“And what happens there?”

“He erases memory.”

“It’s a pity,” said Kors, upset.

“But I remembered a little last time, and I can roughly imagine how everything happens.”

“How?!”

“He’s got a big throne room down there, huge. He sits on the throne, next to his unclean bitch. They are like a king with a queen. And the unclean and all sorts of beings from other worlds come to him, bow down. He is not very simple, our Demon, and he is respected. When I first saw this, I was amazed. I was kneeling beside his throne. He simply puts or places his slaves next to him. I'm sure he put us in the same order as the fingers of a fist: me, Karina, you, Arel, and showed everyone.”

“You're right! I had some similar memories, everything is so… I very vaguely remember… I remember the presence, Karina is near, but I don't remember Arel, although I have to stand between them.”

“Last time he sat Arel at his feet right next to the throne. And I was on the side of the throne.”

“What else do you remember?”

“Nothing good, Kors. Then they have fun in another large room, everything is in carpets and pillows. They are having an orgy. They fuck their slaves and swap them. Or they force slaves to fuck each other for the amusement of others. They could do whatever they wanted with us.”

“But they could not have done? The demon said that he would not give us to anyone.”

“Then why did he erase our memory?”

“He explained, because of creatures too alien for us.”

“Soothe yourself with this, yes…”

“I admit that we were on our knees at his throne, and he boasted of us, as he always does, but the fact that he gave us to be torn apart by his spider-like unclean – no!”

“Kors, don't be a naive idiot, eh?”

“Alis… but why are you starting again?! Is it possible to talk to you normally for more than five minutes?”

“If you don't like it, don't talk!”

“I am tired of your arrogant tone and insults!”

“I don’t give a fuck what you are tired of.”

“I don’t intend to endure your rudeness any longer!”

“Yes, you endured in life, Kors,” the Lis laughed, “he does not intend to endure, look.”

“Alis… I warn you one last time, change your tone, otherwise I will not answer for myself!”

Lis put out his cigarette and looked defiantly at Kors with his yellow eyes:

“And what will you do to me? Well?”

“The demon only tried in vain, ennobled your disgraceful appearance, inside you remained the same uneducated red-haired half-blood!”

“And you are still haunted by my appearance. You don't think I notice how with a disgruntled face you always look at me. Are you jealous?”

“Pf… what am I jealous of? Your peasant roots?”

“Or do you like me now? Do you want to suck on my peasant root?”

Kors’ hands involuntarily clenched into fists, but he restrained himself and, turning away with a contemptuous look, went to the exit from the living room.

“It's all? And where are you going, old fuck?”

“Well, that's enough for me!” And, before reaching the door, Kors turned sharply and rushed at Lis, who seemed to be just waiting for this. They clashed fiercely, and Kors was no longer the noble black who had been struck by the poke of a half-blood commoner. He was embittered by previous humiliations and now made it clear that he also knew how to defend himself and fight for his place under the sun. He – Vitor Kors – was a true black, despite the nobility and spoiledness from a prosperous, calm life, he was still not a weakling and not a rag about which anyone with brute force would wipe their feet. Throwing away all his good manners and no longer thinking about them, he beat with all his might and was in no way inferior to Lis. They rolled on the floor, grappling like two animals, like two commoners from the filthy pub in the Lower City. Kors was taller and stronger physically, because initially he grew up and lived in more favorable conditions, and Lis was still weakened and didn’t fully recover after being healed. Moreover, Kors rejected all the rules and decency, letting go of his nature, which had long demanded an exit and from the inability to respond to the Demon's humiliation only accumulated, now reaching a boiling point and exploding. Karina realized with horror that her father was killing her Lis, and he couldn’t do anything, obviously underestimating the enemy. But she didn't know how to intervene. Kors threw Lis away so that he crashed into a wall with shelves, knocking them down, and old books and bottles of some kind of potions and dye rained down on him. They smashed against the stone floor with a clang, splattering Lis with specks of paint. A massive brass candlestick was the result of their fight, falling down from above and hitting Lis right on the top of the head, so that Lis lost consciousness.