Chilled exorcist.

Chapter 27 "Two Hunters"

The withered horse in metal armor seemed to be flying, galloping across the road. He seemed to be indefatigable and rather stagnant in the stalls. In the end, he was just glad to finally leave on the path I had chosen. I felt it. Take off these armor plates decorated with precious gold and the same stones from him now, and there will be something dried up, almost weightless, possessing at the same time incredible power to set these plates in motion, tightly covering the horse enclosed inside from all sides.

Arsa was sitting behind me, hugging my chest and resting her head on my shoulder. She seems to have fallen asleep from the measured jump. I held the reins and guided the withered horse, as the Keeper of the Castle called him. We were driving along the river. Soon, a stone bridge on the other side appeared ahead. We crossed it so quickly that I didn't have time to see what was glistening on the shallow bottom. It was probably a research submarine that got stuck in shallow water. Or maybe some kind of steam engine jumped off the bridge, going berserk.

Yes, unfortunately, dark times have come for researchers. Their mechanisms were failing from exhaustion. But, on the whole, they have never been particularly bright, I chuckled to myself. After all, researchers have been studying the Canopy of Ignorance. Now their wing in Kostegrad is neglected. But they own a lot of interesting discoveries! The same glowing mushrooms. Sometimes I forget that they invented and implemented it, not the milchemists, and I say that the residents of the laboratories did it. It is immediately clear to a simple villager — "Milchemist, he is from Kostegrad, he is listed." And if you say "Researchers", then you will have to talk about them for a long time. The thing is that after the loss of the canopy, their business fell into disrepair. But the wing of milchemy has flourished with the advent of oserenie. I heard, of course, that the Cult of Bones also came from among the researchers, that these were those who did not disdain forbidden knowledge in the Order. Although, if you think about it, there are a lot of things in the Order that are forbidden.

Here, beyond the bridge, I saw a slight streak of green and yellow grass, clearings among the weakened sedimentation in the bend of the river. The old golems of explorers still walk here, near the mouth, and try to cultivate the once vast fertile fields. Some of them have already fallen into the ground, covered with moss and gray...

One of the golems partially restored himself with the help of a tree. The earth is reflected in a small window on the chest. His nose is disproportionately large, apparently he fell under the influence of oserization, since he has become so independent that he complements himself. Looking closer, I noticed a glint of gold in the hole he was digging. "Eh. They used to plant seeds. Well, he's definitely gone crazy..." I decided. "Krex. PEX! Fex," his fiery engine groans. And there is a spark of hope in his eyes.

Another bridge appeared ahead. There are many of them in this river delta. Here, the ferry is partially destroyed, so once upon a time, researchers parked a metal raft in a collapsed place. And now the half-submerged surface submarine, rusty and stuck to the destroyed bridge, still served as a reliable and wide opportunity to cross the river. A kind of platform, like a cornerstone shield, put forward with a sharp side. The horse's hooves echoed several blows on the metal and raised a sheaf of spray, hitting the shallow water.

Just go ahead! There was another bridge, and behind it, in a light haze, an island showed itself, on which the Land of Light remained. A kind of small Alcove where a traveler can set up his camp and forget about the hardships of the Frontier Highway. The Rukh Fortress has long tried to solve problems with grain for the Costegrad. But alas, now there is only one outpost left from a certain great Northern Light Lands. This joint project of researchers and priests of the Rukh Fortress was one of the last.

New rows of golems sleeping in the fields have appeared. Mossy, they still stood guard over these lands, as the last reminder of the former greatness of Kostegrad. "Perhaps someday the living metal will finally petrify, and future researchers will say that these terracotta warriors are just statues," I mused.

A lone and mindless zombie was trudging through green meadows, abundantly overgrown with yellow flowers. I stopped my horse after staring at this sight. Stealthily and crouching, he walked forward somewhere. There was something unnatural about him. I jumped off— you can't leave him here. Arsa woke up alarmed, but after looking around, she calmed down. I raised my weapon and cut down the opponent. Then he dripped from a bottle with a mag-bomb. Like a long time ago... It is customary in all bright lands — infected corpses are burned so that the contamination does not penetrate further into the lands of the living.

"I've never been in a Bright Alcove," Arsa shivered.

"I've never been here either. A few years ago, everything was different in this place," my voice sounded softly against the background of the murmuring water. When I came up, she jumped down and put her hands on my shoulders. She looked into my eyes, her milchemist glasses flashing. She reached out and took off my mask, and then unbuttoned her own. She bent down carefully and kissed me.

"I'm sorry for hitting you, I am... I'm grateful for the rescue," she stood on tiptoe to kiss me.