Amon breathed a sigh of relief. The storm had passed, leaving a taste of ash in his mouth. Everything had turned out incredibly well. Soon, he would touch new knowledge and perhaps find a way home!
The mage had already disappeared into the depths of the Academy. Amon quickly caught up with him, and they walked together.
After a few dozen meters, they turned onto a spiral staircase without railings, leading into impenetrable darkness.
"Be careful," the sorcerer warned. "If you fall, no magic will help you. Stay close to the wall."
Amon pressed himself against the cold stone wall. The staircase was enveloped in darkness, barely dispelled by magical cones embedded in the stone. As they passed, the cones lit up with an unreliable light, illuminating the path for a few meters ahead.
"Not long ago, this place was one of the most beautiful in the Academy," the sorcerer said with sadness. "An endless road downward, illuminated by a ribbon of magical topazes. The railings were weak magical barriers that could be pushed through, but then they would gain density and return the unwary to the stairs. Older students liked such tricks... They would sometimes push the younger ones off the stairs, and they would close their eyes in terror or scream, expecting certain death. But the barrier wouldn't let them fall more than two or three meters. It would curl up and set them on their feet, on the nearest step. And then fear would turn into amusement, and the students would jump themselves to experience the short, but safe fall into the abyss..."
Amon and the mage descended lower, passing through floors submerged in darkness, with platforms jutting out into the staircase.
"The journey will be long," the sorcerer warned. "We no longer have the strength to maintain the lift platform. Only the ancient, primal magic of these places remains, and it doesn't include any comforts. The monsters didn't care about comfort."
"Monsters?" Amon asked, surprised. "Did the girls create this place?"
"No," the mage shook his head. "The monsters became beautiful women relatively recently, just a thousand years ago. The magic of the Demoness turned the monsters into women, hungry for men. Before that, the monsters killed people. They still do, but gently, assimilating humanity. Mamono do not give birth to boys, and if they prevail, we will disappear. And behind us—so will the monsters."
"That's why Fallen Goddess called her creations terrifying," Amon murmured faintly. "Before the Iron Demon and the rise of the succubus to the throne, they were different."
In his mind, the picture of past events finally came together. Fallen Goddess created both humans and monsters, obeying her capricious logic. For millennia, monsters destroyed humans, and humans destroyed monsters. But the Iron Demon, whose appearance the Goddess failed to predict, broke this cycle.
For some reason, he attacked the monsters choosing a new ruler, killing the contenders. The succubus ascended to the throne. She exploited a hole in the laws of the universe and managed to amass great power, which, however, she used in an extraordinary way.
Monsters became mamono. However, she made a mistake, or simply did not wish for the monsters to give birth to men. Therefore, mamono inevitably attack humans to continue their lineage.
During copulation between a human and a monster, two types of energy are emitted—demonic and human, let's call it spiritual, why not? An endless transformation of energy... Under the influence of mamono, a man becomes an incubus—the perfect husband for his mistress, adapting to the mamono and unwilling to leave her. Accordingly, both psychology and physiology change.
In ancient times, Fallen Goddess fed on different energy. But upon arriving in Pandemonium, she formed a new cult and now absorbs the demonic energy emitted by her priestesses.
'Not bad. This picture seems strangely frightening but quite logical,' Amon thought with satisfaction. 'Especially amusing is that the monsters' main goal hasn't changed. They, though not understanding, still seek to destroy humans. But it doesn't matter. It doesn't affect my main goal.'
"Few know," the mage continued in the meantime, "That El-Farrah is built on the ruins of a city of monsters, and the current Academy was once a citadel of creatures. Led by the founder of the Emir dynasty, humans stormed the dark forces' stronghold and established a city here, which later grew into the Emirate. Then the capital was moved elsewhere, and the Enemy's fortress became the bastion of knowledge. Hundreds of generations of powerful sorcerers studied here."
At the next landing, the twentieth one, they stopped descending and entered one of the dark passageways with vaulted ceilings and dusty floors.
The coolness of the stairs was replaced by the musty, stagnant air.
"Here," the mage whispered something, and the tip of his staff glowed with an eerie flame.
"The first mages couldn't fully overcome the spells the monsters placed on the underground chambers of the Academy," the mage said, following a path known only to him. Amon kept pace.
"Instead, they changed the polarity of the magic. And what was intended to bring us ruin became our protection. Just six months ago, no monster could have entered here. But now, the spells have weakened, and I'm not sure they'll hold up against the magic of a group of mamono."
They kept walking, and Amon began to feel that the corridor might never end. He kept turning his head, peering into the side rooms with stone benches arranged in a semicircle.
At times, Amon's imagination made the abandoned classrooms come alive, and he could almost see the mage in the center of the room revealing another secret of the universe to the young students.
Meanwhile, the air grew thicker, and soon Amon noticed that he had to exert considerable effort to overcome the resistance.
"People have always feared us," the mage bitterly said. "Perhaps because of the terrible reputation and the Academy's past. Perhaps because our school of magic drew much from the ancient sorcery of the monsters. People don't understand that knowledge is a tool, and the result depends on who holds it. Even the most terrifying things can be used for good, and the most beautiful things for evil. In this matter, the Emir sided with the rabble. He's very foolish and reckless, our Emir, the grandson of his own grandfather, who miraculously rose to the throne. And they say he's superstitious—he's madly afraid of the evil eye and black magic. Six months ago, he ordered the Academy to be closed. Fool... And we—greater fools—obeyed his will without resistance. The mages scattered, each to their own. And I, along with a dozen other old men, stayed here as 'watchers.' But enough about the past. We're almost at the library now," the mage said.
After a few dozen more steps, the space marine began to fall behind the mage. His legs felt as if they were made of lead, and an unbearable weight pressed on his back.
Amon stopped.
"Something wrong?" the mage asked, noticing that his companion had not moved.
"I can't go any further," Amon said, breathing heavily, struggling to move. "Something's holding me back."
The mage frowned. He raised his staff above his head, filling the corridor with bright light, and walked around Amon several times. Then he sadly pursed his lips and said:
"No... It won't work. I'm sorry, stranger, but you'll have to turn back."
"Why?"
"Protective magic," the mage explained. "It's everywhere here. It's detected the imprint of demonic energy on you. Tell me honestly: have you bound your life to a monster-girl?"
"A shark attacked me, but I broke free. Could it be because of that?"
"Hardly," the mage shook his head and lowered his extinguished staff. "That's not enough. Perhaps your journey took you through realms filled with demonic energy," the mage speculated, "and you've been without protective charms for a long time?"
Amon thought for a moment. The desert was clearly not part of the monster kingdom. Al-Gord and the sea didn't fit that definition either. Although, his journey in this foreign world had started from another place: the gray dungeon.
"Is Pandemonium considered a demonic realm?" Amon asked.
"You truly have an iron will and indomitable reason, stranger!" the mage exclaimed with horror. "Pandemonium and Makkai are at the very heart of the eternal Enemy! How did you manage to escape from there in sound mind and remain human?"
"It wasn't easy," Amon admitted, avoiding mentioning his deal with Fallen Goddess. "Fortunately, I wasn't there for long. But what does all this mean? Are you saying I'm turning into an incubus? Without a wife?"
The mage gave him a thoughtful look.
"I don't think so. Not yet. You're lucky, stranger—few can endure such a concentration of demonic energy and remain human. But I must ask: have you noticed any changes in yourself?"
"None," Amon lied. There had been many changes, from bouts of madness to pleasant sensations from the illusory touch of Fallen Goddess and a softness towards people.
"Good," the mage said with relief. "That means it's not so bad, though you've come close to a dangerous edge. Now you must be very, very cautious, stranger! Do everything you can to avoid mamono! If you fall into the hands of the monsters, a few encounters will turn you into an incubus."
"I'll try not to," Amon promised. "But now we have another problem. Is there a way to disable the protective spells?"
"I can't, stranger," the mage sadly lowered his gaze. "Even for someone as noble and wise as you. My heart is torn with pain and sorrow. You've opened my eyes, breathed hope and courage into me. In you, I saw our glorious past, and I hoped for our future. But it's impossible to deactivate the protection, and as the guardian of this ancient citadel, I have no right to teach someone rejected by the magic of the past. The Academy refused to accept you, so you must leave."
Amon felt bitterness fill him. The knowledge was so close! He just needed to reach out and take it, to let it pass through him, making it a part of his intricate plans. But the final barrier was insurmountable. Amon knew people well and understood that he wouldn't be able to persuade the mage.
It was all in vain—the journey through the desert, the wandering through the city, the attacks of the past. What next? Should he look for other magic schools where he might not be accepted? Learn from random acquaintances?
He didn't have time for that! The space marine clenched his fists in anger. He was sure he'd find another way in and break the protective spells. He had to.
"You'll regret your principles, mage," Amon spat at the bewildered mage. "I'll return here. But this time—not as a friend."
The space marine turned sharply and, almost running, headed toward the inn.