Cremar left only a layer of dried ink in the obsidian bottle for the servants to wash, rolled up the scroll, tied the rope and put it in the dimensional bag, and as he took off his white robe and was about to go back to bed to sleep comfortably, a half-withered bunch of incense aconite fell out of it.

The memories it brings are not very good, but the memory is never in control - the boy without hands and feet flashes by, the white light, the shaking subway car, the dirty little hands, the golden coins, the road, the elevator, the corridor, the red security door, the jingle of the key, the home, the loved ones.

A scorching, sharp sting stinged in his stomach.

You'll never see them again.

A stream of flames climbed up its spine and swept through its body, and another tingling pain, first in its knees, then in its kidneys.

No parents, no friends, isolated, and countless enemies.

Death at any time, miserable death.

The limbs were torn, the mouths were poured with molten lead, and they were nailed to the walls.

Fail.

Futile.

Pain.

Exhaustion.

Alone.

There is no hope.

Can't go back.

Is it a nightmare? No, the soul of the other world has had nightmares, and it knows how to break free from the nightmare—as long as you know that you are not in reality.

It was a thought, a sharp and cold thought, like a whip or a blade, too real, perhaps it was real, belonging to the soul of the other world, the deepest fears and the most secret expectations, so vivid, reaching out its claws to dig its heart, the soul of the other world grasping the curled chest, empty and cold inside.

It learns spells, slays monsters, jokes with lichs, tastes food, sings with sailors, and seems to have forgotten that it was once a normal human - no, it hasn't, and though its memories are broken, it remembers, it, its parents, its home, its world.

It wants to go back.

It has to go back.

No, you can't.

I can!—the otherworldly soul shouted, trembling and resisting with all its might the almost irresistible despair.

It's so tiring.

No.

Give it up.

No.

You need to rest, rest well, rest forever.

No!

A loud bang woke everyone in the rime hut.

"Oh," said Mage Alva, who had arrived first, with a hurried glance, "I knew I should have made that bet with Coubert." ”

"What?" asked Kerryben, dressed in a comfortable, light, foot-length robe, no belt, shallow loafers, and he tossed the scimitar in his left hand lightly, merging it with his right-hand companion, the silver-blue blade flowing in the moonlight.

"Corbett told me that on the Sparrow our little friend cast a spell that allowed him to lift a killer whale," the mage stepped into the room, the snake man golem following close behind, "I listened to his story and thought it was unlikely, the power should come from you, Mage Cremar." ”

His last words were addressed to the pale, dark-haired young mage standing in the corner of the room, not a question.

"You don't look very good," the older mage said mildly.

"I'm sorry," Cremar said in a faint voice, "I copied a scroll. ”

The micaite giant's head had involuntarily been replaced, upside down and shattered, and before the magic set up within it was gone, the water it spat out destroyed the floor of the room, and the silver ship and the adorable birds were torn apart, and the incense they had stored melted in the water.

"Young people. He shook his head, but there was not much criticism in his tone.

"Please remind me when you are going to copy the scroll in the future," Kerriben said in a brisk tone, "I will be far away." ”

"Definitely. Cremar assured.

"I'll give you another room," said Master Alva, "Child, go meditate, go to sleep, and then tomorrow you will work with me to restore this room to its original state." ”

Cremar bowed to him wearily and gratefully.

- What is that?, the Otherworldly Soul asked.

The new room was as comfortable and quiet as the old one, but his original sleepiness had long since been tormented by pain and fear. He thought it was an attack on him or the Lich, but the Lich told him it wasn't.

- The backlash of the bloodline - it will dig into your fears, mock your weaknesses, and force you into a quagmire of pessimism and negativity until you can't extricate yourself - that is, die, said the lich.

――You, again, the soul of the other world asked angrily, forgot to talk to me, did you?

- It disappeared after I became an undead, and the lich calmly said that it didn't have much of an effect on me while it was there, it was slightly uncomfortable and could be ignored, and it only appeared at a fixed time - once every thirty days, which is the time it takes for the magical galaxy to rotate once a week, one block at a time, and you can easily avoid its effects with a little estimate.

- Huh?

――？

――No, you do it once a month, right?

- We, the former undead, asked, why are you smiling so strangely?

- I'm laughing normally, the soul of the other world says that it will eat its own bloodline, probably not from the elves, your mother, then, father? Your father is not human?

The lich remained silent until the questioner realized how stupid he was—he lazily stretched and slipped into the silk-wrapped camel hair blanket that Mage Alva had provided for his guests, it was cool and slippery, and the smell was fragrant, and the otherworldly spirit couldn't help but take a deep breath as it slipped into it. The lich told him that their bodies were supported by positive energy and that they wouldn't get tired, and he thought that the guy who had been away from the living for too long was releasing nitrogen and carbon dioxide, and probably methane or something.

He wanted to get a good night's sleep, floating in the sea of knowledge and lying on the bed and being wrapped in a soft blanket were completely different things, but the former immortal obviously didn't think so.

- You amazed me, and the lich did not shy away from saying that you were able to get rid of it, in such a short time, on your own.

- Didn't you say it was just a slight discomfort?

-- That's for me.

The otherworldly soul shrugged its shoulders in consciousness indifferently - perhaps it shouldn't have said I wouldn't be able to go home.

――Do you want to go home?

- Why not?

-- It was a dull world, said the lich, and you were not worth mentioning, ordinary looks, barren minds, small dwellings, meager incomes, only a healthy body, a maximum of a hundred and twenty years, but in this world, you could have much more, as I had seen in your memory, wealth, women, men, honors, great power and high status, and immeasurable youth and life...... If you can go to the last step, you can even be unscrupulous and do whatever you want.

- But that's not mine, the soul of the other world muttered sleepily but firmly, maybe it would be nice to be you, it smiled, but what about the mediocre me, it was not at fault, it should not have been killed by itself.

When the otherworldly soul woke up again, he found himself sitting in a chair with a small silver ball in his hand.

The caster opened his palm, and the ball was hollow, and the thin shell made of Mithril was engraved with magical symbols and words inside and out, and it could be opened, and inside was a smooth, colorless tourmaline with rubies inlaid with the shell - he blinked, and the ball was wrapped in a note that simply wrote in the lingua franca: "Once." ”

Of course, the soul of the other world grinned toothily: "I owe you once." It said to the guy in the body.

There are also some dense small letters on the back of the note, roughly stating the method and type of use of this kind of water purification ball - this is really a mouth-watering little thing - how much water can be purified by the water purification ball depends on the mass and volume of its contents, the most common is alum, colorless quartz can purify five times more water than the same volume of alum, colorless crystal is ten times that of quartz, colorless tourmaline is ten times that of crystal, solid stone is the best, but no one is so wasteful.

The small ball of water purification in his hand purifies about a whale oil bucket at a time, or eight beer barrels, two hundred and eighty-eight gallons of water, and the rubies set in the shell can purify the water and make them boil at the same time. It had almost wiped out half of their savings, well, half of the lich's savings, the otherworldly soul thought in shame.

This is also a small reminder, in case there is any "human accident", the water purification ball is not easy to damage, after all, it is made of Mithril, the problem is that anyone can use it, it is a magic product, it does not need magic when it works, and it is easy to get rid of, in addition to the voyager, it is also hot among the nobles and mages who like to enjoy it, even if it is stolen, it can be exchanged for enough money for a family to live a rich life for ten years.

At the end of the note, it was noted that he had agreed with Carey about when he would leave.

The soul of the other world hurriedly grabbed the magic pendant, the gem on the pendant was in the seventh square, and it was only about an hour before departure.

Cremar jumped to his feet and checked his bag, not so surprised to find that it had been put in order—even the potion belt and scroll strap were properly hung and clinging to his crotch, and the cloak was pulled up to find out. The dimensional pouch, disguised as a lizard skin pouch, was hanging securely from his belt, the leather bag containing bits and bits hung from the right arm of the chair, and the travel cane leaning on the left.

As he was extraneously examining the rapier in his staff, Alva's apprentice, Leo, knocked on the door and respectfully invited him to Arca Mage's favorite snow hall for breakfast.

Breakfast was simple but delicious, mead, vegetables, fruit soup, fried smoked venison sausage and boiled seagull eggs.

Elves were not as hungry for food as humans, and Kerryburn's plate consisted only of a handful of tender kale and a few pieces of honey-stained chestnuts, and to Cremar's bewilderment, there was a small piece of fried venison sausage next to it—a tan rind, peach flesh and golden oil, dotted with black pepper, and he ate a slice, indeed venison, mixed with white cartilage.

Alva noticed the small question mark floating above the young mage's head, he didn't know how Beavis taught this disciple, it was clear that the knowledge given by Beavis was not comprehensive - there was nothing bloody in the recipe of the Eya elves, but the Singh elves were not, the silvercrown forest was cold, and the fruit of the silvercrown tree was not very tasty, and the roast rabbit meat made by the elves was the best in the world. He was in time to suppress the urge to continue the conversation - he was not Cremar's mentor, even though Beavis was dead, and that, although the Singer elves were a more cheerful and open-minded group, they would not be happy to be used as activity materials for breakfast, especially when it came to the physiology of the race.

They'll be together for a long time, and it's a pleasure to let Cremar discover it for herself, mage Alva thought, and put a piece of boiled apple in his mouth with ease.