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Chapter 40.

  The room was almost pitch-black - the only window was carefully curtained, there was no glowing moss on the walls, and the dim blue-green glow of the lamp hanging at the entrance made it hard to see anything inside. And it would have been even harder to see the half-lying figure in the rocking chair in the far corner of the room. The figure appeared to be sound asleep, and not even a sensitive ear could detect her breathing, but the sound of the door opening was heard.

  "Is that you, Pulsok?" the weak, rattling voice could only belong to a decrepit old man who could hardly pronounce his words.

  "Yes, my lord," the goblin confirmed with a bow. "How could anyone else get in here?"

  "And yet... I detected a surge of magic... older than the stars... who dared..."

  "Don't worry, master, our magic detectors didn't register anything unusual. Otherwise, I would have reported to you immediately!"

  "However... we must hurry... this body won't hold out much longer... we must speed up the preparations..."

  "The first round of the tournament has already been held, and tomorrow there will be a second round! We'll do our best!"

  "Yes, let them practice as much as they can.... Promise any awards to the winners...because there aren't many left...."

  "No more than twenty, master!"

  "Very well... but don't let your guard down... nothing should fall off..."

  The voice was silenced, and the goblin realized that the audience was over. Smiling obsequiously and backward, he left the room and closed the door carefully behind him. Then he exhaled with relief - despite the weakness of the body, the master can do a lot of magic, not too pleasant for others. He had been rather irritable of late, snapping at his faithful servant. But what was he to blame? Not everything depended on him, even if a lot. On the other hand there was no sense for the master to look for a replacement, everything would be over soon and he would finally get the promised reward.

  After the outburst of emotion, Pulsok felt tired. After all, the years have taken their toll; no goblin has lived as long as he has. Thanks to the master, who gave the amulet capable of harnessing the life energy of others and transmitting it to its owner. A diminutive copy of the Pourer, designed by a dark druid whose name Pulsok couldn't remember, but it didn't really matter. The main thing is that the amulet was still functioning, siphoning energy from any living beings in its vicinity. Occasionally venturing out to Gallaeri, he used it for his compatriots, for whom he had no warm feelings. From time to time he used apprentices as well, but tried not to overuse since his master wouldn't approve this. So most often he had to use plants - you can't get much energy out of small animals like sturshes or paamphs, and a unicorn won't let him near it. I'd like to kill him, Pulsok thought with anger. Well, maybe in the future, not now. At the same time, the representatives of flora will not complain and will not put up any resistance. The only trace of influence is that trees dry out, the grass withers, the smell of rotting appears, and it takes time for the traces of 'treatment' to disappear. Therefore, it is reasonable to work in places where people are seldom. Last time he'd been too impatient and activated the amulet in the middle of a clearing not too far from the school. As a result, one of the pupils stumbled upon it and had no better idea than to complain to the elf teacher. Master Nimikel, of course, could not find anyone to blame (let her dare!), and reported what had happened to him personally: someone was spoiling nature, we need to take action. She is a girl! Fifteen years ago she had been the same snotty apprentice, and if it hadn't been for the greatest mercy of the master and the suddenly vacated position of the teacher of Green Magic...

  No, he shouldn't be nervous anymore; he should concentrate on his goal. There is no point in going to the grove of zantrs - he had been there too often before, and the trees there had learned not only to resist 'treatment', but also to throw up roots and braid them around whoever had the misfortune to enter their domain. It is better to go to the two-headed cliff; there are thickets of thorny wursls there that, even if they wither, no one would cry over.

  Thinking that, Pulsok moved straight to the fountain. Too bad there are too few fish in it, and they're too small. Though he wouldn't mind seeing them swim upside down. It is a long way to the thicket, and he thought of calling on the ghosts. But after some thought, the goblin decided not to call them - let them better patrol the school. He would be unlikely to meet any of the pupils, since they had long since been rudely taught to prowl the woods at night. The night darkness didn't bother him at all; being a subterranean goblin, he knew his way around in the starlight just as well as he did in the daytime. Less than an hour later, he was at the entrance to the ravine where the wursls grew. According to local belief, if you walk to the bottom of the ravine to the end, you will come across a crevice from where you can go down to the foot of the mountains. But no one went this way - try to get through the bushes bristling with needles. And what for - to accidentally stumble and fall off the cliff? There is no need to tempt fate, the bushes that grow on the slopes of the ravine are enough.

  He chose the ones that seemed thicker, hung an amulet on one of the branches, and pressed the black stone at its center. Inside the stone lit a purple flame, incapable of being a guiding light, for the heart of it was darkness. And the same darkness was now spreading in all directions, making the blooming flowers wither, making the leaves dry and the branches stiff and brittle. And so it went on, until it sated and dragged itself back into the stone, which turned crimson red as a result. As soon as the goblin touched it, he felt a rush of strength as if he'd been born again. He felt himself young and strong again, and the stone faded and turned black again.

  Now he could go back - there was still time to catch up on some sleep before the tournament began. He missed the first performance, seeing no particular interest in attending it, but he would have to go to the second one and mark the most advanced in magic pupils - that was the master's command. The master seemed to be upset about something... no, more like alarmed at the mention of strange magic. He has to check the school mag-detectors to see if they were out of order, though they responded to the teachers' magic; the apprentice spells were simply too weak for them. Pulsok knew as much about witchcraft as he was required - his own mana reserves were too small even for moving a speck of dust. He had once tried to increase it, but neither crystals nor meditation had worked. Goblins are inherently non-magical creatures, and there is nothing they can do about it. A dwarf would sooner become a wizard than a goblin, let alone an elves or orcs. Long-eared ones are forgivable, but orcs! Rude and ignorant creatures, no better than goblins, and in some ways even worse, and they have the gift of magic! Pulsok has always taken such blatant injustice to heart, and he always was putting sticks in the wheels of the orcish schoolboys as much as he could. If he had his way, not one of them would be allowed to enter the school, but alas - Ixoar was in charge of selecting the pupils, and it doesn't care who it accepts into the school, as long as he has the gift. The last time he made a fool of himself, inviting a human who had no gift at all. And four orcs, too many for the school. The nastiest of them all is the girl with a tough character, she can only be bent by magic, and even that for a short time. Well, if she doesn't come to her senses, she'll get a 'special invitation', especially since she has no problem with her magic potential. Thanks to the squad members - the information they provide is sometimes truly priceless. He had volunteer informants before: there would always be those who wanted to get in front of their superiors. Another thing is that they rarely organized themselves, preferring to act at their own risk; in this respect, the current squad is a rather unique phenomenon. But the easier it is to keep order - where the ghosts fail to see, the activists will step in. If only there were more such conscientious students, how much easier life would be for school administrators! Because children are disobedient, willful, and sometimes malevolent in their nature, they like to destroy things or make mischief. And children-wizards are no exception, even worse, their command of magic allows them to invent such 'pranks' which ordinary boys and girls would never think of. If only one of the Masters could invent a spell that would make them obedient, polite, and unthinkable! He had already suggested it to Naraya, once a teacher of Mind magic. But he categorically refused to create the necessary formula, saying that then the schoolboys would lose any interest in life and would cease to exist as individuals at all. Who cares about their personalities, Pulsok thought irritably then, but did not argue. Still, if there wasn't much left, there was no point in changing anything. And now he could get some sleep, though with that much energy he could easily stay awake for the rest of the next day.

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  But, no, there was one more thing he hadn't done - it had been a long time since he'd been to the museum. He didn't really need to, because if someone tried to break in through the front door, the magical guards would raise the alarm. And there are some traps in the museum, too, just in case one of the apprentices had managed to teleport himself inside - though this has never happened since the entrance was sealed, and it's been nearly two hundred years since then. Why the master gave the order to close it, Pulsok did not know, but the order was strict: not allow anyone inside, not even teachers, put in reliable protection and regularly monitor the safety of the museum exhibits. Though they were safe inside glass showcases, locked by both usual and magic bolts.

  It is true that in the history of the school there were cases when some of the pupils managed to overcome the protection and steal or break the exhibits, but it is unlikely that because of this the museum was closed, the reason is something else. What a pity that the master didn't fully trust him! He had never once questioned his own loyalty or crossed it, not even in his thoughts. So be it, though it hurts a little. In addition, he had to invent a reason for closing the museum - the master never cared about such 'trifles'. And since then he has had to strictly enforce the order, intervening when necessary - for example, when Master Taikyu decided to investigate a 'magical anomaly' that had suddenly appeared in the museum. As a result, he had to be urgently replaced by someone who didn't stick his nose where it didn't belong.

  Although there's a lot to see in the museum, the goblin thought, going straight to the Exhibition Hall. On the left there are weapons, all of which are enchanted: a sword that burns with fire when it strikes; a dagger that cuts through stone like butter; a mace whose weight has been magically reduced many times so that even a child could use it, crushing everything in his path; a bow whose arrows always hit their target. And on the right - a section of protection against them, and first of all a set of armor made of mithril, the dream of any warrior. There is also a simpler armor, made of blown leather, but when you hit it any weapon slips off, not causing much damage. There's also non-combat attire, such as the hat of the Illusory Horror - the one who wears it gets such a terrifying look that few will dare to get closer, even knowing it's just an illusion. Or the boots of Silent Running - anyone who wears them can move not only quickly but also very quietly. Or a silver crown, which always delighted the pupils - as long as it was on your head, no one could see you. There are also simpler exhibits, like the Snow White Gown, which can't get dirty and stays dazzling even with a bit of mud.

  A little farther there are items more related to the magical arts. The staff that once belonged to Naergin, the founder and first Principal of the school; its tip still shines with a soft bluish light, but no one can tell what kind of sorcery it contains now. Or the wand of the arch-druid Quielles, who, according to legend, could turn any desert into a blooming garden. And next to it was a collection of rings and amulets that would be the honor of any jewelry store, since most of them were made of gold and silver, and adorned with precious stones. Depending on the type and cut of the stone, they could be enchanted to protect against fire, cold, curses, and mental influence, to create magical barriers, traps, and illusions, to hypnotize, dazzle, or terrorize an opponent - in general, almost any spell. In addition, you can wear several of them at once - you never know how the situation might develop! Alas, mane of the items on display here have long since ceased to possess any magic, and have only historical value - but they might still be of interest as jewelry, and when his service on Jelshakh comes to an end, he'll be sure to take some as 'souvenirs' - they'll fetch a bag of gold on Gallaeri for them.

  Barely able to resist the temptation to shove the most beautiful 'trinkets' into his pocket at once, the goblin began to walk around the Hall. The far side of the Hall was an exhibition of things constructed most often for fun. Like, for example, a toy mill with a mill wheel - if you poured water under it, the wheel would spin and the miller would pretend to grind grain. And no one turned the handle to make the mechanism work! In fact, there was an air elemental living in the wheel, and the signal to start its work was the appearance of water under the wheel. Next to the mill there was an inkpot and a bottle with ink. The writing they had made with them soon disappeared and could only be read by moistening the paper with milk. Or a set of pins for juggling - no matter how awkward you were, they wouldn't fall to the ground and would always return to your hands. The presence of such a strange exhibit in the museum could be explained by the fact that in the old days many young wizards moonlighted in circuses - it was not considered a disgrace to the profession. But more strange still was the presence of a basket with a set of brooms on which one could supposedly fly. What nonsense! A more inconvenient flying apparatus is hard to imagine, especially for males. And why travel through the air when you can teleport? After all, there are many magicians who have problems with their heads. They'd be flying on chairs, too!

  Farther back, at the very end of the Hall, was a pink marble statue of a strange creature, the likes of which the goblin had never seen before: a four-armed, and also three-eyed (the third eye was right in the middle of its forehead, and there was a huge ruby embedded in it). One pair of arms held a brass brazier in its balance, and the other two were outstretched to either side. The half-remembered inscription 'Oracle' on the pedestal, written in Old Elvish, gave no clue as to where such a strange creature might have come from. Although the unknown craftsman who carved the statue from a piece of marble clearly did so with the original in front of him. It seems it used to be able to predict the future, but the intricacies of the ritual had been forgotten over time, and it had been sent to a museum out of necessity. Where it was little by little covered with dust - just like everything else. The museum had never been cleaned in all the time since it was closed - and why should it be? The dust didn't bother the goblin himself at all; in fact, if an intruder had come here, there would have been footprints on the floor.

  Once he was certain there was no sign of anyone else in the Hall but his own, the goblin calmed down a bit. Checking the traps for uninvited guests just in case, he moved back to his apartment, where the Great Master Shupush had once resided when he was the Principal. Nothing reminded him of the former lodger: he had books and other unnecessary items sent to the fireplace, and he had a gilded wood throne installed in the middle of the room, where he could feel his superiority even over the school's teachers. And soon he'll have a throne of pure gold, and he'll be the lord of all goblins, as his master promised.

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