Family matters and more

«No, Vencenzenzo, do not even ask. I have revealed myself to you only because I cannot conceal my divine nature without resorting to deception or manipulating your mind. My intention is not to engage in eternal conflicts and controversies between the various denominations of the One God, as my former flock was once known.»

«But if you were to make your will known to the world, would it not resolve most of our disputes if you clearly laid down your law of God for your flock? There would be no more dissension and disagreement, no more bloodshed among those who share the same faith.»

«Vencenzenzo», you are a mature man who grew up in the hallowed halls of Roman nobility, and you ought to understand that this course of action will not solve any issues but will only create more problems.

Seeing no conviction in your soul and no fortitude to challenge your «god», I continued: «Tell me, has the presence of a holy scripture helped Muslims, people of books and faith in One? Shiites and Sunnis, throughout their history, have delighted in cutting each other to the benefit of «Me»! And none of the prophets ever advocated violence, disorderliness or meanness; hypocrisy is an abhorrent sin in every current of faith in the Lord!

And what, are there not many such sinners among Catholics, Orthodox, Jews, or Muslims?

— You are right as always, — I had to concede to Vencenzenzo after a brief reflection that it is human nature. For the most part, people will always be rational, torn by contradictions, and it is only under conditions of severe totalitarianism and dictatorship that it is possible to bring society to utopia.

Only when an actual axe for non-compliance with the law hangs over everyone's head, not an ephemeral punishment for sin in the form of eternal torment in the afterlife. Only then can we achieve the Kingdom of Heaven on Earth. Only then will those who are prone to violence and seek the easy path to personal gain be forced to lead a life of a good citizen.

If the noose around such an individual's neck loosens, they will slip down the slope. We must either regularly weed out such individuals from society, identifying them at an early age and reshaping their personality, which amounts to murder, or create the conditions I described above.. It is a paradoxical situation that such a man, in the face of the primordial terror of impending punishment for his crimes in the here and now, is aware that the reckoning is sure to come, and yet he remembers this with all his strength, driving criminal thoughts away from his mind.

Vencenzenzo, there is no need to rush or attempt to grasp the vastness of the world at once. Your contributions to your Lord have been greater than those of all previous popes. Simply continue your work within the confines of Catholicism. There is no need for haste.

Of course, I may have exaggerated slightly when I said that Vencenzo had done more for the Egregore than any previous pope, but I did not mean to greatly magnify or extol his achievements.

Since the day of His resurrection, barely three years have passed, and yet in Europe, especially in its major cities, not a single destitute individual remains! This is a staggering number, amounting to several tens of millions! The Church has fully assumed responsibility for providing care for destitute children, establishing orphanages at its parishes, churches, and monasteries, where abandoned and otherwise homeless children from the entire region are brought and given shelter. In the past, these children would have grown up to become lumpen and other elements of the underclass, further exacerbating the criminal situation. However, this is no longer the case, as these children now have the opportunity to choose a different path for their future.

Now, these children were given a chance at a decent life. Should they prove themselves worthy while in the orphanage, the church would assist them in obtaining an education. I am not referring to universities or other institutions of higher learning; it was only in exceptional cases, when there was a prodigy, that most children were placed in workshops. By the time they graduated from the orphanage and became adults, they had acquired a profession that allowed them to earn a living wage and perhaps something extra.

Furthermore, the church established numerous homes for the physically challenged, where those with disabilities were provided with shelter, sustenance, and employment opportunities.

Naturally, the Church did not relinquish its power and means of influence over the governments of not only Western Europe, but also other parts of the world. Thus, the actions taken by the Vatican aimed at improving the well-being of its congregation were met with a keen response in the minds and hearts of the rulers and monarchs in countries where the Catholic Church wielded significant influence.

Well, here, the situation was simply that they had no alternative. The Orthodox Church has many patriarchates, all of which consider themselves important and in control; thanks to the Byzantine legacy, they lack unity. In contrast, the Catholics had things much simpler.

Of course, there were instances in the history of the Catholic Church when there were multiple popes at once who could not share power, but these were rare occurrences. For the past four centuries, the Catholic Church has been a highly unified institution, acting in unison against external enemies. If a politician or monarch failed to support such a cause, they would swiftly fall into disfavor in the Vatican and Europe. What would they do then? Their subjects or constituents would certainly not appreciate such a turn of events if their monarch or ruler were not only not opposed to the Holy Church but also not on friendly terms with it.

Alas, Svyatozar, I would not have even broached the subject if not for the letter I received the other day from the synod of the Russian Orthodox Church — the very same that hails from the Russian Empire — proposing the convening of an ecumenical council comprised of all the most exalted hierarchs from both their and our churches.

For a long time, they have been calving, but there is nothing unusual in this either. Nonetheless, the issue on their agenda has emerged as a serious and profound challenge, threatening to upend their entire foundation.

The resurrection of the current head of the Catholic Church has presented a significant obstacle to the efforts to undermine and persuade Christians to abandon Catholicism and embrace alternative beliefs. It is challenging to find arguments against one tenet of Christianity while simultaneously discrediting another when a revered figure is revived and takes the position of church leader.

Moreover, it is worth noting that miracles frequently occur in areas under Catholic control, which further undermines the credibility of the Orthodox Church.

The idea occurred to me to pay a visit to Russia and observe the lives of its inhabitants. It is the year 1899, and within a few years in my previous world, my nation will engage in a conflict with Japan, marking a crucial turning point that would lead to a swift revolution.

Certainly, the defeat in the war with Japan was not the sole cause of the subsequent horrors of civil war, where brothers turned against each other and fathers against their sons. Nonetheless, it significantly increased the likelihood of such an eventuality and facilitated the recruitment of individuals by foreign agents and other malevolent elements who capitalized on the discontent following Russia's defeat.

"Very well, Vencenzenzo," I said, "it's time for me to depart." Before he could formulate another inquiry, which I believed only I could address, I discreetly exited his office, vowing that I would never permit him to encounter the Unnamed One again without pressing need, merely for the sake of checking in on him. No, I would not allow it!

This is the third year that I have been separated from my family life, for my daughters are still slumbering, and they will need at least another year to remain in this state. Their spirits have undergone a profound transformation in a remarkably short period of time, and now they require time to harmonize and synchronize their expanded spiritual vessels and the newly formed ninth.

It is not surprising, as I myself had been in a state of unconsciousness for many years following my act of killing and consuming the offspring of Llos, becoming a deity of magic. My daughters have also shared this fate. They are fortunate to have me, who is so knowledgeable and wise, by their side.

As soon as I realized that my wives were not going to regain consciousness in the coming days, I conducted diagnostic rituals on them and estimated the approximate duration of their state. Immediately, I began to expedite the process of bringing them back to consciousness and order.

After three weeks of meticulous calculations, a few days of meticulous preparation, my beloveds were encased in diamond coffers, which constitute the most intricate artefacts, focusing an immense amount of energy that serves to provide the essences of my wives with the essential building material and the source of sustenance for the regeneration of their spiritual shells, which, due to their rapid growth, have accumulated numerous minute fractures and fissures.

The vast diamonds that serve as the beds for my girls are imbued with enchantments and carry within them hundreds of spells and charms that regulate the restoration process and provide their treatment. Only through my efforts have I been able to reduce the time required for their awakening from a span of one hundred and fifty years to a mere few.

As a result, I was deprived of the experience of the honeymoon, the satisfaction of carnal desires, and all that remained to me of the joys of family life were the responsibilities of caring for and raising my child.

This is an interesting case: she has lived for at least four years, yet she appears almost the same as when she first awoke. The physiological development of the drow's body lags behind that of a human, and she might seem like a one-and-a-half-year-old, yet her intelligence exceeds that of a five-year-old. The only challenge is getting her to understand why it is necessary for her to learn human languages. She simply cannot comprehend the rationale behind it.. Serpentargo, as a mental language par excellence, offers a more extensive and diverse means of conveying information. This allows for the transmission of thousands of nuanced feelings and emotions that cannot be adequately expressed or replicated through spoken or written language on Earth.

Eventually, I devised a solution to this problem. Although it was still necessary to socialize Fez and introduce her to the outside world, it had to happen sooner rather than later.

One day at a time, I began sending her to the Rock Shelter Nursery, where there was a baby boom in progress. After Vencenzenzo assumed leadership of the church, the witches heaved a sigh of relief, as the acute phase of misunderstandings and conflicts between the Order of the Dragon and the Vatican came to an end.

It was not surprising, then, that when my vassals perceived a brief period of calm and favourable circumstances, they decided that it was the perfect time to continue their family. Hundreds of young girls would provide Fesa with ample opportunities to develop her communication skills and learn to speak human language.

With the exception of me, my wives, and a few other reasonable individuals in Europe, no one else would understand her, except perhaps a few witches.

Indeed, that is an excellent notion!

While not neglecting my intention to introduce my young one to the delight of playing with their peers, I found myself in my own domain, and taking Fesa with me, I proceeded to the Rocky Orphanage.

With the little one in my arms, who greeted each spatial movement with immense delight, we found ourselves in the office of the Commandant of the fortress of Rocky Haven. The infrastructure of the Order's holdings in the realm of magic had expanded significantly. New territories had been developed and converted into arable land, where several magical crops were now cultivated. One such crop was a rare variety of magical cotton, whose seeds we acquired in exchange for a substantial amount of my venom.

In the black market of Europe, controlled by goblins, my venom was sold in small quantities, usually once or twice a year. The price for one milliliter of my venom ranged from fifty thousand galleons. However, to obtain a hundred seeds of this particular plant, we had to provide smugglers from China with three liters of my venom, a substantial quantity.

The exchange was by no means unbalanced. The magical cotton of this particular variety is a national treasure of the ruling imperial dynasty in China. Should the authorities apprehend those who attempt to steal this precious commodity, not only would they be executed, but their entire extended families up to the seventh generation would be put to death.

The value of this cotton lies in the fact that it is the sole magical material that can be used to create ritual robes. Its inherent magical properties significantly enhance the positive effects of rituals, increasing their efficacy by between fifteen and twenty percent, while also mitigating the negative consequences and repercussions associated with failed rituals or errors during their performance.

It is noteworthy that the fabric produced from this material not only possesses remarkable enchanting qualities but also offers a delightful tactile experience, making it an invaluable asset.

For half a century, my subjects have been diligently cultivating this valuable plant, from which we have produced vast quantities of fabric. As a result, the majority of the witches' wardrobe is now comprised of garments crafted from our enchanted cotton. We do not export it to the general market; instead, we exclusively utilize it for our own purposes.

Our Order's financial needs have long been met, with such abundance that we have constructed a third treasury. This does not include the assets stored in the accounts at the dwarf and goblin banks.

I have been a billionaire for quite some time now, but I cannot even estimate the exact amount of my wealth. My fortune exceeds the combined assets of the first hundred wealthiest families in Europe.

My knights have amassed such vast wealth that they possess some of the most rare and unique materials and ingredients, which they unhesitatingly use in their training. Much of what they subsequently discard into the sewers was previously valuable in the form of raw materials. The same cotton, from which most clothing and ammunition are made, appears sacrilegious and wasteful to knowledgeable and intelligent observers, simply because the fabric of this material is incredibly expensive and rarely available.

The cultivation of this particular plant is notoriously difficult, making it a rare commodity. Its cultivation is hindered by stringent requirements for the magical environment and soil necessary for its growth. Moreover, cotton itself is a highly sought-after delicacy, attracting a particularly noxious and resilient species of magical insects. These pests, even more destructive than locusts, swiftly devour the plantations, leaving nothing but desolation in their wake.

These insects, resembling ladybirds but larger and black with blue spots, are exceptionally difficult to eradicate. Any attempt to eliminate them invariably leads to the destruction of the cotton, rendering the soil unsuitable for cultivation.

At most, a newly established plantation may survive for a brief period of a few years before succumbing to infestation. Following this, the plantation becomes inactive for a span of twenty years, lying fallow. Only after this timeframe do the explorers of the parasitic colony cease returning to the site, rendering it once again suitable for the cultivation of cotton until these voracious pests reappear. And thus, the cycle continues.

The witches under my command have devised a method to safeguard the plantation against these creatures. Iolanthe has created a necrotic barrier that remains impenetrable, effectively eliminating representatives of this specific type of insect while allowing other necessary species to pass through freely, ensuring the normal growth and pollination of cotton.

Oh yes, speaking of this land, it seems that Zakhar has his eye on it and even extended his paw to claim it, but his power is not yet sufficient. Now, these lands already bear the scent of Zakhar's presence, but for them to become an inextricable part of his being, they need at least several hundred years, or perhaps even longer, for Zakhar to assimilate into the local reality, overcoming the resistance of the magical realm and seizing all the territories that my vassals have already claimed around the fortress of Rocky Haven.

Upon learning of the situation, my mind immediately turned to Hogwarts, for I now held ownership of the castle. However, upon entering the premises, I soon realised that Zakhar was not the one to handle this task.

Considering the history and significance of Hogwarts in the wizarding world, particularly in the context of Harry Potter fandom, where millions of fans associate Hogwarts with the realm of magic, it becomes clear that the task of eradicating and overcoming the faith of such a vast following is beyond our capabilities. Moreover, it is important to note that Hogwarts, as a sentient and ancient artefact, is beginning to awaken its own consciousness and the birth of its soul. This means that it will become impossible to replicate this process, whether in my own terem in the taiga or on an island.

As a result, my universe now appears as follows. At its core revolves the former underground city of Stlloshh, now a domain of the world. In a short orbit around it, several satellite domains revolve: an island with the sea, a mansion surrounded by a dense taiga forest, and the Gryffindor manor, and, ta-da, the witches' citadel.

My hamster has also counted his vassals among my possessions, and Zachary, in line with my vision, has taken the real estate of the Dragon Order into his own hands. It is, in fact, a strong and well-established system that, for natural reasons, will never split apart. With each year, as the domains converge with the central world, they begin to intermingle, and one day, perhaps in a thousand years, they will become a single whole world.

But Zakhar did not rest on his laurels. Like an octopus, he extended his tentacles of influence and ambition to claim the Rocky Shelter. This shelter was gradually being isolated from the enchanted realm, destined to become an autonomous domain in a few hundred years.

According to Zakhar's meticulous plan, we would bring this domain closer to the core world, establishing a firm connection and gradually drawing it towards the center, assimilating it into our sphere of influence. However, with Hog, our efforts proved futile, as our combined might and the available energy sources were insufficient to convince the enchanted world and its realities that Hogwarts belonged to us.

Upon arriving at the asylum, I sought an audience with the commandant, as she seemed the only person who might be privy to the inner workings of this establishment. My primary concern was to secure a place for the child in the nursery, where she could engage in socialization.

I firmly believed that her early years should be filled with normalcy and happiness, which is unattainable in the absence of peers. How could I, as her sole companion, provide the structure and guidance required for her to navigate the complexities of childhood? Instead, she needed friends her own age, individuals who could provide a level of understanding and intellectual and emotional support commensurate with her own development.

Gloria, the head of Rocky Haven, is a witch who was initiated two and a half centuries ago. She was a squib of the French branch of the Rosier family, and her initiation brought back memories that had been blocked by her grandfather.

After her initiation, the young girl became hysterical, as she not only gained access to magic but also to her memories. This was a result of her grandfather's attempt to protect her from the truth about her heritage. These events reflect the ongoing issues with pureblood politics, where children are often discarded for political gain.

One of the most contentious issues among purebloods is whether squibs should be considered valuable to the clan. While they may face harsh consequences for their existence, such as deprivation of magic or clan curses, they are also seen as valuable due to their ability to be protected by clan magic.

However, many purebloods have lost their ability to think critically and understand the complexities of magic. They fail to see the obvious when it's right in front of them.. And yet, the laws of magic, almost verbatim, converge with the laws of the wild. Ahh...

It transpired that Gloria had been subjected to brutal sexual assault by her father and grandfather when it became evident that she would not become a sorceress. They reasoned that since they were going to cast her out anyway, they might as well sate their baser instincts one last time. Deplorable individuals, indeed!

After she had become a witch and, half a century later, attained the power and mastery of a sorceress, she immediately paid a visit to her family estate, where the main branch of her clan had been completely eradicated. The girl showed no mercy, and with her druidal gift, their demise was agonizing. She infested all her kin with spores of lichen, which grew within their bodies for an entire month, torturing their flesh and ensuring that they could not forget or lose consciousness. Throughout the duration of this process, during which the lichen fed upon their vital fluids, they remained immobile, and Gloria remained by their side, never departing until each of them breathed their final breath.

"Hello, Gloria," I said, introducing the two girls. "And this is my apprentice, Fesalia."

"Greetings, sir," she replied, immediately getting down to business, for everyone knows that I dislike idle individuals and never do anything without purpose or need. And since I am here and before her, it indicates that I require something from her.

I have decided to entrust my little girl to your care, but I need to know who is in charge here and who should I address. So I came directly to you, as you are the one who has the knowledge and authority in this matter.

As Gloria observed the little girl in my arms, she returned the gaze with suspicion and wariness. Meanwhile, I marveled at the child's ability to react so keenly to external attention and her readiness to protect herself. What a remarkable creature!

"Is she a witch?" I asked, puzzled. The question seemed irrelevant, for every member of our race can easily recognize another witch. "She is not human, then. What is she?"

"She is a faerie, closely related to the Sidhe or Alves," the speaker replied. "Why do you ask?"

At our orphanage, children are imbued with a multitude of essential skills from the earliest stages of their development, and it is crucial for me to assess Fesalia's capabilities and aptitudes. The curriculum of instruction and training that children commence in a playful manner from the age of three may prove too demanding for her.

There is no issue with this; she does not in any way fall short of her peers, save for the fact that she progresses at a slower pace. A year equates to three for her, and by the time she reaches the age of forty, she will appear to be thirteen or fourteen years of age. After that, her growth will further decelerate, and she will appear as if she is in her twenties when she is actually at least two centuries old.

It is among the immortals that, having achieved eternal life, retain not only the physical but also the mental processes of maturation as they did at the time of their human existence. This is something that cannot be said of other long-lived races that I am familiar with, whose members do not succumb to old age and whose rates of growth and development deviate significantly from human norms.

Come, I shall escort you to the head of the educational department — oh, there is an entire department here! Well done!

When I was laying the foundations of my future order, I endeavored to instill in the minds of all leaders at the time that if one begins a task, one must carefully consider it, consult with one's comrades, and only then make a decision, for one must do well and do so for the ages. They have likewise approached this matter with great care, and how could I possibly know otherwise? I have been in the citadel and spent approximately seven years among the witches.

It is still uncertain how many setbacks they faced before they established the process of nurturing and educating their younger generation. It is too early to pass judgment, and I have not yet seen how they have fared or what successes they have achieved in this domain.

Gloria, who is responsible for the upbringing of the children, began to explain to me the intricacies of this process. I was embarrassed to have missed such an important aspect of witch life, so I decided to rectify my ignorance by asking her about it.

She began her explanation with great enthusiasm. "In total, there are seventy-nine adults under the supervision of Alicia, head of the education department, who assist her in caring for, educating, and training the children until they reach the age of eleven. Our nursery operates every day, including weekends, as many of the parents are active in our primary field of work and often have to be away from Citadel for extended periods on missions. Consequently, many children must reside in our boarding school until a parent returns."

«Well, I cannot answer that precisely, it is a question for Alicia, but during our last meeting she mentioned more than fifteen hundred children.

Remarkable! I almost whistled in admiration and had an obvious question on the tip of my tongue.

«How does Alicia manage with so many children, with only seventy-nine assistants?»

I received an immediate response.

"I mentioned only the tutors and those who are directly subordinate to her. But with this number of intelligent individuals, many other individuals contribute to the education of our children. It depends on who is currently at the Rocky Orphanage and who can dedicate some of their time to children. Additionally, there are numerous clubs and extracurricular activities run by masters of various arts and crafts who reside and operate here.»

«Right. I should pose more specific questions to Alicia.»

I could have slapped myself in the face — what an oaf I was! I had organised training at the citadel, having crafted and placed artifacts with my illusory duplicates there, but neglected the rock shelter, which was more secure than the citadel. We must remedy this!

Yes, it would be most expedient. Alas, my knowledge of the intricacies of our caregivers' work is not profound or complete. And so we find ourselves here.

In a small meadow adjacent to the forest outside the fortress, there were seventy-six young ones, ranging in age from half a year to a year, all watching the girl intently, along with a few adults. Meanwhile, she was speaking:

"Whoever finds my second glove first shall receive a prize," she declared, and so she demonstrated, producing a large lollipop in the shape of a squirrel on a stick. She repeated her words, so to speak, in the mental sphere, and as soon as they were uttered, the children, like disturbed ants in an ant-hill, began to scurry about the clearing in pursuit of the missing glove.

And they did not act thoughtlessly, but rather with great skill, employing a variety of methods and techniques in their search. I observed several of the gifted children seeking the glove, tracing the mental trail Alicia had left behind. Some of them relied on their acute sense of smell like animals, while others utilized their energy vision, staring intently at the glove in Alicia's hand for an extended period, scanning the surroundings for any trace of the same signature.

The gloves were crafted from the skin of a magical creature possessing a strong affinity for darkness, making them highly resilient. However, there was a victor, or rather, a victoress, and upon realizing how she had discovered the second glove, I was astounded. The young child, barely three years of age, had delved into the infosphere — a realm I myself rarely venture into without taking numerous precautions.. This young scamp proceeded there with the air of a proprietress, as though she were delving into her own coffers, and having rummaged through everything therein, without receiving a cuff or a kick in the rear, extracted the information she sought, and within a few moments, discovered what she was after!

It is difficult to predict what the young girl will be capable of as she grows and fully masters her unique gift. Upon observing her spiritual essence, I instantly recognized her lineage, for she is the granddaughter of Iolanthe and Marcus, bearing a powerful talent for necromancy.

The most remarkable aspect of her gift is a sophisticated spiritual organ that serves as an advanced interface for interacting with the informational realm. Even a cursory glance at this organ reveals its immense potential, making it clear that it holds countless possibilities for application.

In the future, with the proper training and cultivation, this girl will be able to delve deep into the memories and essence of anything that comes into her field of vision. This formidable gift, both formidable and dangerous in skilled hands, finds utility not only in everyday life but also in combat situations. It will allow her to anticipate failure and identify the weaknesses of her adversaries, granting her the advantage in any confrontation.

And only I desired to address Alicia and Gloria, for I was captivated by a surge of mental elation that could not be attributed to the witches, for the range of emotional fluctuation was characteristic of an animal, emanating from the forest not far from the boundary with the meadow where we were situated. As I redirected my attention towards that region of space, I winced for the umpteenth time that day.

"Gloria," I inquired, "is it customary for three of our offspring to engage in play with a manticore and the other two to interact with its kittens at this very moment in the woods just a few paces inland from our meadow?"

It became immediately clear to me that the children were not considered food by Manticore, who joyfully participated in the play. One of the pranksters sat on the neck of a predator of the XXXXX class of danger — the highest class accepted by the MCM. The other two clung to its tail with their hands, using the deadly sting as a swing.

Nearby, two older girls played with the kittens of this predator, against whom only a master of magic could go out without risking his life. The skin of the predator is impervious to average spells, and its excellent camouflage abilities are enhanced by its innate gift of distraction. Its keen vision, hearing, and sense of smell are multiplied by incredible strength and speed, making it a formidable opponent in the forest.. Let us consider the fact that she effortlessly pierces magical defenses with her talons and can only be withstood by a stationary fortified shield, in addition to her venom, which only slightly уступает that of young basilisks. For 99% of wizards in Europe, she is a formidable adversary! However, the young ones seem to have forgotten this.

"Do you know of them?"

Seeing the perplexity in my gaze, I began to enlighten him. Before that, however, I had to bring Feza back to earth, for she was eager to establish contact with another intelligent being like herself. The tale of the manticore did not surprise me, but it astonished me. Manticores are not meant to be tamed. My vassals, however, did not tame them; rather, they befriended them, turning their small enclave into natural allies.

Two centuries ago, the sentinels of Rocky Haven, while traversing the environs of the fortification, encountered an emaciated manticore in a secluded gully. The beast, devoid of strength to engage in combat or rise, lay prostrate, having sustained grievous wounds and a fractured hind leg. It was evident that it had been embroiled in a fierce struggle.

It so happened that within the ranks of the fortress guard, there was a man endowed with the gift of mental communication with animals, akin to the ancient Roman concept of "Lords of Beasts". This individual managed to persuade the suffering predator to allow them to provide assistance, not only to herself but also to her offspring, who lay nearby, equally depleted from prolonged hunger.

The feline mother and her kittens were subsequently escorted to the citadel, where they received care, and once their condition improved, they were set free.

After a dozen years, at the perimeter of the citadel, five manticores appeared, and these were the number of kittens that the rescued and wounded cat had given birth to. These manticores allowed the witches to approach without any problems and even played games with them, mimicking ambush attacks and then fleeing.

Over the course of several generations, the manticores whose kittens perceived the witches without aggression became avid visitors to our territories. This greatly contributed to the overall security of our borders and almost eliminated the risk of dangerous animals infiltrating the fortress.

Several pride of manticores have settled along the boundary of our territories, periodically visiting the fortress. All females with their kittens move under the walls of the rocky shelter during the maturation period of the young manticores. This is the most secure location for many thousands of kilometers around.

There are already several instances of witches having manticores as their familiars.

As I listened to this captivating narrative, my gaze shifted to Fesa, who, incidentally, had already found herself a companion, a fellow contestant and granddaughter of Iolanthe. Together, they confronted the youngster who attempted to pilfer their shared lollipop, having previously savored it in their own mouths.

Indeed, I was wise to bring this one here.