And again – the same mage with his circus performance. After two teleports like this, he’d probably earned enough to buy himself a decent house. The only question was whether he actually had enough strength to move three people.

  Vanessa stood aside with her arms folded, clearly still offended that no one had wanted to take her along. Nothing but a walking headache.

  Neymar, on the other hand, was fussing nearby, checking again and again whether he had packed everything. The young healer kept rummaging through his inventory, endlessly delighted with the unusual potions Ingis had given him. He was especially thrilled with the elixir for rapid mana recovery. Of course, compared to the mana reserves of those who had access to the Tower’s source, the points it restored were laughable. But ordinary adventurers could only dream of something like that. The price was outrageous–only someone of gold rank could afford a steady supply. And on top of that, Ingis had shared other supplies with Neymar as well.

  Incredible generosity. Suspiciously incredible.

  Maybe Kel was being paranoid, but he didn’t believe in Ingis’s selflessness.

  And the stories about how a healer’s heart couldn’t endure the suffering of children didn’t convince him in the slightest.

  But Kel had set a rule for himself: deal with problems as they come. And right now, his first priority was the Lamia.

  His gaming experience offered no guidance. The archmage’s knowledge was far broader.

  Old folk legends described the Lamia as a monster in the form of a woman who came at night and devoured infants. Literally. The real creature, however, acted with more subtlety. A Lamia established a special, hidden bond with its victim and then slowly drained their life force. It didn’t even need to feed immediately–marked prey could remain in reserve for a long time. Like a semi-finished meal stored in a refrigerator. An unpleasant comparison, but an accurate one.

  Because of this, the illnesses were almost never widespread and rarely raised suspicion. The local gluttonous beast had grown careless.

  And that would work in their favor.

  The mage finished his preparations and invited them to the portal. Kel was almost impressed by the man’s audacity and confidence. Transporting three people–not counting himself – was an enormous risk.

  Yet once again, everything went smoothly. The mage really ought to undergo re-certification; he clearly had talent.

  The Alliance outpost was already prepared to receive them. It seemed the Chartis family commanded respect. They were allowed into the Wastelands without delay, and saddled horses were brought out for them.

  “We’re supposed to ride those?”

  The horses were an unpleasant surprise for Kel.

  “For our sake, the mages won’t lower the magical threads or any other defenses,” Vanessa explained, as if lecturing a slow child. “That means we can’t teleport directly to the site.”

  “I understand the theory,” Kel said. “I’m just questioning the choice of transport.”

  “We could use something else,” he added.

  Vanessa folded her arms, clearly unimpressed.

  “Any nobleman knows how to ride a horse. I didn’t think this would be an issue.”

  “Well, lucky for you, I’m not a nobleman,” Kel replied pleasantly. “Just a village simpleton, as you so kindly pointed out yesterday. We tend to specialize in walking.”

  He glanced at Neymar.

  “Maybe our brave healer is secretly a master rider?”

  Neymar shook his head with visible alarm.

  “See?” Kel spread his hands. “Two helpless peasants and one disappointed noble lady. I suggest we ask the guards for a wagon. Preferably one that doesn’t try to bite me.”

  Vanessa looked as if she was deciding whether to strangle him now or later.

  Vanessa refused to give up.

  “My father and brother always said a real warrior would never humiliate himself like that. Only the wounded travel in wagons.”

  “Personally, I’ll survive this cruel humiliation,” Kel said. “Neymar, I hope you will too. As for you, feel free to move around in whatever heroic manner you prefer. I’m going to negotiate.”

  Vanessa chose to remain on horseback.

  The wagon was meant to deliver supplies to the camp, so most of the space was taken up by bulging sacks. Neymar settled modestly in the corner. Kel leaned back against one of the bags–grain, judging by the smell–and stared up at the sky.

  For the first time in days, he had a moment to think.

  He tried experimenting with his old inventory again. No change. He could still place items inside, but taking anything out was impossible. The icons of the stored objects flickered temptingly, as if mocking him.

  Kel closed the inventory before the sight of it could sour his mood any further–bank notes, weapons, all just sitting there out of reach. He had already visited a weaponsmith and bought a sword, but it didn’t even come close to the ones locked inside his storage.

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  It was the kind of blade common among adventurers and novice warriors. A modest boost to agility, twenty points to strength–nothing impressive. And yet the sword played a key role in his plan. Kel hoped it would help divert attention–from his companions and from the Tower mages watching over these lands.

  They traveled in silence until sunset. Kel was lost in thought. Neymar was too shy to start a conversation. Vanessa maintained a proud, stubborn quiet. As for the driver, all three of them might as well have been sacks of potatoes.

  They skirted the town where Kel had stayed on his way out of the Wastelands and continued on. By the time darkness fell, they had no choice but to make camp in the forest.

  “These lands are dangerous,” Vanessa announced. “We’ll take turns on watch.”

  Apparently, she had decided she was the leader of their little party.

  Kel didn’t argue. Sitting by the fire, he watched Vanessa set up magical ward markers around the camp. She didn’t have a core of her own, but mages had solved that issue long ago by creating artificial substitutes. Crude, limited–yet functional. Items that could be charged with mana and used for simple, pre-configured spells.

  Most adventurers relied on their guild badges for that purpose. Vanessa, judging by the feel of it, was using the case for her bow.

  Kel sensed the mana draining with every marker she activated.

  –10 MP

  –10 MP

  Again and again, until less than half of the original hundred remained.

  How wretched it must be–living like that, forced to treasure every drop of mana as if it were water in a desert.

  He loosened his grip on the core just slightly, letting mana flow more freely through his body. The spell formed almost on its own, neat and efficient.

  [Protective Barrier – Deployed]

  A translucent dome settled over the campsite, invisible to ordinary eyes. The air grew a touch warmer, steadier–like the difference between standing in the open wind and stepping inside a house.

  Much better.

  Kel glanced at Vanessa. She looked proud of her little network of markers, completely unaware that the entire camp was now covered by a barrier strong enough to withstand a siege engine.

  Some truths were better left unsaid.

  Neymar, who had been silently warming his hands by the fire, suddenly lifted his head and began to look around.

  “What is it?” Kel asked, at the same time dimming his core back to its previous state.

  Neymar answered after a brief pause.

  “Probably nothing. Just imagined it.”

  He hesitated for a moment, then added:

  “I hope Lady Vanessa’s protective charms will hold. This place feels… uneasy. And I’m a terrible fighter.”

  Kel’s watch came just before dawn–the hour when sleep is at its deepest and sweetest.

  Vanessa woke him without a shred of mercy.

  Kel took her place by the fire and settled into a half-doze. He had no intention of keeping a proper watch. The barrier would repel any danger anyway. Unless Targis decided to show up out of nowhere again with that damned magic staff of his.

  He was more cautious now than he’d been in those first days. After facing a real boss instead of minor monsters, Kel had realized the situation was worse than he’d imagined. The same old problem–his body simply couldn’t withstand the power of the magical core.

  In a truly serious fight, he could lose. Not because of lack of skill–just because he might collapse unconscious in the middle of battle. That was the worst part: there was no brute-force solution. Only training, slow adaptation, and a gradual increase in capacity. Which made it twice as important to avoid any conflict with someone on the level of a Tower Magister.

  A faint rustling sounded at the edge of the barrier.

  Kel focused – and smiled.

  It seemed they had visitors. The very spiders the people of the Wastelands cursed at every turn.

  Kel rose silently and stepped beyond the barrier.

  The spiders didn’t attack.

  “Go hunt something else,” Kel suggested. “Maybe a hare… or better yet, a deer.” Judging by their size, a hare would barely be a snack. The spiders just stared at him.

  Kel usually didn’t pay much attention to insects, but these were impossible to miss. They were covered in fine hairs that almost looked like fur. Curiosity got the better of him, and he reached out to touch one. The spiders bolted into the underbrush and vanished.

  “Fine. Be that way.”

  By the fire, Vanessa waited, arms crossed and clearly annoyed.

  “You abandoned your post! What if they attacked us?”

  Kel leaned casually against a sack. “So… bathroom breaks are banned for ‘real warriors’? Or is that only a suggestion?”

  Vanessa flushed, muttered something under her breath, and returned to her blanket without another word.

  Kel had thought he’d meet the Lamia once they arrived at the camp. But the next day, she found him first.

  He was gathering firewood when a woman appeared before him. Madame Janet.

  Kel looked at her – just an ordinary woman, nothing monstrous about her. Janet smiled.

  “See? I wasn’t imagining it before. I’m so glad you managed to escape the mages.”

  Wait… she thinks I’m the Archmage? How could she possibly know?

  “You freed me from captivity, filled me with your power, and gave me a chance to enjoy life. I’ll never forget it.”

  Janet had just revealed the secret of why he hadn’t sensed the monster within her. She, infused with his power, appeared to all spells as an ally.

  And why would I – he, whatever – do that?

  Kel decided to play along.

  “What exactly gives me away? I thought my disguise was perfect.”

  Janet tilted her head to the side.

  “You can fool mages. You can fool monsters. But how do you hide from the inner eye of the Great Calamity? We’re all its children, and we can sense each other. Feel our shared power.”

  That was… new. And not exactly comforting. Children of the Calamity? Kel frowned.

  “So… out-of-rank creatures like you can feel my power?”

  Janet’s smile faltered.

  Her gaze sharpened. Her pale eyes glowed with gold.

  “WHO… ARE… YOU?”

  Kel realized he had slipped up somewhere. But what had triggered her anger?

  He instantly activated all his protective spells. At that moment, he was probably the most shielded person in the entire kingdom.

  “He never called me a creature or a monster. Neither me, nor the other Children of Calamity. Respect… ever heard of it?”

  Janet’s eyes glowed brighter, the golden light burning like molten metal. She lifted her hand, and a ripple of dark energy stretched toward Kel. The air itself seemed to thicken, vibrating with the pressure of her magic.

  Kel reacted instantly. Sparks flew where the magic collided, crackling like lightning in a storm.

  “Not today,” he muttered, feeling the familiar thrill of power surge through him. The attack recoiled, unable to pierce his defenses. But Janet wasn’t done. She surged forward, her hands carving runes in the air, every gesture summoning another wave of destructive energy.

  Kel barely had time to adjust his stance, leaning back as a blast of force slammed into his shield. Dust and debris swirled around him, and the ground cracked under the pressure.

  Janet, even appearing human, carried the raw strength of a being far above normal monsters – or even high-level mages.

  Predictable.

  He hadn’t expected anything else.

  From the trees, Vanessa lunged out. Probably drawn by the noise of the battle. The arrow she released vanished before it even reached the Lamia.

  A swift, blurred movement – like the Lamia had turned into a golden mist, darting straight at Vanessa.

  A moment later, the mist was gone.

  Vanessa collapsed to her knees, trembling as she brought a hand to her chest. A thin stream of blood trickled from her mouth, quickly swelling into a crimson river.