A merchant bowed to Demon, deeply, not to a mage, but to an archon, the head of the White Taboo Silk Guild, three times his age, but still humble as Demon's most loyal servant.

Demont only nodded his head to indicate that he had accepted the respect, and that since he had become consul, he had gained more respect and submission than his father and his elder brother, and those who had neglected him and ignored him had willingly prostrate themselves at his feet, listening to his commands, and acting obediently as such.

He sat down behind the consul's table, which was made of rare tulip wood, with extravagant gold inlays on the horns, and a vermilion front panel carved with peacocks and lions, the former being the symbol of Rosada, the god of the morning light, and the latter representing their lords, and Demon, while considering when he could replace the peacock that disgusted him, sat down on the high-backed chair behind the table, which was of the same material and more beautiful, but unfortunately not very comfortable to sit on- Although there are velvet cushions filled with feathers, the backs are so high and intricately carved that they can poke your back when you don't sit upright.

The chair had to be replaced, Demont thought, and in fact, he wanted to change the whole room, and it could easily remind others of the previous consul, his father, though he was incompetent, both as an official and as a father. Demont would rearrange the room to his liking, and he had the idea of hanging the walls of the room with Mithril rune boards, hiding them under the mahogany floor, covering them with silk carpets, displaying wands and scrolls in triangular cabinets and multi-level cabinets, and placing golems by windows and doors...... Then he shook his head, no, it wasn't an archon's room, it was a mage's room, he might be able to get a little magic paraphernalia, but he couldn't make it too distinctive.

But he could build a tower for himself, and before he thought he could get the position, his best idea would have been to force Mage Antonio to return to his father's manor and take his own tower, but now, he could have his own tower - he had never known that the White Tower was so rich until Durmon had the right to look through the scrolls and papers—the transit tax, the bazaar tax, the transaction tax, the personal liberty tax (when a serf was emancipated), the inheritance tax...... Wartime and epidemic taxes paid in the event of war and plague...... and charters and warrants of extortion, for the chief of the Silk Guild had just come to obtain a warrant of monopoly on scarlet wool, for which he had given him a thousand gold coins worth of precious stones and mythril.

In addition to the White Tower, Demont's father owned two estates and the surrounding woodlands and farmland, and the steward of the manor paid annually various taxes including marriage tax, forest tax, reclamation tax, and poll tax, as well as rent for mills, bakeries, cattle, and farm implements, as well as all the harvest on the cultivated land belonging to the master (which was cultivated for him by serfs and tenant farmers). The former consuls never spoke to Demon, and he only talked to his eldest son about it, but Adel had been explicitly told that he would own half of the estate's annual income when he became senior priest, and that Demont could only be one of the estate's stewards.

But now they all belong to him.

"You could have gotten more. A voice said.

Demon jumped up from his chair, glancing fiercely at the source of the sound and making an offensive spell gesture.

The double-headed serpent let out its characteristic sizzling laugh: "Your mentor, my master has let me come to see you—oh, poor little Demont, who has received only a little of it, and is already satisfied. ”

Demont was not surprised by the Mentor's visit, he had been prepared for it, and even if it was the Mentor standing in front of him now, he would not have panicked a little more: "Greetings to my venerable Mentor," he crossed his hands on his shoulders and bowed respectfully: "Just want to take a break for a while," he said, "I'm sorry for not going as planned—but as we've seen, things aren't going as planned......"

"Phew," the Viper said contemptuously, "your father and brother have been sent to the Mourning Wasteland by you," it said, squirming and hanging from the lampstand it hung on, so that the two spade-shaped heads were facing the black-robed mage, "and your brother, is not far from death, there are only two bloodlines left in the White Tower and the Lord of the Partridge Hills, Anrui, and you, you should kill her and inherit everything she has left behind," the right head shouted, and flapped its wings furiously, Don't tell me you want to mate with that female, her body is bleeding with stinky blood, elf blood, you can find other females, as long as you kill her and become the master of this land, you can find that female ** if you like, you can even summon a succubus!"

Then the elf would immediately sever ties with the White Tower, which would affect his taxes and other income, after all, most of the merchants here came for the sugar, lead, and Adamantite Mithril of the jungle - Demon said in his heart, but his mentor's pet was right, he was indeed attracted to Anrui - The last time he saw Anrui was a few years ago, when she was just a wild girl like a child, and he had scoffed at his brother's infatuation, until he saw her with his own eyes, and she was completely changed, like a caterpillar chrysalis turned into a butterfly, she was beautiful and graceful, innocent and pure, just what he wanted of his wife—although the other half of her blood still made Dermon uncomfortable, but this shortcoming was tolerable.

When he gets all he wants, he will mercifully grant her a peaceful death.

"I've thought about it," De Mont argued, "she's just a little girl, not a threat, but if she's dead...... Of course, I would be the sole owner of the land, but the problem was that the Grand Duke of Luzel, our lord of the princes, had always coveted the White Tower and the Partridge Hill, and longed to take it for himself, and then I would be in danger - if I died, the Grand Duke would be able to reclaim the land given by his ancestors on the grounds that the direct line of St. Rig had been wiped out. ”

The Viper Demon looked at him suspiciously.

"Just a few years later," said Demon, "I promise it won't be long, but I do need time to clear the White Tower of the forces that belong to my father and brother......"

"How many years?"

"Five years," Dermon observed the pet's expression, but no one could tell anything from a flat face covered with fine scales, "Perhaps?"

The pet paused for a moment, as if listening to something: "One year," it said with its left head, "within a year the guild must have a fixed and reliable stronghold in the White Tower - and then, at most two years, you will be the true master of the White Tower and the Partridge Hill, don't worry about any Grand Duke Luzel," its right head mysteriously cracked its mouth, revealing its fangs: "No thief or assassin is stronger than the guild." ”

Dermon pursed his lips tightly, his eyes and tongue burned with the menacing rage, but he restrained himself from letting the deadly spell spill over his lips, he knew that it wasn't a simple pet talking to him, that behind it stood his mentor, and behind his mentor stood the guild, his fingers unconsciously touching the ring that he had never left at all times, spinning, and the wide gem-encrusted ring also contained a Mithril ring.

When he was an unappreciated second son, he was happy to receive instructions, which showed that he was useful to the guild and could be rewarded, but he was now the master of the White Tower, and he would be the master of the Partridge Hill in the future, and he did not want to be controlled by the guild at all, and continued to contribute his talents and wealth to them. But it was not up to him to decide, and even without the sinister assassins, he could not disobey the will of the Guild, and Demon had made a vicious and meticulous pact with his mentor that stipulated the number of years he had to serve his mentor, and if his actions did not satisfy his mentor, his mentor could pass it on to another spellcaster or the devil.

The young mage had thought of exchanging the White Tower's Mithril and other precious spellcasting materials for this contract, but since it was the Mentor's pet who came to warn him, it meant that he had lost this opportunity.

"Answer!" the two-headed viper shouted together with both of its heads, "boy!"

Demont bowed his head feebly.

"You know," said the lich, "my mentor has been tracking down a grey robe named Platon for more than ten years. ”

"Poor Beavis," lamented Master Antonio, pinching his beard, "I have seen his wife, a beautiful and kind lady, to whom fate is cruel and unfair. ”

"Over the past ten years, my mentor has gained a lot of experience in fighting against such evil beings, especially for the gray robes. The lich continued, "Although I have only been with him for half a round (six years), I have learned a lot from him. ”

"Like you did in Beavis's abode," said Master Antonio heartily, "I think I have to thank you on behalf of every mage who has used this recipe, Cremar, for being a good boy who is forgiving and generous. ”

The lich bowed to show that he had humbly accepted the compliment, and then he straightened up and finished the most important part: "And that evil gray robe, Master Platon once cast a spell, this spell is not complicated, but it almost killed my mentor - it made my mentor mistakenly think that his wife's soul is still alive and in Platon's hands. ”

Kerryben's eyes lit up slightly, and the lich knew he had guessed.

"Yes, Platon summoned the soul of my mentor's wife - it seems, but in fact it was transformed by a cunning devil who pounced on me and tried to bite his throat when my mentor gave up his resistance. ”

"He didn't make it. Elven Ranger affirmed.

"My mentor woke up at the last moment that his wife would never do that. But that's not what I want you to care about, he shouted impatiently, but Mage Antonio understood a little.

Immediately afterward, Kerry understood, and he knew why Cremar would say that if this method failed, Mage Antonio would end up in disrepute.

"A hoax," said Master Antonio, "is it?"