Published at 7th of May 2026 6:05 am

Chapter 170. The mansions plans

This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl

The speech was followed by a political debate about what would come next. Overall, not much was decided—the whole thing was just circular talk, with the pope assuring the rest that the church would be cleansed, and the representatives asking for concessions. The only thing decided on was special accommodations for larger personal security teams at the next meeting.

Then came the time for the legislative work that I didn’t have to be a part of. Instead, I tried to track the attackers, but it quickly turned out they were prepared. Any curses using blood, bodies, or weapons left behind failed to find purchase. The people they belonged to were either using countercurses or were dead. The magic used in the attack was strange as well. It was a mix of poison and the unusual attunement produced by their organs.

The church forces also found little, and I bet the family security teams didn’t have much success. The only lead we had was the burning of the archive. Once we had a list of its contents, we might attempt some divinations over the ashes. At lower levels, that was a lengthy process.

I sighed, standing in one of the church's workrooms, looking at a sword left behind by the cult.

“Not much success?” I heard a voice from the doorway.

I turned to see the pope standing there. He was clearly tired. His eyes had lost some of their liveliness after the political sessions, although the previous dullness was still missing. Well, I could understand—my eyes would probably look as if someone had recently resurrected me if I had spent the entire day on political proceedings.

“No. Not that unexpected, but annoying.”

“A plan set in motion, I suspect, generations ago. I doubt they would fail to account for your ability to track with magic.”

I just groaned in response.

“Your broker’s instincts were good, though. If not for him, the rest would have been trying to knock on that gate before saving what remained of the archive.”

“He’s good. That’s why he’s my broker.”

“I’m almost envious.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Cats giving you trouble?”

“They’re neutral when it suits them. They take sides when it suits them. Although they do seem to have some internal strife going on.” He looked at me with a slight tilt of his head. “Courtesy of your broker, I heard.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Not sure I’d welcome new chaos. I know you have duties as a leader, but new strife is not—”

“I know,” I interrupted him. “I’m not a fan of the church—no offense—”

“None taken.”

“I don’t like the nobles, and I don’t like politics, but I do hate miracle clowns with a burning passion, so no need to worry. I have my priorities, and my violent instincts take center stage.”

“Am I supposed to be reassured by that?”

“They’re directed at the Miracle-Bringers, I can assure you,” I said, locking eyes with the pope.

The man let a shadow of a smile flicker across his lips. “Well, no longer Miracle-Bringers, apparently. They rebranded.”

“Yeah, I saw. Shiny new logo,” I said, thinking of the image of the dark robes with the wide-open eye on them.

“Not only that.” The pope shook his head. “‘The Prophets of the True God,’ some shouted in the battle. Or ‘The Tide.’”

“Very dramatic, although ‘The Tide’ is a bit lame.”

“‘The tide that will wash away all the filth of this world’ was the full version. Although I’m not sure how anyone got that, so it could be hearsay.”

“Oh, well then, I take that back. Very grandiose.”

The pope nodded lightly and turned around, hearing some footsteps from the corridor. “Once we figure out what happened with the archive… I imagine I can count on your cooperation?” he said, any humor nearly gone from his face.

“You can.” I nodded. “Although any price will have to be agreed upon with Q’S—my fortune teller,” I corrected, thinking about the old greedy crow.

The man froze, but then just nodded and turned around, passing Q’Shar’s cat lady in the hallway. She greeted His Holiness and then walked into the small laboratory, carrying the cat in her arms.

“Hehe. Fool, he fell for it. We’ll be rich,” I said in a sing-song voice.

“Fell for what?” Q’Shar asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “How are the politics?”

“Well, your apprentice is much more talented than you. But then again, I’m pretty sure a rock is more talented than you—it wouldn’t start fights without actually being thrown.”

“Yes, it would. You can always trip over it.”

“We’re going back soon,” the cat said, ignoring my response. “I left our legislators with the church. We will have to be back to sign the final agreements, but for now, it’s out of our hands.”

I nodded, happy about going back.

“How’s your work?” the cat asked, seeing the sword upon the rune table.

“Don’t ask,” I answered with a sour expression. “When are we leaving?” I changed the subject.

“In two days. Get your stuff in order.”

“Got it.”

After that, the cat left, and, after looking at the sword, I placed it in the wooden box and closed it. With one last deep sigh, I went away to finish up everything I had to do.

***

My first stop was Luna. She was still in the hospital, as other vampires helped with the power conversion and fed her blood. When I arrived at her room, I noticed changes in her. Her previously sickly skin now looked healthier, with color returning to her lips. The aura was also different—purer—which was rather strange. As I looked down, I saw that the holes in her body had closed without even leaving scars.

“How is she?” I asked William, sitting by the bed.

“Good,” he replied, not taking his eyes off his lover. “She will make it. The injuries have healed, but she is still processing the life power from the blood.”

I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I did check on her after we came back, but the last time I checked, the vampire clan was still running diagnostics using a mixture of technology and magic.

“So it worked out fine.”

“No.” William shook his head with a sour expression. “Now everyone knows about us. This could pose a challenge to her position as her clan’s heir, and to mine as well.”

“By whom?” I frowned.

“We both have siblings, you know.”

“So what? I thought everyone knew about you. You weren’t exactly hiding it,” I said with a chuckle.

“It’s not that.” William snapped, looking at me angrily. “It’s not about what is true or not—it’s about what they can prove! The relationship between clan heads is a serious matter!”

I was taken aback by the shout and could see him deflate slightly after his own words.

“Sorry… I’m tired,” he said. “Until now, it had just been me keeping close contact with the vampire clan. Even if they had seen everything, we could deny it. We can’t now, and I’m not leaving her side just for the right to pretend otherwise.”

“You need anyone dead?” I asked, not sure what to suggest.

William actually smiled despite himself. “At least you didn’t change.” He then met my eyes, seeing my slightly worried face. “Didn’t change much,” he finished in a lighter voice. “No. Thank you. It’s not like we lost the positions. All we need is formal approval for the relationship. Worst-case scenario, I use your name to pressure them.”

“You can use my fist while you’re at it,” I said, giving him a pat on the back. “Don’t worry too much. It’s just a pebble in the road. Get some rest, regain some strength, and kick it aside.”

“Thanks.”

“And if not, I’ll come by and threaten some people. I’m pretty sure Myhur and Bakari are jealous of all the action and raring to go.”

“They came by recently.” William smiled at the memory. “Myhur’s cap actually changed color. He started screaming that the entire forest would sing about him once he rotted if he lived through something like that. God, it was funny to see.”

I smiled, thinking about the sight of a riled-up mycanoid.

Our conversation was interrupted by the vampires coming to check on the patient, so I said my goodbyes and left.

I had one last stop to make before we went back, and that was the Egyptian delegation. With everything going on, I almost forgot about them and the mansion plans I requested before the Sabbath. Their priests were still staying in the Vatican after the attack. I sent an invitation through the cats, as was the custom, and set up a meeting before heading back home.

I entered the meeting room and was greeted by three people from the Egyptian pantheon’s delegation. Two of them were guards wearing modernized ceremonial armor with jackal-shaped sigils of Anubis. They sported spears and greeted me with a nod, standing at attention on both sides of an older priestess. Behind the old woman stood none other than Darius with his massive khopesh, and I had to stifle a laugh seeing that they managed to put him into ceremonial clothing, which barely fit the man. His armor bore the sigils of Sekhmet, and as always, he had his khopesh on his back.

And in the middle stood the representative of Egypt: an old woman with copper-colored skin bearing marks of time—wrinkles as well as a few scars here and there. She had milky-white, shoulder-length bobbed hair falling around her sharp face. Her eyes were cold.

When my father sent me to train at Egypt’s temples, many young acolytes were scared of her because of the look in her eyes, which seemed to freeze the air around her. But her eyes did not match the warm smile on her lips.

There was a reason why I had put off the meeting for some time. Back in the day, there were two morons in the temple who weren’t afraid of her—myself and Darius—and that had… consequences.

“Oh, how you’ve grown,” she said in a tone so at odds with the murder in her eyes that I almost started looking for another speaker in the room. “I still remember when you were running around the tombs trying to pry open every sarcophagus you could find. I had to give you a beating, hehe. I remember it like yesterday.”

“Hmtntr n imn, Olabisi,” I greeted my old teacher with a light bow.

“Ohhh, drop the formality,” she said and moved in for an awkward hug, which, of course, put her guards on edge. I gave the two men an apologetic look and bent down to the old woman.

When my father took me to learn death magic, she was one of my teachers. The priests of Anubis had a very different view of death from my family's battle-and-sacrifice-oriented one. Their concepts were much calmer. The view was closer to a path we all had to take than to an end. It was almost celebratory of death, making them very powerful at summoning and necromancy rather than the sort of attack magic that was much more common after the war.

“I remember the two of you like it was yesterday,” Olabisi continued as she went to sit behind a desk, motioning me toward a chair in front. “You and Darius causing trouble everywhere you went. Two violent little shits. Each time you got whacked over the head with a cane, your father would whine about clan dignity. And I always told him dignity could only be measured on Anubis’s scale.”

The woman kept talking as Darius and I exchanged glances. The man’s hand twitched, as if it were about to go up to protect his cranium from the cane. Muscle memory was a wonderful thing.

“So,” I began, using the pause as the woman sat down. “About the mansion plans. Did Imhotep leave anything behind I could use?”

She nodded lightly, but with a faint frown. “Well, yes, but also no.”

I sat there in silence as she pulled out a copper box with a seal.

“Imhotep’s basic mansion construction was studied by our architects, and he did leave those files for his apprentices, but… sadly, the details were kept secret. You know how dangerous the details of security systems can be.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “But the plans must be somewhere. I didn’t find them among my family’s belongings—”

“They won’t be there,” she cut me off. “He kept all his deep secrets close to his chest. What your family had was the same documentation we have. He kept any plans with his techniques encoded to himself.”

“Wait. So even the families didn’t know the details?”

“They knew everything they needed to operate the mansion and fix any runes or remake them. But the principles and proportions that made them more powerful than those built by others were Imhotep’s secret. One he took to the grave.”

Normally, that would mean they weren’t available. But in the world of death mages…

“So where is his grave?” I asked immediately.

“We are working on that. We are rereading the Sebyat, but so far the tomb remains silent.”

I nodded lightly. “Can I help?”

“I have deep respect for you and your family, Sam, but you are neither a priest of Ra nor one of Anubis. The secrets of the Sebyat and the ancient tombs have to stay with our priests… sorry,” she added with an apologetic tone.

“I understand,” I said. “Once you open it, guarding an expedition isn’t against the rules, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” she said with a smile and pushed the copper box in my direction. “This is all I can give.”

I took it, and as she released the seal, I opened the container. Inside, stacks of papyrus lay. A quick look at one showed that it held architectural designs. This should be enough to lay the foundations and build the house’s skeleton—a livable mansion—but its magical heart was still missing.

After a bit of small talk, I left the room in a hurry to get everything in order.

It was nice to see the old woman. She did have a way of treating others as children, no matter their age. I once even caught her correcting my father as if he were a spoiled brat.

The day was spent finishing up things on our end, and it was finally time to go back. Luna was also being transported with us to her clan, since her coma was expected to last a little longer, while William would go back to secure his spot as the family head. We said our goodbyes for now and boarded the private jet back to the USA. Q’Shar left his legislators at the Vatican and gladly slept through the entire trip back, while I was studying the contents of the papyri, itching to open the box I got from my family's mansion, but waiting until I could bring it back to my workstation.

Once we landed, the cat lazily stretched and told us to go get some rest. Or at least, that was the plan—because a few hours later, he called me to tell me he had received a report that the FBI had launched an investigation into my soul-harvesting activities.

Share