Vargas knew better than to fight an angry mob and surrendered.
But even with the disaster averted—
Without both Zoltan and the captain, Konrad only had a short lease on life.
The villagers tied the guard up like a piece of meat, but didn't lay a finger on him.
Missed opportunity. While he wanted him alive, a little bruising should have been fine.
"You piece of shit. You'll regret this." The captain threatened him in an empty warehouse, where the village elder threw him. "If I don't return, the guards will—"
"What? Piss themselves?"
"You backstabbed me," Vargas of all people claimed.
"Bullshit," the boy said. Then he got stuck. "I, uh, committed to my Good Cop bit."
"You what?" The captain looked at him as if he were from another world. Which, well—
Konrad sighed to buy himself time.
"You heard about the, uh, Inquisition's Good Cop Bad Cop, right?" He remembered many sayings that made no sense in Kasserlane. "It's an interrogation technique."
The captain's eyes narrowed. "You worked for the Inquisition?"
"No, but Father Alastair—my foster dad—told me of their methods." He did not, but how would the captain know? "You acted like a jerk, so I thought you played the Bad Cop part."
More confusion.
"The Bad Cop scares the captive, the Good Cop shows sympathy. Didn't you notice Zoltan answered me but ignored you? I gained his trust and saved you from the mob."
The captain strained against his ropes.
"Then why not untie me?!"
"Well, I have to uncover the secrets first," Konrad claimed, getting the hang of the play. "I'll help you escape later and tell you everything I've found."
"That'd never work," Vargas grumbled, but stopped struggling.
"You'll be in Aset in no time," the boy promised. "But keep the illusion a secret to save face."
Vargas shuddered. He knew what was at stake. "You've until midnight to convince me."
Not that he could get out of those restraints alone. If only Zoltan were that easy to trick, too.
"Dunno what you're scheming, but you stink," the beastman said, funny coming from him.
"I'm making sure both you and the villagers survive this," Konrad replied. "If the duke finds out the mage was never here—"
Zoltan's ears twitched. He got him where he wanted.
"Too late for that. You dispelled Ejtyangard's cover," he muttered, kicking at a rock.
The boy already hated what he was about to suggest.
"Not if I return the crystal. You could reset everything—and I'll make sure Vargas won't talk."
It wasn't that hard to figure out what he needed it for.
That contraption built around it was right at the heart of that huge illusion.
"Why'd you do that?"
"So you're not executed," Konrad said, shrugging. "And in return, you can teach me magic."
Despite how pale he was, Zoltan laughed.
"Boy, you have humor," he noted, snatching the crystal away. "How could I teach you when I know almost nothing?" Then he paused, adding. "And it's not like I trust you anyway."
"That illusion was pretty impressive." Konrad focused on the praises. Those always worked.
"Light magic's the weakest. Once you know the basics, you can bend it at your will, but—"
"That's it," the boy interrupted, getting excited. "Teach me the simplest of things. Please."
The illusionist pondered for a while before waving him to follow.
"I, uh, have a codex called Book of Light, but most of it is in shambles. Don't touch anything."
The warning was unnecessary. Konrad soon found out where that awful stench came from.
"This is where I recover my master's notes." Zoltan pointed at his tools, scattered within the ruins. "I collected thousands of pages and am still cataloguing them."
He walked to a tub filled with an angry green liquid with parchments dissolving inside.
How was this recovery?
"I add glowing ink to the notes, and the acid takes the rest away."
The result he presented was fragile, but better than the burned, moldy, and faded originals.
What could have even caused such decay?
"Do you also have notes on what your master worked on when the tower crumbled?"
The ruins seemed centuries old, but the Green Mage only disappeared half a year ago.
"Nothing. No traces of him, either," Zoltan shook his head. "The villagers said there was no explosion or anything. But he was in the tower—and all their crops withered away that day."
Did he experiment with an aging spell?
For all he knew, it could've been a failed time travel attempt—or a successful one, too.
"The recovery is slow," the beastman sighed. "It's hard to tell which page belongs where. And I have a lot of other things to do as well." Yeah, like stealing and scamming.
Konrad had to remind himself that they were on the same side right now.
"I always need more mana crystals for the glowing ink," Zoltan explained. "And to power my Artifact of Greater Illusion—which you broke." That still stung from the looks of it.
But what was he on about? He still didn't show him that codex.
When would they finally get to the teaching part?
"I returned the crystal," Konrad noted, becoming restless. "Can't you rebuild it?"
"Between teaching you and restoring more pages?" he grunted. "The town's soldiers would be here before I could even start in earnest." Okay, so he was actually busy.
"I'll deal with the Captain," the boy said. "But if I won't have the basics within a month—"
Zoltan snorted, holding back a laugh. Then he realised Konrad was serious.
"Impossible. In a month?! I'd better turn myself in now."
Of course. Everyone would rather die than help him for once.
"Would it kill you to try?" the boy complained, eyes rolling. "I got robbed, beaten, forced into a scheme, and more—thanks to you. Yet here I am, offering to cover your shit up."
That at least shut the beastman up, scratching his non-human ears for a while.
"You don't want the villagers massacred," Konrad pressed on. "But if I don't convince Vargas to keep your secret, he'll come back with an army. Teach me magic, and I can stop him."
If only he felt as confident as the voice he managed.
"B-but how will you convince him?" Zoltan asked, his ears flattening against his head.
"Vargas? That's easy."
Konrad lied, giving him a quick rundown.
"I'll help him escape tonight and promise him to uncover your secrets. He'll have to keep his mouth shut until then, so I get better results—I already fed him a story."
Zoltan paled, nodding along, chewing his lips while considering the idea.
"And how would teaching you the basics make him stick to his words?" he asked.
A good question, but he was wracking his head around this the entire time.
"He'd lose face if they found out your master was gone without him knowing. But he also stands to earn a fortune if I became a wizard." And in a sense, this was all true.
Vargas wanted to use him for his own benefit. Now he used him as a threat instead.
It was odd to manipulate them both while giving them exactly what they wanted.
"Fine, I'll teach what little I know." Zoltan offered a shaky hand. "But if you lied, I'll drown you in that acid tub before the duke's men arrive."
He didn't have to do that. Konrad was already choking on his sour stench.