Chapter 64: The Last Watchman

Hay Styles deactivated his ‘Wind Walk’ and landed on the ground.

Water dripped from his drenched body, darkening the ground as it fell.

Like the forest he had just left, this place was utterly devoid of color.

No presence stirred in the surroundings. Only the mournful howl of the wind echoed.

“Sylph.”

“Peep!”

Summoned by Hay’s call, Sylph performed a somersault above his head before settling gently onto his shoulder. They then rubbed their head against him, much like a cat seeking affection.

Hay gently scratched Sylph’s chin, his expression grave as he spoke.

“See if Renki and the others are anywhere nearby.”

Sylph tilted their head, their eyes seeming to convey a sense of futility.

“Please look anyway, just in case.”

After a brief moment of apparent contemplation, Sylph nodded. They then pushed off Hay’s shoulder, soaring into the air before disappearing from sight.

Hay sighed, then began to walk, scanning his surroundings. He had taken only a few steps when he spotted a castle looming beyond a crumbling building.

Its Gothic architecture was characterized by strikingly tall spires.

The drawbridge hung half-lowered, frozen in place.

This desolate city, he mused, might once have been the capital of an ancient magical kingdom.

****

“Peep!”

Sylph returned, their speed surprising him.

Landing on Hay’s head, Sylph chirped a report to him, the outcome predictably clear.

‘No one is here,’ they seemed to say.

“Truly no one? Not Renki? Not Stan or Lorelai?”

“Peep!”

Hay’s face fell in disappointment. It appeared he had been stranded alone in this desolate place.

‘Do not separate by more than three paces.’

Stan had explicitly warned them.

Yet, heartbreakingly, in a last-ditch effort to evade Belgadon with the exit in sight, he had become separated from Stan.

Had that separation caused him to be transported elsewhere?

Hay idly clenched and unclenched the hand that had held Renki’s wrist. Perhaps Renki, too, had been transported to some unexpected, solitary location.

‘Would the child be alright alone?’ he wondered. ‘I hope they are safe.’

Hay looked down at the Master’s Mark on his wrist.

If anything befell Renki, a ‘loss effect’ indicating the disappearance of a servant would manifest on this mark. He desperately hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

More importantly, this was no time to fret over others.

Hay surveyed the crumbling city, a heavy sigh escaping him.

“Peep-ya?”

Sylph descended from his head, settling on his shoulder, and seemed to ask, ‘What now?’

“I’m already thinking about it.”

To escape this place, he needed to find an exit, yet he possessed no compass.

A sudden wave of irritation washed over him.

Arcavilla—a place where outsiders dared not venture without a guide.

Having simply followed the Archmage Stan without much concern, he had never once imagined such an accident would befall them.

He couldn’t deny his own complacency.

Between the Ruby incident and this, he wondered why so many unfortunate events had plagued him in just a few days.

At the very least, he now understood perfectly why Arcavilla had designated this place as a transit route.

With such inherent dangers, no other nation would dare attempt an invasion of Arcavilla.

This labyrinth was home to the Watchmen who had played a part in the Magic Kingdom’s demise.

By designating this as a passage and making it impossible to navigate without a guide possessing a compass, who would dare attempt an invasion?

When he finally reached Arcavilla and prepared to leave, he resolved to inquire about any available sea or sky routes.

He wasn’t sure if they would inform him, but he knew one thing: once he left this place, he never wanted to return.

He had been foolish to dismiss the Mirror Labyrinth as inconsequential.

“By the way, I was told we had to find the exit within six hours.”

What would happen if those six hours passed?

An hour had already flown by, leaving him with less than five.

Hay lamented his lack of a timepiece, unable to gauge precisely how much time remained.

It seemed Arcavilla had clocks; if he ever made it there, he resolved to buy one, no matter the price.

“Peep! Peep-ya!”

Suddenly, Sylph began to stamp their feet and flap their wings frantically.

Following Sylph’s agitated gaze, he spotted a lone figure in the distance.

It was a resident, its form bizarrely contorted: chin pointed upwards, the crown of its head facing the ground, and its feet bent unnaturally backward.

Clad in a tattered tunic that appeared flat from both front and back, its gender was impossible to discern.

Hay paused, his intent to eliminate the resident suddenly checked.

The resident showed him no interest whatsoever.

Its fists were clenched, moving with a rhythmic, sweeping motion, as though it held something in both hands.

It resembled someone meticulously sweeping the ground with a broom.

That resident was not the only one.

Hay then noticed another resident moving alone in a nearby alley.

It paced back and forth in front of a building, seemingly conversing with someone, much like a street vendor hawking their wares.

A small resident, resembling a child, suddenly darted out from somewhere and ran past Hay.

None of them showed any interest in Hay, a stark contrast to their behavior when he first entered the Mirror Labyrinth.

‘Is it because I don’t have a compass?’

Still, an unsettling feeling lingered within him.

Hay quickly departed from the area.

After walking for some time, Hay halted, surveying his surroundings. No presence stirred in this place.

“Sylph, are there any residents nearby?”

Sylph shook their head.

Hay used his ‘Wind Walk’ skill to ascend onto a building’s roof.

Perched on the sloping roof, he gazed out at the bleak urban landscape.

From this elevated vantage point, the entire city stretched out before his eyes.

Nowhere within his sight could he discern the forest where he had last been with his companions.

He must have been transported to an entirely different region.

If he was truly lost within the labyrinth, waiting for Stan seemed the most prudent course of action for now.

After all, weren’t children taught to wait patiently in one place if they got lost or separated from their parents?

“If any residents or anyone else approaches, let me know.”

“Peep-ya!”

Hay entrusted Sylph with maintaining vigilance, then lay back casually on the roof, closing his eyes.

Despite his exhaustion, sleep eluded him, likely a consequence of his heightened tension.

Even he, with his usual indifference, wasn’t so careless as to fall asleep in such a place.

When he opened his eyes some time later, Sylph, surprisingly, was curled up beside him, softly purring in their sleep.

This was odd, as spirits shouldn’t be able to fall asleep.

Hay reached out, gently stroking Sylph’s finely folded wings with his fingertips. He knew he would have to evolve Sylph tomorrow.

He considered practicing spirit communication while waiting for Stan but decided against it.

There were hardly any spirits in this place. He could only faintly sense the presence of earth and wind spirits.

Attempting to train here would be utterly pointless.

“To think there’s a place in this world utterly devoid of spirits.”

After staring blankly at the lightless sky for a long while, Hay rose to his feet.

He decided to abandon the idea of waiting for Stan.

Waiting indefinitely for someone who might not even come felt foolish, especially given his unknown time limit.

Crucially, there was still no ‘loss effect’ on his mark, meaning Renki was safe.

Rather than idly wait, he needed to push forward, find an exit, and locate Renki before it was too late.

Though he wasn’t a mage and couldn’t cast a compass spell, there was one method to find an exit—the one Hellheim had told him about.

‘The Mirror Labyrinth has a single sentient being. One of the Watchmen, a magic swordsman of the Magic Kingdom who volunteered to become a Watchman, and the only human.’

Philly, the last Watchman.

‘Through them, you can exit the labyrinth.’

Hay assessed his remaining spiritual power. It was substantial, but not exactly abundant. As if sensing Hay’s intentions, Sylph, who had been dozing, lifted their head.

“Peep?”

Hay gently stroked Sylph’s fluffy head before deactivating their summoning.

“Go back and rest.”

Watching Sylph dissipate into the wind, he uttered another name.

“Philly.”

Suddenly, someone walked across a nearby roof, approaching Hay.

Hay brushed off his posterior, stood up, gripped his staff firmly, and turned to face the newcomer.

The figure, dressed in a long bliaut, appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary woman.

Her long, coiled hair cascaded down her back past her shoulders. In the desaturated, monochromatic labyrinth, it appeared black.

She certainly didn’t look like a magic swordsman.

“How amusing.”

A lighthearted voice flowed from the woman’s lips. Hay stared at her silently.

“I thought that foolish elf had called me, but it’s a different child. Little one, why have you called me? Do you even know who I am?”

‘That foolish elf’ likely referred to Hellheim.

‘Little one?’ Outwardly, the woman looked four or five years younger than Hay. Yet, considering she was an ancient being from thousands of years ago, he couldn’t exactly argue with the title.

“I heard you were a magic swordsman who chose to become a Watchman to prevent the kingdom’s downfall.”

“Oh, so you do know.”

“I also heard that I could find an exit through you.”

“That’s right. I know all the exits in this place. But who told you that?”

“That foolish elf.”

Philly burst into laughter.

“It seems you know that foolish elf.”

“I am that fool’s disciple.”

“Indeed, the fool’s disciple. Did you call me to tell you the way out?”

“Yes. Can you tell me?”

“There’s no reason I can’t, but wouldn’t it be rather dull if I just told you?”

Philly shrugged, then turned and gracefully leaped off the roof. As she landed below, her clothes changed dramatically, now replaced by a suit of armor that covered her entire body, save for her head.

“Then what must I do for you to tell me?”

Hay followed Philly, descending to the ground beside her. He had not expected Philly to simply comply from the start.

Considering what Hellheim had done to summon Philly and find an exit, Hay knew he, too, would have to offer something in return.

Philly began to walk, her gaze fixed on the castle.

“It reminds me of when that young, foolish elf first called me. That fool always came here without a compass or a guide mage, calling for me to show him the exit. At first, it was utterly preposterous. I am this land’s Watchman, am I not? A Watchman’s duty is to repel or eliminate intruders, so for him to dare call me, fearless, I thought he must be insane. Initially, I intended to give him a severe scolding and chase him away, but that fool made me an offer.”

Philly stopped, turning to look at Hay, who was following her.

“He said that living an eternal life, trapped here for so long, must be incredibly boring, and he would provide me with entertainment if I, in turn, showed him the exit.”

Expectation gleamed in her deep, gray eyes. Hay suddenly wondered what color those eyes had originally been.

“In our first encounter, that foolish elf courageously challenged me. Naturally, he lost. But I didn’t kill him. It was quite an enjoyable duel, so I showed him the exit as promised. In our second meeting, perhaps weary from our fight, he recounted fascinating tales from the outside world. In our third, he taught me a dice game. In our fourth, he challenged me to a duel, asking me to gauge how much stronger he had become. I still won, of course, but it was a satisfying fight. And in our fifth, he spoke at length about his disciples.”

Philly was now standing directly in front of Hay.

“What kind of enjoyment will you offer me? A story? Or a novel game? Or perhaps, will you fight me?”

‘Did he really need to fight?’ Hay wondered.

He shrugged.

“Let’s start with a story.”

However…

“Your story is dreadfully dull.”

He received a harsh critique moments later.