Chapter 27

Mich spent the whole day walking around as if under a spell. After those damned baths, he couldn’t think about anything except the red-haired girl named Kamorra. Literally every thought in his head was filled with her, only her, only her hair, only…

The fire mage swallowed. He could swear he had never seen anything like her in his entire life. She was an angel!!

Or perhaps a demon?..

For the third time that day, the sorcerer was making his rounds through the southern wing of the Academy, where visiting mages, tournament participants, and other outworlders who came to Triverd from afar were usually housed.

For the fourth time, he inspected every inch of the enormous galleries, windows, staircases, and passageways…

But still couldn’t catch even one more glimpse of what he wanted to see.

“This is madness… Maybe I’ve lost my mind?” the mage thought as he made a sharp turn into one of the corridors and suddenly crashed into something hard, metallic, almost indestructible. And fell to the floor. “Hey, watch where you’re going, idi-o…t…” Mich raised his head and froze like a stone statue.

Two girls stood before him. Tall, like two white candles before an altar.

The one standing in front, the one he had accidentally run into, wore gray knight’s armor decorated with gold, ending in a long black skirt.

Her eyes were golden, like freshly minted coins. And the contempt in them pierced straight through Mich like a thousand needles.

“I…” was all the mage managed to squeeze out before he noticed the second girl.

Supple as a switch. Dressed with the strictness of a palace court. A white shirt, tight-fitting trousers, black gloves, a thin tail with an arrow-shaped tip, and… two large black horns lying close against her head.

Her eyes were the color of red honey, and her face looked surprised, even concerned.

But behind that concern lurked no kindness at all… but a jester! Ready to mock you at any opportunity.

“Oh! My goodness!” the horned one suddenly exclaimed, walking over to Mich and setting him back on his feet like a child. “How could you be so careless, Tiara! You could kill someone like that! Are you all right?”

“A-a-a nimka… a real one…” Mich mumbled in reply, staring at the silver hair cascading down the girl’s shoulders.

Nimki are a kind of higher demons of Existence.

“I didn’t notice him, Magda,” Tiara replied, giving the fire mage the most annihilating look in the entire Universe. Her hair was silver too—loose and voluminous at first, then braided into a long plait.

“No, no! It was my fault! I wasn’t watching where I was going!” Mich babbled, having no idea what to do, when to do it, or why anything needed doing in the first place.

“Really?” Magda asked. “Well then, we’re even.” She gave the mage a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where… guest rooms 301 and 302 are?”

“I-I do,” Mich replied.

“Could you show us?” the nimka asked.

“I can,” the mage replied, and that was exactly what he did.

Nothing more.

He simply led them to their guest rooms.

There were hundreds of rooms like these here!

When the girls were already about to go inside, the mage finally managed to squeeze out one last question:

“I-I haven’t seen you here before! Did you… also come for the tournament that’s taking place in… three days?” he asked like a criminal awaiting judgment.

The girl named Tiara merely gave a snort in reply and stepped into her room. Magda, however, nodded approvingly.

“Exactly! We love magical tournaments. Especially when such strong opponents are gathering to face us,” she said, giving him a wink.

Mich was ready to die.

“Ciao,” she said, and slammed the door shut.

The fire mage remained rooted to the spot. And probably would have stood there all night if Master Svono hadn’t suddenly barged into his head through telepathy. He ordered Mich to get over to him.

And the sorcerer hastily retreated.

That was exactly how it happened.