Chapter 72: The Archon’s Secret and Lorelai’s Plight

“I have concluded my questions. Mr. Styles, you may open your eyes now.”

At Grena’s words, Hay took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He immediately withdrew his hand from the ‘Book of Truth’, his face contorted in a grimace.

His back was drenched in cold sweat, as if he had just woken from a nightmare. His stomach churned with a deeply unpleasant sensation.

“Feeling a bit unwell, aren’t you? It’s strange; it always happens when one uses the Book of Truth. I imagine it’s due to that unsettling sensation of having one’s mind probed. I also had the opportunity to use the Book of Truth once when I was young, after a mishap, and my head throbbed as if it would split open.”

“This feels truly awful.”

“I’m sure it does.”

Grena chuckled softly, setting the book aside before rising from her seat. She returned shortly with a tea set, retrieved from a cupboard.

“I’ll prepare you a cup of tea. It’s a calming blend that I often drink myself when I’m feeling overwhelmed. It has a strong, bitter taste, but it should help settle your stomach afterward.”

Hay ran a palm down his face.

“Is it all over now?”

“It will be, once we confirm that what’s recorded in the Book of Truth matches your statement, Mr. Styles.”

“I wish to return quickly.”

“Return where? To Cheaf?”

Hay’s lips parted slightly.

He had intended to say he wanted to go home, but then he realized he had no home to return to. Instead, he gave a perfunctory nod.

“If my innocence is proven, may I leave immediately?”

“Others are desperate to sightsee when they come to Arcavilla, yet you seem eager to depart.”

“I didn’t come for pleasant reasons.”

“That’s true enough.”

Grena fetched water and filled the teapot. It seemed to possess the same function as the one at Saila Inn; she simply poured in the water and closed the lid.

“Shall we check while the water boils?”

Grena picked up the Book of Truth and opened it. Within its pages, the truth based on Hay’s memories would be recorded.

She had only asked questions pertaining to when he first saw the Crimson Stone and just before his departure for the Mirror Labyrinth. It should have revealed that everything was true, save for his concealment regarding Hellheim. However, Grena’s expression hardened as she rapidly flipped through the pages.

“Is there a problem?”

Hay asked, his palm sweeping across his clammy neck.

“This is strange.”

“What is it?”

Grena held the open Book of Truth out to Hay. To his astonishment, it was inscribed with Hangul.

It was Korean, in fact. Hay’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“This is…”

“Do you recognize this language?”

Hay shook his head.

It was a lie, but admitting he knew it seemed like a terrible idea. The moment he did, he would have to explain the script, which would be bothersome.

“How peculiar. It shouldn’t be recorded in a language you don’t know, Mr. Styles.”

“Well, I’ve never seen this script before.”

Grena tilted her head, a hint of confusion on her face.

“It’s typically written in the language most familiar to the user. Are you certain you don’t know it? Did you never learn such a language as a child?”

“No, I haven’t. I only learned Materian recently.”

“Is that so?”

Grena regarded Hay with a skeptical gaze.

Hay subtly averted his eyes, looking instead at the teapot that was beginning to simmer. He hoped his evasion seemed natural.

“Well, it can’t be helped. It’s not entirely unheard of. I mentioned I used the Book of Truth when I was young, didn’t I? That was when I was deeply immersed in studying Enochian… Oh, do you know what Enochian is?”

“I’ve heard it’s the language used by angels and demons.”

“Precisely. The languages most familiar to me were Materian and Runes, but I was heavily researching Enochian at the time. As a result, Enochian was unexpectedly recorded in the Book of Truth, and the previous Archon had quite a struggle deciphering my statement. Perhaps, Mr. Styles, you also encountered this language in your youth. It’s highly probable that it manifested unconsciously.”

“In that case, how will you verify my statement?”

“Arcavilla has scholars who research not only Runes, Elvish, and Enochian but also the languages of various minor races. We’ll have to entrust the deciphering to them.”

Hay squeezed his eyes shut.

Unless there was a Korean among those scholars who had reincarnated here, just like him, the truth written there would never be deciphered.

“What if they can’t decipher it?”

“Then we’ll simply have to believe that your statement, Mr. Styles, is the truth.”

“And my disposition? Stan mentioned that once my statement was verified, you would decide my fate.”

“There will be no disposition.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Hay asked, wondering if he had misheard.

“My initial reason for summoning you and Lorelai to Arcavilla wasn’t solely to verify your statements. In the event that circumstances revealed either of you were concealing Hellheim’s whereabouts or aiding his escape, simply because he was your mentor, I intended to hand you both over, along with the Crimson Stone. Alternatively, I might have persuaded you to cooperate in Hellheim’s capture. But my thoughts have changed.”

Grena paused to gather her breath, then continued.

“To be precise, I will cover up this incident.”

“Cover it up? Is that permissible?”

“Hardly. But it won’t be bad news for you, Mr. Styles. You may not be aware, but Arcavilla is pursuing Hellheim because Sirahanila requested our assistance. They said, ‘An escaped convict fled with an artifact. Please help.’ There was no mention of helping them recover the artifact.”

Once the water boiled, Grena opened the teapot lid and inserted a strainer filled with various tea leaves.

“The Fairy Queen was so ashamed of having the artifact stolen from her neck that she even concealed the fact that the stolen item was the Crimson Stone. We knew this, yet we pretended ignorance.”

Grena offered a brief laugh, her gaze fixed on Hay.

“However, the moment the Fairy Queen asked for our help, the Crimson Stone was discovered. And it was found in the hands of the escaped convict’s two disciples. Lorelai claims she received it from a wizard friend named Dylan, but the circumstances paint a clear picture: ‘Hellheim stole the artifact and passed the Crimson Stone to his disciples through an accomplice.’ If this fact becomes known to Sirahanila, they will undoubtedly consider both of you accomplices and impose appropriate punishment.”

In such a scenario, Hay and Lorelai faced a high probability of immediate execution or lifelong imprisonment.

“Frankly, from my perspective, there’s no need for me to shoulder this troublesome burden for a niece with whom I share no blood. As I said earlier, if the evidence of complicity were to surface, it would be far simpler to hand you over to the fairies. Stan, who practically raised Lorelai, would struggle with it, though.”

“If such an easy option exists, why did you change your mind?”

“Because a niece with whom I share no blood saved my son. I felt compelled to rescue her just this once.”

Hay frowned, but before he could ask another question, Grena continued.

“For that reason, the Crimson Stone incident will be covered up.”

Grena spoke cheerfully as she picked up the teapot.

“You told that servant child, Mr. Styles, that you were going on a ‘field trip to Arcavilla,’ didn’t you? Consider it that way. Both of you came to Arcavilla by Stan’s invitation. That’s all you need to know.”

She poured the roughly steeped tea into a cup and offered one to Hay. However, he made no move to touch it.

“What did you mean about Lorelai saving Stan?”

Grena remained silent for a moment, instead exhaling a long, slow breath. After a brief pause, the Archon spoke.

“When you and Renki were lost, Mr. Styles, Stan was reportedly confronting Belgadon. He sustained injuries and lost consciousness. It was then that Lorelai took up the Crimson Stone in Stan’s stead, fought Belgadon, and protected him.”

Hay’s mouth opened in surprise, then closed again.

“Was Lorel injured?”

“Are you aware that the more one uses the Crimson Stone, the more their Mana Rod burns out, and the closer they become to a spirit?”

Grena took a sip of her tea.

“I’ve heard as much from my master.”

“Lorelai, being a fire spirit user, seems to be undergoing the transformation at a rapid pace.”

“Is the spirit transformation progressing?”

“Examination results show that half of her Mana Rod has already burned away. Even though we’ve kept the Crimson Stone far from Lorelai, her Mana Rod continues to burn. This problem stems from the Crimson Stone’s flames remaining unextinguished within Lorelai’s body. If this continues, she will either die or become a spirit.”

Hay leaned back against the sofa, lacing his fingers together. He recalled his fight with Lorelai by the lakeside a few days prior. He also remembered what Lorelai had said before that.

‘Lorelai didn’t want to become a spirit.’

“Which brings me to this: separate from the current matter, I have a request for you, Mr. Styles.”

“If you’re going to ask me to heal her Mana Rod with spring water, it’s useless. It’s impossible.”

“That’s right. A Mana Rod cannot be repaired. However, the flames of the sun remaining within Lorelai’s body might be extinguished by that power. It might not work, but we must at least try.”

“Let me ask one thing. What will you do if I refuse this request and state that I will leave immediately with my servant?”

“Given that I’m covering up the Crimson Stone incident, how could I possibly prevent a guest from departing?”

Hay looked down at his hands, doing a quick calculation.

If he left immediately, what would happen to Renki’s lessons? If Lorelai was in such a state, it seemed unlikely Stan would return to Popenini Hill.

Perhaps Renki’s magic lessons would be interrupted indefinitely. They had said no refunds under any circumstances, but that was no concern of his.

Should he demand they return the money and find Renki another teacher? Yet, upon reflection, Hay’s contract with Lorelai hadn’t ended either.

The healing water he was to provide for 100 days remained for as long as Renki’s lesson period. Despite several frustrating developments, this place offered the optimal environment for Renki’s studies.

Moreover, there were many mages here.

After a moment of further consideration, Hay met Grena’s gaze with a calm expression.

“First, I’d like to see how Lorelai is doing.”

****

They arrived through a portal into a small forest.

A modest building stood there, pristine white like all structures in Akashandra.

In front of it, a mage in a black robe was squatting, cutting and eating fruit with a knife. Upon seeing Grena, he rose and bowed respectfully.

“Please, come in.”

Grena opened the door and ushered Hay inside first.

The interior of the house appeared ordinary. There was no sign of life, making Hay wonder if Lorelai was truly here.

Grena led the way down the hallway, then opened a closet door beneath the stairs. Inside, shelves lined the walls, laden with various odds and ends.

Grena placed her hand on the narrow closet floor and uttered a short incantation.

Blue streaks of mana light pulsed across the floor, as if drawing a pattern.

Soon, the floor sank deeply, revealing a staircase. As Grena spread her palm, an orb of light floated up, illuminating the dark descent.

“Follow me. Be careful, it’s dark.”

Grena said, then descended the stairs first.

As they followed the spiral staircase downwards, their footsteps echoed heavily along the curving walls.

The stairs were longer than expected. At their end lay an entrance without a door.

The moment he stepped inside, Hay halted abruptly.

Lorelai was encased within a large glass tank, clad in a white tunic.

Submerged in water and unconscious, her body emanated a fiery red glow that looked intensely hot.

The aura of a fire spirit permeated the space, even without a single candle lit.