That night, I once again dreamed that I was in a dark cave, working by candlelight on some old manuscript, tirelessly correcting it, refining it, adding fresh pages with my drawings and notes. It was difficult to understand the texts, even though I could clearly see them, because of the many unfamiliar terms, but the drawings—I remembered them well, and I think I understood them.

  I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, as they say. My head was still buzzing from yesterday. Despite my gloomy state, I gathered my team, which had somehow acquired two more mages clinging to it like wet leaves, loaded everyone onto the boat, and lifted it into the air.

  I sat in the cockpit and had already been watching the lecture Pasque and Vyst were giving to my mages for several hours. It annoyed the hell out of me because I had expected Raman to start working with me on seventh-circle magic. Instead, he was sitting there on the deck near the bow of the boat, listening to that damned lecture. I had the sudden urge to smack him on the back of the head and knock some sense into him.

  Damn, what’s wrong with me? I blinked several times to get rid of those thoughts. But it wasn’t my self-control that rid me of them—it was Vasa, who appeared out of nowhere and sprawled lazily on the bench beside me, throwing her arm over my back in a familiar gesture. I glanced at her cautiously.

  Maybe some would even call her beautiful, despite the abundance of freckles on her cheeks and nose. Her thick black hair had been especially carefully arranged today to hide the bald spot on the crown of her head. I wondered, what was it about her that had caught Grim’s eye?

  “Dear Vasa, are you upset with me about Grim?”

  “What? Why would I be?”

  “Well, it seemed to me that he has feelings for you.”

  “Ah, don’t worry,” she waved her hand. “That idiot’s been trying to drag me into bed off and on for decades.”

  “And you…?”

  “Well, I gave him a good beating a few times so he’d keep his paws to himself… Listen, kid, why am I even telling you this?”

  She suddenly stopped, surprised.

  “It’s just my face, Lady Vasa. People want to tell me the truth.”

  “Ooooh! What an interesting gift you have!”

  I nearly smacked myself on the forehead. Gods, how can someone be such an idiot?!

  “So, what do you say,” she pulled me closer by the arm, “shall we go train?”

  I leaned back to the spot I’d been a few seconds earlier.

  “Dear Vasa, I’m piloting the boat right now, so we’ll have to postpone training until evening.”

  “Ah, busy…”

  Behind us, someone snorted with laughter from the stern. Munk! Damn it, how long had he been sitting there?

  “Dear Munk…”

  “Ha-ha-ha,” Munk waved his hand. “Vasa, I’m training Aney today, or your hairstyle won’t survive another round!”

  “You bastard, think you’re stronger than me now? Did you forget how I used your spine to level out rocks ten years ago?”

  Vasa jumped onto the stern and tossed Munk off it, then leaped down after him herself. I leaned over the side of the boat, watching as they playfully beat each other up. Well, her lack of sense was certainly compensated by the strength of her fists—credit where credit’s due. Even Munk wasn’t her match here.

  I watched them for a few minutes, making sure nothing serious would happen, since they weren’t even using aura, then returned to my usual brooding over the group of mages. As before, the silence and flickering of scaled-down projections of high-level spells reigned supreme.

  An hour later, a battered Munk returned and sat beside me, wiping blood from his smashed nose.

  “Crazy woman, all these years and she’s still the same.”

  “Dear Munk, have you known each other long?”

  He swallowed a recovery pill and wiped his hands with a napkin.

  “Vasa? Yeah, a long time. Since the dark times, when we were just ordinary warriors.”

  The dark times?! How old were they already?

  “Tell me something about those dark times, dear Munk. I only know it was an era of wars and that there were no gods yet.”

  “What’s there to tell. There were wars, sure, but not as grand as people claim nowadays. And there were gods too—the Judge’s Eye and the Green Temple. But they didn’t pay much attention to humanity, letting us live by our own minds. Everything changed when three humans decided to become new gods and began their ascension. That process started so quietly on the continent that no one noticed. But when the fog lifted, it was too late. And then the great war began. But to be honest, it wasn’t a war of humans anymore, it was a war between those three who wanted to become gods. You already know two of them—the White Twins. And the third, who opposed them, was a guy named Arun. Your teacher, Kruk, knew him well, since he served in his army. In the end, Arun fell, taking millions of lives with him and, through his death, tore a rift into the demon world, now known as the World Fracture. Kruk became the God of War in that battle, protecting Arun to the very end. I don’t think he’s ever made peace with that loss.”

  “And you were in the army too?”

  “Us? We and Vasa were just simple warriors in the White Twins’ army.”

  “You mean you saw Kruk in that battle?!”

  “Idiot, if we’d met him in battle, we wouldn’t be sitting here now. We only watched from afar as he, on par with a Battle Ancestor, tore our Gods of War to shreds! Ha-ha-ha-ha, just like you nearly tore Grim apart yesterday. I’m sure Vasa saw the young Kruk in you yesterday—just like I did! What a crazy coincidence! If only you knew how we envied his strength back then… Eh, better ask your teacher himself about that battle.”

  “Dear Munk, unfortunately, I don’t know where Kruk is right now.”

  “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to him. Even if many want to harm him, few can act, and openly opposing Kruk—well, that’s basically suicide.”

  “I just wish I knew where he was.”

  Munk shook his head.

  “Not in the Northern Empire, that’s for sure. If your teacher has to hide, there’s only one place on the continent—the World Fracture. Even the White Twins can’t find him there. I’ve been blabbering too much. I’ll go check on Vasa, she’s probably kicking herself again for beating me. Happens every time…”

  He jumped off the stern and walked off against the boat’s direction. Strange folks, all these Gods of War… I’d already met four of them on my journey, and each of them seemed a little unhinged. Maybe it was just their age? And mages weren’t much better—just remember that Romas guy… His head was so full of holes no healer could patch them.

  I wondered—if all their mental issues were age-related, then what about the gods? They were even older. A shiver ran down my spine at that thought. It was entirely possible the continent was being ruled by two senile old men. A sort of retirement-home dictatorship… Yeah, no thanks!

  I looked again toward the bow of the boat. Would they ever stop their chatter? I mentally commanded Raman several times to come here and tell me about the seventh circle of magic. No use—if telepathy existed in this world, I definitely didn’t possess it. The day slowly drew to a close, and Vasa appeared beside me once more.

  “Kid! Now it’s time, and don’t you dare make excuses!”

  I spread my arms and landed the boat in some field. Provoking a Goddess of War would’ve been foolish. Even if she herself wasn’t exactly a genius.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  We rose several hundred meters into the sky together.

  “Same rules?”

  “Yup!”

  Sure!

  But as soon as I activated the magic, she thrust her palm forward and shouted:

  “Don’t touch my hairstyle either!”

  Alright, alright, I wouldn’t have touched it again anyway—it hurt.

  Today, I managed to hold out against her a little longer, but the result was still predictable—in the end, Vasa knocked me to the ground and, sitting on top of me, pummeled me with her fists until I admitted defeat. At night, it was Irgen who healed my bruised self as best she could, lifting my spirits—and not just my spirits.

  And so passed our long days of travel toward the capital. I spent my days sitting in the cockpit, watching the mages and cursing Raman to the depths of hell. Then, each evening, Vasa beat the spirit out of me, and Irgen patched me up through the night. After about seven days, I became agile enough that the Goddess of War had to chase me down for at least an hour to land her beatings. I even got used to dealing her more serious blows.

  “You little shit! I’ll rip off those arms of yours and shove them up your ass!” she screamed every time my strikes hit particularly well.

  Yet, despite those threats, whenever she did manage to catch me, she never crossed the line and always stopped in time. Even if she did injure me, it was never too badly. One recovery pill was enough to get me back on my feet after training.

  “Hey, Vist wanted to talk to you…”

  Vasa said as we both sat in the cockpit, watching the mages at the bow of the ship.

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Dear Vasa, then let her come talk to me herself.”

  “No, she won’t come herself—you promised to kill her.”

  I looked at the sky, trying to remember if I really had promised such a thing. Oh, right, I did scream something about killing them with Pask.

  “Alright, I won’t kill her.”

  “Hey, Vist!” Vasa shouted across the deck. “He won’t kill you! I made a deal, so now give me that magic belt like you promised!”

  The delighted Goddess of War flew into the sky and vanished. Wait a second—was I just traded?! Damn harpies! Vist ran up to me lively, wasting no time.

  “Aney, I have a few questions for you!”

  Oh gods, here we go again. She’s going to start asking how I use magic… But… Then my face stretched into a smile.

  “Dear Vist, of course I’ll answer all your questions—but on one condition. Do you agree?”

  “Yes, that’s fair. What’s the condition?”

  “You’ll teach me seventh-circle magic!”

  “Uhhhh, but seventh-circle magic can’t be taught… Didn’t you know?”

  I glanced toward Raman. But he promised… We had an agreement…

  “Seems like you really didn’t know. Magic of the seventh circle and above is so individual that the mage must come to an understanding with the surrounding mana themselves. It’s impossible to create a seventh-circle spell that can be used by two or more different mages. Every mage of the seventh circle and higher creates their own spells—let’s say, by negotiating with mana… For example, your friends Irgen and Gruss already have the seventh magical circle around their hearts. But does that make them seventh-circle mages? No, because they can’t use such high-level magic. And they may never be able to in their lives—it all depends on them. Some mages are lucky and find answers in the towers of magic, but most never cross that threshold before death.”

  Damn it, how could this be? The rector promised to… explain the theory of seventh-circle magic. And now I’d heard it—pretty much all of it. In just two minutes. I felt used. I sat back on the bench near the artificial horizon device.

  “But,” I said, pulling out the seventh-circle space element grimoire I bought at auction, “look, there are even grimoires—mages write them…”

  “Yes, some mages share their achievements. I write them too. But they’re only useful for reference—other mages can’t learn from them. It might even hinder them… Aney, this explanation probably doesn’t satisfy you, so you can name another condition…”

  “No, dear Vist, a deal is a deal.” I activated my magic circles. “I just adapted standard spells to myself—watch as much as you like.”

  I was at a dead end. How do you ‘negotiate’ with something you can’t even feel? Was this some cruel joke of fate?

  “Excuse me, I need to take a walk!” I said after half an hour, and deactivating my magic, leapt up.

  Damn it, I hit a ceiling as a warrior, and now in magic I’m stuck below the seventh circle? That’s not fair! I stopped over a low, grey outcrop of rocks and began smashing them.

  “Did Vist make you that mad? Fine, you can kill her—after she gives me that magic belt she promised.”

  “Dear Vasa? Why are you here?”

  “Well…” She sat on a broken rock. “I’m just walking.”

  I sat beside her. Uh-huh. Just walking here. Sure. I believed her.

  “Dear Vasa, why do you care? Why are you so concerned about me?”

  Idiot. What’s the point of asking that? She basically runs on instincts. And her main one is punching people in the face.

  “Aney, do you think I don’t know I can’t brag about being smart? All my life, people who got close to me used me for their own purposes… Well, except for Munk, maybe. The only thing I’m better at than any of the other Gods of War of the Northern Empire is my strength… But even I’ve realized that strength without intelligence is nothing. And you… You’re different! When you become the strongest, and your name rings across the continent—that’s when people will know that I trained you! That’s my goal!”

  Holy hedgehogs! I didn’t know whether to laugh at her or cry… How pathetic this all was…

  “Dear Vasa, I don’t want to upset you, but you’ve picked the wrong candidate.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.”

  Vasa was deep in thought, counting on her fingers.

  “That can’t be! Where did I go wrong?”

  I sighed heavily.

  “Dear Vasa, I’m unlikely to become any stronger than I am now. Most likely, the Battle Ancestor is my limit.”

  “Pfffffff. Pff-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Who told you such nonsense?!”

  “No one, I came to that conclusion myself, since I haven’t made any progress for almost half a year.”

  “Half a year? Ha-ha-ha-ha! You really haven’t made progress for a whole half year?!”

  “Yes, dear Vasa, so…”

  “Oh… Wait, let me laugh a bit more, I finally met a fool bigger than myself, ha-ha-ha-ha! Oh, boy, how old are you now?”

  “Exactly twenty-three.”

  “Ooooh, do you know who I was at twenty-three? A second-class warrior. Want me to tell you when I became a higher-grade Battle Ancestor? At one hundred and eighty-five. Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! A twenty-three-year-old Battle Ancestor saying he’s reached his limit… ha-ha-ha-ha… That’s the best joke I’ve heard in the last hundred years!”

  “Dear Vasa…”

  “Wait, I know what can help you, I’ve been through this many times!”

  “What?”

  “A good beating!”

  She grabbed me by the leg and threw me high into the sky. Damn, I wasn’t ready for that! I didn’t have time to brace myself when a solid hook to the jaw sent me flying even higher. I saw stars in the clear blue sky.

  She’s going to kill me! Her foot was flying toward my face from above. I crossed my arms to block and caught her by the calf, trying to toss her away from me. Useless—only I went flying, losing my balance. No, in raw strength I was no match for her. Vasa’s fist was heading for my jaw again. I raised a shield of aura, covering it with spikes.

  “Ouch,” she cried out as I spun through the air, “you broke my nail!”

  An hour later, we were sitting again on the rocks I had shattered. I was chewing restoration pills and trying to pop my dislocated shoulder back in place.

  “Let me help.”

  Vasa slipped her hand under my armpit and, pressing my shoulder to her chest, gave it a sharp jerk upward.

  “Ow!”

  “Aha. So, how’s your head now? Told you it helps.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, dear Vasa.”

  She laughed.

  “The youth is always in a rush. I was the same. You know, don’t try to count the days or months… Just work, daily and diligently. It doesn’t matter how many times you have to repeat an exercise to perfect it—a thousand or a hundred thousand. Just do it. And then, without stopping, move on to the next one. Got it?”

  “Yeah, dear Vasa.”

  “So, shall we go?”

  “Dear Vasa, I have a question. What is the main difference between a Battle Ancestor and a God of War, in your opinion?”

  “Hmmm. If you ask me… Gods of War have spheres of defense and attack!”

  “Spheres of defense and attack?”

  “Yeah. The defense sphere is defined by the distance from the God of War’s center of mass to the tip of his main weapon. Only a few Gods of War, not weaker than him, can break through such a sphere. The attack sphere is somewhat similar to the defense sphere, but larger by half the length of the God of War’s arm. The attack sphere is usually the strongest offensive ability of a God of War.”

  I pondered, trying to understand what she said.

  “Don’t get it? Let me show you.”

  Vasa stood up and took a stance, grabbing two long sabers. So that’s her main weapon. In that stance, she seemed taller and even leaner. A wave of unknown power radiated from her, making me stagger. I looked at her intently. With just her appearance, Vasa already looked terrifying, like some death demon. I realized she was now very, absolutely deadly dangerous.

  “Watch closely, Aney!”

  Vasa made a move. Just one move, it seemed, but at the same time, there were millions of them. Around her formed a sphere of the cutting edges of her blades, instantly turning the rock she stood on to dust. I was now looking at a living steel sphere, frozen in the air, with the Goddess of War inside.

  No, I wasn’t looking right! I sharpened my senses and saw Vasa inside. Oh gods! Her body was wrapped in living steel! There wasn’t a single gap left to poke even the thinnest needle. I spent a few minutes watching her every movement, trying to understand and remember this miracle. Finally, she stopped.

  “Got a good look?”

  And you couldn’t even tell she had made millions of saber moves in those few minutes! She wasn’t even out of breath! I nodded.

  “And now, the attack sphere.”

  Vasa again formed a steel sphere around her, but this time it was about a meter wider in diameter. Sometimes, like from a steel sun, metal flares shot out with a screech, tearing space itself to shreds. I peeked inside — this time, that mass of living steel was at a distance of about half her arm’s length. Now, right now, I finally understood the core principle of these two abilities, and my mind feverishly pondered if I could create something similar with a spear in my hands.

  “Thank you for this lesson,” I said, bowing. “You’ve helped me a lot!”

  “No problem,” she waved her hand. “So, to break through a defense sphere, several Gods of War need to join forces. But there’s a dangerous catch—when the defense sphere of the attacked God of War is almost broken and about to fall, he can suddenly turn it into an attack sphere, dying himself, but with a high chance of taking several attackers with him to the other side.”

  “Has that ever happened?”

  “Yeah, once I saw it with my own eyes. Five Gods of War attacked one for several days. In the end, in desperation, he did it, taking four of the five attackers with him.”

  “Dear Vasa, you’re saying the battle lasted several days?”

  “Yes, why is that strange? An average God of War can maintain a defense sphere for about two weeks. It’s especially useful in fights against mages—it protects against high-level spells, which are powerful but, luckily, short-lived. True, the defense sphere works poorly against time and space magic, but such mages are extremely rare, so we can conditionally call this protection almost absolute.”

  “Thank you again, dear Vasa.”

  Well, after the beating and the lecture, my sorrow disappeared like magic, and I saw not yet the path, but at least the direction I needed to move toward.