Khaal sat on the table and, as everyone thought, played with wooden knights. In reality, he was carefully studying an unfolded scroll left by the king. Well, not exactly studying – he was allowing his neural network to copy everything into the database. Reading the strange squiggles was still difficult for him. But judging by the drawings, it was somehow related to martial arts.
If one looked more closely at the drawn poses, they depicted palm strikes. Somewhat banal, in the prince's opinion. Fortunately, no one asked for his opinion. And in general, they had placed him on the royal table for only one purpose – to save on palace repairs.
"Record," Khaal commanded yet again.
[Processing request... Request processed. Data entered into the special catalog "Information about techniques."]
In their son's presence, the king and queen did not argue. Probably, they never argued in only a few cases. When they were trying to give Khaal a brother or sister, when he sat next to them, and when they were at opposite ends of the country.
In other situations, their different but very similar temperaments created legendary scenes. And what else could you expect from two adepts at the transformation level? And considering Elizabeth's sharp tongue, she quite often "rode" on this topic. Mentioned that she was three times younger than Haver, but at the same stage of development.
The sore spot for men here wasn't the appendage in their pants, but personal strength and age. Which was surprising, considering the lifespan of adepts.
"I don't understand why you're so nervous."
There weren't many people in the office.
The nurse (despite her low status, she unofficially remained one of the kingdom's most important figures), Primus, the king with the queen, as well as the court scholar and Master. Exactly so. This short, also gray-haired man – though one couldn't call him an old man – taught the nobles the arts. He drove them quite hard. And he received so much money from parents that major merchant guilds might have been envious.
"And you're not at all concerned that our son crawls around the palace alone?"
Haver looked at his son. He was fiddling with toys and paying no attention to the adults.
"It's hard to find a safer place in the country than the palace," the king shrugged.
"But he's so small!" Elizabeth raised her voice.
The nurse shielded the nearby dishes with her body, and Primus clenched his fists. The air slightly swirled around him. Barely noticeable, but this didn't escape the neural network and, consequently, Khaal.
[Message to bearer! Force activation detected in the near perimeter!]
This was the message that briefly distracted Khaal. The local magic, paying tribute to a franchise known in his homeland, he decided to simply and sternly call – the Force.
"A small boy," Haver corrected. "I remember when I was a child, I also climbed everywhere."
"I hasten to note, Your Majesty," the nurse cleared her throat. "Until the age of seven, you appeared everywhere only in the company of the late queen."
Haver glared at the cantankerous old woman but didn't reply to her.
"What if he falls somewhere and injures something?!"
Primus rolled his eyes. In his opinion, Queen Elizabeth was somewhat obsessively concerned about the prince.
"In my opinion, Elizabeth, you're trying to turn a wolf into a rabbit. Nothing good will come of it."
"Nobody asked for your opinion!" the queen barked. "And anyway, what are you doing here? Aren't you expected at another war council, hunt, feast, brothel, or whatever else you do while convincing me that you're ruling the country?!"
Primus looked at his brother, raised his palms, and muttering something, left the office.
"Dear, let's calm down – nothing terrible has happened."
"But it could have!"
The situation was clearly escalating. The neural network flooded with messages about a potential threat to the bearer.
"Allow me to speak, Your Majesty," the scholar who had risen from his seat bowed.
Elizabeth glared fiercely at the old man, but after a moment, the fire in her eyes died out.
"Please, honorable Scholar Southern Wind."
The old man bowed.
"I may be mistaken, but it seems that fate itself destined the young prince to end up in the Hall of Mysteries. Today during the lessons, it seemed to me that he didn't just cry, but wanted to ask a question."
"A question?" the nurse snorted. "Have you completely lost your mind with your scrolls, Southern Wind? You should go outside more often. The little one still can't talk."
Even the king and queen didn't allow themselves such liberties in communicating with the scholar. In the entire kingdom, there was only one person who didn't mince words with either the Master or Southern Wind.
"That's easy to check." The scholar suddenly approached the table. He took parchment, a quill, and an inkwell, placed them before Khaal and said: "Draw me a map of our kingdom, student."
Just the word "student" stunned most of them. The nobles who attended the lecture weren't his students at all. Just children of those who paid the scholar money for teaching. He saw nothing more in them than a source of income. And in general, in all the centuries, the king had never heard of Southern Wind taking anyone as a student.
"Thank you for the honor bestowed, honorable scholar." Suddenly Elizabeth even bowed. The queen bowing to a common man! "But my son..."
Silence fell in the office.
Khaal didn't need long to think. What was his goal in the new world and the new body? Of course, it was what he couldn't achieve before. When he watched videos on television or the internet of people traveling the world, he could only envy them. Mountaineers, divers, ordinary tourists easily explored what then seemed like a big world.
Now he lived in a new land. Huge, full of dangers and amazing possibilities. And to explore them, to be free from the shackles of his fate, he had to become strong. Much stronger than his father and mother. Much more powerful than his uncle.
His first goal was the Black Gates sect, and for this, he needed to reach the eighth stage of the Bodily Rivers by the age of sixteen. How to do this, given the kingdom's scarce resources? Only if all these resources, though scarce, were directed toward his development.
So Khaal gave an order to the neural network, and it projected the map onto the parchment. Of course, only Khaal himself could see it, but that was enough to start tracing the contours with the quill.
"This can't be," the nurse exhaled.
"Maybe the child can't speak yet, but he can understand us." It seems Southern Wind was surprised himself. "Tell me, student, what change will you receive if you pay two hundred ground coins for a sword worth one hundred and eighty."
"Scholar, don't joke," the Master spoke for the first time. "He can't know about..."
Khaal mentally slapped himself in the face. No, he had never attended school, but if there were such "intelligent" questions there, it's no wonder why so few people liked to study.
Instead of babbling, he showed ten fingers. People exhaled in disappointment, and then collapsed onto chairs in shock.
Khaal clenched his fingers and spread them again.
"...that," the Master finished.
"Where can you find the seventeen-ray herb?"
This time no one argued with the scholar. And yet – people were quite surprised when the prince pointed with his finger to a mountain on the map he had drawn.
"How many grams of this herb, and how many grams of old soul powder, would be needed to make a medicine against blue scorpion poison?"
This time the question was so complex that even the king and queen couldn't answer it. Nor could the nurse. Of those present, only the Master and the scholar knew the correct answer.
Well, and Khaal too. Or rather – the neural network, which had recorded all the books he had ever seen open. And what's good, not only books but also lectures he had overheard. Fortunately, just a month ago, Southern Wind had given a lecture on this topic.
"Amazing," the Master exhaled when he saw two fingers on one hand and four on the other.
"It seems, Your Majesty, that the heavens themselves have blessed you with a genius."
People were speechless, but Khaal stared unblinkingly at the Master. They say that on Earth, to get a beautiful girl into bed, sometimes you needed to get close to her friend.
No, the prince didn't intend to sleep with the Master, but the path to his apprenticeship lay through Southern Wind's lectures.
"What do you say, dear?" Elizabeth asked.
"Honorable Scholar Southern Wind," after thinking a bit, the king addressed the old man. "Will you really take Khaal as your student?"
"Yes," the old man nodded. "And he will be the first I will teach in all the two thousand years that I have lived."
Big deal, an old man who has lived for two thousand years. What's so special about that...
Khaal no longer doubted that he was indeed in another world.
"Analysis," he commanded, looking at Southern Wind.
[Processing request... Request processed. Compiling table.]
Name: Southern Wind
Development level: ????????????????
Strength: ????????????????
Agility: ????????????????
Constitution: ????????????????
Energy points: ????????????????
[Request cannot be processed... insufficient data for analytical comparison.]
"Then we'll decide on that," Haver nodded. "From this day forward, you may visit Khaal's chambers at any time convenient for you."
"But forgive us," Elizabeth suddenly added, "the nurse will be present during your lessons."
Southern Wind initially wanted to object that his knowledge couldn't be spread to an unrefined lady, but he encountered the gaze of clear blue eyes. Not at all childish. Far from stupid.
To be the teacher of a future luminary of mysteries?
Well, he could make such a sacrifice.
This began Khaal's lessons, and also set his cunning plan in motion.