Upon returning to the mountain, the residents surrounded , eagerly asking how everything went and if there would be a war. I quickly cald them down: I said that if a war did start, I would be the only one fighting it. They exhaled and went about their business.
By the way, I acquired soone like a right-hand man here—a guy who now follows
around and handles all sorts of minor issues. Also, so little girl drew a coat of arms for us. Sothing like a dandelion, I think... I didn't really get it, but decided: alright, let this be our official coat of arms.
There were more and more residents every day. But along with them, a mountain of problems was growing too.
First—laws. In theory, they were simple: "Do no evil, and good will co to you," and all that sort of thing. BUT DAMN IT! Sitting down and spelling out exactly where evil ends and good begins, or writing tedious drivel about how "your freedom ends where your neighbor's freedom begins"—that's not fun at all. Deadly boring.
Then the heavy question of religion popped up. BUT MAN! When I accepted the first residents, my condition was ironclad: discard the past to step into the future. Therefore, any religion is welco here. Believe in whatever you want, as long as it's of your own free will.
And then a complete nightmare began: salaries, money, where to store it all, what, where, when... HOW TIRED I am of all this!
In short, instead of myself, I sat my right-hand man in the ruler's chair, said: "If there are real problems, call ," turned around, and bailed as far away from everyone as possible to the very peak of the mountain.
A month later, I had completely settled in here. About a thousand creatures were already living in the mountain and its surroundings. I don't know what they liked so much here: the abundance of everything and low taxes, or the fact that I live here—the most handso man in the world? I don't even know.
My forr "right-hand," the guy I put in charge, decided to play democracy. He stripped himself of absolute power and arranged national elections for a ruler once every six years. With a condition: if the people want, they have the right to remove him from office early, and all that sort of thing. In short, a classic: if the ruler is good—he stays, if bad—he gets booted. Basically, every six years soone will be pulling the blanket over to their side. I only asked that there not be a single word about
in their official papers. Though, obviously, everyone already knew perfectly well about
anyway.
In the evening, I was sitting in the "research room." I don't know what the others call it, but that's what I nad it. Smart guys are constantly sitting here doing stuff. A week ago they were looking for the best concentration for so complex alloy, this ti—they were running experints and deciding how to properly organize the storage of supplies inside the mountain itself. IDK what they're busy with in there, honestly.
But one day a man of about sixty approached
and declared that he had an incredible idea. He started rambling about so energy from steam, about so steam engine...
I just waved him off and said: "Do what you want, you have my permission."
So far I have no idea how effective this will be, but his eyes burned so madly with this idea that I thought: alright, let the grandpa have his fun.
A month and a half later, the first signs of autumn appeared. The harvest was successfully gathered. According to the estimates of our newly minted scientists, the heat at the outer ring should hold—plus or minus ten degrees. All because of the heat of the mountain itself and the fact that the icy north wind hits right into the rocks, not reaching us.
And life inside the mountain itself seed to have sorted itself out. So sort of "citizenship" appeared here. First ti I've seen such a thing, to be honest. What kind of genius even ca up with this? Everyone who is considered a resident of Mount Slick is given an official piece of paper stating that they live here. Paper is expensive... I thought, looking at these passports.
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They conducted a census—there are exactly two thousand of us now. The mines are working at full capacity. By next spring, they want to try talking with neighboring kingdoms and establish trade.
But for now, I was asked to help build a port. They want to build ships. Since we are located by the sea, it's, like, logical: fish, all that stuff, and trading by water will be much easier.
True, almost no one lived on the inside of the mountain. Such terrible freezing cold and dampness stood there, icy rains poured constantly, and thick fogs hung in the air. Personally, it felt kinda creepy to go there alone.
I woke up. It turns out the residents of Mount Slick decided to keep their own calendar. Right now it's year zero for them, early September. Weird, but whatever, let them have their fun.
Though... it started again. I ran a hand over my head and noticed that red strands had begun to clearly appear in my hair. THIS AGAIN. My good old curse of oblivion is making itself known.
I peeked into my reflection: one of my eyes had already started to flood with a bright scarlet color, while the other still remained coal-black. It looked creepy.
I went for a walk around the mountain. Naturally, everyone I t looked back at
and shied away. On the way, I bumped into the current elected king—what's his na... Zorgh, I think. I actually liked sitting and chatting with him, you know, he's such a smart and wise old man.
Zorgh looked carefully at my two-tone face, hesitated, and cautiously asked: "Has sothing happened to you, my lord? Have you fallen ill, perhaps?"
"No, Zorgh," I waved him off. "It's just this difficult teenage phase." "Yeah, yeah, exactly. I'm just a very difficult teenager," I added to myself and walked on.
I walked down the stone corridors, my teeth clicking loudly. Itching again.
I went and asked our local blacksmiths to make
a massive iron bone and cover it with a thick layer of rubber—purely so it would be pleasant to chew and safe for the enal. They, of course, stared intently at my changing eyes and hair, but didn't ask any unnecessary questions.
The next day I woke up, walked over to my reflection, and realized: we've arrived. My hair had beco completely red, and both eyes were flooded with an even scarlet color. Yeah. Red doesn't suit
at all.
But the visuals were only half the trouble. TEETH, gums, bones—everything itched simply unbearably. O-o-o-oh, how everything itched! Especially the bones. I just felt this urge to break them myself, if only this stupid feeling would stop.
Right then, the craftsn ran up to
and solemnly handed over my bone. I grabbed it with relief and clamped my jaws down hard.
Crunch!
The thick iron inside crumpled and deford like thin lead. The craftsn rolled their eyes in surprise, exchanged glances, and, swallowing nervously, said they understood everything and would go remake it out of sothing stronger.
I couldn't wait. The dental itch was driving
crazy. I just went outside, found a thicker trunk, and started biting into the trees with frenzy.
I sat deep in the forest, found a good, thick oak branch, and bit into it with frenzy, trying to quell the cursed itch in my jaw.
Suddenly, I noticed scouts. They were hiding in the bushes, counting sothing and making marks on maps. I decided to track them. Following their trail for about a hundred kiloters, I stumbled upon a massive military camp—an entire army.
In the main tent, a report to the king was just taking place: "My sovereign! According to our data, they do not have a standing army. Most likely, it doesn't exist at all."
The king, standing before his generals and heads of influential houses, smiled predatorily: "I see. Then we march."
Pop.
I simply stepped out of the air and appeared right next to King Groutar. He jumped aside in fright, eyes bulging.
"Hello. And hello to you too," I nodded politely.
I looked around the gathering. Everyone was in shock and couldn't move a hand or a foot.
"I have one question," I said calmly. "If I kill your king right now, will you stop attacking us?"
Instead of an answer, the generals and nobles suddenly flew into a rage, soone reached for a sword, furious shouts were heard.
Snap.
I simply snapped my fingers, and in that sa second, the heads of ten people in the tent flew off their shoulders. The king's—included. Blood sprayed like a fountain, flooding the maps on the table.
I turned around and walked out of the tent into the stunned camp. Thousands of soldiers looked at
in complete stupor. The itch in my bones beca unbearable, I simply couldn't take it anymore. I jumped into the crowd and bit hard into the throat of so warrior who got in my way.
Crunch!
Amazing. The terrible itch in my jaw instantly disappeared. A blissful relief set in. But I... I wanted more. This animalistic hunger... it wasn't passing.
In short, in about one day, this entire massive army scattered in all directions, abandoning their weapons and supplies in a panic. And they very loudly promised that they would never set foot here again.
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