Chapter 71: The Book of Truth

Hay fiddled with his earlobe and bit his lower lip. Stan chuckled at the sight.

“What’s wrong? Did you perhaps lie about something?”

Hay crossed his arms, feigning ignorance, and changed the subject. “More importantly, what exactly is this ‘Book of Truth’?”

“It’s one of Arcavia’s ancient magical artifacts. You’ll find out soon enough.”

They passed through an outdoor corridor with an arched ceiling, emerging into a spacious courtyard. To their left stood a magnificent castle. Stan hastened his steps towards its main gate.

“If one holds this ‘Book of Truth,’ do they end up spouting out the truth to any question asked?”

“Something like that.”

Stan glanced back at Hay, whose fair forehead was deeply furrowed.

“More precisely, only the truth is recorded in that book.”

****

The Archon’s office was located on the seventh floor, the uppermost level of the Arcashandra main building. Due to its lofty ceilings, they had to ascend a great many stairs.

Hay inquired why mages walked instead of using portals, only to be told that portal usage was prohibited within Arcashandra unless it was an emergency. Apparently, several accidents had occurred due to portals, though the specifics of these incidents remained undisclosed.

Sweat beaded on his forehead and the nape of his neck from the climb. He hastily wiped it away and caught his breath, just as Stan finally halted before a door.

“Is this it?”

“Yep.”

“There aren’t any guards.”

“There’s no need for them.”

As Stan moved to knock immediately, Hay quickly seized his hand. He wasn’t quite ready to meet the Archon yet.

This was an audience with Arcavia’s highest authority, and even Hay couldn’t help but feel a surge of nervousness.

“Are there any precautions I should take when meeting the Archon? Any advice on proper etiquette or anything of the sort?”

Stan furrowed his brow, as if Hay had posed the strangest question, then scratched his chin. “Well, there’s nothing much to say. She’s just a normal lady. Arcavia isn’t a class-based society like the outside world, so you don’t need to be so nervous.”

Stan shrugged off Hay’s hand and knocked. There was no reply from within. Yet, the large door swung open on its own accord.

Stan stepped back. “Wait inside, and she’ll be down shortly.”

Hay quietly gazed into the office. In the center of the spacious room stood a rowan wood desk, but no one resembling the Archon was present.

He looked at Stan, who merely gestured with his chin for him to enter. Hay swallowed, squared his shoulders, and stepped inside.

Stan did not follow. The door closed silently behind him, just as it had opened.

Now alone, Hay clenched his jaw and surveyed his surroundings. The right wall of the office was entirely covered with bookshelves. Before them, a large round table stood, devoid of chairs.

The table’s surface was intricately carved with a detailed map of the three continents of Hisaphon, akin to a world map. To the left, an even more expansive area unfolded.

Long fabric sofas, each capable of seating eight, flanked a low table. Beyond them, a fireplace crackled with red flames, licking upwards like tongues.

Above the mantelpiece hung a single portrait. Hay walked towards it. The portrait depicted a woman with vivid green eyes.

Her hair, as pure white as snowflakes, framed a gentle smile. Given its prominence in the Archon’s office, Hay surmised it must be a painting of a renowned figure.

“She is the great figure who discovered this land after the Ancient Magic Kingdom fell.”

Hay had been certain he was alone in the office, yet a middle-aged woman had somehow approached him from behind. Having detected no presence, Hay instinctively recoiled.

Her dark eyebrows and features bore a striking resemblance to the Demonic siblings. Hay realized she was the Archon.

“Arshamond. She was the one who cultivated a new home for mages. The name ‘Arcavia’ itself is a combination of her name and the elven word for peace. What’s interesting is that Arshamond wasn’t a mage; she was a spirit user.”

The woman spoke with a gentle voice, her gaze filled with reverence as she looked at the portrait.

“A spirit user?”

“Yes. And she was a monarch who had contracted with all four of the prominent Great Spirit Kings.”

Hay looked back at the portrait, a hint of surprise in his eyes. He had never before heard of a spirit user who had contracted with all four Great Spirit Kings.

“So, the woman in that portrait is the first Archon?”

“No. This land came to be called Arcavia, and the current system was established after Arshamond’s death, as it grew into a city-state. She united the twelve tribes, who had previously waged war and plundered each other on this small land, forming a council and serving as its long-time chairperson. She’s revered to this day for working with mages to enrich the land and provide a prosperous life.”

The Archon approached Hay, stopping right beside him, and extended her hand. “I am Grena Demonic. You must be Hay Styles, correct?”

Hay nodded, took her hand, and gave it a light shake. “Please, have a seat. Would you care for some tea?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you. If your surname is Demonic…”

“I am Stan’s mother.”

Grena smiled sweetly, withdrew her hand, and gestured towards the sofa. Hay sat down, clasping his staff to his chest.

“I heard you only recently awakened. Are you experiencing any discomfort?”

“I’m fine. I was told my statements would be verified using the Book of Truth.”

“Yes. According to Judge Demonic, all but one of your statements appear to be true.”

“Only one?”

“You stated that you learned the Red Gemstone was a stolen artifact from your master, correct? And that your master was a high-level elven spirit user named Salaad.”

Hay remained silent. As if not expecting an immediate answer, Grena smiled and continued.

“Salaad is an elf I met when my son was young, at a festival in Sirahanila. The Camellia Clan, they are known for their black hair and brown skin. However, Stan mentioned that your master has golden hair and golden eyes. Your servant, that child, apparently spoke of it during a lesson. Were you unaware?”

Hay frowned. ‘Had I ever told Renki about Hellheim’s appearance?’

The answer quickly came to him. He had. Renki had asked him when he was researching the differences between spirit magic, regular magic, and aura mana training methods.

Renki had even scribbled down notes and drawn a stick figure of Hellheim exactly as Hay described him. He had completely forgotten.

“Perhaps I should have just invoked my right to remain silent.”

Hay clicked his tongue inwardly and rolled his eyes.

“I understand your desire to conceal it. If my own master were wanted by both Sirahanila and Arcavia, I would certainly wish to keep it a secret as well.”

“So you already know who my master is.”

“Judge Demonic was certain it was Hellheim. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

Hay exhaled a long sigh, his shoulders slumping. Grena chuckled softly and rose from her seat.

She walked to the portrait, grasped the edge of the frame, and pulled. Behind it lay a metal plate. Grena placed her hand on the plate.

Immediately, a sapphire mana, like the autumn sky, flowed from her and permeated the metal. “Now that I think about it, Mr. Styles, you bear a striking resemblance to Hellheim.”

“I resemble that old geezer?”

Hay asked, his face contorted in a grimace.

“Your recklessness. You summoned Philly and Lana del Rond in the Mirror Labyrinth, didn’t you?”

The metal plate then fragmented like a puzzle, reassembling itself as it parted to either side.

“How did you…”

“I had a feeling that might be the case. Philly and Lana del Rond never appear unless their names are called. Otherwise, they remain in a deep slumber somewhere within the labyrinth, unlike the other guardians who roam about. When Judge Demonic went to find you with the guardians of Lake Dia, and heard that the two guardians were fighting, I knew. Ah, someone must have summoned them.”

A vacant space appeared in the wall. Grena retrieved an old book from it, returned to the table, and placed it down.

“Lana del Rond’s appearance in the labyrinth was likely only the fifth time since the Ancient Magic Kingdom fell. The previous four were during the approximately five millennia when archdemons led their legions to invade Arcavia, and this time, you summoned her.”

Hay opened his mouth, then closed it again.

“I had heard that Hellheim summoned Philly a few times. Perhaps you summoned her for the same reason he did? After all, you and your servant were lost at the time.”

“…That’s right. As we were lost, I couldn’t simply wait for Stan, so I summoned her to find an exit.”

“And when that failed, you summoned a guardian to contend with Philly.”

The conversation felt as though Grena were peering directly into his memories, making Hay uncomfortable.

“That’s where the resemblance lies. Your thoughtless, reckless willingness to put your life on the line, believing that things will somehow work out. The difference between you and Hellheim, however, is that he is strong enough to get away with it, and you are not.”

Grena smiled sweetly and pushed the old book towards Hay. “This is the ‘Book of Truth.’ I’m not sure if Judge Demonic told you, but if I were to ask, ‘What did you eat for breakfast this morning?’, whatever answer you speak, only the truth you know will be recorded in this book.”

“So, even if I were to lie from beginning to end, it would be useless before this book.”

“Of course, the Book of Truth isn’t flawless. It only speaks the truth based on your memories, so if your memory is distorted, a distorted truth will be recorded. That’s why we usually avoid using this book, but this matter is sensitive in many ways.”

Grena crinkled her nose.

“Shall we begin then? Place your hand on the book and close your eyes. You might feel a headache and dizziness while using the Book of Truth. It won’t harm you; it’s merely an unpleasant sensation.”

Hay did as instructed, placing his hand on the Book of Truth. Grena then placed her hand over his.

Grena’s hand was incredibly cold. A moment later, a cool sensation spread from Hay’s palm throughout his body.

“Now, focus on my voice.”

Hay felt as though his body were floating. He tried to open his eyes, but strangely, they wouldn’t. Grena’s voice, murmuring unknown words as if chanting a spell, was monotonously drowsy. Soon, the questions began.

“From this moment, your truth will be inscribed in this book. Let us begin. Hay Styles, recall the moment you first saw the Red Gemstone. Where are you, and what are you doing?”

Then, Hay opened his eyes by the lakeside. Lorelai was holding out the Red Gemstone to him.

‘Would you like to touch it? It’s warm.’