freeallnovels Chapter 61 - Grudge
Chapter 61 - Grudge
Ardi’s instincts, drilled into him by Guta, reacted faster than he could even comprehend. Ignoring the blinding pain, he let go of his staff, hunched over to avoid the large, hairy fist swinging past above his head, then dove at his opponent’s legs.Slamming his shoulder into the man’s stomach and pressing his neck against his torso, Ardan grasped the back of his foe’s knees and yanked them toward himself while simultaneously shoving his own body forward.
Feeling his prey lose its balance and fall onto its back, flailing awkwardly at the air in a vain attempt to hold on to something, the hunter loosened his paws and leaped up, pressing his knees into his victim’s chest. Clasping his paws together, he lifted them above his head, summoning all his strength to slam them directly into the prey’s muzzle. Guta, just like Ergar, had always taught him to end a hunt or a fight as quickly as possible.
Wait… Guta? Ergar? Prey?
Ardi blinked.
There was no prey trembling before him. With a terrified look on his face, Baron Kerimov was lying pressed to the ground beneath his knees, his chest getting crushed.
Yes, that same baron from Iolai Agrov’s entourage… He was broad-shouldered, hulking, and had a massive jaw. He rasped and tried to breathe, but Ardan’s knees were pressed against his chest, preventing him from doing so.
Ardi, who was also rasping and pressing a hand against his burning chest (which made the pain flare up again), struggled to get back to his feet and, after picking up his staff, stepped aside. All around him stood frozen, shocked students. They were whispering to each other and pointing their fingers at Kerimov and Ardan.
It made him uneasy.
“Egobar…” The struggling baron began to say, his voice hoarse as he rose.
“What’s happening here?!” Came a somewhat squeaky, yet still male voice.
It was a voice Ardi recognized. A scene from what was essentially his recent, and yet also seemingly distant past, surfaced in his memory:
This was the very same man who had succumbed to the Witch’s Gaze when Ardan had been leaving the Palace of the Kings of the Past.
Dispersing the crowd as he went, the pompous mage struggled to walk on such thin legs that the mere fact they hadn’t broken under the weight of his protruding, round, swollen belly was a miracle unto itself.
Unfortunately, the gentleman had replaced his cane with a staff, his expensive suit and cufflinks with a yellow academic robe, and his jewel-encrusted rings with the insignia of the Deputy Dean of the Military Faculty. Of course.
“What’s going on, student Kerimov?” The Deputy Dean, Rafael Alirov, asked the disheveled baron in a gentle, even paternal tone. Ardan recalled the man’s name thanks to Boris, who’d mentioned the dean and his deputies.
Rafael Alirov, who possessed five, three, four, and then three rays again judging by his epaulettes, seemed not to notice Ardan. And considering their history, he surely hadn’t.
“Student Egobar attacked me, Deputy Dean,” Kerimov grimaced, rubbing his bruised chest.
The man turned sharply to Ardan, who was stunned by such a blatant lie. For a moment, Rafael’s small eyes turned into beads, then widened to a normal size by ordinary human standards.
“You!” He declared in outrage. “Yes… Yes…” And then his mouth twisted into a smug smirk. “Attacking another student of the Imperial Magical University is a very serious offense. Not to mention causing them grievous bodily harm.”
Ardan looked at Kerimov. He looked quite alright, though his jacket and cloak were wrinkled.
“Kerimov!” Bellowed Rafael.
“Yes, Deputy Dean?”
“Are you seriously injured?”
“Me? No, it’s nothing…” But, after noticing the furious, deadly gaze of the deputy dean, the baron immediately changed his stance. “Or, umm, I meant to say that I seem to have a fractured rib. Two. Or maybe even four. And a ruptured spleen. And perhaps my liver has been crushed. Both of them.”
“A human body only has one liver,” Ardan corrected him automatically.
“Silence!” Rafael squeaked at a volume that endangered the stained-glass windows. “Today, I will submit a report demanding your expulsion, student Egobar! You will no longer-”
“That’s not true!” A voice rang out among the students. “Kerimov attacked Ard first!”
“Who?” Squeaked the deputy dean. “Who said that?! Step out of the crowd immediately!”
“I did,” said a slender boy from the Faculty of Biology and Alchemy, pushing aside the other students. Ardi had helped him with tinctures and the properties of Ley plants once or twice.
Rafael seemed to even be licking his lips in anticipation.
“A false testimony? A conspiracy, is it? I-”
“It’s not a false testimony,” came another voice. And then a girl from the Faculty of Defensive Wards stepped forward out of the crowd. Ardi had helped her with some drawings and arrays. “I also saw Kerimov try to hit Ard. From behind.”
“You-”
“And I saw it as well!” Another man cut in.
“And so did I.”
“I saw it too!”
“Kerimov attacked first!”
“The baron is lying!”
“And you listened to him.”
One by one, freshmen, and a few rare sophomores emerged from the crowd of students. All of them accused Kerimov of lying and insisted that Ardan was defending himself and nothing more.
“Silence!” Rafael slammed his staff against the floor. For a moment, a seal flared beneath his feet, and the hall was plunged into silence.
The students opened their mouths, gesticulating wildly, but not a single word escaped their lips. Soon, they realized what had happened and began anxiously clutching their throats and mouths.
“It’s a simple Rafael gritted his teeth. “It will fade in ten minutes. And you, Kerimov and Egobar, will follow me to the Dean of the Military Faculty’s office. I will hear both of you out there, after which I will make a decision. This is an order.”
According to the regulations of the Grand, students were obliged to obey professors under the threat of immediate expulsion. It was quite logical when you considered the fact that essentially every student carried a weapon — a staff — and the means to use it with them. Moreover, they all underwent military training. Without a strict hierarchy, anything could happen.
Naturally, professors never abused their authority because the prestige of the Grand was at stake, and also because some of the students were nobles far more distinguished than their instructors.
But that was not the case with Rafael. Dukes did not study at this university, and the Great Princes, of whom there were two in the Grand besides Iolai, were the exception to the rule.
Ardan found himself facing a rather ridiculous choice. He could refuse and be expelled immediately for disobedience. Or he could comply and get caught up in a web of bureaucracy and red tape that would stretch on for so long that the library would be forgotten by the end of it.
Ardi looked at his watch.
“You’re not running late anymore, student Egobar,” Rafael hissed. “And you might not even get to stay at the university any longer than I need to-”
“Oh, Ard, I was looking for you,” another familiar voice called out from the crowd.
With a lollipop in his mouth, acting almost like Din Erson, his stride casual even as he deliberately made his heels click loudly, Bazhen stepped forward.
This was the Jurisprudence student who had handled Ardan’s enrollment documents. He was still painfully thin, but with some inner strength to him. That inner strength was so apparent that it made the scrawny Bazhen appear more powerful and taller than all the other students standing beside him.
“Deputy Dean,” Bazhen bowed theatrically while making intricate gestures… with his lollipop.
Whispers spread through the crowd of students. In the relatively tight community of the Grand, peculiar rumors about Bazhen Eorsky were always circulating. They largely centered around his unrestrained hedonism, which had brought him to the brink of expulsion time and again, but which he’d always managed to wriggle out of thanks to his incredibly sharp mind, his quick tongue, and his impeccable knowledge of the law.
In short, people preferred not to tangle with Bazhen. Not because of the number of rays on his epaulettes —which were practically nonexistent — but because it just wasn’t worth the risk.
“Eorsky,” Rafael hissed.
“I’m glad you remembered my name,” Bazhen exclaimed, waving his hands about. “Alas, I can’t respond with genuine reciprocity, for which I offer my deepest apologies.”
Rafael almost started frothing at the mouth due to his barely-contained rage.
“I can see that we have a misunderstanding here, Deputy Dean,” Bazhen tossed the lollipop into his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest. “Mr. Egobar didn’t clean his shoes and soiled the floor,” Eorsky nodded toward… the perfectly clean, shiny floor. “As a result, Mr. Kerimov slipped and, in an attempt to preserve his honor and dignity, tried to grab his fellow student’s reliable shoulder. Unfortunately, they fell together as a result, which may have looked like a fight to the surrounding observers. Have I assumed correctly, Deputy Dean?”
Rafael clenched his teeth so hard they nearly cracked.
“You-”
“But, of course,” Bazhen interrupted him, lazily rolling the lollipop around in his mouth. “If I’m the only one who sees things that way, then it’s a very serious matter. An attack meant to cause severe harm to a future military mage is the same as an assault on an active officer. That is a crime punishable by up to twenty years of hard labor. However, unfortunately, such cases are not within the jurisdiction of the teaching staff. The guards must be called in. Although…”
Bazhen pretended to ponder the matter, “I’m sorry, I was slightly mistaken there. Since both parties in this case are mages, a call to the Second Chancery and their investigators will be required. And an interrogation of all witnesses, of course. Let me just remind you that the witnesses will be held accountable if they provide a false testimony. On top of that, both sides of the conflict will also have to bear a lot of responsibility, from administrative fines of sixty exes to criminal charges for the unjustified wasting of the investigators’ time. Not to mention the fact that if the attack did take place, we are back to the issue of hard labor. The only thing to figure out then is which side will end up being shackled to-”
“You talk too much, student Eorsky,” Rafael, whose face was now an alarming shade of deep red, began to raise his staff again.
“Oh, I can see that you have used the on a group of students,” Bazhen grinned, looking at the mute students at the same time. “Do you have the authorization from the Dean to use such measures? Although, I suppose you might’ve just gotten nervous and slipped up accidentally. Such an incident, of course, would not be worth the trouble of convening a faculty panel to assess your professional aptitude. After all, that’s what article 22.4 of the Grand’s Charter stipulates.”
Rafael slowly lowered his staff back down, not even finishing the seal.
“I think we can all agree that Mr. Egobar should compensate you for the damage caused to the Grand’s property,” Bazhen sweetened the deal. “Say… by spending three days as an assistant worker in the Main Menagerie? Oh, wait, that’s only allowed from the fourth year onwards… But, obviously, you wouldn’t mind postponing his service, would you, Deputy Dean?”
“I wouldn’t,” Lord Alirov muttered.
“Wonderful,” Bazhen clapped his hands together. “How wonderful it is that, thanks to the efforts of the Faculty of Jurisprudence, we’ve managed to resolve everything so quickly. And also, please return the students to normal.”
Rafael quickly slammed his staff down, and after a seal briefly flashed under it, the ability to speak was restored to everyone around them, instantly manifesting itself in a wave of whispers and barely-contained giggles.
No one wanted to mess with Bazhen since he could twist any situation and law to his advantage, but everyone still enjoyed watching how he treated those unfortunate enough to have drawn his ire.
“Disperse,” Rafael snorted, hastily moving toward the elevators. “No need to crowd around.”
Kerimov didn’t budge. He didn’t take his worried and alarmed gaze away from Ardan.
Sleeping Spirits.
Milar had been right. Iolai Agrov’s squad of toadies really did have a very small-
“I challenge you, Mr. Egobar, to a bloody duel,” Kerimov announced. He didn’t sound at all confident and was quite hesitant, in fact, but his words still had the same effect as the deputy dean’s recently-cast curse, plunging the students into a chasm of silence.
But the baron himself was not worried about the duel or his opponent. He was concerned about something else. Or rather, else. Specifically, Iolai Agrov, whom Ardi had noticed was standing near the monument to the First Emperor, accompanied by his other lackeys. The Great Prince was watching the unfolding events with a disapproving look on his face.
“I refuse-”
“You better agree,” Bazhen whispered in his ear, adding a few more words when he noticed the confusion on Ardan’s face. “Kerimov is one of the strongest first-year duelists, isn’t he? If you defeat him, you’ll ensure a peaceful life for yourself, at least until the end of the year. Iolai will decide to prepare better before settling scores with you.”
Bazhen’s words had a lot of merit, but Ardi, plainly put, didn’t want to engage in foolish acts like duels. Especially when there was no real reason for it.
“Fine,” Ardan sighed in agreement.
“Name the time,” Bazhen suggested.
“Fifth day, right after the last lecture.”
“And the place.”
“Any practice ground in the Grand.”
“Appoint your second.”
Ardan turned to Bazhen, who had been whispering in his ear all this time, and grinned broadly.
“Ah, you motherfu-”
“Bazhen Eorsky will be my second,” Ardan silenced his protests.
“This is what you get for helping your colleagues,” Bazhen whispered with an annoyed huff.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“Baron Zahatkin will be my second,” the emboldened Kerimov replied. “See you, Mr. Egobar.”
And the baron left. Along with him, the crowd gradually dispersed, discussing and spreading the news that Ardan was about to fight a bloody duel against one of the Great Prince’s friends. Given the excitement, the entire university would know about this farce within a week.
Ardi shook his head. Did he need all of this hassle... He also wondered if a duel could be skipped?
Ardan snapped out of it. Right next to him was an agent or informant () from the Second Chancery.
Ardan leaned in toward Bazhen’s ear and whispered, trying to ensure that no one would overhear them, even accidentally.
“Do you have a way to contact the House?”
“There’s a draft in the atrium,” Bazhen complained. “Some unintelligible words are being created by it.”
“I need to contact Captain Pnev.”
“Such unfamiliar names. I am even unclear on-”
“Tell the House to have Pnev find my medallion. Say that I might have a clue about the demonologist.”
Bazhen turned to Ardan and, moving just one lip, said:
“You are as good as a Cloak already, Ard, as… I can’t even find the words. I’ll let them know. Let’s leave now.”
And Bazhen, sucking on his lollipop once more, put his hands in his pockets and walked off somewhere toward the eastern passage.
“And bring the first-years’ records to the library as well, please,” Ardan hurried to add.
For some reason, Bazhen slapped himself across the face and pretended not to have heard anything.
Ardi could only hope that he was “pretending” at least.
Ardan, however, headed for the elevators. Leaving the atrium behind, he passed through the “museum” doors () and, after waiting with the elderly worker until a group of five had gathered, ascended to the library floor.
During the ride, as he always did, the young man had the feeling that he would either fall to his death or be crushed by the walls that would close in on him, but none of that happened. The worst thing that did happen was that someone had contaminated the air. And quite seriously, too. But out of politeness, everyone pretended that they hadn’t noticed, and the ride went smoothly.
All in all, after Ardan finally left the elevator, he felt like his dislike for the infernal contraptions had grown.
After catching his breath and blinking hard while trying to resist the urge to rub his aching chest, Ardi straightened and... queued up.
There were twenty students ahead of him. And they were all standing at a desk where several library staff were working.
This wasn’t even funny anymore.
***
The last person in front of Ardan, who’d finally found a solution to his problems after a lot of back and forth with the staff, stepped aside. Ardi checked his watch.
Sleeping Spirits. He probably hadn’t even gotten so bored while waiting for his certificate of adulthood and other papers in the Evergale town hall. And this wasn’t even a case of bad luck. The semester had just begun and the students needed new literature. That was it.
“Good afternoon, Ard,” his good acquaintance greeted him cheerfully. Ardi had often been here for her shifts when he’d stayed late in the library. “What have you got for me today? More books on the design and construction of three-contoured seals? Or will you continue with embedded dynamic arrays? I think I’ll soon master your curriculum.”
“Good afternoon, Lisa,” Ardan greeted her back, struggling to say her name without flinching.
Her name was the same as…
Instead of saying anything else, the young man handed her his special pass, sliding it across the desk with a list of literature tucked underneath it. Lisa skillfully grabbed it, read it, then tore it up and threw it into the bin.
“I’ll bring it all to your usual spot,” she nodded with a rather serious expression.
Ardi thanked her and headed to the reading hall. Considering that he was in the library, where he sometimes spent more time than at home, he indeed had his own little corner.
Passing by rows of tables, and occasionally whispering greetings to some acquaintances — other dedicated readers who spent long hours poring over books — Ardan walked past a partition and found himself at a familiar little nook.
There were tables piled high with books, and sometimes even scrolls; students buried in various literature, scribbling with their pens under the light of Ley-lamps; and a lone, vacant table near the window.
He sat down at it.
A few minutes later, Lisa, pretending like she wasn’t holding anything particularly special, brought him several books. And then, just as silently as she’d come (she even wore soft-soled shoes without heels to not disturb the quiet), she returned to her workstation.
It was no surprise to him that she’d brought him such important books herself and not used magic. The risk involved was terrifying…
Ardan, not wanting to waste any time, opened the first volume of six. It wasn’t too thick, but it was not among the thinnest things he’d ever read, either. It had about five hundred pages, probably.
.”
Hours passed in his search for the information he needed, evoking genuine excitement in Ardi. He felt like he was close to unraveling the puzzle. Just a little more. Just a little…
A “little” while later…
“Here, this is the last one,” Lisa, who had quietly approached the table, placed another box full of thin folders next to Ardan. Of course, while the folders were thin individually, the sheer number of them was somewhat intimidating.
Ardi stopped reading the “Autobiography of the Sole and Last Grand Magister of Demonology in the Empire” — the fourth book on his list. He hadn’t found the necessary information in the first three.
“Could you please help me?”
“With what exactly?”
“I need to sort these files,” Ardi nodded to the piles. “By gender and place of residence.”
Lisa glanced toward the now-empty lobby, where hours earlier, a huge line had formed, and she gave him a small nod.
At this hour, everyone who’d wanted to come to the library was already seated, and any newcomers would have to wait until tomorrow. The reading room’s seats were not endless, so if you didn’t manage to grab a free one in time, it was your own fault. You had to wait until one freed up. And of course, they didn’t free up until closing time.
“Thanks,” Ardan said and returned to reading.
Ardan frowned. The name was faded to the point that it was impossible to read. However, it was irrelevant.
Ardan closed the book and glanced at its spine.
“First Print. Year 376 F.o.E. Publisher: House of Magic. Number of copies: 25.”
“Lisa?”
“Yes, I’m almost done,” the girl closed the penultimate folder and placed it on top of the smallest of the four stacks.
“I wanted to ask you about something else,” Ardan pointed to the book. “It says here that this print run had twenty-five copies. Are there twenty-five of them in the Grand?”
“That’s classified information, Ard,” Lisa shook her head sadly. “I can’t answer that.”
The young man glanced at his wrist.
“You saw the seal and stamp on my pass.”
“I did.”
“Believe me, I could get permission to find out the number of volumes contained in this library, but I don’t have the time,” Ardan tried to speak as seriously and convincingly as possible. At the same time, he looked directly into the girl’s eyes. “I really need to know.
By the Sleeping Spirits, he didn’t want to do this. But time was running out.
The girl didn’t give in immediately. Ardi could feel her mind resisting his efforts, but as soon as he pressed harder, leveraging all his willpower against hers, she relented.
Lisa’s eyes glazed over.
“There are only eighteen copies in our library...”
Ardi, maintaining his hold over Lisa’s mind, asked his next question:
“What happened to the publishing house?”
“The House of Magic publisher hasn’t been in business for over a century,” she spoke like a doll, without any traces of emotion or intonation. “All their books were either confiscated for use in special libraries, including ours, or destroyed.”
Only one last question remained. The most important one.
“Has anyone else requested this book in recent times?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. You’re the first in at least twenty-nine years.”
Damn…
“You won’t remember that this happened, Lisa... But you’ll feel a little resentful toward me for... a few months.”
Ardan looked away, and Lisa, groaning slightly, rubbed her temples.
“Oh, Ard,” she said, blinking in confusion while her gaze slowly returned to normal. “My head is actually hurting a bit from sorting all these folders.”
Ardi discreetly wiped the blood from his upper lip () and tried not to show that he was about to collapse from exhaustion.
“You must be suffering from all that difficult reading,” Lisa nodded at the unpleasant tomes. “But, you know, it’s not like I care.”
“I would honestly prefer to reread the handbook on formulas for high-load dynamic free arrays.”
“Is that the one where each formula takes up a page?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a madman, Ard,” Lisa wrinkled her nose slightly, then laughed and, rising from her seat, walked back to her workstation. “It’s almost closing time, Ard. Your pass is single-use only. I’ll report the materials you’ve asked for to my superiors. And the next time you come here, there will be no extra help from me. I’m not your personal assistant or your friend.”
“I know. Thanks. And sorry.”
“Have a good evening.”
And she left.
Lisa was a pleasant person and a remarkable mage. But Ardan had broken her will and taken what he’d wanted by force.
He felt dirty. He wanted to clean himself. himself. Run from what he had just done. But there was no time for that.
Ardi turned back to the stacks of folders. Or rather — the stack. He was only interested in the women’s files. After all, who would an eleven-year-old boy trust enough to leave with them willingly? A sweet lady in a mage’s cloak, of course. Girls, even at such a tender age, had enough intuition to sense that something was wrong in such a situation.
So, he was looking for a female mage. One who lived in Baliero. Why did he think this? Because the risk of being seen by acquaintances or someone else who could become a witness to her kidnapping boys had been too high. That was why she had never worked in the Baliero area, which, if not definitive proof, was still a clue as to where she lived. She also wasn’t a professional. Otherwise, she would have shot him in the head.
Or maybe she’d planned to… but it would surely be quite inconvenient to aim for the head of a two-meter-tall half-breed if she wasn’t very tall herself.
Yes, Ardi was now sure of it — a woman had shot at him.
So, it was a girl from Baliero, and a first-year student. Why was she only a freshman? Because Orvilov had been courting a freshman. Both Orvilov and this lady desired power. Orvilov had wanted it so he could silence those he called “friends,” and she…
Ardan didn’t know why. And he didn’t care.
He rifled through folder after folder. File after file. Finally, he found the one he needed. The only suitable one.
Sleeping Spirits.
Could it truly be so simple, and was it really one of his own classmates?
Ardan grabbed her file and, feeling the Cloaks’ medallion heating up in his pocket, he headed for the exit.
***
Milar, after listening to Ardan’s explanation, snapped the folder shut and handed it to Alice, who was sitting in the back, sandwiched between Alexander and Din. She just shrugged.
“Sounds convincing enough to check the address. But why do I have to go with you lot?”
“You’ll wait in the car while we verify the trainee’s hunch,” Milar turned the ignition. “If he’s right, you’ll collect evidence and... whatever else you need to collect.”
“Understood,” Alice nodded.
The car’s engine rumbled.
“So, my dear operatives, how do you like the idea of conducting a raid on a demonologist’s lair without any backup, and in the company of a single wounded mage-in-training?”
Alexander spun his revolvers’ barrels, checking the smoothness of the rotation. Din flicked his knives, sending a few sparks flying.
“Then let’s go,” the captain exhaled a puff of smoke. “We’ll beat some demon ass and earn some bonus exes.”