The General wasn’t sure that he would be able to defeat Primus in his present condition. The way he’d dealt with Boreas had clearly demonstrated the current level of the usurper’s power. He was much stronger than the Patriarch of the sect had been.
“You understand that I’m not going to endure being locked up forever?” Hadjar asked meaningfully.
Nero looked at his friend and the warriors behind him. The Prince was no fool. He knew it was impossible to keep the Mad General under lock and key. In the whole Kingdom, there were only a few people capable of restraining him. All of them, ironically, lived in the Palace.
“Don’t worry, Hadj,” Nero assured his friend. “This is only a temporary measure. Elaine and I will explain everything to our father. He is sometimes stupid and stubborn, but rarely unfair.”
Hadjar could’ve argued against the latter, but didn’t. The time for that would come soon enough...
Nodding to his friend, he headed toward his chambers. The detachment of legionnaires followed him. The aristocrats looked at him with hatred. Hadjar didn’t care at all. He was now eager to get to his chambers as soon as possible. The events of the past week had convinced him that it would be worthwhile to try a breakthrough to the next stage. Too long had Hadjar been at the Transformation of the Mortal Shell Stage. ‘Too long’ was just his subjective assessment, mind you. For an ordinary practitioner from such a backwater like Lidus, the Transformation Stage was almost an unattainable dream. If they even reached it, they would spend almost half a century at that very stage before moving on. Hadjar had reached it only a year ago. Now, even without the help of the neural network, he felt how much his body had changed. He’d become stronger, tougher, faster, even his Bodily Rivers (Meridians), along which the energy of the world flowed, had expanded.
Accompanied by the legionnaires, Hadjar reached his room. The same open spaces, the walls decorated with gold and silver, the huge bed and, surprisingly, the intact mirror awaited him there. Slamming the door in the soldiers’ faces, Hadjar turned to a small mound of clothes and sheets.
“How long are you going to sulk at me?” The smiling General asked.
The white muzzle with a black nose poked out from beneath the mound. Azrea sneered with displeasure and returned to her comfort and darkness. She’d built a ‘cave’ lair for herself and not a single two-legged, albeit pleasantly smelling, idiot would dare to stick her hairless hand in there! Hadjar didn’t know that many maids had almost left their fingers behind in the tiger cub’s mouth. In the end, they had abandoned their attempts to feed the General’s pet. They’d also cleaned the chambers only when accompanied by the guards. The guards had at first laughed at them because they feared a kitten. However, after one of them had sat down on the edges of the bed and ended up fighting the kitten that had latched onto his face for about fifteen minutes, the mockery had subsided.
“I hope you didn’t have too much fun without me,” Hadjar continued.
A scornful snort came from the mound, which could be interpreted as, “I don’t have much fun with you, either.”
Hadjar took a piece of corned beef from a special niche and threw it on the bed for his pet. A claw popped out, caught the piece of meat midair, and soon the scornful grumbling changed to a more satisfied rumbling.
Hadjar wasn’t worried that the bed might get smelly or dirty. He wasn’t going to sleep on it anyway. The last few weeks had made him long to sleep on the ground. So, after spreading his cloak out on the floor and putting the skin of the White Ape on top of it, the General assumed a lotus position. He closed his eyes and plunged into deep meditation.
Somewhere in the Palace, a fierce argument raged. Accompanied by swearing, outbursts of energy, shattered bas-reliefs, and crumbling walls. The servants and guards trembled with fear as, for the first time ever, the Prince, the Princess, and the King kept arguing so fiercely, with no sign of stopping any time soon.
This lasted for at least three hours, until the Governor entered the hall where the military and political councils were held. Only then did the storm of emotions and energies die down as the parties probably managed to come to some sort of agreement.
Hadjar didn’t know any of this. Such details had no effect on his plan. He just focused on diving deep into the River of Energy. He held what was left of Azrea’s mother’s core in his hands. The energy of the wild beast would help him advance to the next stage of the Transformation level.
Hadjar stared at the shimmering, almost imperceptible silhouette of the simple sword. Hidden within the depths of the ‘waters’ of the world’s energy, it drew him in with new secrets and mysteries, promising so much. Hadjar kept swimming toward it despite the pain and cuts spreading across his body.
Azrea came out of her mound. She looked at her stupid two-legged whose body was being harmed by deep cuts. Blood flowed across his body, right onto the skin of the dead, white beast.
The tiger cub yawned, jumped down to the floor, and crossed the distance separating them in one leap. Azrea curled up on Hadjar’s lap and the General’s breathing steadied. He felt better knowing that he wasn’t alone.
Chapter 226
“Remind me, please,” Hadjar uncorked a jug of wine with his teeth and filled his friend’s bowl first and then his own, “what are we doing here?”
Nero grabbed the bowl, drained it in one gulp, and put it back
