Chapter 59: The Judicator’s Secret

Hay sighed, brushing back the bangs that had grown longer over the past month. A strong feeling that something was amiss settled over him. For Lexa’s senior apprentice to be Stan—it truly was a small world.

If Stan was an Arcavian mage, then his reaching such a high level at a young age wasn’t entirely unfathomable. Arcavia, where one was born into an environment conducive to learning magic, naturally offered a different scale and caliber of education compared to those without such privileges.

“So, did he visit Arcavia yesterday?”

If Stan was an Arcavian mage, inquiring about the Crimson Ember would be foolish.

Hay retrieved all the messages he had received from Hellheim and spread them across the bed. He arranged them in the order they had arrived and began to read.

Initially, Hellheim had claimed he was being hunted and that he was unjustly accused. When asked about Dylan and the Crimson Ember, he had furiously demanded to know who Dylan was, stating that the gem was causing him immense trouble.

Most importantly, while providing information about the Crimson Ember, he had also called it a stolen item.

From this, Hay deduced that a mage named Dylan had stolen the Crimson Ember, and for some unknown reason, Hellheim was being framed and pursued by both Arcavia and Srahanila.

‘If my suspicions are correct, shouldn’t that cursed old man have explained all of this in detail from the start?’

Irritated, Hay immediately picked up a flame message scroll. He quickly jotted down his deductions and burned the scroll over a candle flame, sending the message.

Just then, Renki returned.

Hay tucked the Crimson Ember, which he had been holding, into his pocket.

Renki paid no mind to what Hay was doing, immediately opening the lid of the newly acquired tea caddy.

“Master, the chamomile ran out and will arrive tomorrow. Instead, they had a blend of chamomile, hibiscus, and lemon balm, so I brought some. They say the hibiscus gives it a slight tartness. Would you like to try it? Oh, if you don’t, I also brought jasmine, so you can have that instead.”

“Just give me anything.”

The tea was not his priority. Hay gathered Hellheim’s messages from the bed and stuffed them into his travel bag. His mind felt somewhat muddled.

‘By the way, did Lorelai know this was a stolen artifact?’

“Pardon?”

Renki questioned Hay’s mumbled thought. Hay shook his head, then rose from his seat.

“Renki, forget the tea. Let’s get some chicken.”

He felt he needed to sort out his thoughts over a meal. Renki, who had just been about to scoop tea leaves into a strainer, nodded and put everything away.

****

Descending to the dining hall, the two settled into their usual designated seats and ordered seasoned chicken, beer, and tea for Renki.

The tea and beer arrived first. Taking a sip of the richly hopped beer, Hay fell deep into thought.

To avoid disturbing Hay’s contemplation, Renki remained silent, patiently awaiting their chicken.

Once the chicken arrived, Hay had already finished his second glass of beer by the time he was halfway through his meal.

“Is something troubling you?” Renki asked Hay, who had eaten in silence.

“Not really.”

Hay replied indifferently. Even if something was bothering him, it wasn’t a matter to discuss with a child.

However, Renki, interpreting his response in his own way, looked a little crestfallen.

Glancing at him, Hay inwardly sighed.

“It just means it’s nothing for you to worry about. Don’t fret, and enjoy your chicken.”

He transferred the remaining drumstick to Renki’s plate, just as he was about to order another beer.

It was then that a flicker of flame appeared in the air, signaling the arrival of a message.

It was from Hellheim.

“Is that a message from Lady Lexa?”

“No. The old man.”

“Oh? The old man, you mean your master?”

“Yes. Renki, I need to go. Finish eating and then head up to rest.”

Hay, message in hand, grabbed his staff and went out to the back garden. He sat on a chair and unfolded the message.

The content of Hellheim’s message was exactly as Hay had surmised.

[Did I not tell you yesterday? I’m so frazzled I barely remember what I wrote. I’ve lived a long life, you see. This is what happens when you get old. Sometimes I even forget what I just said. Anyway, as you surmised, kid, I’m currently framed for stealing an artifact and being pursued by Srahanila. Those arrogant snobs must have requested help from Arcavia too, because I’m also being chased by mages. Your master here is absolutely miserable right now. I’ve shaken off the pursuit for now, but I don’t know when they’ll close in again.]

Despite the urgency, Hellheim’s handwriting didn’t appear rushed; it still seemed rather leisurely.

[By the way, this will be my last message. I’ve used up all the flame message scrolls I had. I also need to contact your junior apprentice, but that will have to wait. From now on, I’ll tell you a few things you need to know.]

Hay frowned at the mention of a ‘junior apprentice.’ He hadn’t known he had one. Since this was their first contact since he and Hellheim parted ways, it wasn’t strange to think he might have taught someone else in the interim.

[Firstly, the Crimson Ember has been owned by the Fairy Queen of Srahanila for approximately 200 years. But don’t worry about it. The original owner of the Crimson Ember should be ‘the one who will become the Seed of Sol,’ which the Fairy Queen is not. If you think about it, it’s absurd for them to claim ownership when the Fairy Queen isn’t the Seed of Sol. Just make sure you don’t get caught by those guys, so keep it safe.]

Hay squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. The previous owner of the Crimson Ember was the Fairy Queen? He recalled one of the visions he had seen yesterday when he took the gem from Lorelai: an elf sweeping away demons with the Crimson Ember’s flames. That must have been the Fairy Queen.

“This has become a real headache.”

[Secondly, if you ever find yourself in an unavoidable situation where you must use the Crimson Ember, remember this: use its fire for only a very brief moment. As I said yesterday, nothing good comes from an unqualified person using it.]

‘Should I just throw it away?’

[Thirdly, if you are apprehended by the fairies or mages and it’s taken from you, there’s nothing to be done. However, if anything else tries to seize the Crimson Ember, you must protect it at all costs. It absolutely must not fall into the hands of wicked beings.]

‘Damn it, he’s telling me not to even discard it?’

[That’s all. There isn’t enough space to write any more. I’ll contact you next time, or I’ll come find you once my situation is resolved. Until then, take care.]

That was the end of it.

Hay let out a deep sigh, running a hand over his face.

It seemed things had become thoroughly tangled. He had only ever considered selling the artifact upon receiving it, never anticipating such complications.

At this point, he couldn’t help but question Lorelai. He needed to know if she had given him a stolen item, fully aware of its illicit origin.

Hay immediately left the inn and went to find Lorelai. After he knocked on the door, Lorelai opened it a moment later.

“Mr. Styles? Didn’t you stop by earlier? Stan is sleeping right now.”

“I came to see you, not Stan.”

“Me?”

“I have a few questions.”

Hay pulled out the Crimson Ember and waved it before Lorelai.

“Did you know this was stolen from the Fairy Queen?”

“Stolen?”

Lorelai frowned, as if she had just heard something utterly bizarre.

“Yesterday, your friend told me I’d find out if I asked my master. So I did, and it turns out someone stole this from the Fairy Queen and fled, now being pursued by both Arcavia and Srahanila. That ‘someone’ is probably your friend.”

In truth, it was his framed master who was being pursued, but Hay deliberately omitted any details that might put him at a disadvantage.

Lorelai appeared utterly flustered. There was no pretense in her expression. Though he knew her to be cunning and sharp, her current reaction was undeniably genuine.

“That’s impossible. Dylan never said anything about that!”

“Would a thief admit to being a thief?”

At that moment, Lorelai spun around sharply. She then hurried out of the house, pulling Hay by the hand.

“You said mages and fairies are chasing the culprit, right? Let’s not talk here. Let’s go to the forest and finish our discussion.”

“Stan shouldn’t hear this?”

“If it’s true! Because Stan is…”

Lorelai paused. Hay keenly perceived what she had been about to say.

“Because he’s an Arcavian mage?”

Lorelai’s expression hardened. She looked up at Hay for a moment, then calmly nodded.

“I don’t know how you knew, but yes, he is an Arcavian mage. But he’s not just any Arcavian mage. Let’s move, quickly!”

Lorelai lowered her voice considerably, maneuvering her wheelchair towards the forest path that led from the backyard.

When Hay didn’t immediately follow, she even gestured for him to hurry.

Hay reluctantly followed her.

Lorelai did not venture deep into the forest. Once they were a certain distance from the house, Hay asked,

“What do you mean he’s not just ‘any’ Arcavian mage?”

“Stan is a Judicator. If the Crimson Ember truly is a stolen item, and if the fairies and mages are indeed pursuing the thief, then Stan absolutely cannot find out you possess it.”

“What’s a Judicator?”

“Simply put, they are officials responsible for all crimes within Arcavia or related to Arcavia. In terms of noble rank, they hold a status and authority equivalent to a duke, positioned just below the Archon, the supreme commander, and the Elders, who are the next most powerful figures.”

‘So that’s why. That’s why he didn’t bow his head to the Grand Duke and the Duke of Yefisnon. It wasn’t merely arrogance, but because he had no need to.’

“Huh, our Renki has quite an impressive mage for a master.”

‘But why is such a high-ranking official languishing in a desolate country like this?’

“Then I can just explain the whole situation and hand the Crimson Ember over to Stan, can’t I?”

Hellheim had told him to keep it, but Hay didn’t care. If the Crimson Ember was a bomb, it was better to quickly pass it off to someone else and wash his hands of it. Since he was Lorelai’s brother, a good explanation of the circumstances might earn them some leniency.

“I told you, no!” Lorelai adamantly refused.

“Why not?”

“Even though Stan seems lax, he’s actually quite strict about Arcavian regulations. Regardless of the circumstances, he would follow protocol, arrest us, extradite us to Arcavia, and conduct a formal investigation. I wouldn’t be an exception.”

“So what am I supposed to do? Are you telling me to keep this bomb?”

‘Whose fault is it that I got dragged into this mess?’

Hay closed his eyes tightly, stopping his thoughts there.

It wasn’t entirely Lorelai’s fault. It seemed she hadn’t known either, and Hay himself was to blame for greedily accepting stolen goods, only thinking of the money.

“I’m truly sorry. I never imagined it was a stolen item. And to think it belonged to the Fairy Queen… Dylan explicitly told me that the owner of the Crimson Ember was Mr. Styles.”

“What? What are you talking about now? That *I* am its owner?”

*Crackle—!*

Just then, a sudden crimson lightning bolt streaked between Hay and Lorelai.

Lorelai froze, while Hay instinctively tightened his grip on his staff, ready to retaliate against the attacker. However, upon turning to face the source, Hay hesitated, a wry expression on his face.

“I wondered where you two were hurrying off to, but what exactly did I just hear?”

From between the untrodden trees, Stan emerged silently.

“Why is the Crimson Ember being discussed by the two of you?”