My raid into the dungeon went quickly and without any problems. After retrieving another gray cube with a small shinbone inside, I spent a few hours swimming in the river of monster mana, then resurfaced, where Myrta was waiting for me, sitting on the cockpit of the boat. After making sure the dungeon was left untouched, she nodded, and we set off again, this time toward the city of Shama — the last major city before the border of the Western Empire.

  Setting a course on the navigation map that we were supposed to cover in ten days, I pulled out Roma’s grimoire and started reading. Thus began the long, slow days where I tried to understand the high-circle time magic, while Myrta… I wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing, but she kept running around the boat, nibbling on some kind of greenery shaped like fruits I didn’t recognize.

  At first, I paid no attention to it, until, after a few days, I noticed her growing nervousness. What the hell was going on? I put the book aside and looked closely at the girl.

  Myrta had lost weight. It was noticeable even through her clothes. I pulled out a recovery pill and handed it to her.

  “Drink this. It seems like you’re sick.”

  She shook her head from side to side.

  “No, Master Aney. I’m just… hungry.”

  “What? Sorry, what?” — It seemed sending her to handle the supplies on her own had been a bad idea after all.

  “I’m… hungry…”

  “Show me what you actually bought for supplies.”

  Myrta pulled out several large crates of fruits from the storage. I waited a bit longer, thinking maybe there was more.

  “And that’s it?”

  “Yes, Master Aney.”

  “Would you care to explain your reasoning behind buying this instead of actual food?”

  “I… I can’t cook!”

  Well, of course, a princess wouldn’t know how to cook. I hadn’t expected otherwise.

  “And your faith didn’t allow you to just buy prepared food from restaurants, huh?”

  Damn it, she was about to start crying. Why does this always happen to me?

  “Alright,” I decided to calm her down and steered the boat toward the nearest forest. “I’ll teach you how to cook delicious meat. You do want meat, right?”

  “Yes, Master Aney, very much!”

  “What magic elements do you command?”

  “Water and wind…”

  “Then hunting a beast shouldn’t be a problem for you.”

  “Um, excuse me, hunting?”

  “To cook meat, you need to hunt it first. Or buy it, if you have the chance. Remember this truth forever.”

  There was plenty of wildlife in the forest, yet even so, we spent almost an hour before Myrta finally managed to hit one with an ice arrow. We would have spent even longer if I hadn’t subtly guided the arrow and the creature with my aura to ensure they met.

  I lifted the catch by the ears — a creature with gray fur, long hind legs, short front legs, and weighing about ten kilograms. Its herbivorous nature was clear from the shape of its teeth.

  “Good job! You’ve completed the easiest part. Now the prey needs to be skinned.”

  I handed her a dagger, which she gripped tightly in both hands, pale as a ghost. She stared at the blood gushing from the wound in the creature’s belly and turned a sickly green. She was going to throw up any second now, I thought.

  “Is this your first time killing a beast?”

  She nodded and bolted for the nearest tree, bending over.

  “How are you doing over there? You alright?”

  Without straightening up, Myrta waved a hand.

  “Master Aney! I’m not hungry anymore!”

  “Oh, is that so… Well, I’m hungry. Prepare this beast for me.”

  The red ribbon on my wrist warmed slightly. Hah, the contract was working… Myrta, swaying like a boat on rough waves, staggered back toward me.

  “Ma-Master hic! Aney… You’re the cruellest hic! person I have ever hic! met!”

  “Believe me, you’ll thank me later.”

  The girl picked up the dagger and approached the carcass lying beside me. Squatting down, she poked it a couple of times with the blade. Yeah, hopeless case.

  “Oh dear, look here.”

  I cut a branch off a tree, leaving about a few dozen centimeters from the trunk, and sharpened the end. Then, I stuck the carcass through at the knees and cut the skin in a circle just below. With a single practiced motion, I peeled the hide off like a stocking, right up to the head.

  When it came time to deal with the guts, Myrta bent over again and ran back under the tree. I had to finish the work alone.

  We could have just roasted the meat over coals, but I didn’t like doing things the easy way. I pulled out my alchemical cauldron from storage.

  “Isn’t that a high-grade alchemy cauldron?! Master Aney, what are you doing?”

  “What do you think? Cooking. Since you can’t. Now watch carefully and quit whining.”

  I activated second-circle magic and created a wall of fire spell, keeping it small, then set the cauldron to heat.

  “Preparing delicious food, Myrta, is no easier than performing alchemy. Sometimes, good food is even more valuable than some pills.”

  I pulled out some vegetables and the box of spices Mia had prepared for me back in Atun, and quickly cut the meat into small pieces, leaving the bones aside. Dropping a little butter in first, I seared the meat on all sides.

  “For example, I, as the God of War, technically don’t need to eat normal food anymore, but I still do sometimes. Do you know why?”

  “To not lose your humanity? Because abandoning the habits of ordinary people…”

  “Ahahaha! Strange theory, and a valid one, but no. For pleasure. Simply for the joy of it.

  I once survived for two and a half years on the deep dungeon levels without food, so trust me — all problems vanish when you sink your teeth into a piece of delicious meat.”

  With aura blades, I cleaned the vegetables, diced them, and sautéed them to make them tender. Once the meat had a golden crust, I tossed in the sautéed vegetables and spices. Then I added water and, after a moment’s thought, a quarter bottle of light alcohol.

  When the dish started boiling, I raised the cauldron higher over the fire and left it to simmer.

  “For you mages, food is even more important than for high-level warriors,” I said.

  “I understand, Master Aney. You didn’t give me this lesson for nothing. You must already have ready-made meals stored away, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do…”

  “You mean to say that before I can be of any use to you, I must first learn to take care of myself, so that I am not even a burden.”

  “I would have put it more gently, but overall, you said it correctly.”

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  The girl lowered her head.

  “Forgive me for being in your way!”

  “Oh, come on… In return, I have a good ship, and you are, let’s say… a bonus to it.”

  A delicious smell wafted from the cauldron.

  “Master Aney, I think it’s ready…”

  The girl reached toward it, and I saw her nostrils flare as she swallowed her saliva.

  “Hold it,” I slapped her hand. “It’s too early!”

  “Early? But it smells like…”

  “Wait. This is just the beginning. Better watch over the next hour how the aroma changes and blooms. When the transformation is complete, then—and only then—consider the meat ready. Understood?”

  Myrta nodded silently, her eyes glued to the cauldron. I tried to talk to her, but she only answered briefly, as all her attention was fixed on the slowly stewing meat.

  “Done!” I pulled out two deep bowls and filled them to the brim.

  “Finally!” The girl reached for one, but I swiftly pulled it away.

  “It’s hot, you fool! Let it cool a little first!”

  By the time we finished dinner, it was completely dark. I ladled the stewed meat into jars and pushed them toward Myrta.

  “Store them away before they cool down…”

  “Thank you, Master Aney! This is the best meat I’ve eaten in my life!”

  Of course it was. If I had to gnaw on green fruits for a week, I would have called any burnt sole the finest meat too…

  It was the first night in several days that she finally slept and stopped disturbing me by running all over the ship.

  Once again, I was reading Rom’s writings—this time about the subjectivity of time perception. Was I truly stopping time, for example, when casting the Stasis Spell, or was I merely accelerating myself within the spell’s range so much that everything else seemed frozen?

  But no, when using the Fourth Circle Acceleration spell, it was clear that only I sped up… Or was that merely a consequence of different levels of magic, while the principle remained the same?

  I constantly felt that the answer was close, just within reach… So why, damn it, couldn’t I grasp it?

  The range of the Stasis Spell… Range belonged to the category of space.

  For several weeks now, I had been pondering how to merge these two categories into one.

  Had I dared to voice such a theory in any magic tower, they would have burned me alive for heresy. Luckily, I had no intention of sharing my thoughts with anyone.

  Space. A category easily described by three dimensions: height, length, and width. Every object within could be represented by coordinates.

  Moving an object any distance would inevitably take time, since it was physically impossible to do it instantaneously; otherwise, all objects would exist everywhere at once.

  Everywhere at once…

  If so, what would happen if I altered one or two dimensions of space already influenced by altered time?

  Damn it!

  I pulled out from my stash a sketch of a magical seal I had drawn after the battle with the Crust in the dungeon.

  Yes, that was it… All those small seals around the perimeter of the great circle were descriptions of coordinate shifts in space, and the large circles themselves represented stopped time and altered space!

  How had I not seen it before?

  Thus, teleportation did not happen instantaneously, as everyone believed, but incredibly fast within a distorted space under frozen time!

  That was why it seemed instantaneous to an outside observer!

  It was just a glimpse of a theory I had only begun to understand, but even starting there was still a beginning.

  On the horizon, the city of Shama appeared, and I quickly gathered up the grimoires and scattered papers around me.

  “Wait for me here, I’ll be quick!” I called to Myrta and headed straight toward the city through the sky.

  This time, I intended to make a loud entrance—so loud the whole city would notice. I didn’t hold back at all.

  I hovered above the temple, where I spotted several churchmen observing my actions from the sidelines.

  “You won’t even try to stop me or say anything?” I addressed them.

  I despised people who would not stand up for their interests—even if they were thieves by my moral compass.

  They knew full well that after the altar’s destruction, their time would be running out.

  “You are but a breeze, sir.

  A breeze can tear old straw like me, but it shatters against the body of God into mere strands in His hair.”

  “Damn it, old man, what nonsense are you spouting?

  Your gods are nothing but two conmen living off stolen power.

  Want to see real God’s blood?”

  I began releasing the God’s mana, drop by drop.

  The first drop destroyed the roof, the second and third devastated everything inside, and the fifth caused the altar to explode, sending a beam of power for the White Twins into the sky beside me.

  Today, I managed to watch it carefully as it entered a spatial rift high above and disappeared.

  Maybe it would give me a clue to the whereabouts of the fake deities, since they were not physically present on the continent.

  Immediately after the altar exploded, the churchmen slowly began to transform into old men.

  They gazed at each other in sorrowful silence, feeling the deep wrinkles on their twisted fingers.

  “And that’s all you can do, sir? You are like a frog living at the bottom of a deep barrel…

  Is He truly a god if He can be bled?

  And can one bleed a god?”

  “You won’t live to see it, old man!”

  “I know, I know… sir.”

  The clerics turned around and slowly walked down the street. A few townspeople supported them by the arms, helping them stay on their feeble legs. I could see the silent, angry stares from the crowd below. Some hotheads among the citizens even tried to attack me for destroying the temple, but I quickly cooled their heads by slamming them against the cobblestones with my aura. Well, I guess my audacity will be remembered by everyone in this city. I raised my voice and shouted so that the whole city could hear:

  “People of Shama! If the Temple of the White Twins is rebuilt, I will reduce your city to dust along with all its inhabitants!”

  For a few seconds, I didn’t move, as if waiting for an answer that would never come, and eventually headed back to the boat.

  “What’s next, Master Aney?” Myrta asked as soon as I stepped onto the cockpit.

  “Next, we head for the dungeon and the Western Empire.”

  “Are you sure they’ll be looking for you there?”

  “Yes, for a while. It will give me time to quietly return to Matan.”

  “I suggest we choose one of the major cities of the Western Empire and enter it as the God of War, Aney, and the Princess of the Northern Empire, Myrta. Then, a few days later, we leave as completely different people. After all, fooling the aura-scanning devices won’t be a problem for you, right?”

  “Not really…”

  “Also, it’s better not to return to Lhote through the Northern Empire. I think it would be wiser to head north through the Western Empire,” she said, adjusting the scale on the navigation map and pointing out the route, “and from there, move through the small kingdoms and principalities.”

  “Why make it so complicated? That would make the journey almost twice as long.”

  “Master Aney, your portrait is hanging at every Imperial gate. Do you really want to kill everyone who recognizes you?”

  There was truth in her words. And as much as I wanted to get back as soon as possible, Myrta’s idea was worth considering.

  “We’ll also need to change our transport. No more boats or anything flashy. We need something unremarkable, something that blends in with the crowd.”

  I nodded; I had been thinking about that too. Discussing the route took up all the time until we reached the dungeon. I had to admit, Myrta’s knowledge of the continent’s geography was excellent. She easily explained to me all the trade, production, and social interactions between the cities, kingdoms, and even empires. For the first time in a long while, I saw real use in her.

  From the dungeon, I brought back only another rib hidden inside a stone cube. A few hours of bathing in monster mana was a pleasant bonus, allowing me to fully stabilize my lower level as a God of War. Myrta made sure I didn’t lose contact, and we headed the boat toward the border. To avoid any unnecessary attention, I spread my aura for kilometers around, scaring off border patrols not just from the Northern Empire but from the Western one as well.

  From the boat’s flight altitude, it was impossible to tell we had crossed the border—below us stretched the same boring landscapes of fields, steppes, and low forest-covered hills. Yes, I understood that this terrain, along with the mild climate, was the foundation of excellent harvests and overall food security for the densely populated empires. But watching it from above was boring.

  I wanted to steer the boat to the nearest city beyond the border, but Myrta stubbornly pointed to Ropto, which was much farther inside the Western Empire.

  “Myrta! Seven days! It’ll take us another seven days just to get there!”

  “Master Aney, Krulm, where you want to go, has fifty thousand people—you couldn’t even hide a needle there, let alone a God of War and an imperial princess! But Ropto is enormous, ten million people, not even counting the migrant workers from the surrounding lands. No one would find even the Devil’s trail there!”

  “But still, seven days…”

  She snorted and went down to the cabin, as if to say: you’re the boss—do as you like, but I warned you! Damn it, I selected Ropto on the map.

  In return, I pulled out all the books on water and air elements from the fourth to the sixth circles from my storage and forced her to study them. Of course, she objected, saying she only had three circles, but I insisted, arguing that it was merely a temporary shortcoming.