The story of the Elf Queen

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"Please, honorable, everything you requested was delivered on time."

After examining the contents of the elongated chest of iron-clad wood with cloth upholstery inside, Luaval nodded in satisfaction:

"All right. Everything set for tonight?"

"Of course, the honorable one."

"Good."

Slipping his hand into his somewhat lightened shoulder bag, the dark elf pulled out a weighty wallet and held it to the merchant, who stood behind his office desk, literally panting impatiently.

"Your reward."

The merchant took the pouch full of milky-white pearls, assessed its contents, and smiled contentedly. Following the purse, the imperturbable Luaval, dressed in his Dungeon Hunter costume and hooded mask, handed him a small box of dark polished wood. Inside, in special recesses, were five sealed vials.

"Bonus. Use it all wisely."

"Of course, of course, honorable," nodded the happy-go-lucky peddler.

The dark elf's expression was not visible beneath the mask, nor had it changed in the slightest. But to himself, Luaval frowned. In his mind, he understood the usefulness and necessity of such agents. But it didn't make it any easier to deal with them. Taking the chest from the table, the dark elf activated the masking amulet and left the merchant's office, where he immediately drank two vials of rejuvenating alchemy of the highest quality, one after the other. Not everything and not everyone could be bought with money. But the Forest had more to offer than just them. The opportunity to bring one's lifespan a little closer to the Eternity granted by the firstborn was sometimes more effective than gold, silver, gems, or pearls.

Cautiously, Luaval went down into the basement and entered the closed part of the cellar, where all his rescuers were. When the dark elf appeared, they stopped their quiet conversations and looked up at him. Not counting Tiantrelle, who sat motionless on a stool in the corner, staring at nothing with completely empty azure eyes. Laying the chest on the table in the center of the room, which was formed by four barrels and one large crate, Luaval opened its contents, removed the mask from his face, and spoke:

"Okay, now that everyone is all gathered and rested, it's time for the briefing. As you know, we're going to be traveling through the Underworld. And if you want to stay alive, you'll remember these rules."

"First and most importantly. Listen and do everything I say. Immediately, at once, and without the slightest argument. If I tell you to stand, you freeze at the same moment and stay there until I permit you to move. If I tell you to lie down, you lie wherever you are. It doesn't matter if it's in the mud, a puddle, or a pile of sharp rocks. Your clothes will wash off, your bruises and abrasions will heal, but your life will never be restored. Understand?"

The dark elf responded with nods and silent affirmations. What pleased Luaval especially was that the rescued grandson of the head of House Faral, quickly realizing that he was not the only one being rescued, did not become indignant in any way. He took note, nodded, and now listened to the dark elf with a completely impassive face. Good.

"Two. No noise. No talking without my permission. Not at all. You can hold water in your mouth but don't make a single sound. Watch your step and try to move as quietly as possible. Many Underlanders have better hearing than sight. Understand?"

Luaval Gion, who was listening attentively, raised his hand in the air as if he were in an Academy class or a training class of one of the magic guilds:

"Yes?"

"Honorable First, shall we not use amulets to hide the noise we make?"

"Of course we will. Without them, there was no point in taking you through the Underworld. There are many more merciful ways to end your life. But some dwellers in the Underworld can hear through amulets' protection. I hope we don't run into them, but I can't guarantee it. So we try to keep the noise as low as possible. Any other questions?"

Everyone shook their heads negatively.

"Three. Follow me step by step. Or crawl. As I do, so do you. We don't turn around. We don't touch anything without my permission. No plants, no mushrooms, no glowing gems. We don't touch anything without my permission. Especially anything that glows! If you see anything glowing, and there are plenty of such things in the Underworld, don't even think about touching it or getting close to it. In all likelihood, it's either a predator's bait or a predator in disguise, or it's trivially poisonous. There are exceptions, but they are few. Understand?"

"Once again he was answered with nods and quiet words of agreement. Good."

"Fourth. About water. The Underworld has plenty of streams, creeks, ponds, and lakes, especially in this part. As you've probably already guessed, you should stay away from them, and not go near them without my permission. Especially not to any large bodies of water. Don't go near them! You can only drink water that we take with us, or that I check and then filter, because otherwise you'll have a severe disorder at best, and at worst I'll have to dispose of your corpse. Do you understand?

This time Ciara listening to Luaval very attentively, raised her hand. If she had been holding a paper with an enchanted stylus, she would have been writing an essay.

"Yes?"

"I have heard, Honorable First, that the Underworld has many springs of purest water, infused with magic, which is quite drinkable and useful, especially for the gifted."

"And all these springs, honorable Ciara, belong to someone. Either, the sentient beings who build fortresses around them, guarding them more than gold and gems. Or the monsters that wait there for their prey. The chance that we will find a spring with no owner is slightly higher than the chance a dragon that died of old age will fall from the sky in front of you while walking through the forest. Understand?"

The fire spellcaster nodded briefly.

"Okay. Speaking of magic. It concerns the three of you, and Sinha in particular. There are many places in the Underworld where natural magic flows. There are many more than on the surface."

"An average of four and a half times," Ciara's redheaded relative answered as if in class.

"Up to nine in some places, two in others," Luaval nodded and continued.

"There are places, to give an analogy, where the flow of this magic flows along a narrow channel like a mountain stream. And there are places where they flow wide like a flood. We may well come across such a place. In this case, put the protective amulets in afterburner mode, and strain the outer shells of thin bodies to the limit to level out the effects. Do not even try to replenish your strength reserves with this energy. Without proper training and special filters-storage devices from "raw" magic, you will earn energy poisoning at best. At best. In the worst case, you will endanger all subtle bodies, starting from energy channels and ending with auras and shells. So, no unauthorized feedings from energy lines or sources of magic. Understood?"

Everyone nodded, but Andrea, Ciara's relative, raised her hand:

"Yes?"

"Tell me, Honorable First, what is energy poisoning? I haven't been told about it yet."

"It varies, depending on the degree of poisoning and the individual characteristics of each gifted person. The most common symptoms are as follows. Clouding of judgment, as with alcohol or drug intoxication. Or, on the contrary, hyperactivity and overexcitement, as from an overdose of stimulating alchemy. Hallucinations of various types. Inability to think adequately and make decisions. Spontaneous and uncontrolled use of magic with unpredictable effects and results. Loss of consciousness. Seizures. Abrupt mood swings, from complete apathy to animal rage or equally animal lust. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now about you, Sinha."

The daughter of the steppes, who was sitting apart from the others, was immediately alert. She was more wary of Luaval than any of the others. It was probably because her people didn't like anything that didn't live under the eternal blue sky.

"There are plenty of places in the Underworld where the boundary between our world and the spirit world is almost nonexistent. There are places where it's very weak. I've said it before and I'll say it again. Don't try to talk to them. The spirits of the Underworld are not like the ones your mother taught you to communicate with. There are no free winds beneath the earth, no vast expanses of space, and no equally vast skies. It's a different world. And the spirits that inhabit it are also completely different. Don't try to talk to them. And try not to listen to them. If it gets really bad, tell me beforehand. Do you understand?"

"Hai. I remember your words, First-san."

"All right. Now let's get to the gear."

Opening a couple more chests brought to the basement, Luaval began to arrange their contents on a makeshift table.

"For starters, clothes."

On the table in front of the rescued men were laid several sets of garments consisting of pants and shirts of thick, stained dark gray cloth with stitched reinforced leather overlays at the elbows and knees. Beside each lay a pair of soft cloth wrappings, also dark gray. Also spread out on the table were wide waist belts and high leather boots with stiff soles. All the clothes had been selected by the diligent peddler to fit the rescued prisoners.

"You'll leave all your current ones here. You'll wear this one. But first, you're gonna put this on."

On the table stay a small pot of thick and greasy dark ointment, with an unaccustomed and strong earthy odor.

"What is it?" Ciara couldn't help but gasp at the sight of this not-so-pleasant substance.

"An odor suppressor to keep us from being smelled. Without it, the entire Underworld will come running to your scent. Surface meat is a rare delicacy. So everyone's gonna have to get a little grease on them. Especially on the groin and armpits. Hair, faces, hands - anything left exposed has to be smeared. It may seem unpleasant, but you get used to its odor very quickly."

The faces of the rescued gave Luaval an almost physical pleasure. Especially the female half, who imagined what their hair would become. But no one objected.

"Now, about the cloaking amulets. Two each, plus one spare. I've explained and shown you how to use them. Keep them on at all times. Change the storage crystals at every rest stop. Speaking of rest stops, I forgot to tell you. We all have to go to the bathroom only when we're on our breaks. And only where I say and show you. And no "I'll go behind that rock over there or into that cave over there." Turn on your camouflage amulets to the maximum, no one will hear or see you. Before you leave, bury everything and fill it with a special potion, I'll give it to you. The same goes for food. We will have with us only liquid porridge made of mohlum tubers, or as they call it, potatoes of the Underground. It will be stored in specially enchanted flasks with tight lids. I'll tell you right away, the taste is not very good, but it's hearty and you don't need to cook it. We eat only when we're camping and under my supervision. Understand?"

The rescuers nodded, visibly saddened. The faces of the dwarf masters were especially sad. Understandably, they were obviously familiar with the staple food of the Underworld. As well as its flavor.

"Good. Now about the battle amulets."

With those words, Luaval placed several short battle magic wands and two dozen one-off battle amulets in the form of orbs or disks on the table.

"Honorable Ciara, do you and your students, I dare hope, have any idea how to use them?"

"It's fine," the sorceress nodded and took one of them, which was filled with fire. Deftly intercepting it, she activated it at the same time, putting it on alert. After that, one by one, she changed the fire modes to beam, jet, ball, whip, and dagger. After which, she extinguished the battle rod and carefully placed it on the table. Her face had an extremely pensive expression.

"Good sample. Excellent reserve and excellent throughput. How much does it cost to purchase one of these?"

"Expensive and that's not a question for me. What about the others?"

The two bearded masters shook their heads, after which the older one uttered:

"I've held a battle wand a couple of times, but I don't know how to use it."

Sinha also shook her head:

"That's not what my mom taught me. I've never held one of these before. I can sense fire, thunder, and cold. I can wake it up, I guess."

Luaval shook his head:

"Better not. A battle amulet of such power is a dangerous thing. Especially in the unskilled hands."

"May I."

Stepping forward, the previously silent Gion carefully picked up one of the wands filled with lightning from the table. Confidently intercepting it with a classic dueling grip, he awakened it without the slightest difficulty. After that, one by one, he changed several modes, from single strike to chain and ball lightning. Then, also without the slightest difficulty, he extinguished it, placed it on the table, and said:

"I echo the words of the honorable Ciara. A fine weapon. My personal one, which I was used to, was more graceful and somewhat longer, but less powerful."

"I see your father taught you more than just the tricks of the trade. That's good, your chances of seeing him again are a little better."

"My father taught me little himself, preferring to hire the best teachers available. I will repeat the honorable Ciara's question. Tell me, Honorable First, with whom and when can we discuss the purchase of such a masterpiece of artifactry?"

"To whom I will hand you over when and if we reach them through the Underworld. Okay, now let's move on to the next amulets."

As Luaval laid out several gem-studded headbands on the table, he noticed how everyone's eyes widened at the sight of them except Sinha's. Of course they were, they cost a lot of money.

"These hoops are designed for two things. The first is to communicate by telepathy, they are now set to a short distance and only to each other. These settings are not to be changed! There are enough people in the Underworld who can hear a mental call."

"You mean brain-eaters, Honorable First?" Gion clarified.

"First of all, though there are plenty of other creatures with telepathy. I hope we don't run into them."

"And if we do meet?" Ciara asked, interrupting Luaval.

With a mental sigh, the dark elf replied:

"It's quite simple, honorable Ciara. It doesn't matter who we meet, my kin, our honorable masters' kin, the Illithids, or anyone else. If they see and notice us first, at best we are all dead men. I emphasize, at best. If we spot them first, I'll decide on the spot whether we retreat, wait it out, or kill them. Understood?"

The response was unanimous nods.

"Good. Now, the second function of these amulets. It's night vision in several modes. Classic, heat vision, magical vision. It's very simple to switch between the two, you'll practice, just like communicating with thought speech. But you will go with the classic night vision until I say otherwise. Understood?"

Once again the answer was unanimous nods.

"Good. Now, about the alchemy. There's a supply of healing and stimulant alchemy. The former I hope we won't need it. The latter you'll drink on my command after your breaks. Otherwise, we'll be walking too long. The quality is excellent, the doses will be small, and the effects will be gentle, so nothing terrible will happen to you. Understood?"

Once again, unanimous nods.

"All right, then. In that case, let's start packing. We're leaving tonight. And we start by changing clothes and getting rid of the odor."

With doomed faces, the former prisoners unpacked their belongings, and the girls moved behind the screen that separated the room from the rest. Luaval scooped up a generous handful of odor suppressant and walked over to Tiantrelli, who sat motionless, smiling contentedly. Still, one should be able to appreciate the small pleasures of life. Like being able to enjoy the trained body of a charming Secret Guard agent. With a mental command through the amulets she wore, he lifted the branded elf to her feet and ordered her to undress. She complied without hesitation but acted a little slower than she should have. The activated stigma blocker and the rest of the controlling amulets were taking their toll. When Tiantrel was completely naked, the dark elf rubbed her body from head to toe with an odor suppressant under the glances of two dwarves and two young Humans, who looked on enviously.

He paid the closest attention to her pussy and breasts, groping them openly. The envy of the rescued captives who watched him rubbing the tits and ass of the naked and extremely pretty elf could literally be felt with their hands. Tiantrelle did not react in any way. Her breathing remained even. Her pussy was dry and her nipples were not hardened which reinforced Luaval's belief that all her emotions and sensations were also controlled by the branding. Which spoke volumes. Such as the skill level of the one who had applied it.

The dark elf's kin knew more about this area of Mind Magic than most. Though Luaval was not a Master of the School of Branding, he was familiar with their work and had a fairly complete understanding of it. I wonder who worked on you? All masters of such an art are known in one way or another. Or their handwriting is known. Well, that's for the Secret Guard to sort out. It's his job to get her safely to them. Sivila had already replied to him, and she did not hold back her expressions and emotions at his discovery. The point of her message was that Tiantrel was Luaval's top priority now. If things went badly, he was to abandon the others, but try to get the elf out, which was to be expected. And even if Tiantrel was not an agent of the Secret Guard, it is unclear how and when she got captured, the order would be similar in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. The lives of kin are a priori more important than the lives of the short-lived. But they should not say it out loud.

After running his hands once more from her ankles to the branded elf's neck, and enjoying the smoothness of her skin and trained body, Luaval took a step back, assessing the results of his labors. Tiantrel, coated from head to toe in a thin layer of odor suppressant, now resembled a half-breed, from a union of dark and light elves. Her white skin had turned to a light brown, her silver hair to a light brown, casting a silvery glow. With a satisfied nod, the dark elf mentally ordered her to put on her new clothes and gather her hair into a tight bundle. She followed the order clearly and without unnecessary movement. Then, Luaval gave her a series of orders. Sit down. Stand. Bend over. Stand on one leg. Lie down. Stand up. Tiantrelle did them all without the slightest hesitation. Good, so it would be even easier to guide her through the Underworld than the others. Once he was sure the agent was in control, he waited for the other rescuers to finish changing.

Soon there were seven strange, grimy creatures standing in the middle of the room, unrecognizable as five humans and two dwarves. They reeked of damp earth, moss, and something else. Luaval took a deep breath and nodded in satisfaction:

"Good. You smell of the Underworld. The Wild and Neutral lands. Now, let's check and distribute your gear..."

The preparations took the rest of the day and were deemed satisfactory by the dark elf. As the sun began to sink into the horizon, a covered wagon pulled away from the merchant's house with a couple of his assistants. They chatted casually about their business, completely oblivious to what was inside. The wagon pulled out of the city without a problem and headed toward one of the plantations at the foot of the hills. The two islanders did not notice when the passengers jumped out of the wagon. Or rather, they had been helped not to notice the moment in advance by the lightest suggestion. They went on with their master's business, while their passengers went towards the hills.

The evening gloom and the quality of their amulets turned them into barely recognizable shadows. Soon, they stopped at the foot of one of the hills where the passage to the Underworld was hidden. Lurking in the shadows, they began to wait. After a few moments, the rock rippled and a door appeared. It barely opened and then closed again. The fugitives were left alone in the night forest. Time slowed to a crawl, the anticipation and excitement were unbearable. The minutes stretched like hours, but no one moved. Finally, much faster than they had thought, the door opened again, and the voice of the First came into everyone's mind:

Clear. Follow me. Quickly.

I didn't have to call out twice. One by one, the fugitives slipped inside. With the door closed behind them and the defenses activated, Luaval gave the same mental order:

Follow me. Watch your step, the stairs are steep. And don't step on the blood.

The fugitives followed the dark elf. Almost immediately they came upon the bodies of three dark dwarves sitting in the upper room at a small round table. Each of them had had their throats slit, leaving a rather large puddle next to them. On the table were several mugs, a plate of food, and a set of dice. The fugitives froze for a moment at the sight of the corpses.

Did you kill them? Ciara said in surprise through telepathy.

In response, the indifferent voice of First rang out directly in the fugitives' minds:

Of course not. It was their carelessness and negligence that killed them. Come on, hurry up.

No one argued. Everyone followed the dark elf down the stairs. There, in the main corridor, they found another pair of corpses of dark dwarves, a man and a woman. Both had also had their throats slit. Next to them, on the wall, a schematic sign had been drawn in their own blood. Two vertical rhombuses adjoining each other at the side corners, separated by a straight, wide line.

Don't step on the blood.

As they passed the dead, the fugitives glanced into one of the side rooms, whose door was ajar. There, too, they could see several corpses and the same sign on the wall. The eldest of the dwarf masters inquired:

Is that the sign of your House, First?

I have no House. This is the sign of a band of Renegade Hunters who left their Houses and went on robberies and raids. At the site of each robbery, they left their mark, boasting of their prowess. The intelligent inhabitants of the Underworld immediately began to paint the same signs on the scenes of their crimes. To avert suspicion. The renegades had all been killed long ago, except for a couple of the most clever, sneaky, and cunning. But the signs keep being painted. So, wait here.

Luaval stopped at the door that led directly into the Underworld and stood still, listening. Then he opened it and slipped out. A minute passed. A second.

Clear. Come on out.

Carefully, one by one, the fugitives stepped outside. Closing the door behind them, the dark elf activated its cloak and simultaneously activated a small amulet that destroyed the lock mechanism. The friends of the slain already knew of their deaths. He purposely did not block the alarm amulets. Let them spend their time preparing to storm their passage and break down the door. In that time, they'll have gotten far enough away.

Everyone drinks the first vial of stimulants. Follow me step by step.

The fugitives obeyed the order and followed the dark elf. Soon the relatively small cave they had been following ended, replaced by a huge underground hall. At the sight of it, the fugitives froze unable to contain their amazement. As far as the eye could see, columns of stalactites and stalagmites stretched up and down. Some of them were as thick as centuries-old oaks. The largest ones were joined into gigantic columns that went upward to the high ceiling lost in the darkness above our heads. There, among the stalactites, vague shadows flickered now and then. The floor of the giant hall was covered in many places with carpets of mosses, and various mushrooms grew abundantly on it at the foot of the stalagmites, some of which glowed with a pale light. On the stalagmites and stalactites themselves there was also moss, in some places so abundantly that it completely covered this or that formation. Some of the moss was also glowing, and one stalagmite was overgrown and shimmering. Somewhere nearby, a stream murmured. If you listened closely, you could hear the wind whistling. Or, rather, of draughts.

The humans, who had never been to the Underworld before, and the dwarves, who had never been there, froze in surprise. Only Luaval's elfess did not react in any way. Сiara said, amazed:

Unbelievable! Such vastness... I thought...

That the Underworld is all cramped and narrow caves? If it were, no one would live here. Come on, it's dangerous to linger at such passages.

Following Luaval, the fugitives set off. It became clear to them almost immediately that without the dark elf, they would hardly be able to get out of here. The huge hall resembled a labyrinth, and it was not clear how their savior navigated it. Very soon none of the fugitives would be able to say with certainty where they had come from or which way they were going. The only thing that was more or less clear was the general principle of Luaval's route. He carefully avoided the moss-covered areas, trying to lead the party where there were bare rocks and stones or empty patches of the gritty, dark gray earth of the Underworld.

The fugitives moved quite briskly at first. The dark elf led the way, the stimulating alchemy was doing its job, and there was no fatigue. At some point, Ciara noticed something she had missed at first.

And it's pretty warm in here. I didn't expect it.

In this part of the Underworld, yes. It will be even warmer further out. But it's not like that everywhere. There are places where it's quite cold. Keep up.

In this way, the group moved forward, exchanging rare remarks. At some point, quite unexpectedly for the fugitives, the labyrinth of stalactites and stalagmites ended, replaced by a relatively open space. In its center flowed a stream formed by three small streams flowing out of the labyrinth. Various mushrooms grew abundantly along the banks of the stream, some of which were as tall as a grown man's waist. Closer to the side walls of the hall, there were numerous rocks and large boulders. There were also thickets of plants that resembled horsetails or ferns. After giving the command to freeze, Luaval looked around for a few moments and listened to the sounds of the Underworld. Then he gave a short command:

Let's go. There's a dark dwarf outpost up ahead. Set your amulets to maximum on my command.

The wary group followed the dark elf, who kept his distance from the river, trying to stay under the cover of rocks or large rocks protruding from the floor. Now and then he paused for a few moments. The reason for his wariness soon became clear. Between the rocks and stones where they were moving was a well-traveled path, invisible from the riverbank. It was already too comfortable to walk, all the interfering rocks had been removed to the sides. This made everyone tense up even more. And after a while, a muffled clattering and ringing began to be heard. Gradually, it got louder and louder. Then, the path made another turn, at which the dark elf froze.

Wait here. Stay low and don't go anywhere. Amulets at maximum.

And he disappeared. The fugitives froze in place, following his orders. Luaval returned a moment later.

'We can walk, but be careful. Stay low and keep your head down. There's a fortified outpost of dark dwarves on the other bank. They're watching the river and its banks. There'll be a couple of their signal traps up ahead, I've lit them. Combine your night vision with your magic vision and you'll see. You got it? Let's go.

Crouching down, the humans moved after the dark elf. The dwarf masters only had to bend their heads. After passing a high cliff, the group came to a wide river bank, abundantly strewn with large boulders. On the other side of the flooding river was visible a real fortress. Low and wide walls, made of massive blocks of stone, with carved runes, in the classic style of the dark dwarves. In front of the fortress was a wide tiled moat. In front of the moat and all the way to the shore were several fields, with neat beds overgrown with forage mushrooms and underground potatoes. But the river bank on the fortress side was densely strewn with numerous stones, specially chipped to have sharp edges. They were arranged so that there was only one free passage to the water from the side of the fortress. Anyone who dared to walk on the stones would have broken all his legs or cut his belly. But the passage was exactly under the sight of two towers on the sides of the gate of the fortress. On the flat top of each stood massive and strange structures, some glowing bright red in the darkness of the Underworld. Everyone slowed down between the large boulders, casting curious glances at the fortress. A rumbling and clattering sound came from the fortress, audible throughout the surrounding halls.

What are they rattling about? Shouldn't there be silence in the Underworld? Gion asked, treading cautiously behind the younger of the dwarves in front of him.

Mining the ore. And they can afford it because of them, Luaval replied, mentally transferring the image of the structures atop the towers.

What's that? Ciara inquired.

The first to answer, unexpectedly, was the eldest of the masters, and his thought-speech was full of genuine admiration.

Stationary defense golems, can't say exactly what model. Expensive stuff, but powerful and reliable. The eyepiece crystals see everything around, under, and above them. And different eyepieces see in their way. Some see magic, others heat, and others like us with night vision. Heavy battle wands strike no worse than human wizards from their towers. And there are several of them, different models have different ones, but no less than four. And each one hits in its direction, regardless of one from another, but the sectors of fire are overlapped. And their defenses are such that they'll hold off a salvo from the islanders' flagship. One of them, that's for sure. And if there are several of them and they're sitting on a powerful source of magic, they'll hold more than one. Especially if you change the storages...

A fine but wholly inappropriate lecture, honorable master. Postpone it until we rest. Now, we must move forward, Luaval cut off the dwarf's delighted train of thought.

Oh, yes, yes, of course.

After successfully passing a relatively open stretch of riverbank and three camouflaged signal traps of the dark dwarves, the group disappeared behind the high cliffs again. Soon, the fortress was left behind, and its rumbling and clattering became quieter. But it did not become quieter. On the contrary, Luaval stopped more often, listening and looking around. Several times he went forward, then came back. Once, he went back and did not return for several minutes. The youngest of the dwarves was the first to stop:

Honorable First, are we in trouble?

Of course, you're in trouble and big trouble at that. You've been taken prisoner, and now you're in the Underworld, still in the Neutral Territories. And the Wilderness is ahead, albeit a small section.

That's not what I meant...

I guessed."

The dark elf's musing brought a weary, doomed sigh, but still, he clarified:

I noticed a couple of fresh tracks. A kin of mine passed through here not too long ago. Not just one. Most likely a small band. So we need to be vigilant.

Are they looking for us? Gion tensed sharply.

It's possible. Maybe they're not looking for us. Or maybe they're not looking for anyone at all. I don't intend to find out, but I'm going to assume the worst. So let's keep moving and listen to everything I say.

Once again the tense squad moved on. After a while, the path led them to the shore of a large underground lake into which the river flowed. It was so huge that its opposite shore was barely visible. The stalactite-studded ceiling above it was at a great height and poorly visible, but water dripped from it continuously. And there, just as in the labyrinth before, blurred shadows flickered constantly. And in a couple of places, there were also some crystals glittering like stars in the night sky. There were also plenty of mushrooms and plants of the Underworld, some of which glowed very brightly. In some places, the shoreline was a veritable thicket. By Underground standards, of course. There was also noticeably more life here than in the halls before. Numerous insects looked like dragonflies with glowing abdomens flying over the water, especially near the shore. Many of them literally glided over the water, catching someone on its surface. But they were also being grabbed by some fish every now and then.

In front of the fugitives, something with broad webbed wings suddenly swooped down from somewhere above. At the last moment, it came out of its dive at the water's edge, sliding its clawed lower legs across the water. Flapping its wings, it swooped back up to the ceiling, clutching a wriggling fish in its talons. Almost immediately, several more of these creatures swooped down from above. One of them did not dive for its prey but tried to take it away from its kin, causing a fierce fight to break out in the air, accompanied by loud squeals and squeaks.

The fugitives had no time to admire the nature of the Underworld. The fugitives had no time to admire the nature of the Underdark, but they moved along the shore of the lake, trying to keep under the cover of rocks, stalagmites, or large stones. Just as the lake was about to disappear completely from view, another raptor swooped down from the ceiling and grabbed a fish from the surface with its claws. But instead of soaring upward with it, it was sharply pulled under the water, with a surprised squeak and splash. A moment and only circles on the water remained where the flyer had just been. Pointing to it, Luaval said:

A clear example of why you shouldn't go near the water.

Everyone was impressed, and the group hurried onward. The dark elf became even more cautious, and the speed of the group slowed down again. But no one minded. Bypassing part of the shore of the huge lake, winding between rocks and stalagmites, the fugitives reached either a small river or a large stream flowing out of it. Leaving the squad behind, Luaval disappeared for a few minutes. When he returned, the dark elf ordered everyone to follow him, and headed down the stream, trying to keep their distance from its bank. Soon, the stream led them to a passage to another hall. More precisely, to a wide and high opening in the side wall of the huge hall with the lake. Behind this opening, they could see another hall, equally spacious with a lower ceiling. There were stalactites and stalagmites, too, and the banks of the stream winding between them were covered with mosses, mushrooms, and vegetation. The problem was that this hall was located two dozen meters below the level of the present hall. The stream flowed into the breach with a loud gurgling sound, forming a waterfall. Standing at the edge of the almost sheer cliff, Luaval stared at the hall below for several minutes. Then he turned to the other fugitives and said:

This way. We'll use the levitation amulets. I only have two. To save time, we'll go down two at a time, in afterburner mode. Wait for me here. I'll check it out first, then I'll come back for you.

Without objection, the dark elf simply jumped down, disappearing into the darkness. Time slowed again, and the tense minutes of waiting in silence dragged on. Only the murmur of the waterfall and the sound of drops from the ceiling. Luaval returned as suddenly as he had disappeared:

We can go. First me and the Branded one, and the masters. Then Gion and Ronan, and me with Sinha. Ciara and Andrea are last along with me. We land on that rock over there, the one with the flat top. Here we go.

The descent was uneventful, except for the almost completely drained amulets, which had to work in afterburner mode with the increased weight. Hugging each other, the fugitives turned on their amulets and simply jumped down after Luaval. It was a blessing that the cliff was wide enough. Once the caster and her apprentice were down, Luaval ensured the others were all right, and the group moved on. It was warmer in this room than in the upper one, and people had sweat beading on their faces. The vegetation and mushrooms were also much more numerous and dense. The underground flora was especially dense along the banks of the stream that flowed further into the Underworld, winding between stalagmites and rocks. A couple of times, the fugitives spotted flying raptors diving from the ceiling after another fish.

Luaval tried to move between the river and the side wall of the hall and avoid moss thickets or patches of bare ground. At one point, the dark elf suddenly froze in place and stopped the troop. Everyone immediately tensed up, expecting anything. Squatting down, Luaval stared intently at a small patch of bare ground, with specks of rock. His eyes flashed with magical fire several times in succession. When he had finished gazing at the ground, he rose to his feet and ordered:

Cloaking amulets set to maximum mode. Follow me exactly one step at a time. Defense amulets are also in maximum mode. Do not touch the battle wands yet, but keep them ready.

Did you notice something? Ciara inquired, intercepting the battle staff she had been given.

Footprints of kin. Fresh.

At once the fugitives were quiet and followed Luaval, trying not to breathe as much as possible. As they passed the spot where he had stopped, they could see the small, barely perceptible imprints of bare feet. They slowed further but did not stop. Now Luaval led the party as close to the side wall of the hall as possible, avoiding the open space as much as possible. At one point, the dark elf stopped the troop again. The reason was clear at once - ahead in the side wall was a passage to a cave, like the one through which they had entered the Underground. Luaval ordered them to wait and disappeared into it. He was gone for quite some time, which made the fugitives nervous. The dark elf returned as suddenly as he had appeared:

Follow me. At the entrance to the cave. There are signal strings. I've illuminated them. There will be a couple more signal traps on the floor, I've lit them too. Follow me, step by step.

He didn't have to say it twice. At the very entrance to the cave, across the most convenient passage, there were several strands, clearly recognizable through magical vision. A couple more, much less visible, were strung in two other places, between the rocks and stones at the sides of the cave. It was possible to pass through there, but a little more difficult. And these threads were barely recognizable; without Luaval's illumination, the fugitives would hardly have noticed them. But with his help, they managed to get past them and found themselves in a side cave. It seemed low and cramped after the previous hall, though in reality, it was not. The edges of the cave were filled with stones and rock fragments, but Luaval had forbidden them to go through the central, rather comfortable passage. Carefully following the dark elf's footsteps, the fugitives made their way to a bend where they could no longer see the entrance. There they found a fork in the road. Turning to the right, Luaval led the party behind him. Almost immediately, the cave narrowed sharply and began to go upward, steeply. It wasn't easy, and they had to move slowly and carefully. Then the ascent made another steep turn, and the fugitives came through a small and narrow passage into a relatively small stone hall. There were hardly any stones or rock fragments here, the floor was flat, and in the wall opposite the entrance, there was a fairly wide opening. Through it, they had a good view from a height of a dozen meters of the hall from which they had come. It appeared the squad had made a small detour back a few meters. Luaval gestured for the fugitives to stop, and slowly and cautiously walked around the hall.

In a couple of places, he would stop for a few moments or a couple of minutes. Then he'd keep walking. In a few places, he attached camouflage amulets to the wall. He walked around the entire site in a circle twice, then returned to the fugitives and spoke in a normal but quiet voice:

"We're good. We can camp here and rest. You can put your sleeping bags right here. The latrine will be in that corner over there, there's a special hole in the floor. After you relieve yourselves, pour the alchemy I gave you right away. But first, everyone drinks detox and half a flask of water, no more. After half an hour, you can eat, and then sleep. We'll recharge the amulets after we rest."

The exhausted men and dwarves silently obeyed. They took out their flasks and began to drink greedily, laying down their sleeping bags and shoulder bags with the equipment they had been given. Luaval seated the branded woman separately from the others, ensured she was all right, and carefully drank from her flask. The other fugitives were sitting on their sleeping bags. Only now, they were beginning to feel tired from the journey. While they waited for their meals, Luaval retreated to the cave from which they had all come. When he returned, the eldest of the dwarf masters said in a quiet voice:

"What is this place, First?"

"The Hunters' observation post, one of many in this hall."

"What?! Isn't it dangerous in here?"

"This is the Underworld, Honorable Master. It's dangerous everywhere."

"I mean, what if your kin come here while we're asleep?! You said they're close, didn't you?"

Sighing tiredly, Luaval sat down on a rock against the side wall of the hall so he could see both the cave passage and the great hall:

"We are very close to a very large city, Honorable Master. Antak na Shar'Dan is home to three Houses of my kin, and several representations of other Houses. All the places we went to were Neutral Territories in its vicinity. There are squads of dark dwarves or elves walking around here all the time. Scouts, patrols, hunters, miners, and more."

"Still, what if they come here while we're resting?" The visibly nervous master persisted.

The rest of the fugitives tried not to show any sign but listened intently to their conversation. Taking a sip of water, the dark elf replied in a calm voice:

"I've already answered that question, honorable master. If we're spotted first we'll be killed at best, but I wouldn't count on that kind of luck. If I spot them first, there are options. And before you ask, I'm in no hurry to die. That's why I've carefully scouted all the approaches to this place and placed my signal amulets. And I can also tell you there hasn't been anyone here for quite some time."

As he finished speaking, Luaval took another sip of water, rolling it around in his mouth. He was walking without alchemy, so he didn't need water badly. But he was simply thirsty.

"What about their signaling threads at the entrance?" The eldest of the dwarves couldn't stop himself.

"These threads were installed a long time ago, and from all the entrances to the cave by which we came here. And they lead to this very room so people there will be aware of the danger. There are enchanted signs on that wall over there, turn on magical vision mode if you want to see them. If the threads were touched, they'd glow. It's a pretty simple system. It's not installed not against sentient beings, but from animals. To protect against the same Hunters, the threads would have to block the entrance completely so no one could get through. Or they'd have to be thinner and more inconspicuous."

"Speaking of stealth, I don't remember that breach, and I was looking at the side walls of the hall," said Ciara, who was holding up much better than the others.

"Illusion. Look closely at the edges of the breach, honorable sorceress."

"Hmmm... Indeed! Such skillfully executed."

"Of course. There are plenty of people in the Underworld who can sense magic very well. It would take a lot of work to disguise such a convenient observation post from them."

"How did you find it? Or did you know about it?"

"Experience. I didn't know specifically about this post, but I knew there had to be one in this room, and more than one. And also where approximately it should be found."

"Tell me, Honorable First, will those winged... creatures not fly in here?" Andrea asked, sitting close to her kinswoman and mentor and glancing at the breach every now and then.

"Squeakers? No. They never live in caves like this. The ceilings are too low, and predators could easily get them here. They only live in halls with high ceilings, water, and stalactites. By the way, their meat is quite tasty. On the surface, it's considered a delicacy."

It reminds me a bit of chicken, and it goes especially well with hot sauce and red wine," Gion said unexpectedly.

Seeing the surprised looks of his companions, the young man explained:

"My house trades with a clan of dark dwarves who live under the western shore of the Middle Sea. Quite valuable partners, though extremely difficult to communicate with."

"In merchant parlance, the goods are great, but they always want to fuck you up and fuck you out," said the youngest of the dwarves.

Smiling, Gion replied:

"You could say that, honorable master."

Taking a sip of water, he looked at Luaval:

"Tell me, honorable First, how much farther do we have to go?"

"Not too much. With any luck, we'll get to the right place the day after tomorrow. They'll meet us there."

"By the way, why didn't you put that stinking stuff on," the eldest of the dwarves suddenly asked.

Everyone else immediately looked at Luaval, only now paying attention.

"I don't need it. I use Grey Dust, it completely eliminates any body odor for quite some time. And before you ask. I don't have much of it. And it's very expensive."

The foreman, who had already opened his mouth, closed it with a disgruntled look. It was funny, considering that he, like the other fugitives, was covered in odor suppressant. It was a good thing they didn't know how bad it was at washing off.

"Okay, it's been half an hour, we can eat."

Luaval, having set an example, took out his flask of liquid mohlum porridge. Taking a sip, he couldn't hold back a smile. It had been a long time since he had tasted his native cuisine. It brought back memories right away. But for the others, the taste of mohlum porridge was an unpleasant surprise.

"Whoa! Gross! How can you eat that!" Andrea grimaced.

"Silently. And just so you know, girl, it was all I had for lunch most of my youth. As you can see, I didn't die."

The sorceress' apprentice was faintly comforted by this, and with her face full of misery, drenched in the odor-repelling compound, she took a few more sips.

"I guess you didn't have a pleasant childhood," Gion said diplomatically, trying not to show how much he didn't like the food either.

"I survived it, and that's the most important thing. My other relatives weren't so lucky. Everything else is just a little thing."

The hint was taken, and then everyone ate and suffered in silence. Except for Luaval. No, it was understandable that mohlam was not the tastiest of foods. But it was nutritious, and if grown properly and in a good place, it was also very useful. Having finished eating, the dark elf put away the flask and said:

"Ask."

Ronan jumped on the spot in surprise.

"What? I didn't..."

"I can see the question rolling on your tongue. You can ask it, but I can't promise you an answer."

Licking his lips, the boy glanced at his mentor, then at Luaval, and finally made up his mind:

"Is it true that you, I mean, dark elves, are forced to fight each other to the death during training?"

There was silence in the hall. Everyone looked at Luaval with interest and apprehension. Well, it was an expected question:

"Nope."

When they heard the answer, everyone relaxed faintly. As it turned out, it was for nothing.

Kain na Har, the Last Chance Duel, is held after the First Trial, which is the final of the first stage of a youth's training. It is held only among those who failed the First Trial. If there are more than three, one of them will be given a chance to rehabilitate. Whoever survives is considered to have passed the First Test. But that doesn't happen very often. There are usually fewer than three who fail.

"What's happening to them?"

"Nothing good."

There was silence in the hall for a few seconds. Then, Andrea asked the question:

Tell me, why was the dark elf whose footprints we saw walking barefoot? It's full of sharp rocks.

Smirking, Luaval shook his head:

"It wasn't an elf, but an elfess. Most likely, the eldest of their squad. She walked barefoot, most likely because it was easier to feel the ground beneath her and the world around her. Especially if you've been practicing, developing the sensitivity of your feet to feel the slightest vibrations of the ground. Sometimes, this skill is much more valuable than sight."

And some smug bitches like to go barefoot on outings, so they can make you lick their feet as punishment or reward. But you don't want to know about that," Luaval thought to himself as he made sure the telepathic hoop was off. Before anyone could ask another question, the dark elf asked, turning his attention to the shaman's daughter.

"Girl, are you okay?"

Sinha, sitting on the edge of the room and had been silent the whole time, flinched and raised her slanted eyes to the dark elf. She stared at him for a second, then nodded hastily.

"Hai, I'm fine, First-San."

Sighing, the dark elf leaned forward and spoke in as friendly a voice as possible:

"Girl, I can tell you're not feeling well."

She flinched again in response and looked away shamefacedly.

"I... I hear the voices of the Khao-tan of these lands. I try not to listen, like you told me, but I can still hear them. Their voices are much louder here than they were in the beginning. It's hard not to hear them. They're... different than the ones my mom talked to, and the ones I talked to myself. They're... heavier... meaner... burning."

The slanted daughter of the steppes put her arms around her knees and buried her face in them.

"I told you, let me know if it gets tough."

Sighing, Luaval rose and walked over to her, holding out a small metal disk with a leather strap.

"Put it on your head. It'll make it easier, it'll muffle the voices. Tomorrow will be harder because the Fire of the Deep comes very close to this part of the Underworld. That's why it's so warm, but it's also why the spirits of the underground fire are so strong. If it gets really bad, be sure to tell me."

She nodded gratefully and put the amulet on her head so the disk was pressed against her forehead. After that, her face brightened noticeably:

"Hai, that's much better! I can barely hear them now, only faint whispers. Thank you, First-San!"

"You're welcome. But I would ask you not to completely drown out the voices of the spirits of these places while you can. If you realize that we're approaching a place where there are few or no spirits, tell me at once."

"Hai. Are there such places? I thought there were Khao-tan everywhere. Even Dad had his own Khao-tan at home. Not like Mom's house, but he had them."

"There are such places, and they are not few. Somewhere they simply cannot be. As a rule, these are places with strong negative energy, as scientists say magus. Or, more simply, places where magic is fading and almost ineffective. In other places, their inhabitants themselves specifically drive them away and keep them away."

"Like what?" Gion inquired.

Turning to the young man, Luaval replied with a faint smile:

"For example, the hive cities of the Illithids."

After these words, there was silence in the small hall, and all the fugitives felt uncomfortable. Andrea shivered and asked timidly:

"Are there any around here?"

"The nearest one I know of is a three-day journey from Antak na Shar'Dan. My way, not yours. And on the other side. There is an office in the city, albeit a very small one."

"How does anyone even tolerate these brain-eaters alongside them?" The youngest of the dwarves grumbled.

"There are many reasons. The Illithids pay quite generously for slaves if they can't take them away by force. And not just in gold. They are also quite skilled in Mind Magic and by nature. For example, they can be called upon to open or bypass a prisoner's mental defenses if you don't have your experts or don't trust them. Some people use them to process slaves. If you need a fully obedient living puppet, brainiacs are one of the best masters. However, when working with them, you need to be extremely careful, and constantly reinsure yourself. Personally, I wouldn't do any business with them, lest I end up in Meyer's shoes."

"Who?" Ronan raised his eyebrows.

"Have you not heard of Nicholas Meyer?" Luaval asked in surprise, looking at Ciara.

The sorceress coughed and said in a slightly strained voice:

"Its story, in the form of a separate lecture, is usually read in the penultimate year of study. They have not yet reached it."

"I've heard that name before," Gion said, "and in a very unflattering way."

"Quite expected, considering what that idiot has done," Luaval grinned.

After looking at the interested looks of the young men and both dwarves, the dark elf shrugged and said:

"About five hundred years ago..."

The damage caused by the former magister of elemental magic Nicholas Meyer can hardly ever be fully assessed. It is calculated not only and not so much in money. How to estimate the ruined mind of a brilliant scientist, a skillful specialist, or a talented student? His pride, unhealthy ambitions, and inflated ego have affected many honorable people and equally honorable representatives of other races. We can only say with certainty that it will take decades to recover what has been lost. And in order to prevent such a tragedy from ever happening again, the Council of the Academy has made decisions...

Excerpt from a lecture by Cassandra de Neirat, Master of Mind Magic Associate Professor of Mentalism at the Neirat Academy Department of Mentalism

"Spawn of the abyss, that was close! Master Meyer, we have to go!"

A tall middle-aged man in a dark blue robe embroidered with silver patterns, leaning on a magic staff, nodded to the commander of the mercenary squad. From the very beginning, this long-awaited and promising expedition to the Underworld had not gone well. First, they ran into a patrol of dark dwarves, then it turned out that the hall leading to the desired area was flooded, so we had to go around, and now this! Looking around, the experienced and skillful wizard spat angrily at the nearest corpse killed by a lightning strike. It was a large orc, with skin pale from lack of sun. Scattered across the floor of the wide underground cavern were the bodies of several dozen more dwarves, humans, two dark elves, and even one lizard. They were all dressed in identical plain cloth pants and were holding tools, mostly pickaxes. Against skillful and experienced mercenaries, and the Academy did not keep others, they were not opponents, but grease for blades.

Except they weren't required to win the battle. Their task was to delay the sudden guests, to buy time for their masters, which they did quite well. So among the corpses of half-naked slaves lay the bodies of mercenaries. Some had blood pooling from their eyes and ears. Some had had their throats cut by their hand. Others had killed each other. Some of the dead had already been dragged aside to the cave wall by their surviving comrades, where they were stacked, having first gotten rid of everything of value. It may seem cruel, but each of them knew what they were doing. This is the Underworld, there is no time or opportunity to bury fallen comrades. Much less take their bodies with them.

Nicholas spat angrily at the nearest corpse and walked over to the camp, which had been destroyed by battle magic. The camp looked like the remains of some hideous and bizarre monster, as all its buildings were not built, but "grown". Even a first-year student, let alone an experienced master, could not fail to recognize the classic architecture of the Illithids. The brainiacs, of which there were only three in the camp, lay at its very center. From here they struck their coordinated blows at the surface dwellers who had invaded their territory. Not with fire or lightning, as Nicholas liked and knew how to do, but with thought. It was a disgusting success, almost a quarter of the squad had been slaughtered. It was good that he was always protected and camouflaged. The Illithids realized too late who the main threat was, and were unable to repel his prepared strike. So what have they been doing here?

He stopped beside the bodies of the slain creatures and looked around. Apparently, the brainiacs had been mining stone wood, which was abundant in some parts of the Underworld. Damn it, couldn't they have mined elsewhere? Damn things, now we have to go back, too many dead and too many consumables wasted. And the next expedition will not be organized soon enough, this one had to bite the budget out of my teeth, and almost a third of the funds were allocated from his pocket. Damn creatures!

Clutching his staff, Nicholas was about to burn the bodies of the bloody brain-eaters in anger. But at the last moment, one of the illithids, the largest of the trio, clad in a peculiar dark purple robe, twitched all four of its facial tentacles and wheezed. Cursing, the Magister bounced aside, grabbing his staff. The nearest pair of mercenaries rushed toward him with a curse, drawing their blades to finish off the agonizing creature. But a moment before they would have slaughtered the brain-eater, Nicholas shouted:

"Stop! Don't touch him!"

"What?!"

"Bring my things! There's an anti-magic collar, shackles, and healing alchemy."

The commander of the mercenary squad stared at the wizard. His subordinates followed suit, many of them visibly tensed.

"Magister Meyer, that thing."

"It's worth a great deal of money, captain. They'll pay enough for live Illithid to cover most of our expenses. Especially for such a large specimen. And even if it dies, the alchemists will be happy to take it for ingredients, which are also worth a lot of money. So we'll take the other two corpses with us."

For a few moments, people threw tense and confused glances at each other and at the wizard. Then, greed overcame fear.

"Do as you're told! Hurry up before that thing dies! Just be careful! Magister Meyer, are you sure..."

"More than enough. One wounded creature in shackles is no threat. Besides, I'm not stupid enough to work with him without protection."

"All right. Goddamn it, hurry up, he's blowing blood bubbles!"

* * *

"All the best to you, Captain. Yeah, it's a real shame that thing died on our doorstep. I guess fortune didn't favor us this time. Please, here's your share for selling the brain-eaters. The alchemists were thrilled. Give it to your boys, along with my deepest condolences to the friends and family of the dead."

"Thank you, Magister Meyer. It's a shame about the boys, but they all knew what they were getting into. Expeditions to the Underworld can be rich, but the risks are enormous."

"Indeed. I dare not delay you any longer."

After parting with the commander of the mercenary squad and giving him the agreed share for selling the corpses of the brain-eaters, Nicholas escorted the guest to the door, once again expressing his condolences. When the door closed behind him, the magister waited until he was far enough away, even though he had activated his manor's defenses immediately. Only then did he allow himself a satisfied smile. Still, the art of illusions and enchantments was not one of his favorite schools of magic. But he managed to fake the death of his trophy quite successfully, so none of the mercenaries had any suspicions. That's a very good thing! Especially good that they managed to sneak the brainiac into the city without revealing the fact that he was quite alive. Albeit very weakened.

Nicholas once again praised himself for his foresight when he went down to the basement of the manor where his laboratory was located. However, a specially equipped cage for keeping dangerous magical creatures was very expensive, and not every experienced wizard spent money on its purchase. Nicholas spent, though he used it quite rarely because he was not a monstrologist. Now, the purchase had paid for itself. In it, on a soft bed, curled up in a ball, lay a wounded Illithid, stripped of all his robes. His light purple skin was very pale. He wore shackles around his neck and the wrists of the limbs that could not be called arms. But he looked noticeably better, not trembling or seizures, and his bright orange eyes glowed dimly but clearly. The treatment and abundant... nutrition had had an effect.

In front of the creature on a wide platter lay the severed head of one of the brain-eater slaves, with the whites of its eyes rolled back. And his brain was eaten out. Before leaving, the mercenaries had cut off the heads of all the slaves they'd killed and piled them into two full chests, enchanted to keep them cold. They had trouble entering the city at first, but Nicholas quickly explained the situation to the commander of the guards. Nicholas quickly explained the situation to the commander of the guards. And sincerely sympathized with the master because of the failed expedition. During the journey, the brain-eater had eaten more than one head, but there was still a decent supply. When Nicholas appeared, the Illithid turned its dimly glowing eyes to him. He sat down in front of the cage, making sure that all the protective amulets and charms were working, the magister said:

"I see you're feeling much better."

"What do you want, human?"

The brain-eater's voice rang out directly in his mind, though barely audible. Both, because of the creature's weakness and mental defenses. Or rather, calling it a voice wasn't quite right. Illithids communicated only by telepathy, so it was more like thought images, which the consciousness perceived as speech with the appropriate intonation.

I want to make you a deal, wormface. By the way, that's a great name, it suits you very well. Now, Wormface. If you want to survive, you'll do what I tell you. If you don't, I'll just sell you off to the alchemists guild for your organs. I think they'll pay me enough for your brain alone to make it worth the trouble.

The Illithid lying in the cage barely moved the tips of its facial tentacles.

"Cooperation. Acceptable. What do you want, human?"

The creature's voice grew even quieter, and its eyes grew dimmer. The brain-eater had little strength, and even simple communication was taking its toll. Still, he'd nailed that thing pretty well! But now it might get him in trouble. Grumbling mentally, Nicholas walked over to the wall where the two chests stood. It was a shame to have to do it all by himself, but you couldn't let a servant near something like this. Not to mention the apprentices. The latter especially annoyed him. But what could be done if the rules of the Academy obliged each master to take and train at least two gifted ones? Those who had their children or younger relatives were lucky, they were blood relatives to whom they could pass on some personal secrets. But he had to train complete strangers. The offspring of a large trading house, who can't be dismissed out of hand. And you can't just pull up their skirts, though the girl has something to look at, a ripe ulcer that would have been married off long ago if she hadn't been gifted.

Well, that's all right, that'll change soon. The thought of it brought a satisfied smile to the Master's face. So even the process of extracting another meal for the brain-eater from the freezer chests didn't upset him too much. With the help of telekinesis, which he was quite good at since childhood, Nicholas picked up the bald head of a dark gnome with a luxurious beard, and through a special window launched it into the cage, right on the plate. Using the same telekinesis, he picked up the eaten head and sent it to the alchemical disposer, where it quickly began to decompose.

The brain-eater, at the sight of the food, immediately picked it up with its two front facial tentacles and pulled it toward him. He sucked what was his mouth to the dwarf's face, wrapped his tentacles around it, and began to devour the brain. It was not a quick process, for Illithids preferred live food. But it was too troublesome or expensive, so he could eat what he was given. If only it didn't do it with such disgusting sounds!

Waiting until the creature was satiated, making its eyes glow a little brighter and its skin color more saturated, Nicholas said:

"So here's what I want you to do...."

* * *

"It's a shame, Magister Nicholas, that your expedition has been such a failure. So much hard work, so many years of preparation, and all for nothing."

"What can we do, Magister Cyrus, that's life," Meyer sighed philosophically and took a sip of the excellent elven red wine.

His colleague at the Academy, who was an excellent master of various types of magical defenses, as well as ways to overcome them, followed his example. A sumptuous table was set before the two honorable wizards. A couple of maids, in somewhat revealing black and white dresses, were constantly moving between them, filling glasses and changing dishes.

"Besides, the expedition was by no means a complete failure. Yes, we didn't manage to reach the place where I still believe one of the ruined shrines of the Lord of the Depths is located. But we did get some trophies, which allowed us to partially pay it all off."

"Why are you so sure, my colleague, that it belongs to him? I won't argue about the possibility of his being there, but why the Lord of the Depths and not the same Mistress in the Dark, or any of the lords of the Hell? Even those few followers of the Lord of the Depths who still dwell on land build shrines to him underwater, and only underwater."

"Because, distinguished colleague, that hall was flooded for a long time, to which there is much evidence..."

Dinner went its way, as did polite conversation on scientific topics. Nicholas was hospitable, and his colleague, with whom he had a fairly even relationship, relaxed for a moment. Of course, when visiting another mage, especially a master, one should never let one's guard down. But if everyone around you knows about your visit if you are coworkers and serve in the same Academy. If food and drink are triple-checked. If your defenses work perfectly. If you know your master's strengths and weaknesses. It's still a good idea to be vigilant.

As Magister Cyrus experienced firsthand. The attack was sudden and pinpointed. And it was not the lightning Nicholas liked or the flame he liked a little less. It was a powerful, but extremely narrowly focused magical negator. It dissipated almost a third of the guest's defenses in an instant. He almost had time to react, even though he was a little drunk. Almost.

The psionic attack, calibrated and delivered at the right moment, achieved its goal. The victim didn't even realize he had been attacked. Magister Cyrus was even surprised when jumping to his feet, he suddenly, instead of urgently strengthening the defense... Completely turned it off. By himself. He had no time for anything else. In the next instant, the Master's eyes dimmed, and his face, twisted with anger, smoothed out and became completely blank. Just like the maids on either side of the table. Nicholas was the only one with a face of extreme contentment.

"Good work, Wormface. You have three hours. Get started."

The Illithid that had been there all this time, carefully disguised, floated out of the next room and moved the tips of its long facial tentacles.

"As you command, master."

He moved to the basement with Cyrus, who was following him obediently and began work under Nicholas's watchful eye. Magister Meyer was not very good at Mind Magic, though he had taken a full basic course, as a master should. But his own defenses and the shackles put on the brain-eater should be more than enough to suppress any disobedience on the part of the creature. Yes, of course, they had to be weakened, giving the creature about a third of its former capabilities. A bit nerve-wracking, but if you kept your guard up, no problem. Especially here in the lab, where he'd prepared in advance for a possible attempted Wormface rebellion.

But Magister Meyer's fears were unnecessary. Illithid, who was still not fully recovered, obediently obeyed the order, and then, with the newly activated magic suppressors, returned to his cage, where another meal was waiting for him. Nicholas went upstairs in the company of the same emotionless colleague. An hour later, Magister Cyrus left his colleague's house in a very high mood after a wonderful evening.

* * *

Mentor Meyer, I've finished my assignment.

With a barely perceptible smile, Nicholas, who was sprawled out in his chair, said:

"Let me take a look."

Standing up from his desk, his student, wearing only shoes, stockings, and a corset that left her breasts exposed, walked toward him, heels clomping on the floor. Looking at her, Magister Meyer couldn't hold back a carnivorous smile. She had a good figure and was rounded in all the right places. She stood in front of him and held out a scroll with a neatly drawn ritual circle. From it in all directions stretched arrows with notes, describing what part of the circle is called, what it is for, and how it interacts with others. After looking through it, Magister Meyer smiled and said:

"That's in general correct, but you messed up the properties of the top node and the bottom side node. That's two mistakes, sweetheart. And you know what that means."

The student, who had previously demanded to be addressed respectfully by her first name only, made a completely unhappy face as if she were about to cry.

"Please, Mentor Meyer, let me fix this! I..."

"Of course, you'll make it up to me. After you've been punished for your inattention."

Biting her lip, the student who had worn him out with her obnoxious temper, reinforced by her rich and powerful relatives, trembled. Then she obediently leaned her hands on Nicholas's desk, bent down, tucked her elastic ass, and spread her legs wide. Magister Meyer went behind her back put his palm on her right buttock and began to knead it roughly. The student trembled even more. How long had he dreamed of this? Nicholas swung wide and slapped her, causing her to shriek and jerk her body forward from the impact. Her smooth white skin immediately turned red, and tears welled up in the eyes of the unaccustomed student. Nicholas grinned and swung again, slapping her on the other buttock. Then, with both hands, he squeezed the student's ass with force. That's a good one! And now that Wormface had worked on her head, it was almost perfect.

With a predatory grin, Nicholas unbuttoned and unzipped the robe. He was not wearing underwear underneath. Taking a small bottle of body oil from his pocket, he poured it liberally over the girl's ass and crotch. Some of the liquid, Nicholas's telekinesis poured into both of her holes, and the rest of it coated his cock. Then he wiped his hands with a handkerchief and pressed himself against his student, who stood obediently, bent and spread her legs. When she felt his cock between her legs, she trembled even more and swallowed nervously. But she didn't even squeak, obediently waiting for the "punishment". Grinning contentedly, the Magister reached forward with his right hand and burrowed into her thick and curly light red hair. Clutching at it, he pulled and forced the girl to straighten up, while with his other hand, he began to grope her small but lovely and firm breasts. Burying his face in her hair, Nicholas whispered in her ear:

"Well, let's get on with the punishment for the first mistake...."

Having no problem penetrating from behind inside the squealing girl, he immediately took quite a fast pace, holding the clutched student by the waist and enjoying the narrowness of her lubricated ass. It had been some time since the drastic change in his teaching methods. He had trained the sassy girl quite well. She finally took her proper place. After the first time, her ass even had to be treated with magic and healing alchemy. But now, no problem, it's a pleasure! Grinning contentedly, Nicholas squeezed his student's nipple with two fingers and used a weak lightning spell. She cried out loudly and instinctively clenched, which gave the magister great pleasure. He had been taught to do it by his older companions in the fun times of his student days, and over the years he had honed his skills quite well.

Satisfied with the result, Nicholas continued to "punish" the student, periodically encouraging her hardened nipples with weak lightning. Feeling the approaching finale, the master accelerated his movements, and in a few moments, he finished, piling on the uncomplaining student. For a minute Nicholas regained his breath, simultaneously enjoying the closeness of the young woman's body. He slipped his hand between the girl's legs, pulled her lower lips apart, and pressed the most sensitive point of her cunt with his index finger, using the same weakened lightning spell.

The effect was expected, but no less pleasurable. With a loud scream, the student arched her back and tensed. A moment later, she collapsed on the table, breathing heavily. A moment later, she wet herself, yellow streams running down her wide-open legs, staining her stockings, shoes, and the study room floor. With a contemptuous grin, Nicholas, who had stepped aside beforehand, said:

"You wretch, you've stained everything again! Get some rags and mops from the maids and clean it up properly! Without magic, with your hands. Then redo the task, I'll check it later. And don't think I've forgotten your second mistake. Understand?"

"Yes, mentor," the girl said in a slurred voice.

Nicholas grinned at her and pinched her firm buttock in farewell, then buttoned his robe and turned to her brother. He, not paying any attention to what was happening to his sister, was just finishing painting the elements of the ritual circle. When he came up to him, the magister took a quick look at his work and nodded:

That's right, Diyar. Take one of the maids and go to your room to rest.

"As you command, mentor."

After handing over the scroll with the completed task, Nicholas's apprentice stood up from the table with a satisfied face and left the study room. He didn't pay any attention to his sister, who was still lying on the table in a disheveled state. Smiling contentedly, the magister followed him out of the study room and headed for the lab. On his way, he came across the servant girls scrubbing the floors twice. All of them were dressed in black and white maid dresses, but with rather short skirts, which, when bent over, made it possible to see the complete absence of undergarments. In addition, the dresses left their breasts completely exposed. As he passed the first of them, Nicholas reached out and pinched the girl's nipple, applying a loosened zipper. She gave an adorable shriek in response, blushed, and then giggled. It looked incredibly seductive and gave aesthetic pleasure. He caressed the other one between her legs as she bent over, which made her crotch and firm ass completely open in front of the master. Receiving a discharge of weakened lightning into the most sensitive part of her pussy, she cried out loudly and finished immediately. Her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor, and a moment later, just like Nicholas's student, she wet herself. Her face was unmatched. Leaving the maid to mop up her puddle, the magister went on his way.

Nicholas went down to the laboratory and to the cage where his new assistant was sitting, which made the magister's life noticeably more pleasant. Wormface had almost completely recovered and began to look noticeably better. His skin had lost its pallor, and his orange eyes burned brightly. The illithid was currently sitting in a comfortable chair, dressed in a black robe made of a silky black fabric that did not irritate his delicate skin. On the floor in front of him lay a wide silver platter with the heads of two dark dwarves whose brains Wormface had just finished. This, by the way, promised to be a problem in the near future. The brain-eater's appetite was atrocious, as he had to spend a lot of energy recovering from his injury. Standing next to him in the cage were two completely naked people. A slender adult woman with a strict haughty face and her brown hair gathered in two tight bunches. Her figure was quite attractive, thanks to some good rejuvenating alchemy. The other was a stout man, lean, with short dark hair and a short beard. His body was covered with old scars in many places.

They stood on either side of the Illithid, staring at nothing in front of them. They were the governess and the main bodyguard of his beloved students, the ones assigned to watch over them and write reports to their caring father. Nicholas sat down on a chair in front of Wormface's cage, put his foot on his leg, and said:

"I see you're done with them already?"

In response, the brainiac defiantly moved its right front facial tentacle. At the same instant, the man and woman raised their right hands, sat down, stood up, jumped, turned on their axis, bowed, and stood still again. All this they did synchronously, and without the slightest mistake.

"Their pathetic minds are at your mercy. They will do whatever you wish. Master."

The illithid's speech was much clearer, but that was understandable. The creature had grown stronger. At first, Nicholas was a little alarmed, but the Wormface was completely subdued and did not show the slightest disobedience. In addition, he was still in magic-suppressing shackles and collars, which Nicholas never loosened by more than a quarter, and only in his presence. Or when Wormward was working in his cage, like now. What a lucky find this illithid had been!

"All right, then. No more work for today. But in a couple of days, we're gonna have a rather difficult visitor. But I'm sure you can handle it."

* * *

"I must tell you, Nicholas, that I was surprised at how easily you took the failure of your expedition to the Underworld."

The woman sitting in the chair across from Magister Meyer was wearing an elegant blue and white robe that accentuated her slender figure. Her long blonde hair was gathered into a luxurious ponytail, and her gray eyes, despite her polite tone, were cold. There was hardly any makeup visible on her clean and pale face, though she had definitely applied cosmetic alchemy. Otherwise, she wouldn't have looked so young and attractive in her years.

"I was more than disappointed at first, Cassandra. But I wouldn't call it a total failure. I did get some trophies. And the most important thing I got out of it was experience. And that's why I've invited you here to talk to you. As you know, the reason for our failure was an unexpected encounter with a trio of Illithids. And while their slaves were dealt with without the slightest difficulty they caused quite a bit of damage with their abilities. Therefore, I wanted to consult with you, as one of the best experts in the school of Mind Magic, is it possible to create any effective defense against their attacks? The ease with which they pitted the mercenaries against each other, or burned their brains, even though they all had protective amulets...

"They won't help in this case," Cassandra sighed tiredly.

"What?"

"Or rather, the usual amulets are of very little use against them. Illithids are still studied rather poorly, for obvious reasons. As well as the limits of their capabilities and abilities. But it's safe to say that their abilities are not the pure form of Mind Magic we're used to. Their techniques are... how can I put it so that a non-specialist would understand... They are much more flexible and broader than those of a roughly equal Mind Magic adept of other races. And they can change the type and degree of effect on the victim on the fly. It's long and complicated to explain, if you're interested Nicholas, we can arrange a course of lectures on the subject. For now, I can tell you that mental defense against the magic of Mind Slaughterer requires great strength and skill. And the threat from them grows in proportion to their numbers. The more of them, the stronger they are. Therefore, in all documented cases, their hive cities have been destroyed with powerful magic from a great distance, and either golems or undead have been used as assault troops. But even a single Illithid, if it has a connection to its native hive, can be very dangerous."

"That's very interesting, Cassandra. I'd be interested in learning more about it. How much would a full course of private lectures cost?"

"What specific topics do you..."

The woman didn't have time to say anything, jumping to her feet and throwing her hands in front of her. Fucking asshole! That bitch! Nicholas cursed and rushed forward, throwing the discharged one away and snatching up the second negator of magic. The first one successfully dispelled some of her defenses, and Wormface immediately launched an attack. But it turned out that Cassandra's mind defenses were much better than Cyrus'. She was able to fend off the first attack of the Illithid in the next room, albeit not without losses. And right now she was hurriedly creating a protective barrier around herself, activating all her amulets, including the alarm amulet, which she had managed to block so far.

Nicholas felt his stomach chill with fear as he discharged the second negator of magic, which broke through the nearly complete barrier. The problem was that he had to capture her without hurting her, or else... Oh, that was it. Wormface's second attack through the gap in the partially dispelled barrier proved decisive, breaking through Cassandra's defenses. The woman staggered to the floor, shaking her head from side to side with all her might. She put one hand out in front of her, still trying to create a protective barrier; the other pressed sharply to her forehead and clenched her eyes shut, trying to knock the intruder out of her mind. But she couldn't resist the Illithid that floated majestically into Nicholas's office from the next room. He froze above her, hovering in the air. His eyes burned with orange fire, and his facial tentacles, which reached to his waist, vibrated and twisted finely. After a moment, Cassandra calmed down completely. Her breathing evened out, she rose smoothly to her feet and opened her eyes.

As he approached her, the brain-eater swiped one of his facial tentacles across her face. He did it very carefully, almost gently:

"A marvelous mind. Beautiful. Attractive."

"Yes, yes. Start processing, Wormафсу, we don't have much time! She's only given me a couple of hours."

Turning to Nicholas, the illithid bowed his head in a barely perceptible bow.

"Of course. While I attend to her mind, call the rest of the slaves. Master."

* * *

"I have to tell you, Nicholas, you should have been demoted to Junior Master for such a joke," Cassandra said unhappily.

Magister Meyer chuckled stupidly in response:

"Come on, it was really funny! You should have seen your face when you saw Wormface, it was something! To be so scared of my harmless pet! Isn't he adorable?"

Cassandra didn't have time to answer, for at that moment one of the illithid's facial tentacles slipped its end into her open mouth as she sat on his lap with her legs spread wide. She moaned and began to lick it diligently, with the same displeased look on her face. It was clear, though, that Cassandra's displeasure was more contrived, and she hadn't been angry for a long time. Two more of Wormface's tentacles wrapped rings around the enchantress's small breasts, the tips tickling her hardened pink nipples. The fourth facial tentacle slid freely over the Mind Magic Master's body with the brain-eater's upper limbs.

Nicholas's fully naked student was kneeling in front of her, licking her between her legs diligently, one hand caressing himself. His face expressed the deepest pleasure. His sister, wearing only shoes, had just finished lubricating the anus of her mentor leaning on the table with special oil. After that, she put the woman's lifesaver strapped between her legs and inserted it into him, making Nicholas grin gloatingly, despite the unusual and not very pleasant sensations. That's right, you little wretch, serve your mentor like some harbor wench. To think of the haughty daughter of such a noble family pleasuring him with a lady savior in his lower back. How humiliating! Your father should see you, you wretch! Nicholas chuckled involuntarily at the thought, at the same time feeling the pleasure gradually increasing, overshadowing everything else.

At the same time, all the other servants of his estate and the servants of his apprentices were in the study. In pairs, the servants and maids were copulating with each other in all sorts of ways and in all sorts of positions. Completely oblivious to the other people, or the brain-eater sitting in the chair. The room was filled with the moans and groans of the orgy in progress. But if an outsider were in Master Meyer's office and saw what was going on there, he would notice that all the people in it were moving in the same rhythm. Synchronized. As if they were parts of the same whole. One network. One hive. The eyes of the Illithid, who was exploring the naked sorceress's body with all four tentacles, flashed with orange fire in time with the movements of the people who were copulating.

* * *

"Welcome back, Mentor."

Nodding respectfully to the bowing apprentice, a tired Cassandra handed him a street cloak. She was exhausted. The conversation with Nicholas was worse than a full day of classes at the Academy. She wanted to sleep. Passing the student the bastard son of a distant maternal relative, Cassandra headed upstairs to her private quarters.

Order dinner to be served in my room, Jasper, and not to be disturbed until morning.

"As you command, Mentor."

Good boy. She drew him close to her and took him on as an apprentice for two main reasons. One, he had an obvious talent for magic. And the second was his good looks. As a boy he had an angelic face, but now he had grown into a handsome man. She didn't give a damn about the gossip about their relationship. Largely because no one dared to say anything to Cassandra's face. The fact that the de jure bastard of a distant and not-very-wealthy relative was also completely dependent on her was another reason why she had brought him closer to her.

Walking up to her room, Cassandra simply dumped her robe and underwear on the floor. There was no energy to hang them properly. She was exhausted from this meeting. And she had to be at the Academy first thing tomorrow morning. Ouch. Putting on a robe over her naked body, the sorceress sat down on the sofa in front of the dressing table and took a jar of face cream. Beauty, especially at her age, which she never advertised aloud, required careful care and maintenance.

Just as she was finishing her makeup routine, there was a knock on her room. Covering her eyes, Cassandra concentrated, made sure it was Jasper, and opened the door with a mental command. The apprentice, tray in hand, stepped cautiously into the room.

"Your dinner, Mentor."

"Put it on the desk, Jasper."

"As you wish, Mentor."

Bowing one head, the young man cautiously made his way to the desk. A good boy, a great helper both at work and in bed. She could marry him off to a nice girl in a...

The student suddenly threw the tray aside and made a sharp lunge towards his mentor, aiming at her head. She managed to raise her hand at the last moment, but could not avoid the blow. A small metal rod with a spherical tip touched Cassandra's neck at the base of her skull. The artifact flashed with a bright light, and the sorceress twitched and fell to the floor. Her apprentice, whom she had managed to catch with her hand in a reflexive attempt to ward off the blow, fell to the floor with her.

* * *

"Mentor Cassandra! Mentor Cassandra, please wake up!"

"Mmm..."

When she opened her eyes, the sorceress saw the ceiling above her, the frightened face of her apprentice, and immediately grimaced from a severe migraine. It took a few seconds to realize where she was and what was going on.

"Jasper, what's going on..."

In the next instant, her brain was pierced by lightning, and the spellcaster's gray eyes opened wide. She sat up abruptly on the floor of her room, her arms outstretched, and her apprentice flew away with a startled squeak. Luckily for her, it was precisely on the soft and wide bed. Cassandra jumped to her feet, closed her eyes, enveloped herself in a translucent spherical barrier, and froze inside. Simultaneously, all the weaves of her manor, both protective and combat, came to life, locking onto her. If someone were to look at the sorceress with magical vision now, he would see that she was driving her energy through the energy channels with maximum load and speed. Tensing her thin body to the limit, literally glowing with magic, Cassandra stood for almost a minute, while the whole house was buzzing from the afterburner mode of magical weaves.

When she finished checking herself, the sorceress opened her eyes, her face twisted with anger. And at the same moment, she bent in half and vomited profusely on the floor. Wiping her mouth with her hand like a commoner and spitting bitter bile onto the floor, Cassandra hissed angrily:

"Bastard son of a bitch! Brainless idiot! Bastard!"

"Mentor?"

Straightening up, the sorceress turned to the frightened student lying on the bed looking at her with horror. She exhaled and ran to him taking the uncomprehending young man into a tight embrace. He was even more frightened, not understanding.

"Jasper, my boy, you've earned your reward today! Next time, I'll let you be on top, on the bottom, wherever and however you want! But first, we have to deal with one freak right now! Get ready!"

Jumping out of bed, the sorceress began to hurriedly dress. And in a combat version, at that.

"Mentor, I don't understand what's going on! Yesterday, I brought you dinner, and suddenly, I threw myself at you...."

"It was my insurance policy, in case someone managed to subjugate my mind. If you had heard me call you Yasper instead of Jasper, like your mother and grandmother, you would have unknowingly taken a special artifact from my hiding place. A very powerful Wand of Purification, combined with a mold of my mind. And you would use it on me without realizing what you were doing."

"I mean... Wait, someone managed to bewitch you?"

"Yeah, and not just anyone, but a three times goddamn brain-eater!"

"But where..."

"In the house of that jackass Nicholas! He lured me into a trap! I didn't expect an attack like that, and couldn't fight back. All I could do was apply a billet to my mind, which erased the memory of the rod and your billet, and fixed in my mind that you should be called Yasper."

The dazed young man stared square-eyed at his mentor, whom he had never seen so furious. Fully dressed in her battle robe and wearing her protective amulets, Cassandra ran over to the growth mirror and awakened it, summoning the city council and the Academy by emergency method.

* * *

With a foul curse, the commander of the assault group of battle mages spat angrily at the ruins of the manor. He shook his head as he turned to the Academy masters who were approaching:

"He's gone, bastard! He's made the portal, wormfaced bastard!"

Cassandra looked around in frustration. The entire street where Nicholas Meyer's manor had been located was in ruins, strewn with the bodies of fighters and bystanders. There were still magical flames burning in some places, which could not be extinguished easily. And not just on this street.

The bloody Illithid lurking in the estate of the now-former Magister Meyer had managed to run its tentacles quite deep and wide. And when Cassandra raised the alarm, the creature knew almost immediately that it was exposed and sent a mental command to its obscenely numerous puppets. Many of whom didn't even know they were such. In the city, fights, arson, and murder broke out quite suddenly in many places. Among the city guards, students, teachers, and even a couple of Academy Masters. The townspeople and visitors to Neurath didn't realize what was even going on. All of this slowed the preparations for the assault and gave the creature time to escape.

While her puppet, a former magister of Elemental Magic, was fighting off the attackers, using the advantages of the home and prepared position, the Illithid, with the help of one of the Academy graduates who specialized in Spatial Magic, managed to force his way into his native Underworld at the cost of a huge amount of energy. And even managed to get a bite to eat on the way.

After examining Nicholas Meyer's corpse, with its brain completely chewed out, Cassandra said in disgust:

I'm surprised the brain-eater found something edible in his skull. What kind of idiot wouldn't kill a thing like that and try to use it?

"A very dangerous idiot," the chairman of the Academy Council said grimly.

"What do we do now?" asked the commander of Neyrat's city guard.

"We need a thorough inspection of the citizens of the city and the students of the Academy. And the other towns must be notified! And the Forest and the Foothills. Who knows how many people this thing has worked on and how many puppets it has now?" Cassandra immediately blurted out.

"It's not going to be easy..."

"So the sooner we get started, the better."

* * *

"Mmm, yeah, like that."

Cassandra sat on the sofa in front of the dressing table and leaned back against Jasper, who was sitting behind her. The last month had been a busy one, where the word vacation had been forgotten as a concept. Only now, when the turmoil had subsided a bit, was it possible to return to the manor and have a proper rest in the company of the faithful handsome apprentice. That right now, gently and diligently rubbed skin cream on the body of his mentor. He paid especially close attention to Cassandra's breasts, much to her immense pleasure. Smiling at her in the dressing table mirror, the young man kissed his mentor's neck affectionately as he continued to massage her breasts.

"Mmm. Okay. Keep going."

Cassandra smiled contentedly and almost purred. How good and pleasant it felt to be in the arms of a faithful and caring lover. Warm. Cozy. Safe. Leaning back further, she placed her hands over his palms, guiding his rhythmic movements. To stroke. Squeeze. Press on her nipples. Stroke. Squeeze. Press on the nipples. Stroke. Squeeze. Squeeze. Stroke.

Without noticing, Cassandra dozed off in her apprentice's arms. Jasper continued to massage her breasts with a faintly satisfied smile. With the same movements. The same rhythm. Only when he was satisfied that she had fallen completely into a trance he let himself exhale and smile contentedly. It worked.

How unexpected and fortunate everything had turned out to be. The first-class Wand of Purification, which had washed away his mentor's mind of both her own preparations and what the Illithid had placed there during the single session, had hit him, too. It also washed away most of what the mentor had done to his mind. It also washed away almost all of his mental defenses. As a result, when Jasper regained consciousness fairly quickly after the Purification, he found his mentor lying unconscious and practically naked on the floor at his feet, with an equally practically naked mind.

They say that Fortune smiles on everyone at least once in their lives. It's just that many people look the other way at that moment and miss her smile. Jasper did, and he took his chance. Bringing an unresponsive and helpless Cassandra into a controlled trance was easily accomplished. He was a diligent student, and she was a pretty good mentor. After that, she did the rest of the work herself. Completely removed the remnants of her influences on his mind. Then, replaced them with compulsion bookmarks tuned to herself. So that when she checked the students' mind, she would react to them and immediately make sure that the student was still completely loyal and under her control. In the end, though, Cassandra helped him create and conceal a pathway into his own mind, tying its beginnings to a simple erotic massage. Which she loved so much, and which he gave her so often. At times, not with his hands. Well, it was time for the promised reward.

"Mentor Cass, it's time to wake up."

Blinking, the Mind Magic Master opened her sleepy eyes, staring into the reflection of the mirror on the dressing table in front of her. Smiling, Jasper straddled her B-size breasts and began to lift and lower them. Up. Down. Up. Down. One up, one down. The other way around. Cassandra watched her tits move in the reflection of the mirror without looking away, and Jasper asked in an affectionate voice:

"Cass, can you hear me?"

"Yes."

"Good. Listen to me carefully, Cass. You're very beautiful. I love you very much. And you'll be even more beautiful if your breasts get a little bigger. Think about making your tits bigger. That's a good idea, Cass."

With those words, Jasper squeezed his mentor's breasts harder as he continued to raise and lower them.

"Do you understand me, Cass?"

The sorceress, not stopping to watch the reflection of her boobs replied:

"Make the tits bigger. That's a good idea. I'll think about it."

"That's right. Think about it. It's a good idea, Cass. Now, it's time for you to go to bed. Sleep well, my dear."

Blinking a few times, Cassandra closed her eyes. After a few minutes, her breathing became steady and calm. After a couple more minutes, she woke up in the arms of her faithful and caring student. A month later, Master of Mind Magic Cassandra de Neirat decided to make a small change in her appearance.

* * *

The hardships of the agentess of the Elf Queen.