Priyorsk.
A small town located in the northwest of the Soviet Union, north of St. Petersburg, by the shore of Lake Ladoga.
Even in May, the weather remained cool.
In the evening, Murphy descended from the sky like lightning, appearing near a river bend.
After receiving Bartemius Crouch Jr.'s message, Murphy had come directly here. Seeking dialogue was his intention, and from Crouch Jr.'s description, he had guessed some clues.
This could be an opportunity for his plans in the Soviet Union.
Shortly after his arrival, a face suddenly appeared on a white pine nearby, and a man emerged from the tree, "Mr. Murphy Darkholm?"
Murphy glanced at the man, who wore a sleek military uniform with a cloak adorned with blue and red stripes, resembling a modern variation of a shaman's attire.
"It's me."
"Please follow me. Her Majesty is waiting for you by the lake."
Murphy nodded without much surprise and followed the man along a path towards the lakeshore.
"My name is Azir," the man, walking slightly ahead of Murphy, seemed very friendly. "Court Shaman, somewhat akin to Her Majesty's secretary and errand runner."
"Murphy, a common wizard," Murphy introduced himself.
"You're being too modest," Azir's English was quite good, hardly revealing a Soviet accent. "Your name is almost universally known in the British wizarding world. I hear you're teaching at Hogwarts now?"
"You've done thorough research."
"Sorry, just a basic understanding of you. We don't have many chances to interact with wizards from other countries. To learn about you, we had to use this method."
"I understand. I'd do the same," Murphy said. "But compared to your knowledge of me, I know very little about your country."
"Oh, didn't those wizards you invited to be your guests answer your questions?"
"They haven't opened up to me yet," Murphy said.
In truth, the Soviet wizards had been thoroughly interrogated. Legilimency combined with Veritaserum made them spill everything.
Thanks to them, Murphy knew about the strained relationship between Empress Sofia Petrovna of Arkaim and her uncle, the regent and acting ruler, Grand Duke Ivan.
Empress Sofia was about to come of age and wanted to rule, but her uncle was reluctant to relinquish power.
This didn't surprise Murphy; similar scenarios had occurred numerous times in Chinese history, especially since the Grand Duke had three sons.
Azir glanced at Murphy.
The people Murphy had captured were mostly known to him. His earlier remark was a jab at Murphy for kidnapping foreign wizards, which was uncivilized.
But Murphy had admitted it nonchalantly, turning imprisonment and interrogation into something noble. No wonder he rose from a mere Ministry employee to a mastermind.
After exchanging a few trivial words, Murphy got a sense of Azir's attitude, and Azir gained some insight into Murphy.
Finally, they reached a terrace.
A slender figure stood by the railing, gazing at the lake in the distance. Only after Azir bowed and left did she turn around, "Hello, Mr. Darkholm. We finally meet."
Sofia was dressed in androgynous attire today, without her heavy crown. Her hair was simply done up, and she wore a blue-green military uniform.
She liked to dress this way, feeling it made her more competent and closer to an empress rather than a fragile princess.
She removed her gloves, lifting her right hand.
Murphy stepped forward, bowing slightly to take her hand, his lips lightly touching her smooth backhand, "Your Majesty."
"You should kneel," the empress reminded.
"Oh, sorry, Your Majesty," Murphy apologized but made no move. "In my homeland, we no longer have monarchs; all are equal. I only kneel to my parents, heaven and earth, my mentor, not others. Please forgive me."
It didn't really matter whether he knelt or not; it was just a courtesy. He was just trying to disrupt her rhythm to gain the upper hand.
The empress clearly didn't like his response. They stood still for a moment before Sofia asked, "Is Mr. Darkholm always so aggressive?"
"Sorry, Your Majesty, my Russian isn't very good. Did you say I'm too gentle and elegant?"
"…"
Sofia was momentarily speechless. His Russian was excellent! Why pretend otherwise?
And was he tickling her palm?! She was slightly angry yet amused, withdrawing her hand, "Mr. Darkholm, you really are humorous."
"Your Majesty flatters me."
Sofia suddenly felt less confident. This man, also in his early twenties, was so slippery. She felt she couldn't grasp him.
She shouldn't chat idly with such a cunning person. The more you talk, the more they can exploit. She should assert her authority.
"Hmph!" She snorted, putting on a stern face, "Murphy Darkholm. As a British wizard, causing trouble in your own country is one thing, but daring to extend your reach to the Soviet Union, plotting against our president, attempting to overthrow the government, killing a great shaman, capturing and imprisoning Soviet wizards, how do you plead?"
As she spoke, several pairs of eyes lit up in the nearby woods. They watched intently, and Murphy felt a surge of magic, as if ready to attack and obliterate him at her command.
Murphy's smile remained, "Your guards are indeed well-trained. I've heard of combat mages in your country, specialized in battle magic, and the royal guards are the best among them. It seems their reputation is well-deserved."
"Scared now?"
"May I ask, Your Majesty, how quickly can your fastest battle spell kill someone?"
"What?" Sofia didn't understand.
"To my knowledge, the fastest attack spell among your shamans is the wind blade, reaching several times the speed of sound. The nearest guard is about twenty steps from me. Even without incantations, it would take several milliseconds to behead me."
"And Your Majesty, do you know the speed of lightning?"
"You might not have a clear idea, but it's about one hundred thousand to one million meters per second."
As he spoke, his eyes gradually glowed golden, with tiny serpents of electricity flickering in his hair.
"In ten milliseconds, one kilometer, enough for more than twenty round trips. If you want to kill me, you'll need at least a hundred-man squad."
"Oh, maybe that's not enough either."
"After all, the distance between you and me is only a step away."
Sofia's heart tightened suddenly.
Even knowing the highly skilled court matron, Lady Yaga, was secretly protecting her, and that she wore no less than five magical items for instant teleportation or sacrificial protection, she still felt a trace of fear.
She regretted being fooled by his harmless, handsome face, not considering he was daring enough to kidnap the Soviet president.
If he dared kidnap the president, who's to say he wouldn't dare assassinate her?
If only she had heeded Lady Yaga's advice to meet him in the palace.
Sofia's heart raced, but her face showed no sign, "Are you threatening me?"
"How could I?" Murphy smiled. "I was just discussing the weather with you."
He stepped back half a step, gesturing invitingly, "I've always heard of the beauty of Lake Ladoga. It would be a pity just to stand here."
"Your Majesty, may I invite you for a walk?"
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