It will be some time before I am able to lay my hands on such a magnificent object. It appears quite imposing! Even at a distance of several metres from the staff, one can sense its extraordinary power and overwhelming presence,» Alfonso circled my staff, which hovered vertically in the air, his admiration palpable.
His enthusiasm was unwavering. My brother is currently about halfway through the seventh octave, at around 6.5, yet he continues to work on himself, never neglecting his personal development. He meticulously performs all the required annual rituals, imbibes elixirs, and relentlessly trains his magical core. In approximately a century, he will reach the seventh octane and attain the status of an Archmage, after which he will be able to create his own staff.
«You will have your staff in a century.»
In Alfonso's eyes, I could see that he would begin crafting his staff as soon as he achieved the rank of Archimage. Magic was his passion, and he would never cease his pursuit of greater power. The more potent one becomes, the wider the horizons of magic open up.
"I shall fashion the thigh bone of the god you have given me into a staff. Such a material of exceptional quality will allow me to imbue it with a single great spell," Alfonso mused. But with a slight frown, he added, "However, it can only be demonstrated in extreme circumstances. Should anyone discover my possession of such an artifact, I shall be pursued."
"In times of peril, you may always summon your elder brother. I shall swiftly disabuse any pretenders of their false claims to your relic." His countenance shifted, recalling that he now embodied the twin of both the Dark Lord and the Archmage.
"Yes, I find myself suddenly curious about the experience of being in such a position, witnessing Salazar Slytherin in combat with my own eyes." His gaze began to unnerve me slightly. I wondered if he might engage in battle alongside the Dark Lord himself.
I swiftly changed the subject, fearing his thoughts might carry him away. "What will you use as the core for your wand?"
No, I am not afraid of conflict. However, why would I seek it? On the contrary, I aim to evade the attention of those who are interested in me. These include, first and foremost, several factions of ecclesiastics vying for influence within the Vatican, hoping to recruit me into their ranks. Additionally, there are the leaders of numerous ancient and esteemed European families, aspiring to see me either as a mentor for their children, a spouse for their female relatives, or a personal healer for their kin. The possibilities are numerous.
As Alfonso conversed with me, debating the optimal core for his staff, I engaged in a mental parsing of the ancient deity's memories and knowledge. It transpired that I had initially assumed the creature I slew, whose essence I captured, to be a god of chaos. Its aspects included darkness, water, and, rather peculiarly, bone. I commenced my investigation into its memory the day following the creation of the staff and the infusion of its essence with the soul of a daemon god.
The abyssal belch is of an age beyond my comprehension. It is not a deity in the flesh or one who has ascended. It did not emerge from the faith of mortals nor evolve through the evolution of souls. It was born a god and its existence spans over seventy millennia.
I also find amusement in discovering its parentage. It is the by-product of Dagon, a deity whose very essence embodies the madness of the sea and the impenetrable depths of its abyss.
Approximately eighty thousand years ago, our planet collided with a dark realm known as Lang. During this collision, which united our worlds into a single channel, a solitary and unwitting child of Dagon, a deity of limited intelligence, was transported from the Lang realm. At that time, the fate that awaited this child in our world was unknown to it.
Dagon, the parent deity, intended to use his offspring as food. However, the portal that transported the child did not land it on land, but instead cast it into the depths of the sea, where it lived and grew in strength for over ten thousand years. Being a deity from birth, this child did not require the worship of others for its development. After believing in itself and feeling ready for fulfillment, it sought to rule over all the seas and oceans on Earth. Its ambitions would have been realized had the Atlanteans not existed at that time.. The Atlanteans, an immortal race of fae, had established their presence in our world, becoming the sole masters of the oceans. Their origins can be traced back to the dawn of time, when their ancestors evolved from cephalopod molluscs. Physically, they resembled a hybrid between an octopus and squid, with a portion of their bodies enclosed in a shell, yet they were no longer than four meters in length. Their civilization was ancient beyond measure, and upon their arrival on Earth, they achieved remarkable heights in the realm of magic. Had they been capable of inhabiting the surface world, the entire planet would have fallen under their dominion eons ago.
It was ill-fated for Dagon's son to encounter the Atlanteans in their quest for dominance in the oceanic realms. His initial encounter with these elusive beings was fraught with peril. Three of their number, despite their numerical superiority, were unable to vanquish him entirely, leaving him victorious in the confrontation.
However, what the son of Dagon did not anticipate was the telepathic link that bound the Atlantean race together. The moment the three fell, their collective consciousness was instantly aware of their demise. Before the son of Dagon could even tend to his wounds, hundreds of Atlanteans descended upon him, overwhelming him with their sheer numbers and superior strength. In a matter of moments, they had subdued the demonic god, binding him within the carapace of one of their fallen kin.
Once secured in their custody, they unleashed a curse of insanity upon him, rendering his powers beyond his own control.
Dear me! Completely losing his sanity, he transformed into a frenzied beast and managed to defy Khohnan, the Supreme Magician, the deity of magic, and the eleven archimages.
During his captivity among the Atlanteans, they exploited him as a power source, using him to fuel the protective shield of one of their submerged settlements, which were numerous across the Earth's oceans.
Following their capture of Dagon's son, the Atlanteans remained on Earth for an additional thirty millennia, leaving the captive deity in ignorance of their reasons and destination. Curiously, they did not take him with them, leaving his imprisoned form in the very settlement where he had served as a source of energy for the shield. Prior to this, they had deactivated the shield itself and eradicated all traces of their magical legacy within the underwater cities, ensuring the concealment of their arcane secrets.
For forty millennia, the son of Dagon had been a captive, ensconced within a shell, and plagued by the curse of insanity. During this period, the topography of the submarine landscape underwent a transformation. As a consequence, the former seabed, which had once sheltered the imprisoned demon god, now emerged as dry land, devoid of any trace of its former identity. Had it not been for the intervention of a Neanderthal tribe, the son of Dagon might have remained an eternally imprisoned by the enchantments of Atlantean sorcery.
The Neanderthals discovered the shell and began offering sacrifices to it, observing that those who deprived it of life briefly gained a measure of strength. Subsequently, the Cro-Magnon people took possession of the shell, continuing the practice of sacrifices, which provided them with a temporary advantage. Throughout this time, the son of Dagon preserved his strength, biding his time for an opportunity to break free from his confinement.
His chance came when the SkyFrakhs took possession of his prison, engaged in a conflict with the KhaAmmarrians, providing the son of Dagon with an opportunity to escape his long-standing captivity.
Now, the son of Dagon is a captive of my forces. Thus, I have attained near-absolute dominion over water, shadows, and bone. Naruto's Kimimaro pales in comparison. Were I to attempt to replicate his Bone Forest Jutsu, I could easily envelop an area spanning hundreds of hectares. These bones would pierce through virtually any defense, save those of the legendary and mythical ranks. Should my adversary be grounded, their fate is sealed. My might cannot even be compared to that of the sea or other bodies of water. With the power of the captive deity at my disposal, I possess the ability to submerge the entire population of Albion in a tsunami measuring a kilometer in height. True, the effort would leave me exhausted, but the magnitude of my power is undeniable.
It was an extraordinary sensation when, mastering my abilities, I stepped barefoot into the river Wien, near the eponymous Austrian capital. I could sense the power over all water from the numerous springs in the Wienerwald and its flow into the Danube, and through it I could extend my power to the Black Sea.
Even without the staff containing a captive deity, my title as the Dark Lord granted me a profound affinity with darkness. However, with a deity imprisoned within the staff, whose essence was darkness itself, I now possessed the ability to traverse the pathways of darkness to any destination, even other dimensions. Yet, I had no intention of doing so. My curiosity was fierce, but until I embarked on a journey to an unknown world, I would remain uncertain about its nature and what awaited me there. I had learned my lesson from my previous folly. Once, venturing into an ancient tomb, I nearly became a threat to the Dark God. No, thank you, I thought. Even if I became a god of magic, a high mage, I would not take such a risk.
I have also begun to develop my abilities in the realm of Shadow magic, which previously eluded me entirely. Shadow and Darkness are two distinct yet closely intertwined aspects. They are akin to Cryomancy and Hydromancy, representing distinct aggregate states of matter with distinct concepts.
The Darkness aspect of magic embodies the concepts of oblivion, anguish, suffering, and tranquility, representing the negation of light. Conversely, Shadow represents the boundary between light and dark, encompassing secrecy, invisibility, and the emergence of darkness from light. It is challenging to articulate the essence of each facet of magic through human language.
Having acquired a subservient individual, utterly subjugated to my whims and desires, I embarked on a daily ritual of channeling his mana through my being, purifying my wellspring of sorcery with its essence. In this process, I augmented my affinity with water and the dark arts, while imbuing my bone magic with newfound potency.
It was not a task to be undertaken with ease. The mana emanating from the son of Dagon bore traces of ba-hyon, and its very essence was bound to serve its Master. Thus, it exerted a gentle influence upon my magical essence. Even the minor injuries it inflicted upon me were swiftly healed by the benevolence of the ba-hyon.
Following each of these sessions, I cleansed myself with the sacred magic of light, which not only provided healing but also ensured that the affinity I had developed with the light magic through the use of the crossfade remained intact.
Thus, time passed in an endless cycle of training and control, and I became so immersed in my own development that I failed to notice how many years had elapsed. It was the year 1582, and in conversation with Alfonso, the name of my former apprentice came up, along with her rise to prominence within the Healers' Guild. Otherwise, I might have paid closer attention to the conversation and been occupied with contemplating new spells once again. I was unaware that she had joined the Guild — I had not been in contact with her since my departure from Castle Badoer.
Upon recovering from the creation of the Archmage's Staff, I embarked on the task of restructuring my spells, transitioning them from wand-based magic to staff-based. This allowed for greater power and versatility, such that with the same spell like Reparo, I could now rebuild a ruined building, as the staff could withstand the necessary flow of magical energy, while a wandless incantation would have been prohibitively costly.
Thus, I acquired the ability to cast spells using a staff, which I did not learn from Salazar's memories. Or rather, I did not acquire any spells beyond the intermediate level. After all, his mana reserves were not particularly impressive. Morgana, on the other hand, imparted to me either spells of death or spells of life, and she employed these only during her time as a priestess of Morrigan. Thereafter, she never attained sufficient power to require a staff for casting more advanced spells. Her progress was hindered by the curse bestowed upon her by Morrigan, forcing her to seek new bodies and thus limiting her advancement in her previous incarnation.
On Sundays, Alfonso and I would convene for dinner, followed by a conversation over a glass of brandy. My participation in these gatherings was often half-hearted, with only a sliver of my mind engaged. Only when the discussion turned to intricate matters of magic would I emerge from my reverie and fully engage in the conversation.
But today, I was all ears. Alfonso informed me of the incident involving the healers' guild and the tumult that had erupted in Rome following last night's event at the Medici residence. What a pack of fools! Why not simply put an end to their existence?
***Maria Francoise Badoer.*
"Well, Koneko," Maria said, bowing her head in sorrow, "you were right as usual, and Svyatozar is gone from us."
"Oh, why do you fret so?" Koneko asked with a bite in her voice. "He told you he did not abandon you, and everything depends on you and your determination. I understand him well enough!"
"Do you understand?" Maria's voice trembled with emotion.
The word "traitor" was on the tip of Maria's tongue, but she refrained from saying it.
"You don't understand us mortals," Koneko continued. "We Fae are eternal beings, and we don't want to share our immortality with mortals, not out of pride," she paused for a moment, "well, not entirely. We don't wish to bury those we love, taken from us by age and the certainty of death for those without an immortal soul. And it's even more heartbreaking to bury mortal children, if one has shared offspring with their beloved."
And to this, Maria could not find anything to object to.
"And how do you know that?" she asked, surprised by the revelation of her family name. "Did you come to me like a kitten?"
"Blood memory," was the reply.
There was a brief silence as they both contemplated their thoughts. The day passed in a haze, as neither girl could fully accept the absence of a mentor who could answer their questions.
Towards evening, Maria sought out her spiritual guide.
Bowing her head in respect, she began, "Good evening, Cardinal Amati. I seek your counsel." Her hesitance was unusual for her, and Vincenzo immediately noted it.
"Yes, my child, I am here to listen."
"Could you please persuade my father to allow me to travel to Rome, where I can pursue mastery in the art of healing, followed by an extended period of practice and study?"
Maria was well aware that her father would not allow her to go on her own. No longer a mere girl, she was an unwed member of the Badoer household, and thus it was inappropriate for her to engage in any activity other than attending church and performing charitable work.
"Hmm," the cardinal mused, stroking his already substantial beard. "It will not be an easy task. But I believe I have a solution that may convince him to allow you to accompany me to Rome under my supervision."
He regarded Maria with a sense of satisfaction, recognizing that even at her advanced age for a woman of this time period, her emotions were still easily discernible. The impatience and desire for a resolution to her dilemma were evident in the clear expression on her face.
If I were to inform your father that you wish to attend a religious institution in the Vatican, he would not object.
There was no need to refute his claim. As a devout son of the Catholic Church and a noble and honorable Don of Venice, he would not stand in the way of his daughter, who he had never been able to wed, following the path of the Church. On the contrary, Francesco, as the current ruler of the city, would embrace the idea with joy. After all, it would silence all his adversaries in the power struggle in Venice, depriving them of their sole reason for boasting about him — his forty-year-old unmarried daughter.
"Are you innocent, child?" Vencenzenzo interrupted Maria's thoughts as she contemplated the potential course of events from every perspective.
Should she choose to visit the Vatican under such pretext, she would be compelled to attend this institution and devote a significant amount of time to it. Indeed, in her mind's eye, she envisioned her future exclusively with Svyatozar, tying her destiny to his. However, her educators and kin had instilled in her a sense of pride and duty towards her clan, compelling her to uphold her promise and pursue her studies at a spiritual academy. Her goal was to excel, leaving no room for criticism of negligence or laziness. Graduation with distinction was her sole aspiration!
"Pardon me, Your Holiness, I was lost in thought and did not catch your question," she offered an apology for her lapse.
"I asked if you have yet to consummate your union with a man," Vencenzo clarified.
At this question, Maria's face flushed with anger, and she responded with a menacing glare, almost hissing, "How dare you! I would never, never! I am a maiden, sir!" The question had so enraged Maria that she disregarded all propriety and etiquette, addressing Vencenzo as a commoner.
"Marvelous!" Vencenzenzo failed to heed the ire of his protégée, having long since grown accustomed to her temperament, display of emotion, and impetuosity. Turning towards the desk, he extracted a chain adorned with a diminutive lantern from a diminutive casket. "Here, Maria, put it on."
Maria hesitated before accepting the item. Svyatozar had instilled in her a strict edict not to accept anything magical from the hands of others, not even those closest to her. Before touching such an object, it was imperative to scrutinize it meticulously through spells and specialized rituals. In the absence of immediate access to such means, the object should be placed in a protective container or another vessel with similar properties for subsequent examination.
So she did as her instructor had instructed her to do. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a wand from her ring, which contained a small spatial pocket. With this wand, she cast three spells in quick succession, each one touching the chain that held the lamp.
After a few moments, she received feedback about the nature of the artifact. "Hmm, the artifact is elemental," she mused. "When a certain condition is fulfilled, a light will appear in the lamp..." No, not a light! It was something more. "...a holy light, manifesting itself in the form of pure white."
"That's correct, Maria," she said. "It does precisely what you described. However, it will shine only around the neck of a pure and true Catholic."
Well, Maria would contend that the latter was the case, aware that the chain of Saint George the Victorious now resided in the possession of Salazar Slytherin, and rightfully belonged to him. She could not help but smile as she envisioned the reactions of the College of Cardinals and the Pope should they suddenly discover that they were contemplating canonizing the Dark Lord.
Indeed, he was a serpent. Even she experienced a sadistic thrill at the thought that her teacher had been leading the entire congregation astray, with her own complicity in the deception through her knowledge and silence regarding her Svyatozar — yes, her own! Perhaps Koneki's, too.
Yes, that was right. The Cardinal paused in his discourse, observing that Maria had once again fallen into contemplation.
"Ahem, Maria," he said, "what do you think of my proposed method of departure for Rome?"
"I concur," Maria replied, having already made up her mind. She also harbored aspirations to leverage her proximity with the Cardinal, hoping to attend the training center of the Knights of the Creator and undertake an extensive course of instruction. In this endeavor, she placed her trust in Vincenzo, their Master as well.
Indeed, thanks to the ring bestowed upon her by Svyatozar, Maria now had access to his library. Within its pages lay spells, descriptions of techniques, and strategies for countering the various foes of the Order that had already found their way into her beloved's pockets. However, these were merely theoretical knowledge. With the guidance of an experienced mentor, she could master everything at her disposal and effectively apply this knowledge in combat.
Determined, Maria resolved not to delay in accepting the Cardinal's gift, as he had granted his consent. It was evident that he desired to keep her close, allowing him to maintain contact with Svyatozar. In the very office of her spiritual father, she created a diagnostic circle. Ensuring the safety of the artifact for herself, she delved deeper, uncovering no further hidden secrets. Finally, she adorned herself with the ring, a delicate warmth and sunlight radiating from the hollow between her delightfully rounded bosom.
The following day was a day of celebration at Castle Badoer, at least for two of its residents. Specifically, for Maria, who had been granted her father's permission to study in the Vatican, and for Francesco himself, who had finally been relieved of the persistent pain in his back that had been tarnishing his reputation.
Now, she would begin to accrue political points simply by virtue of her presence in the capital of a former empire, serving the glory of God. Moreover, she bore on her neck an undeniable and visible token of her innocence, which could potentially lead to her securing a prominent position. Yet she was no ordinary girl; she was the daughter of one of Europe's wealthiest and most illustrious families, a student of Blessed Svyatozar Zmiev, the conduit of the Creator's miracles throughout Venice! To top it all off, she possessed formidable magical abilities.
Upon arriving in Rome, the cardinal promptly made his way directly to the seminary. There, he informed the director of the seminary that they now had a new student in their midst. Following the introduction, he promptly proceeded to the guild of healers.
The proceedings at the guild followed a similar pattern. The most powerful paladin of the church in Rome was well-known among mages and noblemen alike — he was a lofty figure, and in his fight against evil, he did not even take orders from the pope. While the latter could, of course, strip him of his cardinalship, he could not deprive him of his position as master of the order. This title had been bestowed upon him by the egregore of faith in the One, who, in the eyes of the church, was the Lord, and only the Lord could revoke it.
As a personal apprentice to a master within the guild, Maria was exempt from paying the fee for examination and certification.
A sennight later, Maria was conferred her first master's title. The entire august body of the guild's esteemed masters was in attendance, including the guildmaster himself, who had not yet retired after thirty years in office. Meanwhile, the Borgia and Medici clans were engaged in a bitter struggle for control of the position of guildmaster.
Maria's performance during the examination was nothing short of stellar. In her preparation, she not only crafted a potion known as Clear Mind to address mental trauma and alleviate certain mental disorders, but she also modernized the process, reducing the time required for preparation and incorporating alternative ingredients rather than those specified in the original recipe. This innovation significantly reduced the cost of the potion, estimated to be nearly a hundred gold in value. The substitutes she employed were inexpensive and readily available.
This was Maria's first significant practical work, having previously brewed the potion under the guidance of Svyatozar, her mentor. She had dedicated six months to its creation, and her efforts were finally recognized with this accolade.
So, why was Maria brewing a potion when the exam was for a master healer? This potion is a complex concoction, and to create it, the mage must continuously, throughout the entire preparation process, infuse a specific order and quantity of ingredients. Then, they must imbue the potion with the energy of life, both mental and neutral mana.
But that's not all Maria had to do to pass the exam. Once the potion was finished, she had to administer it to a person suffering from mental health issues. As the potion took effect, she needed to simultaneously correct its operation and influence in multiple planes within the patient.
She used mental magic to untangle the knots and irregularities in the patient's mental body that caused their abnormalities. She also employed life energy to address the problematic areas in the patient's brain that resulted from their mental issues.
She accomplished the task, albeit at a level beyond what an ordinary magus purporting to be a healer might achieve. It was a highly specialized undertaking, demanding a wealth of expertise, practice, and aptitude in the realms of mental sorcery and potion-making.
But she had not only astonished the audience with her skills; she had also made a surprising move by recognizing Koneko as her apprentice. After receiving the Master Healer's ring, she requested that the elders, who were already in a state of shock, conduct examinations on the beautiful feline while they were still present.
Koneko, in her feline form, had been lying on the table all this time, where Maria was preparing the ingredients for a future potion. As everyone immediately recognized the cat as an examiner's familiar, there were no complaints about her presence near her mistress, as it was a natural part of the order of things. Moreover, many familiars can assist their masters in preparing elixirs and other magical concoctions.
When Maria proposed her idea, Koneko leaped down from the table, transforming from a flaming red-haired cat into a seductive young woman.
The members of the guild were taken aback and perplexed. None of their regulations stipulated that only humans could join the guild, and there had never been any precedent of a master having a sentient familiar capable of assuming a humanoid form.
Consequently, on the very same day, Koneko became the bearer of the title of healer, despite having no particular aptitude in that field. Svyatozar, however, was not amused, and as soon as Koneko transformed into a charming little girl of approximately ten years of age, he swiftly took her under his wing and commenced her training in magic.
The knowledge that Koneko had acquired in her mind was sufficient to make her a master healer. Her primary objective was to protect her master, and how could she do so if, heaven forbid, Maria were mortally wounded and Koneko were unprepared to assist in such an event?
Svyatozar had encouraged Koneko to immerse herself in this field of study, and with the tenacity of a rhinoceros and despite her lack of natural talent, she persevered to achieve a high level of proficiency in the art, in the opinion of the Dark Lord. However, her primary focus was on combat and defense, as well as on disciplines such as astral magic, shamanism, pyromancy, aeromancy, close-quarters combat, and firearm proficiency.
Once again, five years later, Maria, like when she first apprenticed under Svyatozar, embarked on her studies at the seminary, where she delved into the sacred texts and the art of exorcism. Her days were spent at the training grounds of the Order of the Knights of the Creator, where she and Koneko honed their skills in combat against a diverse array of opponents. The knights proved to be masters of various forms of magic, ranging from powerful pyromancers to those who specialized in water manipulation. In essence, Maria and Koneko acquired the ability to confront a wide range of adversaries, both individual and group.
However, upon completing her seminary education, Maria found herself with an abundance of free time, unsure of how to navigate her next steps. She declined the Vatican's invitation to become an abbess in a monastery, opting to remain in Rome, allowing herself the time to contemplate her future plans.
She did not remain idle for long, as she was soon sought after by members of esteemed and influential European families. These individuals sought her assistance when other healers in the guild were unable to provide relief. Over the course of four years, her reputation as the preeminent mage in the Healing Guild grew, not among her fellow guild members, but among the aristocracy, who recognized her exceptional talent and skill.
This development did not sit well with the House of Medici, who harbored a deep-seated resentment due to the circumstances surrounding Svyatozar's actions against their leader and heir. Their decision to target the daring young woman as the next leader of the healing guild proved to be a fatal error in judgment.
Maria was frequently invited to social events at numerous esteemed homes, but she consistently declined. Her time was devoted entirely to studying or practicing spells at the training grounds of the Order. Only once every six months did she and Koneko journey to an island in the Caribbean, where they escaped from human society and indulged in leisure.
However, this time was different. It was a day of complete leisure, with the firing ranges occupied by recruits, leaving her with nothing to do, and there were no appointments with patients scheduled for that day. Then, an envelope arrived with an invitation for a reception at the residence of the Medici family in Rome, where the head of the family's name day would be celebrated. She decided to attend, as there were no other events of interest on her schedule for that day.
Her appearance at the reception was nothing short of spectacular. She and Koneko exuded an ethereal beauty, and it was Maria's debut since her elevation to the position of the guild's preeminent healer. This development had sparked much speculation, as the two beauties found themselves surrounded by families deeply involved in the political dynamics and power struggles of Rome, eager to decipher the significance of their presence at the event. Long accustomed to Maria's disinterest in social engagements, this unexpected turn of events had left everyone intrigued.
The Medici family saw this as an opportunity to settle scores with their teacher and eliminate their strongest rival for the position of head of the guild of healers. The surprise for the representatives of the Medici clan, who were aware that Maria was now enjoying the wine, was that it was a potent poison! In fact, there was only one substance in the glass — a family secret. Only the main branch of the Medici knew about this poison, and its taste was indistinguishable from that of ordinary wine. This is because it was wine itself.
For centuries, the Medici family has maintained a secretive vineyard, where grapes are cultivated, irrigated, and enriched with a variety of elixirs. From these poisonous grapes, several varieties are selected, and a bouquet of juices is crafted. After undergoing fermentation, this bouquet transforms into a wine, its essence being a potent poison.
The moment a person imbibed this wine, they would become intoxicated within fifteen minutes. The poison would cause blood clots to form, obstructing the heart valves and infiltrating the brain. Without the intervention of skilled healers within the initial five minutes, when the blood clotting process was in progress, death was deemed inevitable.
But Maria, as though nothing had transpired, savored the wine as though it were not a deadly poison but the finest nectar. And it was indeed delicious. But none of the Medici of this present generation were aware of it. They were not so foolish as to imbibe such a delicacy.
How could they have known that the artifact library of Svyatozar's creation, procured through a fifth-hand deal from the Vatican, had already supplanted the entire Medici library, which they had copied into it, and that Mary was already cognizant of the recipe for this poison?
After taking the first sip and recognizing the poison from its description, Maria magically embodied the antidote in her blood. Now she sipped her wine, simultaneously scanning her emotions and fleeting thoughts that were breaking through her mental defenses. She also observed the reactions of those in the hall. The young woman took mental notes, noting the expressions of anticipation and delight that initially crossed their faces upon seeing her drink, followed by surprise when, after half an hour, no signs of intoxication appeared.
Only the patriarch of the Borgia clan, who was present in the audience, was able to discern the glances exchanged between some of the Medici members and the pupil of their former acquaintance, followed by expressions of anger and disillusionment. No, these individuals were adept at maintaining an impassive façade, and few would have been able to detect any change in their demeanor. However, Antonio Borgia, a seasoned veteran in the realm of intrigue where everyone seeks to devour their neighbor, was well-versed in such subtleties. Sviatosar was merely instructing Maria, nothing more.
The following morning, a clap of thunder reverberated through the streets of Rome. The fate of the Medici dynasty took a tragic turn, as six members of the prominent family met their demise: the patriarch, his two sons, their mother, and two of his brothers. There was no ambiguity regarding the perpetrator. None of the noblemen residing in Rome, not even on the day of their departure, could question the responsibility for the demise of the late patriarch and his successor. Only the most devout could draw a parallel between this event and the presence of the ascetic at the Medici reception.
Within hours, the news spread like wildfire, reaching the ears of Alfonso's teacher.