Chapter Forty-Two: Going Out

Dawn was just beginning to break, the darkness not yet fully receded, when Hughes had already packed his belongings. There wasn't much to bring—some clothes, magic stones, potions, and the longsword he had carried when first arriving at the academy. With a simple preparation, Hughes was ready to depart.

Walking along the academy’s winding path, Hughes glanced around at the familiar grounds. Nothing had changed; within the Ring of Shadows, there were no seasons. Since his arrival, he had never left the academy. As for the world outside, he could only assume that spring had already come.

Hughes made his way to the academy’s gate, the very place where Wizard Charlie had brought him when he first arrived.

“Caw, caw, caw!”

“Caw! Look, there’s a little fellow trying to leave!”

Two enormous raven statues still stood sentinel on either side of the entrance. Before, Hughes hadn’t sensed much from them, but now, as a second-level apprentice, he could distinctly feel the intense danger emanating from these statues. He had a clear sense that, if they wished, tearing him apart would be no difficult task.

“Caw! I remember your scent. You’re the little one Charlie brought back!” The statues’ eyes glimmered with red light, unerringly fixed upon Hughes.

“Yes, esteemed guardians. By my teacher’s order, I am to leave and carry out a mission,” Hughes said, bowing respectfully.

“Caw! I can smell that bothersome medicinal scent on you. Your mentor must be that Matt fellow, right?”

“Yes!” Hughes felt a bit incredulous, unwilling to believe these statues could actually have a sense of smell.

“Caw! Well, if that's so, speak the passphrase and I’ll let you out. Even though I have a decent relationship with Matt, you know the rules.”

“I willingly entrust my soul to the Shadow.”

Seeing Hughes recite the passphrase accurately, the statues said no more. Their crimson eyes flared, and the gate of the Ring of Shadows swung open just enough for Hughes to slip through.

As he stepped outside, a swirling vortex slowly formed—just as it had when he first arrived.

“At last, I’m out!” Hughes breathed in the air of the world beyond as he passed through the vortex’s threshold. He could also sense that the portal hadn’t disappeared, merely hidden; a touch of mental energy would reveal it once more.

Surveying his surroundings, Hughes found the landscape as barren as before. The number of crows seemed to have increased—branches sagged beneath their weight, on the verge of snapping.

Walking along the road, Hughes noticed that many of the plants were withered, perhaps an effect of the academy, though he couldn’t be sure. With no mount of his own, he continued on foot, but he didn’t mind; after being confined in the Ring of Shadows, he had longed for the chance to travel.

He made his way westward, heading for a small town marked on his map, where he planned to buy a horse and send his letter.

Gradually, the road widened and the vegetation thickened. As he had guessed, it was truly spring outside: new buds unfurled, the first tender leaves stretching toward the sunlight.

Clip-clop, clip-clop—the sound of hooves echoed behind him. Hughes glanced back to see a carriage approaching, but paid it little mind. It had nothing to do with him—yet, unexpectedly, the carriage pulled to a stop beside him.

“Excuse me, are you heading to Diagonal Town? If you are, we can give you a ride.” A young lady leaned out, her hair softly curled and her long dress a pale gold, exuding an air of nobility.

Hughes hesitated, unsure whether to accept. But as he looked into the girl’s star-like eyes, he sensed no malice from her party; perhaps, seeing him alone on the road, they simply felt a pang of sympathy.

“Why even bother asking him? If he doesn’t want to ride, so be it. Who cares? Besides, out here in the wilds, who knows if he’s deliberately luring us into a trap, with his accomplices lying in ambush?” A boy’s voice, still youthful, came from within the carriage. Likely the girl’s younger brother.

“Chris!” the girl called, irritation in her tone. She turned back to Hughes, her expression apologetic. “Forgive my brother’s rudeness.”

Hughes waved away her concern; he understood their caution was only prudent.

“Please, join us. It’s still quite a distance to Twin Horn Town, and this place is rather desolate. Allow me to make up for my brother’s lack of courtesy—let us travel together.” Her invitation was sincere.

This time, Hughes did not refuse and climbed into the carriage with her.

The boy inside snorted disdainfully and turned away, making it clear he wanted nothing to do with Hughes.

The carriage was lavishly decorated, spacious, with a small table in the center laid with delicate pastries. The floor was lined with animal pelts, making for a comfortable ride.

Hughes settled in. The girl seemed at a loss for words, and her brother had no intention of speaking. Hughes himself was content with silence, and the only sound was the steady rhythm of the horses’ hooves.

After about an hour, the carriage drew to a halt. A small town appeared before them, nestled at the heart of the encircling mountains—a location most advantageous.

“Sir Hughes! I’m afraid this is as far as we can take you. My apologies,” the girl said, regret in her eyes.

“Not at all. I’m already grateful for your kindness in bringing me this far.” Hughes had a feeling that the girl’s identity was far from ordinary; she possessed an inexplicable aura.

“Sister, let’s go!” the boy called impatiently from within the carriage.

“We’ll take our leave, then, Sir Hughes. Perhaps we’ll meet again someday.” With a smile and a graceful curtsy, the girl rejoined the carriage.

As he watched it roll away, Hughes entered Twin Horn Town. The name was peculiar, and he didn’t know its origin; still, it was the only settlement for miles in these mountains.

After a quick circuit of the town, Hughes bought a horse, some provisions, and set off in the direction indicated on his map.

Hooves struck the stony road, sending up clouds of dust.

Truth be told, this was Hughes’ first time riding so freely. In the past, at the castle, he had ridden only around the estate—never so far afield.

That night, Hughes tethered his horse to a tree and found a clearing to rest. He built a small campfire and ate, washing his meal down with water.

Sated, Hughes leaned against the trunk, gazing up at the endless stars.

“Among all these stars, is there one that marks the place I came from?” he murmured, eyes half-closed.

He was startled awake by voices.

Opening his eyes, he saw seven armored soldiers on horseback, looking down at him from above. Each bore the emblem of a fragrant flower on their armor, finely crafted—though Hughes did not recognize which family it represented.

Every noble house had its own crest, each with deep significance, but this was the first time Hughes had seen this particular insignia.

The seven imposing horses stopped a short distance away. One of them carried a large chest on its back, its contents unknown.

Their eyes met, but neither side spoke. The leader of the soldiers nodded to Hughes, then led his men to build their own fire, roasting something for supper.

After eating, they unloaded the chest from the horse and sat around it, guarding it closely.

To be honest, seeing how they treasured the chest, Hughes couldn’t help but be curious about its contents.

“Boss, should we take care of that kid over there? I saw him eyeing our chest the whole time,” one of the soldiers whispered.

“Better not. If he dares to camp out here alone, he must have some skill. No need to invite trouble. We’ll leave early in the morning, and maybe we won’t have to do a thing—those fellows trailing us might take care of him for us.” The leader had noticed Hughes’ gaze as well, but after some thought, decided against any action.