Chapter Fifty-Seven: Epilogue (Part Two)

On Purgatory Island, walking amidst the ruins and shattered remnants, Raschel’s expression was solemn.

Was this the place where the Imperial Grand Alchemist Haines forged weapons for the empire?

“Lord Chackley, may I ask when exactly you discovered the situation here?” Raschel asked gravely.

“Eight days ago at noon, I came to Purgatory Island with my men. There was no one at the port, which felt odd. I led a few people to the castle to see what had happened…”

“And then you found all this before us?”

“Yes.”

“Did you touch anything here?”

“No,” Chackley replied with certainty. “Although I’m not… an investigator, I know how to proceed. After seeing the situation, we returned immediately to find you. The journey from Deep Harbor to Purgatory Island is truly far, but we pushed ourselves and managed to cut it down to two and a half days.”

“Lord Chackley, if you wish to call me a bloodhound or lapdog, I won’t mind at all,” Raschel said with a smile.

He approached a corpse, examining the state of decomposition closely, and remarked, “The incident occurred between fifteen and twenty days ago.”

Then he rose and continued to observe the surroundings, adding, “All the magical cages have been opened, their crystal energy completely depleted. Judging from the destruction, almost all the damage was caused by magical beasts and that giant troll automaton lying there now—there’s no sign of external invasion. It’s clearly an inside job, and premeditated at that.”

Chackley breathed a sigh of relief. His greatest fear had been that a rival nation had discovered the island, sent agents to destroy everything, and stolen all the results. Now, it seemed this was not the case.

Raschel continued searching the ruins, pointing at a charred pillar: “Before it fell, this was Haines’ alchemy tower, where he lived and worked?”

“Yes,” Chackley replied.

“It burned before it collapsed—a fire started on the first floor, but clearly didn’t spread. Can you tell me what was on the first floor?”

Chackley’s expression darkened: “The library—all records of alchemy were kept there.”

“Now they’re gone,” Raschel said coldly.

He paced, inspecting every corner, casually deducing details of the event as he went. It was clear he was a sharp, capable man.

Standing before Haines’ corpse, surveying the magical spirits strewn about and Haines’ own gutted body, Raschel shook his head and sighed. “It appears this alchemy master suffered the same agony as his test subjects—not only him, but his apprentices and assistants as well. Before he died here, he must have confronted the perpetrator face to face. Yes, it was here… I suspect they exchanged words, and the result: the killer escaped and Haines died.”

Raschel looked up at Chackley: “You’re familiar with the island’s inhabitants, aren’t you? I noticed you and your men are uneasy. I wonder… perhaps you know who did this? I mean, there must be a missing corpse—someone you know well.”

Chackley inhaled deeply: “Mr. Raschel, you’re very clever. Yes, there’s a missing body—someone we know intimately.”

“Who?”

“Shui Gleil.”

“What was his background?”

“An assistant.”

“An assistant? Why would he do this? Look, this was once a castle, now a wasteland. To take it down would require at least a full army. If he wanted to leave the island, why such violence? If he didn’t want to stay, as an assistant he could have left by gentler means.”

Chackley glanced at Bailey, the fourth-level warrior, who was trembling in fear but managed to answer, “He was once a servant, but due to his outstanding performance, he became an apprentice, then Haines’ assistant.”

“Ah, so that’s how it was,” Raschel nodded knowingly and snapped his fingers. “Then I think we’ve found a motive, haven’t we?”

Chackley and his men swallowed hard. “Yes, I think so.”

“I recall there’s also a Star Warrior named Lancelot?”

“He lives by the lake.”

“Let’s go take a look.”

At the lakeside, Raschel saw the teleportation array.

He nodded. “Now we know how Shui Gleil left. If I’m not mistaken, this is a teleportation array… By the Light, who created it?”

Chackley replied helplessly, “He did it himself.”

Raschel was surprised. “No wonder he became Haines’ assistant. How long did he work here?”

“Less than four years.”

“Then he’s a genius.”

Chackley couldn’t help but add, “I’m more concerned about where Lancelot is. Did he participate in this, did he betray the empire?”

“No, absolutely not. I must say Lord Lancelot should be grateful I’m investigating. I’m not the type who makes baseless accusations. Though he isn’t here, and we haven’t found his body, I’m sure he didn’t act with Shui Gleil.”

“Why?”

“First, at the castle, I found no evidence of a Star Warrior’s involvement. All the destruction was caused by magic, brute force, and magical beasts. This means Lancelot did not act in the castle, and even if he did, he certainly didn’t use battle energy. The traces left by battle energy are entirely different from those of magic—on this, I’m an expert.”

“Please continue.”

Raschel said, “The cabin is tidy, with many essentials neatly organized, and not taken away. In fact, they’re arranged as if ready for someone’s return. I even saw some tempting desserts preserved in ice. This suggests the Star Warrior intends to return and enjoy them again. If you were fleeing after murder, would you do that?”

Chackley nodded in understanding.

Raschel pointed at the teleportation array. “And this—though I don’t understand its workings, from the crystal dust, it’s clear energy crystals power it. Interestingly, I see thirty-eight large crystal slots, yet there are at least forty or fifty piles of crystal dust. What does this mean?”

“It means the array was activated twice,” Chackley answered quickly.

“Exactly. Lord Chackley, you now have the answer, don’t you? Let’s think: for some reason, Lancelot used the array to leave first, and then everything else happened… Was it coincidence or premeditation?” Raschel pondered, then asked, “Perhaps the simplest deduction can tell us. If Lancelot hadn’t left Purgatory Island, do you think he could defeat the giant troll automaton?”

“Absolutely. No matter how powerful, it’s just a magical construct. Individual constructs are never much—if I were here, I could defeat it. Maybe I lack its strength, but I have wisdom and skill.”

Raschel nodded. “Right, so if the killer wanted to do all this, Lancelot’s presence was a major obstacle. Before acting, he had to remove that obstacle. It seems Lancelot was lured away by the perpetrator. Yes, only lured…”

He crouched, studying the array. “This is a very cunning individual. Not only did he lure Lancelot away, destroy the castle, and kill Haines and Andrew, but before leaving, he sabotaged the array. Of course, he couldn’t destroy it entirely—he couldn’t dismantle it while teleporting himself. So he left clues… Lord Chackley, were there any other teleportation arrays besides the one on the island?”

Chackley shook his head. “Our purpose in coming was to retrieve the array, but unfortunately, we didn’t make it in time. The empire’s only technology now is distance communication, but without Purgatory Island’s manufacture, it’ll be difficult to widely implement.”

“I'm no mage, but I know this: without a corresponding array, it means one-way and random teleportation. If he miscalculates, he might end up in the Sea of Death.”

“So you mean…”

Raschel pressed his face close to the array. “A meticulously planned scheme wouldn’t leave a suicidal choice at the end, so he must have made some compensations you don’t know about—after all, this is his own array, isn’t it?” He gestured at the damaged array. “Perhaps the markings here hold answers. This might represent altitude, that distance… Lord Chackley, I think you must immediately find a mage skilled in spatial magic. We need to study what remains of the array. If we can figure out what tricks the killer employed, even if we can’t pinpoint his destination, we can at least determine his general direction. Once we know his direction and distance, I’ll have a chance to catch him! Also, we need to find Lord Lancelot immediately. I suspect he isn’t dead—although that youngster could send him straight to hell, I don’t believe he would. If he truly wanted to kill Lancelot, he wouldn’t need the array to do so… Please, believe me. I know Lancelot is strong, but wisdom is boundless, and our enemy possesses enough of it.”

Raschel looked at Chackley and the other warriors. “This is a very cunning foe.”

“Even if we know the direction and distance, the area he could escape to is vast, and given his cunning… I fear we may never find him. Is it worth investing so much manpower and resources to chase such a fugitive?” Chackley said. To be honest, now that the killer was confirmed as Shui Gleil, Chackley hoped to abandon the pursuit.

After all, if their dealings with Shui Gleil came to light, the empire would not spare them.

But Raschel said calmly, “Compared to what he took, any amount of manpower and resources is worthwhile.”

“What are you saying?” Chackley was shaken.

Raschel softly picked up something. “Look at this. If I’m not mistaken, this is a rare plant seed. Though I’m no alchemist, I understand plants deeply. My word, I thought they were extinct. Apparently, a seed stuck to him, then fell here.”

He glanced at Chackley, then smiled. “That boy is astonishingly cunning. He deliberately destroyed everything here, making us believe all research records, materials, and products are gone. But in truth… he took all the valuable items with him. I suspect he has a ring or bracelet capable of storing vast amounts—space magic, his field of study.”

“Oh, heavens,” Chackley groaned.

Raschel grew serious. “Prepare to report to the emperor and launch a nationwide hunt. Shui Gleil possesses knowledge and wealth that could topple a nation. No matter where he is, we must find him, capture him! At the very least, we must obtain that ring or other space item.”

Bailey said anxiously, “But what if he’s not in our country anymore?”

Raschel chuckled. “If I were Shui Gleil, I would never leave the Lance Empire.”

“You’re not saying the more dangerous the place, the safer it is, are you?”

“No, that’s utter nonsense—never believe such foolish adventure theories. What I mean is, when someone could have escaped long ago, but chooses to destroy everything before leaving, it means he never cared about us or the danger. If a man, on a perilous, isolated island, can survive and retaliate against overwhelming odds, then once his sphere expands to the whole empire, what does he have to fear? I suspect he’d relish seeing officials with miserable faces—so if I were him, I wouldn’t leave the empire. I’d stand openly in this nation, watching the drama unfold as they try to deal with me, hunt me, and play out the prey’s counterattack… He’s already succeeded once, and that must feel very satisfying, wouldn’t you say?”

Chackley and Bailey’s faces grew darker.

Raschel, hands behind his back, circled the array, as if he could glean something from its intricate design. He said coldly, “Gentlemen, this young man is the most ruthless and cunning fugitive I’ve encountered since joining the Department of Law. He’s no ordinary youth—he is tenacious, vicious, bold, cautious, meticulous, comprehensive, and full of daring. He is a formidable and terrifying adversary. Capturing him will be an arduous task. But we can be grateful for one thing—despite his cunning, it’s clear he’s not a professional. He left clues for me to find, while I am an expert at apprehending criminals…”

At this, Raschel looked up at Chackley. “I need all the information you have on this young man—the more detailed, the better.”