Sanctuary.

"And what have you, warrior, come to our threshold with?" was the query from Chernomor.

How should I respond? I would like to know what I have come for and to whom. But there is no time for prolonged contemplation. After all, the Highest has taken control of all the multidimensional space surrounding me, and now my destiny seemingly depends solely on my response.

"In peace!"

I distinctly realized that the archmage's eyes were now mockingly smiling at my words. Yes, peace! Of course! I am now dressed in my new armor; in my right hand I hold a sword; my left hand is adorned with a battle chain; and my staff has already appeared in the physical world, frozen on the border between my immaterial aura and the material embodiment of reality — a sight that Chernomor, my terrifying uncle, cannot escape. The words about peace do not match my appearance or my mood, which seeks to sell my life at a higher price.

Then, if you have come to us in good faith, be our guest!

Upon his words, a gateway opened on the isle I had recently traversed, which exuded an aura of enchantment and the presence of numerous deities, causing me to blush even further as I realised that if the company of thirty-three archimages and the high magus's regent standing before me were flowers, then the berry bushes awaited me on the other side of the gate.

Oh my! I had no alternative after his invitation, lest I wish to offend them and prolong my stay. No refusal of the offer was possible. The very essence of hospitality and its traditions! Why, indeed, had I ventured here? I should have remained in my own domain, keeping my nose out of others' affairs, continuing to believe myself superior to the mountains. But now what?

Ahhh! Regrets are futile now.

"I was not!" I murmured softly, my words lost in the cacophony created by the ripples emanating from the nexus between Yavi's realm and the divine enigmas that surged forth from the portal. With these words, I stepped into the dimensional rift, followed closely by my new companions, who seemed to be breathing down my neck.

"Welcome to the Kapishche, esteemed Svyatozar!"

A wave of relief washed over me. Whoever these magical beings were and to what culture they belonged, they would not slay me on sight if they acknowledged me as a visitor. This thought flitted through my mind as I surveyed the awe-inspiring landscape of this new world.

We arrived at a small clearing on the summit of a gentle hill. From my vantage point, I could gaze upon a rolling forest steppe, each hillock adorned with structures of the most peculiar and diverse shapes and forms. Yet, each building bore a common ancestry, and it is safe to assert that they all hailed from the same civilization — the Slavic civilization!

"My name is Velimir, and I stand as the guardian of the crossroads between Yav, Nav, and Prav," I announced, "alongside my thirty-three sons, here at Kapisch."

What a remarkable man he was, this Velimir! His lineage was blessed with thirty-three offspring. His fortune would have surpassed that of my friend from a bygone world, who bore six children but all of whom were daughters. He would not relent until he had an heir, and then he would stop. I wonder what became of him, but I passed away in that world before I could witness my joyous friend emerge from the maternity ward with a son in his arms.

Come, I shall escort you to the abode of the Wise One. She is akin to yourself; let her welcome the first visitor from our kind in seven hundred years, he stroked his beard.

It was impossible to discern whether he was more delighted by my arrival in their realm or by the disarray of my mind — I felt as though I had just been struck by a sack of dust. I had certainly never heard of a place called Kapishche, but it was straightforward to connect the words «Yav», «Nav», «Prav» and the landscapes around me, filled with the heritage of Russian land and its Slavic pantheon.

On the hilltop, I could already sense the presence of a dozen deities at this crossroads of the border world, which made me deeply uneasy!

The sons of Velimir remained on the hill where we appeared, while I followed the Elder One, who set foot on a barely discernible path and began to descend. As we proceeded, I had to navigate through brambles that scratched my armor as I pushed through them.

As soon as Velimir and I parted ways, and I found myself in an open space where I could survey my surroundings, I realized that we were no longer standing at the foot of the slope from which we had begun our journey. Instead, we were in a shallow depression, facing a looming rocky hill that towered even higher than the one we had previously ascended.

This hill differed from the previous one in that it appeared almost devoid of vegetation, giving the impression of being a mound constructed from a multitude of stones no larger than a human head. My foot accidentally stepped on one of these stones, and a snake swiftly emerged from beneath it, hissing menacingly at me, "Get away! I will bite you!"

I responded in Parseltongue, speaking soothingly to the creature, "Be calm, little one. I will not harm you."

"Hissing? Are you perhaps seeking the landlady's attention? I shall apprise her of your presence!" she scuttled back into the nook between the boulders, vanishing from my sight.

Velemir, undeterred by my exchange with the serpent, confidently ascended the incline, not once looking in our direction. I, in turn, had no option but to follow. Within ten minutes we stood before a magnificent structure, its walls adorned with intricate embellishments, the thatched roof boasting a ridge carved in the shape of an Uroboros — a serpent with two heads, symbolizing infinity.

The intricate designs and ornaments adorning this architectural masterpiece seemed to be intricately intertwined with the image of serpents. What mysteries did this wise one conceal within its walls?

The house exuded no trace of magic or other mysterious energies, which only served to heighten the unease. As one who is inherently suspicious of such things, I wondered what they might portend.

"Go, Svyatozar," Velimir's voice interrupted my contemplation of the drawings, "you must go to the house and knock on the door. I must go!"

I had intended to inquire about the occupants of the house, but Velimir had already departed. Once again, I had no option but to obey. I could not escape this realm alone, for it was surrounded by barriers I could not breach. Thus, I would knock on the door and seek answers directly from the owner of this magnificent dwelling.

The hill in question was devoid of verdant vegetation, its landscape consisting primarily of piles of rocks and sparse patches of withered grass. However, this did not evoke a sense of despondency; rather, the scene and emotional ambiance evoked a feeling of delightful nostalgia for hazy memories from my past, providing me with a sense of peace and tranquility. It was akin to a moment of déjà vu, further fueling my paranoia, as these feelings and emotions seemed incongruous in the present moment. There was no possibility of experiencing them in a state of rationality when I was so disorganized!

Ah, time to ascend the steps and knock on the door. Just as I raised my hand to strike the door, it swung open, beckoning me inside.

"Hail!" I could think of nothing better to capture attention after waiting for a few moments in solitude. As I crossed the threshold, I entered a spacious chamber with a number of large and smaller caskets arrayed against each wall. To the left and right, long and broad tables adorned with benches were positioned, each capable of seating up to twenty individuals with ease.

"And hail to you, kind sir!" This was spoken by a maiden of extraordinary beauty, attired in accordance with all the tenets of Old Slavic fashion, adorned in a kokoshnik embellished with precious stones, with emeralds, amber, and jasper predominating. An intriguing selection and combination of gems, if we were to consider their mystical significance — flashed through one of my streams of consciousness. The emerald — a symbol of conflict resolution and negativity subjugation. The amber — a talisman against malevolence. The jasper — the stone of eternal vitality.

She was attired in a magnificent dark green sundress, the fabric of which, if my eyes deceive me not, was woven from nettle, paired with a brighter green apron. Her waist was cinched with a precious jade and bone belt, adorned with amulets, mirroring the same assortment of precious stones adorning her kokoshnik.

Her appearance was truly exotic. Her hair, concealed beneath the kokoshnik's veil, remained unseen, but judging by her brows, they appeared to be sandy-brown in hue. Her complexion was golden, her face was symmetrical, and her cheeks were flushed, not from shyness or any other emotional response, but rather a natural state of being. Her lips were scarlet, like berries, her brows were high and predatory, her eyes were incredibly wise, and they were the same color as my own basilisk eyes — toxic yellow with elongated, serpentine irises!

The moment our eyes locked, my instincts cried out that I faced a predator beyond my capabilities. It was like a mouse before a snake, for I sensed she could crush me without remorse, and I found no strength within her. In her presence, I felt hollow!

Summoning my courage and suppressing my terror, I endeavored to behave in such a manner that would not displease this ancient faerie, this goddess, whoever she might be.

"Greetings, most exquisite!" I said, "I am Svyatozar Zmiev, a traveler fortunate enough to find myself at your door and to be your guest."

Upon hearing my words, she erupted in laughter, sweet as a spring rain, with the tinkling of bells. "Clever boy!" she replied, her tone kind as a grandmother's to her mischievous grandchild, cajoling them with childish wiles to open the jar of raspberry preserves. "Drink from my well."

But my mind, alas, interpreted her words in a different way, and my imagination was already creating images of me «quenching my thirst» and «drinking from her well». Good heavens!!! Out of my mind, images of our naked bodies entwined!

If before I had heard her enchanting laugh, which I considered the most beautiful in the world, now it was even more charming and contagious, and I stood there like a simpleton enraptured by the allure of the siren.

«Oh, you made me laugh, my dear, you imp!» I said. «Let us sit down at the table and continue our conversation.»

And I, like an errant child, did not know where to direct my gaze. I felt shame and embarrassment, and at the same time, fear — I was an open book to her! How could I possibly speak to her? I had never been in such a predicament before!

Once we were seated at the table, a variety of dishes appeared on the cloth — baked and roasted meats, sturgeon, and a plethora of natural offerings, accompanied by an abundance of nuts, fruits, apples, and pears.

"Help yourself, do not deny yourself anything," she offered, gesturing around the table. Realizing that I needed more information, she continued, "Or ask your questions."

My first question, my primary concern, was, "Where am I?"

"You are at the boundary of worlds, the final place that connects to the earth and embodies the power of Slavic deities," she replied. However, sensing my need for more elucidation, she elaborated further.

A millennium prior to the advent of the belief in the deity of the dead, which is clearly associated with the Christian faith, our Slavic deities, whose progeny and bloodline bore the glory, departed to other realms. However, their direct legacy and descendants remained either on Earth or in the Kapishche, which served as the gateway from Earth to the domains of each deity and back.

I, as the daughter of Lizard, the god and ruler of the underworld and a mortal sorceress, am a testament to this. Our parents, whose blood and blessings flowed through our veins, were unable to take us with them for various reasons. Some chose not to leave their native lands after their parents' departure. Others were abandoned. And some were not yet capable of traversing to another realm.

Our worlds are akin to clusters of rowanberries on a branch, with adjacent berries representing adjacent realms where even mortal magicians can move. However, to leap to another cluster of connected realms, one must possess the status of a god.. By that time, I had already attained divine status, but I was unwilling to abandon my loved ones, who remained behind and had no means to follow me. Over time, the glory, seeing no response from their ancestral deities, began to shift towards other pantheons and beliefs.

The very absence of deities, coupled with the loss of faith and the influx of earthly energy, effectively closed off the domains of the gods. The Kapisha remained, for in that time there were many descendants of deities who either had migrated or remained within this branch of the multiverse.

Furthermore, Orthodoxy arrived, bringing with it the betrayal of a descendant of Hurrik, who had the right to govern the Russian lands, yet refused to believe in the very essence that flowed through his veins. He ultimately severed our connection to the fabric of the Earthly universe, rendering the path to the created realm of Earth, its primordial foundation, inaccessible to us.. Our influence in that region currently extends no further than a hundred versts from Lake Ladoga, which serves as the sole thread connecting the world to the Kapishche, leading back to us. Should we venture any further from the lake, the universe seems to push us away.

"Khrurik was Rurik," I inquired, "and his descendant was Vladimir. What right did he possess to speak for all the Slavs and claim ownership over the land of the Rus?" I couldn't resist posing this question after a moment of reflection.

Yes, Rurik and Vladimir, both of them. And they had the right to do so, for they were direct, senior in the line of succession to the throne, and recognized by their father, a descendant of Svarog. They were put in charge of all the descendants of the Slavs.

And anticipating your question, I must say that the Scandinavians also descend from the Slavic people. Two thousand years before Joshua's birth, they left our ancestral lands in search of new territories with harsh conditions. The peninsula they settled on was later called Scandinavia. Throughout the history of this branch of our people, they assimilated the blood of many Germanic tribes. Their language changed, but their core beliefs remained the same. Odin is Svarog for them, Thor is Perun, and Hel is Mara or Morena.

When Vladimir renounced his own bloodline, denying the existence of his ancestors, a curse of madness and fratricide fell upon his entire lineage. They, without hesitation, turned on each other with great pleasure.. We, the Slavs, arrived on this earth seventy thousand years after our gods, and our pantheon is unique in that it did not originate from this world, and its deities attained their divine status prior to the existence of humankind.

Yes, indeed, Mikhalych. But I grew increasingly uneasy with her verbose speech, never forgetting for a moment that I was conversing with the daughter of the malevolent deity of the Slavic pantheon, who embodied all serpents, dragons, and deception. There was clearly a purpose to her words.

"It was after Vladimir embraced Christianity and began to destroy our sacred temples that we lost our place on this earth," she said, her voice clear and unmistakable. "And you, Svyatozar, are fortunate that your curiosity brought you to me, for I am the sole one who can empower you as a High Magician and guide you towards becoming a true god."

My displeasure with her narrative was growing steadily. I hoped I was not about to embark on a challenging quest.

"But I am not going to assist you gratis. I have a substantial debt on this earth, and only if you aid me in paying it off will I provide you with the means to advance to the next phase of existence!" — and no, I must.

"What am I to do?"

I was fully cognizant that if I did not make a commitment, I would not leave this place alive. I had just broken free from the tenuous leash of the Unified Egregor, only to find myself facing an adamantine collar and chain being placed around my neck by those on the earth. How delightful!

"You owe me a favor to the master of the Siberian wilderness that stretches from the lands of Christianity to the Ural Mountains."

Well, at least I am not venturing into the grey realms of Morena's domain, but the situation is still unpleasant. The Lord of the Woods is a leshy, an ancient spirit with such a vast domain in the form of forests that serve as the source of his power. One would expect him to have become a full-fledged deity by now. His domain encompasses the forests of western and central Russia, as well as western Siberia — an astonishing power indeed! Yes, he could bend me, along with Velemir and his sons, into a ram's horn without breaking a sweat. My word! And all this because the Slavic gods have long since passed away, leaving him to seize control of all the threads of power within his realm. Why has he not crossed the Ural Mountains?

I will delve deeper into this matter, but what compels this leshy to stop at the Ural Stones and not expand his influence beyond them?

There is undoubtedly a rationale behind this. As long as we have access to a wellspring of knowledge, it is our duty to tap into it. Such knowledge would be of use to me as well. I had aspirations to traverse those lands.

The Lady of the Ural Stone, my sister, is a deity.

However, I was not content with this response. Despite the fact that her tone and phonetic expression remained unchanged, her voice still possessed a hypnotic quality — my intuition informed me that she harbored feelings of either indifference or even hostility towards her sibling. There was clearly something she was concealing, and since she desired my presence, she could afford to be somewhat haughty. Debts among deities are a delicate matter. Once a god fails to honor an obligation owed to another deity, the latter begins to lose power, which flows to the former. And if she has not been able to depart the Sanctuary in eight hundred years, unless she is lying, it suggests that the Forest Spirit has been siphoning her power for at least eight centuries.

My younger sibling, Valisa, has managed to remain on this earth thanks to the support of her husband, who is a demigod of divine rank by birth — Koschei. Mind you, I must caution you: it would be wise not to venture into my sister's realm, which spans from the Ural Mountains to eastern Siberia. There, her husband reigns, the offspring of Chernobog, and a mortal medium who, at the time of Koschei's birth, embodied the spirit of Morena.

I am speechless! I had the desire to explore those lands and absorb the wisdom of the local indigenous peoples. After reading the translated diary of an ancient Sumerian Archimagus who had journeyed there in Morgana's library, I was filled with curiosity.

All Archimages, both in those times and now, are known for their arrogance and inflated egos. The ancient magician recounted how his most prudent decision was not to reveal his true nature to the shamans he encountered in northeastern Siberia. Instead, he succumbed to their hospitality and accepted their invitation, displaying a sense of respect. He was later filled with self-congratulation for his capricious decision not to assert his power and instead choose a peaceful approach, refraining from seeking knowledge through force.

His confidence in his own fortitude was swiftly extinguished. This occurred when the elderly shaman, the patriarch of the tribe who had welcomed him into their midst, invoked the Supreme Fire Deity, a being many times more powerful than the Archmage. The purpose of this summoning was merely to ignite a flame, brew a pot of herbal tea for their guest, and prepare a celebratory meal.

The Archmage's domain was the element of Water, and in the absence of any significant bodies of water nearby, he was no match for the formidable Supreme Spirit of Fire, an astral deity that embodied the essence of its element.

Fortunately, Vasilisa's timely intervention saved the day, and had it not been for the obligations she had imposed upon me, including the urgent need to seek out the Ancient Spirit of the Forest, things would have turned out quite well. "Tell me, Vasilisa," I inquired, "how can I locate this forest spirit? Without his cooperation, there is no way I will be able to find him."

Although I was keen to exploit to the fullest extent such a treasure trove of fascinating information as Vasilisa, and to enquire of her about everything that piqued my curiosity, be it her magic or the history of this realm, equally compelling was my desire to distance myself from her.

For the first time in my life, I found myself in a situation where I was being forced to do something that held no interest for me. It required great effort and concentration on my part to conceal these thoughts from her, even in the secondary streams of my consciousness.

I cannot say how she managed to circumvent my mental barriers, but from our brief exchange, it seemed that she could only detect the thoughts in my primary stream. In that stream, I appeared to her as a drooling fool, enchanted and enthralled by her beauty, struggling to maintain my composure and restrain myself from pouncing on the goddess who consumed my every thought.

My true desires and thoughts were centered on lashing her with my anti-demon chain, flaying her flesh, and pouring acid onto her exposed nerves and muscles. She did not need to witness such thoughts, though I truly desired to strangle her!

"It is well, my dear. I shall exact my retribution. Fortunately, I was able to swiftly overcome her spell, whose nature I was unable to determine. There was no impact on my mental faculties or sensual spirit, nor were there any extraneous impurities in the air, food or drink that might have such an influence on me. Her power extends only to my primary stream of consciousness. As I have long since been accustomed to thinking in multiple streams, of which I currently possess seven, a couple of which duplicate one another, monitoring my state and detecting any foreign influences upon me. I have detected discrepancies in my actions and thought patterns from my usual pattern.

"I shall open a portal to my ancient sanctum. Once you are there, it shall manifest. Have no fear on that account," the serpent murmured modestly. "Now, let us turn our attention to the matter of your reward."

Yes, I had to deviate from my usual persona slightly. But she is aware of my unhuman nature; she herself is a serpent. And serpents do not merely twitch, so this is all within the parameters of my intended behavior.

"If you succeed and settle my debt with Lesch, I will give you one of my two serpent apples. They are of immense value!"

It was the first time I had heard of such a fruit. She, not perceiving the comprehension in my eyes, hastened to explain:

"These apples grew in the netherworld, in my father's garden, which he cultivated solely for his own use. After consuming such an apple, an ordinary serpent transformed into the Gorynych Snake, following which my father stationed it as a sentinel at the gateway to his realm."

In Hellenic mythology, Cerberus is positioned as the guardian of the gates of Tartarus, while in Slavic folklore, this role is fulfilled by the part-time Snake-Gorynych. How amusing!

"Are you certain that consuming this apple will enhance my strength favorably?"

Certainly, it is either foolish or impudent to express one's doubts to a deity, but I dared to do so and took advantage of the opportunity.

"Yes! And since your true essence is that of a serpent, this will have the greatest impact on you, granting you immediate divine power."

She extolled it and urged me to hasten to Leshem's presence!

Power is undoubtedly beneficial. However, power without knowledge becomes meaningless. When I fulfill my promise and repay your debt to Leshem along with the apple, in addition, I seek to acquire your expertise in Slavic sorcery, which I believe you possess — I have decided to engage in this game and demand the utmost I can conceive. I am uncertain of what valuable artifacts she may possess, and I cannot imagine anything more precious than knowledge. I may be able to obtain power on my own, but knowledge remains elusive.

"Very well!" she granted her consent swiftly and effortlessly. A pact!

A pact!

As soon as I had confirmed the terms and conditions mentioned above, we entered into a magical contract that was sanctioned by the world. However, it is still of little value, for she can easily nullify or circumvent it. I must seek refuge, bide my time, accumulate strength, and then only commence the fulfilment of the contract. Yet I have a hunch that no one will grant me the respite.

The pact between us was forged with such simplicity, devoid of any oaths, for one of the parties was a divine entity, whose very words shape reality and influence the world, particularly here, at the final bastion of the Slavic pantheon.

And only I was seated at the table in the chamber with Vasilisa, when I became aware of the fact that I was perched upon a stump in a forest clearing. Rising to my feet and surveying my surroundings, I discerned that there had once been a temple in this very place, and the stump upon which I sat was the remnant of an idol that had been felled in times long forgotten. The idol itself was completely overgrown with moss, fungi, and vegetation sprouting from it.

Upon realizing that I had been duped, I was finally able to regain my composure and breathe freely once more.

Alas, I had fallen prey to her deception. She had enlisted me in a venture that did not bode well for my survival. The promise of riches and the knowledge of magic she offered was too enticing, leaving me with no choice but to accept her terms. What infuriates me most is my own helplessness. I could not refuse the "honor" of assisting this so-called goddess. However, I cannot dwell on my frustration for long, nor allow my thoughts to turn violent.

**Contract!** Three times ha! Even if I were to do Leshem the favour of relieving Vasilisa of her debt and fulfilling my end of the agreement, it would not bind her to honour her side and repay me. In her presence, even in the secondary currents of my consciousness, I feared to broach the memory of it, aware that it would cost her naught to renege on her word.

She is a deity, twisting and bending reality on a plane far beyond my reach, and there is no manner in which I, standing beneath her in the hierarchy of the cosmic order, could defend the terms of our pact before the world. The might of the powerful! Alas. Moreover, the oath was sworn by an appendage of the Slavic pantheon, and I am of the earth; she could cast me aside with impunity!

"Heh," I said, distracted by a voice from below. "If it isn't yet another mortal."

Gazing at my feet, I beheld a curious sight — a grandfather of a peculiar sort, reminiscent of a character from a Soviet cartoon. His appearance was comically absurd! Instead of a cap, he wore a vast grebe hat; his skin resembled birch bark; his nose was a branch, and where eyes should be, twin green lights shone. While this spectacle might have been amusing, had it not been for the fact that I perceived more than just physical reality. A forest, stretching from the lands of Novgorod to the Urals, spoke to me in this form. Its power was astounding, beyond my capacity to fully comprehend. My skin prickled with goosebumps from the mere sight of it, even without any manifestation of its power.

"You are peculiar," it began to circle me, scrutinizing me. "A serpent, but not of our kind, yet still a spirit, glorious!" It whispered under its breath, "Strange, strange."

«I come from Vasilisa in fulfilment of my duty to you, dearest one», he said, nodding his head and biting and chewing on his wooden lips like an elderly man, from which small slivers began to fall.

«I know who you are. But you should not have been involved, my boy. I am sorry, but I will not let that woman go!»

As I had suspected, he was furious with Vasilisa. The forest rumbled and cracked for miles around him as if a violent storm had broken out, though the air barely moved and there was little wind. However, it lasted only for a few moments, for he swiftly brought his anger under control.

"Follow me," he said, turning to me, and began to make his way towards the thicket along an animal trail, taking short hops. His movements brought to mind moments from the Super Mario game, with its jumping mushrooms with red caps. This old mushroom bore a striking resemblance to those, yet I had always been able to overcome it on my own. Alas, this was not a video game, nor did I have allies to call upon to join me in a raid against a foe of such magnitude that even multiple lesser deities would find themselves at a disadvantage on its territory.

Leshy was unmistakably guiding me along a path of his own choosing. With my sense of space, I felt as if each step I took behind Leshay transported me dozens of kilometers. There was no disturbance of space or matter; there were no ripples of mystical energy, and all around me was an ordinary forest.

After sixty-five paces and a spatial displacement of almost a thousand kilometers from my starting point, we emerged in a clearing half a kilometer in diameter, at the center of which lay a source of magic so powerful that it was ten, if not a hundred times greater than that of Hogwarts. I had never seen, let alone heard of, such a source before. Its output of mana could have shielded Albion in an impenetrable defense, and there still would have been surplus energy remaining. My God!

I examined it with my keen vision, fearful of missing something, and marveled at the beauty of the enchantments that ensnared it, all their power focused on a massive stone ring resting on the ground, resembling a celestial gateway. This intricate array of arcane enchantments was designed to secure the portal, ensuring that nothing could escape.

"Yes, Svarog was a master of his craft. What you see before you is the product of his genius!" Leshe's words snapped me out of my reverie, words that I had already all but forgotten.

"And where does this gateway lead?" A premonition of impending doom assailed me, and it seemed to emanate from this very gateway, the very sight of which sent a shiver down my spine akin to that of a skydiver without a parachute.

I cannot say for certain. Fifty and a few thousand years ago — aha, by "a few" I mean a span encompassing several of my lifetimes — a fissure opened in my forest, emanating an aura of uncanny dread. I hastened to this place, and then I went to Svarog and Perun. Without bothering to investigate what lay beyond the rift, they sealed it with a seal bound to the local wellspring of magic. My task was to guard the seal and keep others from entering.

But the gods have departed, and in their absence, their divine enchantments have faded, leaving behind only those linked to the source. Thus far, these enchantments continue to function, but something beyond the seal is seeking to breach it and enter our world.

That is most unfortunate. The deities were too frightened to venture within, having sealed the issue, they are gone, yet the problem persists! And now, one curious mortal, as I presume (for what is there to presume — it is certain), must venture into the maw of the dragon to confront those who dwell on the other side of the gateway. Truly, this is most vexing!

"Did Svarog and Perun not divulge any information regarding what may lie beyond?" you inquire. "Surely, they must have had some insight?"

"When the portal was still unstable and in its infancy," I recall Svarog's words, "he described it as reeking of Primordial Chaos! Upon hearing this, I was left with a blank canvas before my mind's eye! What on earth is chaos? And what is primordial chaos?!"

Even deities cannot exist within it without consequence; it dissolves all matter and energy like a potent acid, making them a part of it. Only Chaos gods and similar chthonic beings can exist within it, having been born from it and belonging to it. However, I am not a god, nor even remotely comparable to the denizens of the interdimensional realm, who are monstrous creatures whose arrival in this world signifies the destruction of reality and its dissolution into chaos.

Nonetheless, there is no need for alarm; the time has not yet come. I must first ascertain precisely what actions are required of me.

"And what must I do to discharge Vasilisa's obligation to you, esteemed one?" I inquired. "Simply erect a fence or cordon off the portal with cautionary tape, accompanied by signs stating 'Beware, she will kill you.'"

"You must traverse the portal and confront those who are tearing into our reality from beyond!" the log decreed. Had I been Papa Carlo, I would have fashioned you into Pinocchio. You would be as foolish and worthless, and I would be free to depart.

Vasilisa and I did not agree on a timeline, and I could grow stronger, acquire more knowledge, and then we could contemplate the issue. Alas, what now?

Seeing the despair in my gaze, he continued.

— You, my dear fellow, are a good man, but Vasilisa is a woman who should have met with her sister and husband, and she is a vile creature who has caused me much trouble in the past. She even contemplated fleeing from this world after Svarog and other deities. If she had done so, our agreement with her would have been nullified, as this world would not have been able to reach her in the afterlife and compel her to uphold her obligations. However, the entity miscalculated, and we did not take her with us.

I sympathize with you, but you should not have gone to her with the intention of using yourself as a bargaining chip to extend the time limit. This is the fifth time she has come to me seeking to settle our arrangement. Yes, you are correct in your assumption. I have sent them all through the portal, and none of them have returned.

Alas, I am Svyatozar Zmiev, the one who consumed the Dark Lord himself, Salazar Slytherin, taking upon myself all his powers and titles. I, the Light Lord, am the reader, the reaper, and the tinkerer. I am the Multicoloured Mage, still ruling the church, with two beautiful young ladies waiting for me.

I am a seven-hundred-year-old man of deceitful appearance, the wet dream of young girls from the age of twelve and above, at the mere sight of whom, Korean and Chinese cultivators smoke nervously in the background, fearing to meet my gaze again, realising their insignificance before me.

Calm, only calm. A brief self-hypnosis session, a positive outlook on the future, an external view of myself and my accomplishments, and now faith in myself has been restored. How can my story end in such a place, where for hundreds of miles around there are only squirrels and bears?

"Of course, I'll go to the portal, but you know, I'm a third party here and the entire burden of solving this problem lies on my shoulders. Vasilisa has already promised me something, but what will you offer me when I tackle the portal?"

My words caused the unfortunate man to stare at me in confusion, as if he had lost touch with reality. I waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention.

"Oh, grandpa, are you there?" I asked.

The Leshy responded with a dumbfounded grunt.

Ha-ha-ha-ha, there we go! My spirits lifted, and a cunning grin spread across my face, reminiscent of Ichimaru Gin's style.

"Well, there is not much I can take from you," I said with a disappointed sigh, which caused Leshy to quack in surprise. "But wait, there is something! The source!"

He is now using all his power to maintain the barrier. Once I eliminate the threat from the other side, there will be no need for it. So he will be my payment for solving your problem. If I do not succeed, the consequences of a breakthrough will become acute, and they will be yours alone. Everyone will be happy and no one will lose anything.

"Are you crazy? What do you mean no one loses anything? I will lose Vasilisa's debt and the source!" he exclaimed, finally overcome with indignation.

"Well, Vasilisa," I said, "as far as I can see, you manage time and again to obtain a deferral of payment of the fine for non-compliance with the terms of the agreement by sending competent individuals to fulfill it, so, in any case, you have nothing to lose from the fact that the debt has not been closed yet, is that correct?"

After receiving a nod and an expression of displeasure, I continued, "And the issue with the portal remains unresolved. As long as the barrier exists and can hold back something from the other side, you cannot access the source. Is that not so?"

Another helpless nod followed, and I pressed on, "Well, if I settle Vasilisa's debt, at the very least, you will have lost the threat posed by the portal and gain such a delightful neighbor as me!"

At this point, he looked at me with profound doubt. Then, with a heavy sigh, he relented.

"Contract it is! The source shall be yours, provided you can deal with whatever is trying to escape from there. My word on it!"

"A pact, grandpa!" I exclaimed, not quite sure how I had arrived at such a form of address.

"Ha ha ha, good luck, my boy! When you solve the problem, come back out," he replied, with not a hint of belief in my abilities. "I'll show them all — you, me, and that log! I'll do it, and then I'll charge you and that snake!"