Despite how exhausted he was, sleep wouldn’t come.

  You didn’t wake up in another world, in someone else’s body, every day. There was too much to process – too many thoughts chasing each other in circles. And yet Kel desperately wanted to sleep. Somewhere deep inside, a weak hope lingered: maybe he would wake up back home, and all of this would fade into a bad dream.

  No. Lying there was pointless.

  Judging by how far the moon had shifted outside the window, he’d been tossing and turning for hours. Kel quietly got up and headed for the door. He paused, listening to Kiana’s soft, steady breathing, then slipped out of the room without a sound.

  The sight of the moon sparked an idea.

  He could ask the Moon Maiden for help. Maybe she could explain what this System was – this thing that kept pushing messages straight into his mind. After all, the Moon Maiden was one of the Ascended. If anyone in this world understood hidden mechanics and cosmic rules, it was her.

  And, once again, he ran straight into the same problem.

  If he were Aigon, he could have called out to her at any time. The Moon Maiden always answered a hero who carried her blessing. But for everyone else, she opened the Lunar Halls only once a year. Representatives of humans, elves, and dwarves – those deemed worthy and trustworthy – were chosen to deliver their petitions.

  Being selected was an incredible honor. One that had to be earned.

  And the next opening was still six months away.

  Far too long.

  Of course, the Moon Maiden wasn’t the only Ascended. There were others.

  But she was the most human-friendly of them all.

  Kel didn’t really know the rest – and he definitely wasn’t ready to trust them with his secret. What if one of them decided the simplest solution was to kill the bearer of an archmage’s power?

  A soft rustle came from the side, and Kel spun toward the sound. Sparks danced at his fingertips on instinct.

  A cat that had jumped onto the fence stared at him with round yellow eyes.

  Kel dispelled the spell and stroked the cat.

  “Sorry, friend. I'm not myself today.”

  Realizing what he had just said, Kel couldn’t help but laugh. It felt a little easier to breathe. After all, how long could he keep brooding? Even he was starting to tire of it.

  The cat froze under his hand, its fur standing on end. Kel felt it too – magical currents were twisting very close to the town. That meant a monster zone was forming.

  “Looks like this is my chance to see what I’m actually capable of.”

  In the past, mages didn’t monitor magical disturbances in the Wastelands, and no clearing missions were sent here. It was simply too dangerous. The fact that the archmage’s servants had turned a blind eye to settlers didn’t mean they would show the same mercy to their master’s enemies. By the doctrines of the magical world, any mage, adventurer, hero, or knight was required to acknowledge the Apostate as their irreconcilable foe – and do everything in their power to destroy him.

  Besides, who would risk their lives for the rabble of the Wastelands? Loot and experience points could be earned in far safer places. That was why Kel was more than certain: despite the magical threads stretched over the area, none of the mages gathered near the castle would come to the settlers’ aid.

  Kel ran a quick diagnostic, determining the exact direction where the zone would form. At most, it would mature within a minute, and monsters would emerge. Three minutes after that, they would already be in the town.

  Since teleporting to the exact spot wasn’t an option, he had a backup plan. Speed enchantments worked only over short distances, but it would be enough. Kel focused and stepped forward. The surroundings blurred as if he were riding a high-speed train.

  “Damn it!”

  Dropping to his knees, Kel hissed through clenched teeth. The muscles of his new body simply couldn’t handle such strain.

  “Train. Again. And again,” he promised himself as he struggled to stand, bracing against the trunk of a tree. Luckily, he was almost at the target location.

  The zone was nearly fully formed. Its edges shimmered with a pale green haze. Kel readied himself, keeping in mind the cardinal rule: don’t use magic too strong, or they’d notice.

  The veil lifted.

  A dozen local trolls appeared before him. Towering at twice human height, with gray skin and long clawed arms. Nearly the entire round head was taken up by a gaping mouth full of teeth. Even without eyes, they moved astonishingly fast and were a serious threat.

  All the trolls had one desire – food – and they could smell it for miles. Their heads snapped toward the city, and Kel saw a trickle of drool running from one of their mouths.

  “It’s time.”

  The first creature went down with a bolt of lightning. A spell even a mid-level mage could cast. Simple, but effective.

  A cutting flash, and another troll collapsed, split clean from head to groin.

  Automatically, Kel reached for his sword and cursed under his breath. He’d have to fix that later. For now… he grabbed a stick lying on the ground. It flared with black fire. Kel thrust it into the ground, and the black flames transformed into a dark mist that spread across the clearing, forming a barrier along its edge. Safer this way. Zones rarely came as a single wave unless high-rank bosses were involved. Kel didn’t want to miss anyone.

  For all his spells, he poured in the minimum amount of mana–and it felt… frustrating. He knew he could wipe all monsters out with a snap of his fingers, but he had to hold back. That annoyed him. He cast a gravity spell, and three more trolls were simply flattened into the ground.

  Even such a small flow of mana felt strange to his body. Maybe his magical core needed time to adapt, too. Kel felt the same exhaustion he had after saving the tower. No wonder mages were divided by levels according to their strength. Gaining access to a mana source wasn’t enough–you had to train to absorb it and use it efficiently.

  “This is something I need to work on too,” Kel mentally noted as he dealt with another troll.

  The creatures moved incredibly fast – for a normal human. He, however, easily dodged their strikes and launched his attacks. The spell of tearing flashed in his mind.

  “That was a bad idea,” Kel thought, barely avoiding the splatter. From then on, he destroyed the monsters quickly. Every troll fell instantly. They hadn’t granted such mercy to their victims.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  “Looks like that’s it.” He had just finished with the third wave of monsters and tuned into the fluctuations of the magical fields. The corruption zone had ceased to exist.

  Kel felt a warmth near his chest. Right–he had stashed the Adventurer’s Sign in his inner pocket. Now it was signaling that he had new data. He needed to check how his status had changed after this battle.

  “You have gained +150 experience points. Congratulations!

  You are now eligible to attempt the Bronze Rank trial.

  For further instructions, please visit the nearest Adventurer’s Guild.”

  Kel tucked the sign back into his pocket. A plan for his next moves slowly took shape in his mind.

  “They say it’s best to hide things in plain sight. Maybe I should do the same? Since I can’t access the Archmage’s supplies and just vanish, I’ll have to take a different approach.

  And why not? Dark Archmage – Adventurer! Sounds awesome. Plus, I’ll get some practice in.”

  Kel crouched down next to one of the trolls. After death, their bodies quickly turned to sand, and bits of magical ore could be found in it. Most often, it was used to craft magical weapons and armor. Not the most valuable loot, but enough to sell for some coins.

  “Well, here’s a solution to another one of our problems,” he muttered.

  With a spell, Kel gathered all the magical ore and, out of habit, almost sent it straight to his inventory. He caught himself at the last moment, having to stuff the loot into the pockets of his jacket.

  He was just wondering what to do with the last small pile that wouldn’t fit anywhere when he sensed a portal opening. He cloaked himself in invisibility, dampened his mana flows, and stepped behind a tree. Perfect timing. Out of the portal stepped Magister Targis.

  Now, he looked far from the relaxed man in the tent. Focused gaze, precise gestures. In his hand was a short magical staff. His robes were streaked with blood and slime.

  The mage glanced at the piles of sand left by the trolls, clearly puzzled.

  “What is he doing here?” Kel wondered. “Did I get careless and the magical threads pick up my presence? But why is he covered in all that…?”

  Impossible.

  It seemed that Magister of the Tower had personally gone out to clear a corruption zone.

  “Come out. I just want to talk,” Targis said.

  ***

  Targis only cast a glance at the piles of sand left by the trolls. He immediately understood–another mage had been here. And judging by the traces, it had been very recent.

  When Targis sensed that new corruption zones were opening, he had immediately gone to deal with them, fully confident he could handle the cleanup quickly on his own.

  He would have spent more time explaining to the other mages why they should bother using their strength to protect the Wastes. The mages had gathered to fight the archmage and his minions. Period. Unfortunately, inside the Tower, it was like a terrarium filled with the deadliest snakes. Even if he issued a direct order, the Council of Mages would convene afterwards. They would demand he justify his decision. Everyone was gunning for a seat as one of the Tower’s magisters, including his own first assistant. Everyone would use any slip-up against him.

  Targis would gladly have shrugged off the burden of leadership if not for his deep sense of responsibility. He missed teaching and the cleanup missions. There, loyal comrades had your back, instead of stabbing you in it.

  Usually, the mages didn’t bother keeping an eye on the Wastes–it wasn’t their responsibility. But now, thanks to the magical threads, Targis learned that six new corruption zones were about to appear. All at once. Quite a lot for such a small area.

  First, he went to the zone opening in the central square of the local town. Then the second, third, and fourth zones. But the fifth zone caused problems. A powerful boss had appeared there, and Targis spent more time than he had planned.

  He arrived at the sixth and final zone a minute and a half late.

  The monsters were already gone.

  It was definitely not an adventurer or an ordinary mage. They would have needed much more time. Only a very powerful mage could have wiped out the trolls in a minute and a half.

  No – actually, the stranger had needed even less time. Targis noticed that there was no magical ore left in the trolls. Collecting that would have taken additional time.

  Ally? Enemy?

  All the possible allies were still drinking back at the camp. And mages of the right level could be counted on one hand.

  So, an enemy? Unlikely. The minions of the Dark Archmage wouldn’t waste time protecting the locals. And if they were killing monsters for loot, they could’ve picked something more profitable than trolls. Really, Targis was sure that the Archmage’s servants ran off with stuffed inventories, caring nothing for the monsters.

  The master scanned the clearing. He sensed faint, almost imperceptible traces of mana left from the spells. No dark traces at all.

  “Then it’s one of our own,” Targis concluded. “But why gather the ore?”

  A mage of that power should be swimming in gold. Targis didn’t understand what was happening, and he didn’t like it.

  The scan showed he was alone on the clearing. No living beings nearby. Except for some rabbits hiding by the oak. Still, Targis knew someone was here, even though everything else told him otherwise.

  “Don’t trust your senses–trust yourself,” his mentor had always said. “Sword, magic, sight – they can fail. Believe your inner voice.”

  There was someone here, very strong, very dangerous.

  For some reason, Targis remembered the morning incident with that boy, Kelmir.

  “No, nonsense.” After all, both magic and his inner voice had told him to let the boy go. “To prevent disaster.” A terrible, foolish thought. Targis immediately pushed it aside. Of course – because he didn’t sense any real threat from the boy.

  Targis raised his staff and aimed it at one of the trees.

  “Come out. I just want to talk.”

  For a moment, he thought he felt a light, almost imperceptible spike of magic. To control its manifestation like that, you had to be an incredible master.

  Targis stepped closer to the tree and peered around it. On the ground, a handful of magical ore glittered.

  ***

  “Phew, made it out.” Once again, the haste spell came to his aid.

  Kel had zero desire to deal with the magister of the Tower right now. Sure, he could win, but the amount of noise that would cause… Not something he wanted to deal with. Especially when he finally had a brilliant plan to improve his own life.

  He stopped by the tavern. Almost the whole town was asleep, only the tavern itself was lit. Seems like the local smuggler had decided to see off their old life with a bang.

  The magical ore weighed pleasantly in his pockets. He hoped at least some of it could be exchanged for a hearty breakfast.

  A commotion rose in the tavern courtyard. “I said out!” the owner shouted. “Get out!”

  Shouting was about all he could manage. A drunken crowd dragged the tied-up innkeeper into the yard. Blood ran from his broken nose, and the corner of his mouth. Laughing like maniacs, they threw him to the ground.

  “Same crowd,” Kel thought. The same drunken smuggler and his crew. Though calling them people was a stretch.

  The group kept mocking the innkeeper.

  “No one ever teach you that you should share with your own? And tonight, I’ll be family to you. Your son-in-law, you could say. Doesn’t get much closer than that.”

  “Don’t you dare,” the innkeeper rasped–and earned a kick to the stomach for it.

  Kel clenched his fists. Like the innkeeper, he understood the hint immediately.

  “Just tell us where you’re hiding your savings, and we’ll leave quietly in the morning. You and your daughters stay alive. But if we have to look for it ourselves, I’ll slit your throats and burn this place to the ground.”

  “I’ll give you everything,” the innkeeper said hoarsely. “Just promise you won’t touch my family.”

  “I promise,” the leader said, laughing mockingly. He didn’t even try to sound convincing, openly reveling in his power.

  “Leave.”

  Kel said a single word.

  “Oh, the sucker showed up. Feeling like a hero?”

  One of the smugglers lunged at Kel with a sword. Kel sidestepped the attack effortlessly.

  People really are slow, he thought. After the lightning-fast trolls, it felt like the attacker was barely moving at all.

  “So you want to play?” a man in the crowd laughed. A small glowing sphere appeared in his hand–ball lightning.

  That’s tiny, Kel thought. Still enough to kill a man. He’s probably absurdly proud of himself.

  Kel looked at the smug face and said calmly:

  “I do. Very much.”

  The lightning fizzled out. The man stared at his empty hand in confusion.

  “You have no idea how much.”

  Monsters were monsters.

  The enemies in front of him were far worse.

  Kel wove a spell, and every attacker collapsed to the ground. He crushed their will the same way they had just crushed the innkeeper’s ribs–easily, almost playfully.

  One by one, he severed the threads of their senses: sight, hearing, voice. Then movement.

  It was hard to breathe when you couldn’t move a single muscle.

  He gave them absolute emptiness – and the terror of a slow, inevitable death.

  At the last second, Kel stopped himself.

  What the hell is happening to me?!

  He wiped the sweat from his brow and ordered the writhing pile on the ground,

  “Get out.”

  This time, no one disobeyed.

  Kel crouched beside the innkeeper. The man stared at him with eyes full of terror. Despite the darkness, Kel could clearly see his own reflection in the man’s pupils.

  He cut the ropes and quickly checked him. There were injuries, but nothing life?threatening.

  “Where is your family?”

  “Don’t touch them,” the man rasped again.

  To him, Kel was probably a monster far worse than the attackers. Kel decided to calm him down.

  “You need to be moved inside. Is there a healer or a herbalist in town? You need help, and I… I can’t heal.”

  Kel gave an awkward, almost shy smile.