn it… Randal?" The prince adjusted his slipping hood.
"The very same. Going to see Nala?"
"How did you gues… Ah, to hell with it. Nerd said it's fine, so don't nag, for Merlin's sake."
He tried to pass, but I blocked the way.
"I just spoke to the Magister. Turns out, he's against the wedding."
"And how did you even… Never mind. Yeah, I know—Nala already told me."
I stiffened. She'd told me the Magister wasn't against it, just didn't want publicity. Strange...
"And what's she planning to do about it?"
"She's got a plan, mate. Everything's sorted."
"Glad to hear it. And what is it?"
"Well, I wasn't really listening when she explained, I was… otherwise occupied, and she's quite the chatterbox in bed... But trust me, it's serious. She wants to move to our side and make off with something from the chimmerologists — some research or something like that."
"And you're fine with this?"
"What? Me? I'm thrilled. Girl's fire, even if she's ice. Oh, and you know…" The prince stepped back, apparently thinking better of running off and instead decided to bend my ear. "You know those stereotypes about water mages? In my experience they're usually true, but this time—nope. So picture this: I take her to this seaside spot, absolutely gorgeous, sheer cliff, waves, the perfect place for a water mage, right? She nearly scratched my face off, got all offended. Keeps dragging me to gardens instead, like some sort of earth mage. I don't mind, bushes and all that, but it's getting old. Trees everywhere, and she's telling me which tree bark is edible and which isn't. Edible as in, like, spices. Sounds like some disease—carcinoma or whatever. Tell me, why should I clutter my head with that? We've got cooks for that, right?"
"You're right, but you know..."
"Wait, I'm not done!" he cut me off. "So there's this plant in the gardens, boom‑flower or something. Fruit explodes to scatter seeds farther?"
"Let's say yes." I nodded.
"So she got me playing tic‑tac‑toe with them. Nearly blew my arm off. Crazy about games. And also—"
"I need to meet her," I interrupted, my tone dead serious.
"Why's that?" He gave me a jealous look.
"Business. We need to make a plan."
"Told you, she's already got one to pull this off." But when he saw I wouldn't let it go, he waved his hands. "Fine, fine, I'll tell her. Happy? I've got to run."
He waved goodbye and disappeared into the crowd.
A distant voice announced the quarterfinals. Still a while till the finals.
Go back?
I scratched my stubble in thought.
No time to slack off. First…
I walked up to an idle hackney carriage.
"Where to, sir?" The driver tipped his hat.
"The port. To a ship named Espluar."
