Chapter 86: Connections are Always the Problem

  Surprised, Justinian nearly jumped when he realized they were no longer alone. He spun around instantly, ready to attack, his Iron Hand of Law poised to strike. However, what met him was a sudden burst of laughter.

  "My, my, aren't we nervous?"

  A sarcastic, feminine voice assessed him a moment later. It belonged to a woman escorted by a group of devils whose energy signatures he couldn't even read. There was no overt hostility in them, however. More like... curiosity?

  Still under the pressure of time and seeing Seweryn’s worsening condition out of the corner of his eye, Justinian gritted his teeth and decided to take a risk.

  "My friend has fallen victim to a strange curse. He was likely attacked. Are you able to help me? As a nobleman, I shall be bound to provide appropriate payment."

  He spoke these words trying to emulate the most solemn noble speeches of the 66th Dimension he could recall. At the same time, considering the animosity shown toward his hellish house at the party just moments ago, he omitted the source of his high standing.

  The deviless who had previously commented on his posture needed a moment to process those words. However, she was drawn to an aspect that was, at that moment, very secondary to Justinian.

  "Really? They made a human a nobleman?"

  The gentleman escorting her, who radiated an aura of venerable age, answered her.

  "The letter I received from the local Voivode mentioned something of the sort."

  Justinian sensed a delicate amusement in their voices, as if they were finding purely intellectual entertainment in this unexpected encounter. Arouet de Deviliare had made a similar impression on him, though here the tone was devoid of his aggressiveness.

  'There is no time for this nonsense!'

  Knowing that with every passing second Seweryn’s condition was drawing inevitably closer to death, Justinian renewed his plea, this time even bolstering it with the power of his cultivation. He knew that devils were terribly touchy and he was balancing on a thin line, so he tried to keep his tone in a state of absolute non-aggression.

  "I understand your amusement, but my friend is in a terrible state. I kindly ask for your generous assistance... My word as a nobleman binds me."

  This time, the answer was silence. The tension in the air seemed to rise, and Justinian began to have trouble breathing, feeling a strange energy swelling around him. The sweat dripping down his temple felt colder than the darkest abysses when the elderly gentleman spoke again.

  "Your highness?"

  At that moment, the deviless in the swan mask looked at him, pondered for a moment, and finally... waved her hand.

  "Do as you see fit. Perhaps at least something interesting will come of this."

  The devil bowed toward her, a smile appearing on his lips. Then, with a slow pace, he approached the trembling Seweryn and began to whisper something, like a curse requiring great focus.

  Justinian, despite knowing his limitations, tried to keep an eye on this strange old man whose cultivation he could not see through. The devil himself didn't seem particularly bothered by this—perhaps due to the fact that several dozen meters away, other devils stood at the ready, an evident escort in case of trouble.

  "What was that megalomaniac on about earlier?" The deviless turned to Franciscus, mildly curious. "Anyone even slightly above the level of an insect can see you don't have a single drop of shared blood in you. What is the point of all this?"

  Justinian, as if jolted from a trance, looked at Franciscus, who was momentarily speechless. His gaze, however, made it clear that this was the truth!

  "That..."

  "Well, now just to cut out the ko?tun and it's done."

  The old devil seemed to be finishing his curse-breaking, and Seweryn already looked slightly more stable. What happened next, however, made the blood in the noblemen’s veins freeze. The devil pressed the unconscious man’s skin in one spot, causing a large bulge to appear nearby... as if it had a life of its own!

  Suddenly... a hidden blade flashed, and the bulge was sliced away!

  Despite the spray of dark blood and the agitation of his companions, Seweryn’s breathing rhythm began to calm.

  The old devil smiled contentedly.

  "He will live; he just needs to rest for a few weeks. Arouet’s poison is too devastating for someone at this level."

  Justinian immediately bowed to him with great emotion. His gratitude was sincere, and he didn't want to think about what would have happened if fate hadn't crossed his path with this old man. Seeing this, the masked devil gave a modest smile, as if it were no big deal.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The deviless in the swan mask, meanwhile, seemed clearly bored.

  "Since the matter is settled, let’s go. This evening is yet another disappointment."

  "If you should ever be in need, know that you can always count on me—"

  The deviless’s light laughter caused Justinian to stop immediately. Even though the air seemed as calm as it had been a moment ago, he felt a horrific pressure on himself, nearly forcing him to his knees! It was so strong it seemed to stop the blood flowing in his veins, crushing it at the level of its smallest particles.

  Then the woman, smiling, cast aside the swan mask she held to her face, throwing back her previously pinned hair. In the moonlight, its white color and deep-set, extraordinarily violet-emanating eyes were a reflection of raw beauty. This beauty seemed a perfect complement to the lethal power that threatened to instantly annihilate everything in the vicinity.

  "Why say something you are incapable of fulfilling?"

  Then, along with their entire escort, they simply walked away, conversing lightly as if nothing had happened.

  Justinian, drenched in sweat, was only able to breathe once they disappeared behind the walls of the estate's fence. Even though he had never seen this woman before, he had no doubt about one thing.

  'She is one of the Observers...'

  While the party at the de Deviliare estate was slowly ending, another ceremony was taking place on the grounds of one of the villas adjacent to the lake. Among the trees of a small oak grove, illuminated by the glow of torches arranged in a circle, a dozen or so figures moved. Each carried a cap full of earth, which was dumped onto an increasingly high pile forming a burial mound.

  It was here that the devil Didko was buried, who had died as a result of the earlier confrontation with Septima. One of the last to add earth to the mound from his cap was none other than Alfons, dressed in a black funeral kontusz. His appearance drew scornful looks from the devils wearing oseledets braids, but he was too nervous to notice.

  Instead, with an uneasy gaze, he sought out Ihor in the crowd, who was listening to a sharp speech from one of his soldiers. When their eyes met, he beckoned to Alfons with his hand, but it lacked his former friendliness.

  'This all must be fixable somehow...'

  Rudnicki’s son, squeezing through to the Ataman, immediately offered his condolences and expressed regret for what had happened. He didn't even manage to finish.

  "You lie through your teeth!"

  "Ihor, that girl definitely killed Didko on purpose!"

  "The 66th Dimension is preparing for an attack!"

  Two subordinates from Ihor’s circle shouted, cutting Alfons off, which stressed the boy even more. Sweat poured from his hair so heavily that he had to constantly wipe his red face with a velvet handkerchief embroidered with a maxim about honor.

  "I am telling the truth!"

  His stuttering response only incensed the surrounding crowd. It seemed as though it would come to blows, when Ihor, who was watching Alfons closely, calmed his subordinates with a wave of his hand. Seeing how stressed young Rudnicki was, he sighed heavily and patted him conciliatorily on the shoulder.

  "I know the honor of the great Rudnicki family; I believe you..."

  The devil from the 66th Dimension straightened up involuntarily upon hearing this, emotion beginning to show in his eyes at the Ataman’s unexpectedly peaceful words. Previously, he had expected that after the events in the arena, the dimensions would drift apart again. However, it was short-lived, as Ihor had not yet finished his statement.

  "...however, I cannot ignore the words of my people. The war council tells me that it is the 66th Dimension preparing to attack us, and killing Didko was the first step..."

  An immediate uproar arose, clearly confirming his words. Alfons’s back slumped under its weight. The boy began to flounder.

  "That’s impossible... We don't even have such forces..."

  "The brothers tell me that this planned attack is the reason your Voivode isn't here. That it's exactly why he sent your father here—to make a shield out of his honor."

  Young Rudnicki wanted to deny it, but the words caught in his throat. The pressure from the hostile group was unbearable for him, which Ihor noticed, gesturing for his brothers to step back.

  "Alfons, if something really is happening..."

  "No, word of honor!"

  "And yet, the facts..."

  The devil from the 66th Dimension gritted his teeth, as if hesitating over an important decision for a moment. His mind, clouded by emotional upheaval, did not perceive the matter as it should.

  "The honorable Boruta is simply very ill! That is why he isn't here. I swear on my honor, we are not planning any attacks!"

  Ihor froze. For a moment, in the silence of the grove, only the crackling of the torches could be heard. Before Alfons could think about the consequences of his words, the Ataman took a precious sable fur from his shoulders and draped it over the boy’s back.

  "I was too harsh with you, not knowing you carried such a burden. Let this fur be a gesture of our friendship. I will calm my brothers."

  Young Rudnicki felt a sudden surge of relief. He believed he had just saved the situation—that Ihor was a great devil who truly understood the concept of honor. He bowed low, mumbling thanks, and headed toward the estate, feeling almost like a hero.

  He didn't notice, through all of this, how the Ataman’s eyes began to glow with a bloodthirsty red.

  In the estate rented by the delegation of the 66th Dimension, great commotion broke out that same night. It was all in response to the state of the unconscious Seweryn, brought in on Justinian’s back. Bogna immediately set to caring for the patient, and the Sarmatians shouted for immediate revenge for the sin of raising a hand against one of the Lord Brothers.

  Consultations followed immediately on how to strike and what to do with the scoundrel who had done all this. It took Franciscus and Justinian a good hour to convince the angry devils that the matter had to wait at least until morning. The key turned out to be the argument regarding what both had seen at the party.

  "Among the guests was a whole mass of people whose auras I could not even gauge. An Observer was also there."

  The noblemen, despite their explosive temperaments, were not complete idiots. They also listened to Rudnicki’s recommendations, who was inclined to first gather more information about the opponent. Thus, the problem was temporarily postponed.

  When Justinian, having left the company, slumped tiredly into a chair in his room, he noticed he was not alone. Leaning against the opposite wall, Septima materialized, looking at him in an unmistakable way. Her expression said exactly what she stated next.

  "I told you it would be like this."

  Only silence answered her. Justinian simply had no desire for this conversation right now.

  "You should be aware of the weakness of this representation, toning down moods instead of looking for new enemies..."

  Even though these words irritated his entire being, they coincided with what he felt regarding Seweryn’s situation. Above all, with the heavy realization that he had failed. That he should have been stronger.

  "If this continues, few will return to the 66th Dimension at all."

  Justinian clenched his fists and slowly looked her in the eye.

  "Anything else?"

  For a moment they looked at each other in silence, after which the deviless calmly replied.

  "Yes. A date has been set for the consultation with the Observer."