Chapter Twenty-Six: Epilogue

The storm raised by the Grade Six Master Aubrit was like a whirlwind rising from flat ground, swiftly sweeping toward the edges of the empire.

Shui Gleir’s name once again echoed throughout the nation. People spoke fearfully of the golden youth, none daring to imagine whether, one day, he might appear in their own city.

Yet only those who truly knew him understood: he was a wonderful boy who could accept being extorted for coins with a smile, and who faced everyone each day with cheerful laughter.

His gentleness, his attentiveness, his care, and his concern were reserved for only a select few, yet they left an indelible impression on all who encountered them.

While the air in Fragrant Leaf City still lingered with tension, solemnity, and a touch of unease, Clarisse’s heart was filled with confusion.

That night, she had witnessed with her own eyes Shui Gleir’s cold, ruthless expression as he killed, and the agile, steady steps with which he moved.

Yet, in the same night, at the moment he leapt down from the high platform, Clarisse also saw the deep affection and tenderness in his eyes.

It was a kind of helplessness, the helplessness when facing imminent separation. He could say nothing, do nothing—he could only leave.

Clarisse fully understood his feelings, and because of this, she found herself unable to sleep.

When dawn broke, she discovered an envelope beside her pillow.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she rushed to the room where Daisy and the others slept. The two young girls had cried through the night and remained fast asleep.

A little disappointed, Clarisse opened the letter.

“Clarisse, by the time you read this letter, I will have already gone.

I am sorry for intruding upon your grand celebration; this night was meant to be yours, but I ruined it. I had hoped to resolve matters in advance, but Claude’s invitation coincided with your performance. Perhaps all I can say is that there is never such a thing as perfection in this world—there are always regrets and helplessness that leave us sighing.

The time spent with you all may have been the most carefree days I’ve had since arriving in this world. I didn’t have to worry that upon waking, my master would dissect me; I didn’t have to fear that a mistake at work would send me into the abyss; I didn’t have to fear that a wrong word would cost me my master’s favor; nor did I have to constantly rack my brains thinking how to survive.

In these days with the dance troupe, I could do whatever I pleased, live happily without trouble, watch you and the girls laugh and play… Yes, that is how a person ought to live, but unfortunately, it does not belong to me.

So I want to thank you. Thank you for bringing a ray of sunshine into my life; even in the hardest days ahead, thinking of you and the girls of the dance troupe—thinking of you, Clarisse—I will know that I have at least a beautiful memory.

That may be the most precious thing to me.

Don’t worry about the money; from the moment I placed it in your hands, I had no intention of taking it back. Nor be angry that I wrote that report under your name, exposing my presence in the dance troupe. It was the only way to ensure you wouldn’t be implicated because of me—if the Justice Bureau has any credibility, they should at least reward you with five thousand gold Vitts. Remember, don’t be shy, accept it. If you act too magnanimous, they’ll become suspicious. And please, don’t be angry that I left without saying goodbye—I had to go, though I truly wished to stay.

When the Justice Bureau questions you, just answer truthfully. If anyone asks about Xu, simply say it’s the little black dog I brought. I entrust this to you.

Lastly, give my regards to Daisy, Lanty, and the others. They are beautiful, lovely, and enchanting. I truly wish I could stay with you all, but regretfully, I must leave. Tell them I will miss them, but please do not worry about me.

Of course, I will miss you.

Finally, please do not forget to burn this letter—let this longing remain in your heart. —Shui Gleir.”

“This bastard!” Clarisse looked at the letter and could not hold back her tears.

“He won’t come back, will he?” Daisy’s voice sounded in Clarisse’s ear.

Daisy and Lanty lay beside her, leaning against each other, their faces streaked with tears as they gazed at Clarisse.

So they had already awakened.

“No.” Clarisse gently shook her head. “This separation is only temporary. Believe me, he will return, like a hero, in triumph.”

—Two days passed, and no one received any further news of Shui Gleir.

It was known he had left, departed from Fragrant Leaf City.

On the once-glorious open platform of the Lanya Grand Theater, now empty and desolate, Aubrit’s violent spatial magic had failed to destroy his opponent but had nearly obliterated the whole platform.

Lachel and Chuckley stood on the platform, gazing at its spotless, cleared surface, sighing helplessly.

They had hurried as fast as they could, but ultimately arrived too late.

Shui Gleir had already accomplished what he intended and departed with graceful ease.

Chuckley growled, “Those scoundrels cleaned the place so thoroughly—afraid we might find something, perhaps?”

Lachel replied coldly, “There’s no helping it. Fragrant Leaf City has its own Justice Bureau. They had no reason to wait for us to arrive before cleaning up.”

“So, we can only rely on their reports?” Chuckley asked.

A hint of bitterness crept onto Lachel’s face. “It hardly matters. I know these colleagues too well. What will they find? Just the same old hearsay.”

“At least some things they couldn’t erase.” Chuckley stared intently at the row of words left on the platform:

This is only the beginning!

It was the last mark Shui Gleir left behind, and the Justice Bureau of Fragrant Leaf City could not erase it.

“Lachel, what do you think these words mean?”

“They mean he never saw this as an escape. He saw it as a war—between him, us, and the Empire of Lance.” Lachel answered coldly. “Think of his earlier declaration—that’s the proof. He’s warning us: if we pursue or hunt him, we will face his fierce retaliation. He is telling us he will never go down without a fight… that’s his message.”

Chuckley stared at Lachel in shock. “Is he mad? He’s actually declaring war on the empire? This is provocation!”

Lachel replied with a cold laugh, “I’m not surprised at all. Think about it—he’s just stolen another notebook of Electra from Aubrit, and taken the map the empire spent years drawing that might lead to Electra’s laboratory. He had a clear goal before; now he has a clear direction. His ring contains a vast store of magic seeds and materials. If someone said he’d become another Electra in the days ahead, I’d not be surprised in the least. Why wouldn’t he provoke us, in this situation? He’s already destroyed Purgatory Island—the hatred between him and the empire can’t get any deeper. Why worry about adding another grudge?”

“This is utterly absurd!” Chuckley’s anger was at its peak.

“Absurd?” Lachel sneered. “Tell me, Chuckley, can you defeat Aubrit and kill him?”

Chuckley froze, then shook his head. “No, I cannot.”

“But he did. Chuckley, put aside your prejudice. Our young friend is far stronger than we imagine, and he’s still improving. He is indeed arrogant, but he has the right to be.”

Bailey couldn’t help but interject. “That’s because he set up his magic array in advance. We all know that if an alchemist is prepared beforehand, they can be very powerful. But in a surprise encounter, they’re nothing. And none of us expected he’d also summon the Flame Birds—those two birds alone distracted Aubrit’s focus and magic power. Shui Gleir’s trump cards are being revealed one by one. I don’t think we need to be overly concerned.”

Lachel glanced at Bailey with contempt, then laughed coldly. “No wonder Shui Gleir manipulated you like a puppet. Now I realize—it’s because you’re stupid enough.”

“You—!” Bailey glared at Lachel, who was utterly unmoved.

Chuckley frowned slightly. “Mr. Lachel, I think Bailey’s words have some merit. Isn’t Shui Gleir exposing his cards? I believe next time we meet him, he won’t win so easily.”

“Yes, he is revealing his cards—now we know about the Flame Birds, and some of his fighting methods and skills. We can prepare in advance. But why don’t you wonder why he would do this? People like him never act against their own interests. Aubrit isn’t Heinz; he has no grudge against him. Though Aubrit has done some heinous things, I don’t believe Shui Gleir is some righteous avenger. He might do a good deed or two, but pay the price of exposing his cards for it? I don’t believe he’s so foolish. So why did he insist on killing Aubrit?”

“Then you mean…?”

Lachel answered lazily, “Some bystanders say that after Aubrit unleashed the energy storm, Shui Gleir made some very strange moves. Though they couldn’t say what exactly, I believe killing Aubrit likely gave him a better set of cards.”

Everyone was shocked at this.

“Lachel, what do you think we should do now?” Chuckley quickly asked.

Lachel paced, hands behind his back, then said, “There’s no need to waste national resources on a grand manhunt for Gleir. That will only drive him deeper into hiding. For an alchemist, as long as he doesn’t want to be found, we’ll never find him. So we must give him some space—a space where he can act. Like a cat catching a mouse; blocking the hole won’t work, you have to give the mouse a chance to come out… Abandon the nationwide search for Gleir. Turn the broad net into targeted capture.”

“The problem is, we must know where to target.”

“Since Shui Gleir stole the map, he’s bound to use it. He will surely follow its clues to search for Electra’s laboratory. As far as tracking goes, this is good. Because it means we have a clear route to follow. The locations on that map where Electra’s laboratory might exist—weren’t they all made by the empire? Just check the archives, and we should easily find which target points are closest to Fragrant Leaf City.”

“That’s right.”

“Also, according to intelligence from the Violet Laurel Dance Troupe, we can conclude that Shui Gleir must have done extensive preparation before he killed Aubrit. That’s why he stayed here so long. It fits his usual style—disguise, infiltration, waiting, planning, preparation, then striking when the time is right. Like a venomous snake, before each action, he habitually observes the surroundings, researches information, gathers intelligence, then delivers the fatal blow.” Lachel grinned at Chuckley, “Like a performance on stage—gentle spring rain in the prelude, perhaps making the audience drowsy; then, in the middle, danger lurks everywhere, keeping people on edge; finally, in the finale, the plot twists, leaving the audience exhilarated… This fellow always likes to turn intrigue into a grand show, all without anyone noticing. I truly wonder what his next plan is.”

“So what?”

“It means Shui Gleir is forming his own modus operandi, and it’s built on repeated successes. This means until he fails, he won’t easily change his approach. If he acts again, he will do so in this manner. So we must first investigate what preparations Shui Gleir made during this period. Then, in the future, we can use this knowledge to anticipate his possible locations and targets.”

“I’ll send people to investigate. The Violet Laurel Dance Troupe should be able to give us that information.”

“Finally, we need to request the empire to send more powerful pursuit forces. I need at least five warriors of Grade Six or above, three mages of Grade Four or above, including a mage who can manipulate time reversal, and ideally a pinnacle-class warrior. This time we need elite power, not useless trash.”

“If that’s the case…” Chuckley hesitated.

“No need to worry.” Lachel saw Chuckley’s concern. “I will make sure you have the opportunity to kill Shui Gleir with your own hands.”

Chuckley paused. “Very well, I’ll personally petition His Majesty to send some high-ranking warriors to help us capture Shui Gleir. But let me remind you, if His Majesty really sends a pinnacle warrior, you and I may no longer have the final say here.”

“You can rest assured on that. I have ways to handle it.”

“So what’s next for affairs here?”

Lachel answered viciously, “There must be a scapegoat, mustn’t there?”

“Bernard Brownie is the most suitable candidate.” Chuckley was now fully aware of Lachel’s intentions.

“Of course. If not for his brother Claude, how would Master Aubrit have died? His family is finished—why should he cling to his post in the Internal Affairs Bureau? Let him and his family go to hell together!”

There was a touch of hysterical madness in Lachel’s tone, sending chills down the spines of Chuckley, Bailey, and the others.