Chapter 51: Lorelai’s Secret Guest

Lorelai returned home, stopping in the middle of her room to stare blankly into space. Her mind felt numb, as if she had been struck hard on the head.

Lorelai idly toyed with the bracelet in her hand. Carved from ivory into bead-like segments, each bead on the bracelet bore a different runic inscription.

This was an accessory infused with the essence of fire, a gift from her master before he left her side in her youth. She had intended to give it to Hay, hoping it would assist him, as she knew he was secretly anxious about his lack of progress in his training.

The constant presence of fire’s energy, she believed, would be useful in enhancing one’s affinity for the fire attribute. Yet, it seemed such minor tricks were utterly unnecessary for him.

Despite languishing in the lowest rank for over fifteen years, he had now ascended three ranks in less than a single year. Countless spirit users spent their entire lives training, only to reach the low rank—a mere step above—or, at best, mid-low rank. To achieve mid-rank in just one year of training was truly astounding.

He was, in every conceivable way, an extraordinary individual.

“How I envy him.”

Given the right catalyst, contracting with Kasa would be effortless for him. With a forlorn expression, Lorelai continued to touch the ivory ornament.

She traced each bead, murmuring the carved runes to herself. Her fingers paused at one specific rune, and she read it aloud.

“Patience.”

She had endured and waited for nine long years. Nine years, all to reclaim what she had lost.

For those who wielded extraordinary abilities, the destruction of one’s Mana Rod was nothing short of a death sentence. And so, Lorelai, the spirit user, had died nine years ago.

‘You don’t need other spirits. All you need is fire.’

‘You, of all people, can become the purest fire in this world.’

‘Lorelai, you will become the greatest being.’

Her master had placed the bracelet in Lorelai’s hand, speaking with an air of absolute conviction. How delighted he had been when she first contracted with Kasa.

Lorelai recalled her master’s smile, a faint curve appearing on her own lips. But the fleeting smile quickly vanished, replaced by a somber expression.

She herself had never doubted that she would achieve such greatness. She had yearned to become the greatest fire spirit user, determined to reach that pinnacle.

Had she not become a servant, had she not lost her Mana Rod, she might have grown significantly as a spirit user by now. Her own Kasa might have evolved into Raon, a higher spirit, remaining by her side in a beautiful form.

Just then, the slightly open window rattled in the breeze. Lorelai, roused from her thoughts, composed herself and closed the rattling window.

As she did, the room plunged into darkness. Lorelai lit a single candle, then moved from room to room, illuminating every candlestick in the house.

Her mind was utterly consumed by the sight she had witnessed that day. Hay’s pale nape, bobbing frantically as he walked, oblivious to her following behind him, swam before her eyes.

‘I wanted to shout “Boo!” and startle him, but I completely missed my chance. Perhaps it would have been better if I hadn’t seen it at all. Then I wouldn’t be feeling this utterly wretched.’

Watching Hay evolve Kelpie into Nyx earlier that day, she had come to a realization. Subtly, she had been mistaken in thinking she and Hay were somewhat alike.

His unwavering effort, his refusal to give up, had seemed to mirror her own nine-year struggle to reclaim Kasa. But no, it was not so at all.

They were not alike in the slightest. They were alive, and she was dead. Hay was enviable.

To feel such jealousy for what others possessed and she did not—how ugly it was.

As Lorelai lit the candles in the hallway, her gaze suddenly fell upon a painting hanging on the wall. It was a depiction of Kasa, as she had last seen him, painted from a place of longing.

It was neither the ‘purest fire’ nor the ‘greatest fire.’ Instead, it was a vile, furious blaze, brimming with hatred and murderous intent—the most hideous flame in the world.

*Fwoosh!* Flames flared before her, and a Flame Message arrived. It was from Stan.

The message stated that he had planned to return early that morning, for which she had woken at dawn to wait, but it seemed he wouldn’t be back until evening. The end of the message was smudged black, as if something had been written and then hastily erased.

[I’ll be there soon. Don’t be alone; go to the inn. Eat something delicious.]

*Knock, knock.*

A knock echoed through the house. Lorelai turned her head to look towards the entrance. There was no one she expected at this hour.

Hay had been awake since early morning for his dawn training, so perhaps it was him. Lorelai composed her melancholy expression and headed for the door.

Without a hint of suspicion, she opened it. Standing at the door was not Hay.

It was a man cloaked entirely in black, from head to toe. Moreover, beneath his hood, there was no face, only a swirling black mist.

Lorelai froze instantly. A strange, oppressive aura prevented her from even daring to ask who he was. The man in black took a step closer.

Lorelai pushed the wheeled chair back. As the man entered, the door closed on its own accord. Slowly, the man lowered the hood that had concealed his head.

****

Perhaps thanks to his increased rank, he could feel his spirit energy rapidly replenishing. The weakness that had made his legs tremble had also subsided.

Hay glanced at the Flame Message clutched in his hand, then turned back towards the inn. Upon entering his room, Hay immediately flung open the wardrobe door.

He rummaged through his luggage, searching for a Flame Message scroll. But the scrolls were nowhere to be found.

He had used them all up recently and completely forgotten to buy new ones. Hay clicked his tongue, irritably sweeping aside the bangs that fell into his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Renki, who had been memorizing basic magic circle formulas, asked with a puzzled expression.

Hay turned to Renki, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He unfolded Helheim’s crumpled message, which was still in his left hand.

[I know how to remove imprints.]

It was too soon to tell Renki about this, as nothing was confirmed yet. First, he needed to contact Helheim.

Hay shoved the Flame Message into his pocket and headed back to the entrance. “I’m just going to the shop for a bit.”

“A shop? It’s too early; nothing will be open yet, surely?” Renki was right.

Hay paused, then thought of Stan. Stan was currently away from home, but that didn’t matter. He could simply ask Lorelai to sell him a few scrolls for urgent use.

“I’m going to Lorelai’s. I’ll be back, anyway.” Hay hastily left the room.

He headed straight for Stan’s house. He knocked on the door, but there was no response from within.

It was early, so she might still be asleep. Just as Hay was about to knock again, the door opened.

Lorelai appeared, her face showing no trace of sleep, indicating she had been awake. “Mr. Styles?”

“Ah, Lorel. I apologize for coming so early, but could I possibly buy some Flame Message scrolls? I have an urgent need for them.”

Lorelai turned her head back with a troubled expression, then gave an awkward, embarrassed smile. “What should I do? I have a guest right now, so it’s a bit difficult.”

‘This early in the morning?’ It was a little puzzling, but whoever had called on her was none of Hay’s concern.

“I apologize for the intrusion. Just a few sheets will do. I truly need to send an urgent message.”

Lorelai hesitated for a moment. Despite mentioning a guest, she glanced back again, seemingly preoccupied, then forced a faint smile.

“Please, come in.” Lorelai stepped aside, allowing Hay to enter. As he stepped into the hallway and the door closed, a profound silence settled over the house.

“Please wait here for a moment. I’ll be right back with them.” Lorelai moved further down the hallway.

Watching her enter Stan’s potion-making room, Hay took a few steps forward. He then stopped before the first door in the hallway leading to the reception room.

A peculiar chill emanated from the slightly ajar door. He heard the spirits nearby whispering.

Though he couldn’t clearly discern their words, he sensed their fear. Hay tentatively reached out to push the door open.

“Mr. Styles.” But before he could, Lorelai returned.

“I’ve only found five sheets right now. Will this be enough?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you. For five sheets, the cost would be…” As Hay reached for his coin purse, Lorelai waved her hand dismissively.

“Later. I was having an important conversation with a friend who’s visiting. You can pay Stan directly when he returns.”

Lorelai seemed eager to send Hay away. Whatever the reason, her haste compelled Hay to reluctantly step back.

“Then I’ll pay you when I come for the healing water at lunchtime.”

“That would be better.” Lorelai offered a gentle smile.

Before turning to leave, Hay cast another glance at the gap in the reception room door. For a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a flash of black fabric.

“See you later.” Lorelai said. Her tone seemed to urge him to leave quickly. Hay turned and exited Stan’s house.

Only after seeing Hay depart did Lorelai open the reception room door and step inside. Stopping opposite the table, she gazed with a hardened expression at the small box resting upon it.

“Where were we?”

****

Returning to the inn, Hay immediately picked up a quill and hastily scribbled a short message onto a Flame Message scroll. He thought of Helheim, lit the scroll, and sent it, but no reply came, neither after breakfast nor even after lunch.

‘That rotten old geezer. Is he reading it and ignoring it?’

Yet, upon reflection, it was possible someone was playing a trick on him. His master had never sent him a single message in nearly twenty years.

And now, a sudden reply? Hay didn’t even know Helheim’s handwriting, so he couldn’t be sure it was truly his master’s message.

But to call it a prank—there was no one he knew who would play such a trick. Hay sat in the guest lounge, sipping tea and lost in deep thought.

Across from him, Renki was memorizing the day’s set of runes. Hay quietly watched him, then suddenly reached out and pointed to one rune.

“What does this one mean?”

“Passion,” Renki replied instantly. Bored, Hay pointed to another rune.

“And this one?”

“Patience.”

By the way, Lorelai should have arrived by now, but she hadn’t. On days when Stan was absent or couldn’t cook, she would often come to the inn for meals, but not today.

“Is she still with her guest?”

“Guest?” Hay shook his head, dismissing it as nothing. ‘She’ll come when she comes. I just need to drink it before the evening is over.’

Perhaps because he had just eaten, a heavy drowsiness began to wash over him. Hay eventually stood up.

“Let’s go up. I need to get some sleep.”

“See? You’re tired, aren’t you? It’s because you’ve been overdoing it with your training.”

“No, it’s just a food coma.” Renki rolled his eyes, gathered his belongings, and followed Hay to his feet.

Hay pondered how he would tell Renki about his rank increase and Kelpie’s evolution into a higher spirit. Though Nyx didn’t look like a dragon, Renki might still be shocked speechless upon seeing the dragon-like creature.

Imagining Renki’s terrified reaction to Nyx, Hay returned to his room. He was just debating whether to take a nap and then eat dinner, or to evolve Thea first before returning.

*Knock, knock, knock!* Someone pounded urgently on the door. Renki scurried over and asked who it was.

“Open the door.” The rigid voice belonged to Stan. ‘When did he get back?’

As Renki opened the door, Stan strode in. Hay’s eyes widened, and he sat up, noticing that Stan was not in his usual shirt and trousers, but rather in opulent mage’s robes.

His hair was even neatly styled. Anyone would think he had just returned from a social gathering.

“Did you just come from a date?”

“A date? Don’t be ridiculous.” Stan scanned the room, then spoke.

“Do you know where Lorelai went?” Hay blinked. ‘How would I know that?’