Two men on horseback were approaching their destination — the vilge of Nespeky, near the town of Kolin. The surroundings confirmed the grim state of things: fog, dense coniferous forest all around, and a cold, piercing wind from the mountains. The only thing that brought Oleksandr any sense of life were the occasional songs of birds. He was terribly afraid — this was his first mission. But Taras, riding ahead, wasn’t afraid at all. A light, content, rexed smile and sparkling eyes made that clear.

  Oleksand thought: I will definitely become like him. I will complete the mission, no matter the cost.

  Oleksandr: Sir, are you sure you don’t need a weapon? Maybe there’s something in the vilge you could take.

  Taras: I don’t need one, but you’d better calm down or turn back right now. Otherwise, I’ll have to ride to the orcs alone. — he said in a casual and cheerful tone, as if unaware that his words were insulting Oleksandr.

  Oleksandr: This fear is only because it’s my first mission. I can handle it — I have no other choice.

  Taras looked at him piercingly, then barely smiled again and silently continued riding.

  Oleksandr thought: He doesn’t believe in me? Or maybe he’s just remembering his younger self? What’s going through his head?

  Oleksandr: Do we have a pn? Is there anything I should know?

  Taras: There is no pn, because we don’t know exactly what happened there. When the time comes, I’ll give you an order. Just remember one thing — always follow my commands and don’t do anything without them. Understood? No initiative on your first mission. And always stay by my side, always.

  Oleksandr: Yes, sir. I promise.

  Taras gave no response and continued staring ahead at the vilge. The vilge consisted of about a dozen cottages — some tidier, others dirtier — spread across two streets, one wider and more worn. Occasionally, eyes peeked at them from inside the cottages, but no one met them outside. Somewhere, a fence was broken; elsewhere, a window shattered. On the main street — a rge puddle of blood and the trail of a body that had been dragged away. Both men dismounted and waited. Oleksandr, upon seeing the puddle, clutched his stomach — a wave of nausea hit him hard, but he held it in...

  Taras: People! Hey there! — he called out in a bright voice. — I need to speak with you!

  Oleksandr was stunned by his commander’s bluntness at first but then straightened up, as if it were completely normal.

  After a few minutes, three young men appeared on the street, two holding clubs. The one in the center, the biggest, was unarmed. Taras raised a hand in greeting, but got no response until all three were standing in front of them.

  The biggest one: Why the hell are you shouting, freaks? Who are you?

  Taras: I’m Taras, and this is Oleksandr. We need information about an orc group in the area.

  The biggest one: And who the fuck are you supposed to be?!

  First with a club: That second one has the mark of the Order of Jehovah — they're from there.

  The biggest one: Well then, what do you have to say?

  Taras: I don’t have much time, but maybe this... — he pulled a pouch from his pocket — ...will help us understand each other. — He handed it to the biggest guy, who found it stuffed with gold coins. — I want to know what’s going on here, in detail. — His cheerful smile never left his face.

  The biggest one: Holy shit.

  First with a club: Fuck, maybe they’ve got more.

  Second with a club: Yeah, yeah, let’s ask.

  The biggest one: Empty your pockets — he said with extra arrogance, eyes still fixed on the gold.

  Taras: Well, negotiations failed. So did the gold. Let’s move on to method three. Run! — he suddenly shouted and dashed toward one of the houses, Oleksandr following behind.

  The biggest one: Ha-ha-ha! After them, fuckers. Goddamn, idiots. — On his command, all three chased after them into the empty house, where Taras was standing in the middle of the room, staring at them, firm and indifferent.

  He stood still, showing no emotion or reaction one would expect in that situation — just waiting for something. Somewhere behind him stood Oleksandr, hand on the hilt of his sword, but not yet drawing it. His hands were trembling.

  The biggest one: Kill them both. — he said calmly and proudly. Seems like they didn't do for the first time.

  The first guy with a club stepped forward, raised his arm at Taras, and... froze. His whole body halted right before his club would have struck Taras’s head. Almost as his body stopped in time. No, that's not it - like it was maniputed, controlled like a puppet, and the current command was a loud and clear "Halt!". Though his body was frozen, his face was still active. First came confusion, then effort to move — but he couldn’t — followed by fear, and then panic.

  Second with a club: What the hell are you waiting for, Petro? Yo, fuck! — he shouted, seeing what had happened to his friend.

  Oleksandr, thinking: What’s happening? I felt a surge of mana from Taras — so precise and focused... I’ve never met anyone with such masterful control over their own mana. And that spell...

  Reflexively, the second guy also raised his club to strike, and just before it would’ve hit — he froze as well. He had never felt anything like this in his life. Now he understood one thing: the man before him was a mage — and not just any mage. The biggest guy realized it too. So did Oleksandr. For a moment, the entire room revolved around Taras — he now decided everything that would happen there. Every breath and movement of the four belonged to him.

  Taras: So, as I said, I don’t have much time, so... — he said in a cheerful yet more assertive tone, then reached out to one of the frozen boys and blew up his arm. The explosion shredded the limb into bloody pieces. Agony twisted the boy’s face, but he couldn’t scream — even his lips and vocal cords wouldn’t obey.

  The biggest guy turned to flee — but froze mid-turn. Then his body turned around, again like under a mind control, and dropped to its knees, his eyes locking with Taras’s.

  Taras: Listen carefully, and maybe you’ll live. What do you know about the orc gang hiding in these parts? Speak clearly and precisely.

  The biggest one: I... They came a month ago, started robbing and killing. Recently they holed up in the monastery on the northern hill, started demanding people, and... we had no choice. We...

  Taras: How many are there? - he said with a distant and professional calmness.

  The biggest one: About thirty.

  Taras: Are they watching the vilge?

  The biggest one: I don’t know, honestly. Maybe.

  Taras: There are prisoners, right?

  The biggest one: Yes, yes.

  Taras: How many?

  The biggest one: I don’t know — from our vilge, six women and two men, but they might’ve gone to the nearby town too.

  Taras: Do they come to the vilge often? If I go there, what’s the chance they’re all in one pce?

  The biggest one: I-I don’t know. Sometimes one or two come to the vilge, but tely it’s been less frequent. I don’t know why.

  Taras: I think that’s enough. Now — sleep. — he touched the boy’s forehead, and he colpsed to the floor as if dead. The others followed, dropping right after him.

  ---

  Alexander was still standing with his hand on the hilt. A useless observer — that’s what he was now. Just a few minutes ago, he had promised he wouldn’t be afraid, and yet here he was, standing behind his comrade, trembling with fear. He hadn’t even drawn his sword when they attacked Taras. He wanted to do it, truly wanted to — a great force pushed him to act, but at the same time, an opposite force held him back, and the tter won.

  Alexander: Are they dead? That was... that was mana draining, wasn’t it?

  Taras: Yes, — he said cheerfully. — But they’re not dead. I drained just enough mana for them to lose consciousness. They’ll wake up in a few hours. Let’s go. — he ordered and walked out of the house through the entryway.

  In the entryway, they were met by an old man, nearly at the age where one would already call him an “elder.”

  Elder: Hey. G-g-good day. What happened? A fight?

  Taras: No. They'll sleep for a few hours. Why?

  Elder: I saw what you did. A wizard from the city, aren’t you? Praise the Lord... And, well, maybe you need anything?

  Taras: Did you hear what I asked that boy? Was he telling the truth?

  Elder: Yes, yes. Just as he said. Scoundrels — the orcs came to the vilge. They wrecked my house, and they took my daughter. Oh Lord, help us — his tone suddenly changed, as if breaking down. He began to kneel. — Please save my daughter...

  Taras: Come on now. Old man, get up, come on...

  Elder: You're our heroes. I’ll give you gold, I have some hidden. Whatever you want...

  Taras: That’s enough, old man — he began calming him down, holding his shoulder. — It’s alright, no giving up now. Hold on, come on, get up. We’ll head to the monastry now. Just tell me clearly — was everything they said true? There really are around 30 orcs?

  Elder: Yes-yes, and they’re all big, strong ones...

  Taras: Right. And they’re all in the monastry, yes? Good. Everyone hide in your homes, and not a word about us to anyone. Your daughter will live, if she’s still there.

  Elder: Thank you. God bless you. Her name is Veronika...

  Taras: Alright, I got it. No more crying. Go to your house and wait. That’s all.

  ---

  After saying goodbye to the old man, the two of them set off through the forest toward the hill where the recently restored, luxurious Monastry of the Holy Mother stood — the orc group had taken it over. They rode silently on horseback, and Alexander was nervously reacting to every rustle.

  Alexander, thinking: Who is he, really? Very few mages can cast high-level spells — let alone Ira.

  They came onto a newly paved cobblestone path leading directly to the monastry courtyard gates. The monastry itself stood on a wide hill and could hold a hundred clerics. It consisted of two main buildings. The first — the public church, which was meant to welcome ordinary worshippers. The vilge had fewer than a hundred residents, so the town, located on the opposite side of the hill, was expected to be the main source of visitors.

  This temple was a rge, spacious structure with massive white columns decorated with golden ornaments, and at the center — a statue of the Holy Mother, carved from white marble. The second structure was a rge circur pza, about thirty meters in radius, used for more solemn occasions. Besides these, there were, of course, dormitories for the clerics and everything necessary for the monastery to function.

  Alexander: Taras, I don’t think I can do this, — he said in an uncertain voice, as the temple gates were now just barely visible.

  Taras looked at him with mild interest, but nothing more — no anger or annoyance.

  Taras: Why? Are you afraid?

  Alexander: I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry, — he said, eyes fixed on the ground.

  Taras: Ah... like I said. If you were scared, you should’ve turned back earlier.

  At that moment, a massive red orc colpsed onto the ground behind them.

  ---

  Veronika was sitting on a small, creaking wooden stool, reaching out her hand to an old woman. Her hand barely touched the woman’s neck and glowed with golden waves that slowly rippled outward.

  Veronika: It’s done. You should feel better now.

  Old woman: Thank you, sunshine, — she said, reaching with trembling hands into her blouse.

  Veronika: Don’t you dare. You don’t need to.

  Old woman: Oh, come on now, don’t be silly.

  Veronika: No, no. I won’t take it. I don’t want anything.

  The old woman: It’s alms, - she said convincingly, raising her eyebrows. - Take it, come on.

  Veronika: I don’t need the alms. Do you have lots of money or something? Tamara, take it back. Don’t put it on the table — take it.

  Old woman: But how can I not? — she looked at her, almost offended. — Take it, and I don’t want to hear another word.

  Veronika: Come tomorrow and give it then, alright? I’ve got nowhere to put it right now. Tomorrow — tomorrow.

  Old woman: Fine. I will come! — she said in a pyful, mock-threatening tone.

  Veronika: Alright, I’m off. Take care. Stay healthy.

  Stepping out of the house, she walked onto the main street of the vilge, where she saw two orcs standing over a boy. Both orcs were a little over two meters tall. One of them was wearing vish armor that partially covered his body, especially massive shoulder ptes. Parts of his red skin were visible, boasting enormous muscles without a trace of fat. Sure, humans could also be over two meters tall, but this monster was so massive he seemed much taller than two meters.

  Khal: Come on, chop him already, — he said arrogantly in a deliberately bored and disinterested tone.

  Boy: No, no. Please! A-ahhh!

  Have you ever heard someone scream as an axe slowly slices through their throat? It’s not just a scream — it’s a wail, a shriek you never forget. These were the sounds Veronika heard for the first time as she ran toward the two orcs.

  Veronika: Let him go! — she rushed to the second orc, who had already cut into the boy’s neck. Seeing such boldness, the orc swung at her, but she dodged, charged her hand with mana, and released it in an explosion that bsted the orc backward a few meters. She immediately reached out and healed the boy’s neck — the wound vanished in seconds.

  Khal gestured to his subordinate not to attack back and stared at Veronika with interest. Despite taking a point-bnk magical bst, the orc had only suffered a small burn on his torso.

  Khal: You healed him? Now come here. I’m gonna fuck you right here and now, — he said in the same arrogant, calm tone, like giving a command to a servant who should’ve already obeyed.

  Veronika: No, — she said, pcing her hand on her neck. — I’m a healer. I know you have sick people in your camp. If you promise to leave us alone and leave this pce, I’ll go with you.

  Second orc: Ha-ha-ha. Holy shit. Giving us terms?

  Khal: Shut your mouth, — he ordered. — Hm... — he paused. Then stood up and began walking toward her, stepping over the healed boy, who still y on the ground, too afraid to move. Closer, and closer. Veronika gathered all her strength, all her will, to do what she had promised and... she couldn’t.

  When he reached her, Khal spped her — so hard her ears rang.

  Khal: He-he-he-he-he. What a fine little bitch, — he touched her face, then her chest, and moved lower and lower, continuing to talk while Veronika froze with fear. She stood like a statue, trembling all throughout her body. — I like ones like you. You’re staying with me tonight.

  He effortlessly tossed her over his shoulder, turned, and walked over to the boy, who still y on the ground.

  Khal: Look. Look at your friend. Hey, look at her! — he kicked the boy, who then met Veronika’s gaze. — Now say: “I’m a pathetic worm and I don’t want to live anymore.”

  Boy: I’m a pathetic worm and I don’t want to li—

  At that moment, Khal stomped on the boy’s head, crushing it like a watermelon.

  Veronika: Ah! — she screamed and covered her face with her hands. She nearly vomited at the sight — especially because she was still bouncing on Khal’s shoulder as he carried her off toward the monastry. Veronika wept bitterly, but no one seemed to care. Many in the vilge had seen what happened from their windows, but not a single soul came out to help.

  ---

  Orc: Who the fuck are you?

  Taras: I’m a messenger from the city. I came to negotiate tribute in exchange for you not terrorizing the locals.

  The orc looked at both of them, then said:

  Orc: Follow me.

  Taras: Stay close to me. Don’t do anything unless I say so, understood? – he commanded with an unchanging faint smile on his face, which seemed to grow even wider. To this, Oleksandr only nodded and rode beside him with a look of despair.

  Oleksandr, thinkinh: He’s so calm. Yeah, I need to calm down too. But how are we going to beat them? How did I not think about this before? What was I imagining? I remember now—I pictured myself heroically fighting off all the orcs, flinging them with my magic. That I’d suddenly gain some massive power at just the right moment. Now I see everything so clearly, like someone took the blindfold off me. I don’t stand a chance against them. I only know explosion spells, fire, and basic healing. My only hope is this Taras. When he appeared in the city, the captain just said, “Follow him and do whatever he says.” He’s some kind of high-level wizard, that’s obvious. I need to stick close to him, no matter what. That’s my only chance to survive.

  Orc: Weapons. – he said when they reached the gates, where two more orc guards awaited them.

  Taras: I have no weapons, and my guard is required to always carry his sword.

  Orc: Fuck off, you human prick! Hand over the weapon!

  Taras didn’t move, staring stubbornly into the orc’s eyes.

  Taras: Look at him, he can barely stand. Let him keep his toy, or I’ll have to drag him along when he passes out.

  The two orc guards chuckled among themselves. The third, the one who had brought them, said:

  Orc: Fuck it, you won’t be leaving here alive anyway. Ha-ha-ha! – he roared with ughter, joined by the others. Oleksandr started gasping, only steps away from full-on panic.

  But Taras just smiled, as if joining in on the joke.

  Orc: What are you smiling at? Huh? – the orc barked at him, staring directly. Taras’s expression changed immediately.

  Taras: Sorry, please, just don’t kill us. Or at least make it quick. – he said in a pitiful tone, then chuckled awkwardly and scratched his head. All three orcs stared at him for a moment, then burst out ughing even harder.

  Oleksandr, in thought: What the hell is he doing? What’s going on? Is he acting, or... does he really understand that we can’t win by force? Ahh. – he groaned inwardly.

  They were led through a public temple, then a courtyard and garden to a private amphitheater. Both the temple and other areas were empty, except for two exhausted women cleaning up vomit or something like it from the church floor - the same church where the statue of Mary stood. Mary's breasts were painted with red circles and dots in the center, and arrows were drawn on her belly pointing to a certain pce.

  Taras: Two here. Where are the others?

  In the center of the amphitheater, two orcs were fighting like in a gdiator ring, while a band of other orcs sat in the stands cheering them on. What once had been a pce of noble dignity was now desecrated by their presence, not to mention the trash, blood, armor, and weapons scattered around. On the second level, directly across from the main path into the arena, sat Khal on a makeshift throne of wood and nails. On his p sat a young girl dressed like a nun, and beside him stood another woman — also exceptionally beautiful.

  The second woman wore loose clothing that revealed her chest through a decorative cleavage, as well as her slim waist and stomach, and her long, mostly exposed legs. Her hair was dark and adorned with jewelry at the top. It flowed freely in the wind. Her entire appearance radiated strength and elegant beauty. Her name, as we’ll learn, was Darya.

  As they approached, Taras met eyes with this woman. He nodded to her and looked around. There were about a dozen prisoners scattered around the arena, serving their captors.

  Taras: Yep. – he said and quickened his pace, confidently walking straight to the center.

  Loud, powerful cps echoed. First one, then two or three, and gradually every orc — even the duelists and Khal — looked at the source: a man who had walked past both fighters to the center with arms wide open.

  Taras: Orcish bandits! – he bellowed. His voice was utterly confident, formal, even a bit ceremonial.

  Oleksandr stood behind and to his left, staring at him, wishing he could disappear. Veronika also looked at him. Though she still felt disgust sitting on Khal’s p, this man’s presence captured her attention.

  Taras: Listen carefully! I am Taras Vyshnevetsky. From this moment, you are under my custody and must obey every command I give. Not only can I kill you all, but I can wfully execute you for crimes against these nds. Surrender peacefully, and you will be granted a chance for a fair trial. I know of your crimes, so few of you can expect to escape a death sentence, but I guarantee the right to defend yourself in court — personally or through counsel. And if you are sentenced, the chance to say goodbye to your loved ones and meet with your priest.

  After his speech, he smiled with satisfaction, arms akimbo, turning slowly to face everyone. As he did so, silence fell.

  Khal: Kh-heh-heh. Ah-ha-ha-gee. – burst into genuine, astonished ughter, which shifted through various tones and styles. The other orcs joined in with roaring ughter. It went on for quite some time.

  Oleksandr forced a nervous smile, Darya rolled her eyes, Veronika’s mouth dropped open, and Taras continued to survey the audience. Making eye contact with some prisoners, he subtly waved for them to escape. Thirty orcs were too busy ughing to notice — or didn’t care.

  Khal: Holy shit. What an idiot. – he stood, making Veronika tumble painfully to the marble floor, and appuded. – We were just missing a clown in the collection. Come on, give us more. Say something funny.

  Taras: You seem to be the leader. I’ll repeat: order your orcs to surrender, and I’ll guarantee you a civilized, swift death after trial.

  Khal’s face twisted in displeasure. He heard a whisper to his left — Veronika was praying, clutching her cross. His scowl turned into a smile.

  Khal: Now this might be fun. – he grabbed Veronika and jumped with her into the arena, then tossed her like a sack of potatoes. – Who the fuck are you? Hey, who brought this moron here?

  Orc: I did, chief. He said he wanted to negotiate tribute in exchange for us leaving them alone.

  Khal: And it didn’t occur to you to ask for some kind of document first? Just another knight who thinks he stands a chance against us. Right? Didn’t you say you could kill us all?

  Taras: That’s correct. Every st one of you. – he decred confidently.

  Khal: And who’s this? Your sve?

  Taras: My student.

  Khal: Ahh. – he waved to the three orcs still in the ring to sit down. – Well, you said something about surrendering. My answer is: go fuck yourself. – The orcs burst out ughing.

  Taras: Eh, no one ever listens to me. – he muttered quietly.

  Khal: What did you say?

  Taras: I said no one ever listens. Always, I tell people... or orcs... I expin, teach, and they still do whatever they want. Can you bme me for being frustrated? Think again, orc. You might get another week to live — maybe more.

  Khal: Veronika. Come here.

  Veronika stood up and stepped forward nervously.

  Khal: Tell him in detail what happened to the st guy who defied me. That boy.

  Veronika: He died. Khal crushed his skull with his foot.

  Khal: More detail, more! Come on. – he gently tapped her shoulder.

  Taras: That’s enough. – he inhaled deeply, cpped once, and ughed like a warrior. – Ha-ha-ha! When the battle starts, hide, Veronika! But stay close enough so I can see you.

  Khal: Huh? So you’re challenging me?

  Taras: No, you’re not worth it. To me, you’re like a cockroach — no, like absolute nothingness I don’t even notice.

  The room fell silent again.

  Khal: Well, your choice. Step away! – he told Veronika, who quickly ran from the center. – Alright, big mouth. Attack. – he stood before Taras, eyes cold, bitter, devoid of emotion. Taras had crossed a line — he had to be killed, the point needed to be made.

  Taras looked aside once more, then instead of striking, grinned at Khal. That grin finally pushed Khal over the edge. He roared and swung a fist from above. A shockwave followed, the wind trembled — but his fist struck something and stopped halfway. The entire amphitheater watched in disbelief — this man had caught Khal’s punch in his palm. Every orc, including Khal, showed genuine shock.

  Taras smiled wider, with a strange fire in his eyes.

  Taras: I told you — surrender. – Then he struck Khal’s stomach with an open palm, sending him flying into the far wall beneath the throne. – Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! – he ughed, cpped his hands, then raised one high. – Everyone, take cover and wait! Quickly!

  Khal: Argh! Rr-ragh! – he roared, crawling from the rubble. – Pull the lever! The lever!

  One of the orcs near the arena hit a support, triggering a mechanism likely built by the orcs. The stone floor of the arena split. Four segments slid outward into compartments beneath the stands. Taras instantly turned and hurled Oleksandr back toward the path they came from.

  Veronika: Aah! – she too was still on the arena floor as it began shifting. She lost bance and fell. Below, she saw a wooden palisade several meters down. Her soul fled her body — she shut her eyes and... felt someone catch her. A moment ter, she forced herself to open her eyes — and saw the face of a young man smiling at her like the sun.

  Taras: You okay?

  Veronika: Y-yeah.

  She looked around and saw that she was hanging in mid-air. Screaming, she clung tighter to Taras — then realized he was the one hovering in the air, holding her in his arms.

  Taras: Listen carefully. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t do anything unless I tell you.

  ---

  Daria: How the hell does it work? – Daria was already behind the stage on the first floor of the amphitheater, exactly at the spot where the orc had just released the lever. She found another lever, pulled it, and the four sbs started coming back together at the center of the arena.

  All orcs still looked shoked that this human can fly. As soon as the ptforms came back together, Veronika got to her own feet, and in the next moment Daria suddenly appeared beside her.

  Veronika, thinkinh: What the? How did she?

  But there was not much time left to think about it. The were surrounded by their enemies.

  Taras: Is everyone hidden?

  Daria: Yes, except this one. – she said with displeasure.

  Taras: Perfect. – he said calmly, gncing around at the fifty orcs staring at the three of them, then at Khal, waiting for a command.

  Veronika clutched her hands to her chest, eyes wide in fear, praying to God as intensely as she ever had. One hand held a small cross, the other was outstretched, ready to cast a bst at the enemies, though she knew her st attempt had only slightly burned one of them — and now there were dozens. Taras pced his open palm on her stomach, signaling her to step behind him. She instantly obeyed, positioning herself between him and Daria, who now stood like shields on either side of her. Her hand was trembling, but she realized it was better to charge her hands with mana for healing — if they were in the front, at least she could tend to them from behind.

  Taras: I’ll shield you with a barrier, so you’ll be safe. Got it? – he said loudly and clearly.

  Veronika: A barrier? Okay.

  Taras: Just don’t run off anywhere.

  Khal: Kill them! Kill them all! – and with that, he charged straight at them. The other orcs, weapons in hand, roared even louder and rushed forward.

  Veronika felt a gust of wind behind her and turned to see Daria leaping straight into the mass of orcs. She didn’t run — she unched herself, spun in the air, and swung her arm. A rge golden-red scythe shot from her hand. It was a Cleave — a spell that sends a concentrated mana bde, usually shaped like a scythe, that slices through everything in its path. Several orcs at the front dropped immediately, their bodies and limbs scattered in pieces. This mana scythe didn’t just hit — it cut through them! After striking its target, the scythe lost momentum and disintegrated in the air, though still managing to injure a few behind.

  The next orc, Daria struck directly in the head, jumping onto his neck and punching a massive hole through his skull. Landing from her flip, she gathered mana in her hands and released a massive burst of fme at the surrounding orcs. Those caught in the center screamed in agony. After she nded on the ground, in the next moment, before she could dodge, one orc spun a club into her head.

  Daria: Ow! Grr! – she shouted, more annoyed than hurt, turned, and a lightning erupted from her hand, instantly turning her attacker into a charred corpse.

  Veronika, thinking: That orc’s hit could’ve shattered a wall. So that means she...

  Daria: Don’t you dare touch my hair! – she screamed like a fearless Valkyrie, stopping some of the orcs in their tracks.

  She, however, didn’t stop. Charging forward, she plunged into hand-to-hand combat — dodging, punching, sometimes tearing apart those in her path. One orc swung an axe, which she caught by the handle, yanked it from his hands, and cleaved him in half. Then she let out a warrior’s roar, baring her teeth — still human, but the expression gave her a near-demonic aura. Though every move was savage, her beauty, long hair, and light attire gave her a dangerously seductive presence.

  Taras appeared behind Veronika. Only now did she realize she’d been standing frozen in the middle of the arena this entire time.

  Taras: You know, she’s usually a sweetheart... – he said with a joyful, loving smile, watching Daria rip an orc’s throat out with her nails. – When she’s in a good mood.

  One of the orcs turned and saw Veronika and Taras.

  Veronika: Ah! – she cried as he charged at her with inhuman speed. His sword sliced through the air... and bounced off something invisible sending golden sparkles around the pce of impact. A barrier? Taras flicked his fingers, and the orc’s head flew off — another Cleave, like Daria’s.

  Veronika looked at Taras, who stood rexed, still watching Daria finishing off the st orcs on her side. She turned and saw that the other part of the arena circle right behind her littered with orc corpses — including Khal’s — clearly burned by lightning. That was the Tara's side of the battlefield. No blood, no signs of struggle — did he kill them all in one strike? The ability to cast lightning—that alone is an achievement not every mage can boast of. To cast lightning strong enough to harm an orc—fewer still. But to cast lightning powerful enough to take down thirty at once—who in the world could even do that? Veronika was stunned by the woman’s abilities… but then, what was she supposed to think about him?

  Taras: So? Did you enjoy the show? Ha-ha-ha! – he ughed easily, spreading his arms with a wide smile. – Hey, it’s okay. – he grabbed her shoulders. – You alright? Still with us?

  Veronika: Yeah, I’m okay.

  The battle noise faded. Daria finished off the st enemy and confidently walked over. Her posture was straight, head high, gaze sharp and strong. A stunning waist and legs, magnificent hair. Her luxurious outfit, though revealing, was chosen with intent to funt her exquisite body: her waist, legs, neck, and most of all, her rge breasts, which she funted proudly. Her décolletage consisted of two straps that ran down from her trapezius muscles, covering the center of her breasts and a few centimeters around the nipples — just enough to generously show them off, revealing them both from the center and the sides.

  Breathing heavily and covered in blood, she approached Taras, gently cupped his head, and kissed him passionately on the lips. Every motion and expression was tender, yet she demanded the kiss as a reward. When she let go, she looked into his eyes with a calm, simple gaze.

  Daria: I want to spend the night together. – she said in a confident but neutral tone — not tender, not shy, not questioning. Only a light tilt of her head and her beautiful eyes looking up at him added a shade of emotion to the phrase.

  Taras: Ha-ha. Yes, of course. Gdly. – he answered with a cheerful, slightly affectionate smile.

  Veronika, thinking: Ah… I get it. They’re just insane. Yeah, that expins a lot. – she thought half-jokingly, half-seriously.

  Taras leaned closer and whispered in her ear: You know, covered in enemy blood, you look even more attractive. Part of me wants to take you right here.

  Daria: Don’t talk nonsense. By the way – she turned to Veronika. – You were here since midday? Same as me, right?

  Veronika: Yes, just like I said.

  Daria: Great. That means you still have strength left. I want you to spend the night with us. – she pointed at her. – You’re pretty, and I want to see how he behaves with two women in bed.

  Veronika: What? I... I can’t. – she said awkwardly, shocked by the offer.

  Daria: I’m ordering you, so hush. – she answered as if it were obvious. – What do you say, Taras? Will she do?

  Taras looked Veronika over. She really was beautiful. Dressed in a monk’s outfit, petite and slender but with a graceful figure. Small breasts barely visible under her simple neckline. The faint line between them hinted she had something to show off, though not like Daria. Her hair was styled into two thick, tightly curled locks on each side — like springs or decorative drills — giving her a bit of a doll-like look.

  Taras: Yes, of course she’ll do. – he said calmly. – But only if the dy herself wants to.

  Daria: Oh, she’ll want to. She’s been giving you those lovestruck looks since your silly little speech.

  Veronika: Sorry, but that’s not happening. – she said more confidently, though still blushing. – I’m grateful you saved us, but I won’t take part in your... rituals. And by the way, – she took a deep breath, her heart now pounding for some reason – who the hell are you?

  Taras: I’m Taras, and this is the Empress of Persia, Daria.

  Daria: Taras?

  Taras: Yes. Taras Vyshnevetsky.

  Veronika’s jaw dropped as she stared at her, then at both of them.

  Veronika, thinking: What?! How… what is she doing here… I don’t understand anything.

  Veronika: A-and what’s your profession?

  Taras: I’m a knight of the Order of Jehovah. I was summoned here and saved everyone. – he proudly raised his chin and smiled broadly.

  Veronika: Ha-ha. Thanks, and you... your majesty are really the Empress of Persia.

  Taras: She is, and a very pretty one at that.

  Veronika bowed: Thank you so much for saving us. I am so-so grateful. If there is anything I can do to repay you...

  Taras: Yeah-yeah, let's talk about it ter. We still didn't finish everything.

  Veronika: Oh, yes. Now we probably need to check other pces, find everyone, and clean this pce up...

  Taras: Yes, and first we need to look around… Doubt any orcs are left… How many civilians should be here? How many captives?

  Veronika: Seventeen. Now fifteen. But I’ve only been here half the day, so I might have missed some.

  Taras: Good, and here are some of them. Hey! – he waved at a few who had either been hiding or just started coming out. – How many of you are there?!

  Man: Ten, but there are more of us.

  Taras: Hm... All of you, come here. I’ll be right back. – he said, and in his pce appeared a bluish mist — like a magical fsh.

  Veronika turned and saw him thirty meters away. That’s how the Blink spell looked: a mage concentrates mana and jumps from one pce to another, leaving a faint bluish cloud behind. Before she could locate him again, another cloud appeared in a new spot. It looked like he was going to search the whole monastery for captives or surviving orcs.

  The monastery was retively small, so Taras circled it quickly. Found twenty more captives. The men were maimed, the women raped. He healed all their wounds, but most were still terrified and traumatized.

  Taras: Don’t worry! It’s all over now. We could even drink to that. – He smiled. Some ughed, some didn’t. – Also, orcs and humans can’t have kids together, so no need to worry about that.

  Girl: Really? How do you know?

  Taras: I know. Absolutely. Who’s in charge here now? Djinns are coming, and I need to know who I’m working with.

  Priest: Filipp Nikitovich, but they hanged him on the gates in the first days.

  Taras: Well... who’s next in the hierarchy?

  Priest: No idea. We need to find out who’s still alive first.

  Taras: Alright, everyone gather near the amphitheater. The others are waiting there.

  ---

  Taras: So, dear clergy. Once again – I am Taras Vyshnevetsky, knight of the Holy Order of Jehovah. You could say that I am your fellow member of the trade. Very soon, djinns will come here, and they’ll help you clean everything up and restore order. Everyone is already gathered; we’ve healed all the wounded. I’ll inform the city mayor that the danger has passed. But I need to know that you’ll organize yourselves until a new abbot is appointed.

  Priest: The Prior also perished…

  An uncertain murmuring passed through the group, followed by silence.

  Taras: Well, aside from the Prior, did anyone else hold... organizational roles? I understand your monastery is new, but you did have time to assign positions, right?

  A hesitant figure stepped out from the crowd, raising her hand – Veronika.

  Veronika: I was the stewardess of the monastery. Though I only worked in that role for a month.

  Taras: Alright. Anyone else? I’ll appoint her as the acting abbat unless there are objections or other proposals?

  Silence. Everyone seemed too exhausted to decide or argue.

  Taras: Veronika? Will you serve as acting abbat?

  Veronika (gathering confidence): Yes, I will.

  Taras: Excellent. Then I officially appoint you as the abbat of the Monastery of Saint Mary.

  Veronika: Alright.

  Taras: And what will be your first order? What should we all do? – he said, nudging her forward to handing over the reins of power.

  Veronika: Ahem. If everyone’s wounds are already healed, we need to check the provisions. Maria, Cra, Tikhon – please come to the warehouse, then go to the kitchen and prepare some food, if any. I think some people here are starving. I’ll walk through the entire monastery and take inventory – we need to know what was destroyed.

  Taras: I’ll go with you. And a general announcement – do not touch orc corpses or their belongings, under any circumstances. Same with magical artifacts. Report anything like that to me or to the djinns when they arrive.

  Veronika: Yes, alright. Everyone else can wait in the dining hall, or – if you still have the strength – start cleaning the surroundings.

  Once everyone went about their tasks (and Darya teleported away somewhere), an exciting return to a normal life began. Everyone worked twice as fast, even the zy ones. Taras and Veronika were walking through the dormitory, after which they were to head to the dining hall.

  Taras: By the way, I met your father. He was worried about you.

  Veronika: Is he alright?

  Taras: Yes. He even promised me all his savings if I saved you.

  Veronika: Oh… if he made a promise, then I’ll repay it... – she said in a suddenly lively and sincere tone.

  Taras: No, I just mentioned it. Don’t worry about it.

  Veronika: Oh, alright. Thank you.

  Taras: For what? Saving people from trouble like this is a knight’s duty. I didn’t do anything special. – he said, looking at her attentively and calmly.

  Veronika: Still – it was a heroic act. Not everyone could do it… Ah! What about that boy who was with you?

  Taras: He died. I saw him on the way from the amphitheater. Looks like when he tried to run, one of the orcs caught him.

  Veronika: I’m sorry. Who was he?

  Taras: A squire.

  Veronika: Oh… did you know him well?

  Taras: Nope. Met him only today. – he said cheerfully. – I told him to stay near me, but he ran. I told him to retreat earlier, but he didn’t listen. And he paid for it.

  Veronika: You say that so easily. Why are you always smiling, even now?

  Taras: Because there’s no point in grieving. Remember this well: fear, anger, or sadness only make things worse. Even if you’re being carved alive or rotting from disease in some corner – never give in to despair.

  Veronika didn't exactly understand his sudden advice, but respectfully noded.

  Veronika: I can’t do that. Or rather, I couldn’t.

  Taras: What do you mean?

  Veronika: When Khal attacked one of our boys, I stepped in. I healed the boy, but they were going to take me away. So, I put my hand to my neck to... – her voice broke, as if on the verge of crying. Taras looked at her with a sly smile, though she didn’t see it. – I wanted to threaten him. That if he didn’t leave the monastery, I’d kill myself. But I couldn’t. He just came up to me – tears began rolling down her cheeks – and struck me, grabbed me like a sack, carried me to his pce, and groped me all over.

  Taras briskly pced a hand on her shoulder.

  Taras: Don’t cry, it’s alright. What kind of abbot has teary eyes? Ha-ha-ha. He didn’t have time to rape you, did he?

  Veronika: What? No. - she said gazzled by his question.

  Taras: Well then, you got off easy. Look at me – you faced a deadly situation and survived. That kind of experience is worth its weight in gold for a warrior. Next time, you’ll be... stronger. At least you should be, because there’s always a next time – and it’ll be worse than the st.

  Veronika looked into his strong, mentor-like gaze and wondered what y behind it. Who was he, really? She was sure he wasn’t an ordinary knight. What had he actually gone through? What past made him this strong?

  Taras: One more thing. Know the difference between bravery and stupidity. That idiotic act you pulled in front of Khal wouldn’t have led to anything good. You’re lucky it ended the way it did. Otherwise, you could’ve ended up like Oleksandr. Let’s go, we’ve checked everything here. – He cpped his hands and grinned widely. – I’m starving. Let’s eat. A lot.

  ---

  Evening was falling. Veronika walked with relief to the building behind the amphitheater, which served as administrative offices and the abbot’s quarters. She would’ve preferred to sleep in her usual pce, but her room was damaged, while the abbot’s quarters had surprisingly survived. The doors to the three-story building had been broken in, and the first floor looted, but the second and third were mostly intact. A quiet joy filled her. The strange surge of strength she’d felt after being rescued hadn’t faded yet.

  As she approached the abbot’s bedroom door and reached for the handle, a familiar voice came from behind. It was Darya, polished, cleaned, wearing some luxurious robe that covered most of her body — except her elegant colrbones, chest, and neck.

  Darya: Is that you, Maria?

  Veronika: Yes, I mean – Veronika.

  Darya: Doesn’t matter. You came after all. Interesting... hmm, and clever. – she gave a contemptuous yet slightly intrigued smile.

  Veronika: Came where?

  Darya: To make love, of course. Come, Taras is already lying in the bedroom.

  Veronika: W-what?! Oh no… I didn’t think you’d be here. And I don’t want to... I’ll go somewhere else.

  Darya: Are you sure? – she approached and gently touched Veronika’s chest as if to hold her in pce. – Not every girl gets a chance like this. He likes you – if I were you, I’d already be undressing.

  Veronika: No, I’ll go.

  Darya: Do you know who he is? – she circled behind her and ran her hand along Veronika’s neck. – Have you asked him anything?

  Veronika: No. – she answered firmly. – I figured he’s not just a knight, but who he really is – that’s not my business.

  Darya: Why? Tell me, Christian nun. Why don’t you want to know what you’re curious about? – she stepped back a little and studied Veronika closely, wanting to see as much of her as possible during the answer.

  Veronika: Because it’s not right. If he’s keeping his identity secret, I must assume it’s for everyone’s benefit. And I want to repay him with good for the good he’s done.

  Darya: Good girl. Our God would surely praise you for such honesty – if He existed. Well, if you want, you can sit here and listen. – she opened the door. – Finding a man like him next time will be extremely hard. – The door closed, and Darya disappeared into the room across the hall.

  Veronika, in thought: Damn bsphemer. I read the news too, and I remember well the rumors about what she did during the war. But let it be.