On the way back to Prius Academy, Baston did not look outside the carriage. He looked inward toward the auction incident that had ended better than he expected.
A death beneath the crystal chandeliers, the panic that was wrapped in the noble pride, and a staged unconsciousness that redirected the suspicion. At the center of it all, it was a performance that was judged by an unseen evaluator.
The old book had rewarded him with third puppet from his perfect performance. Now, there were three puppets he could control. It was the three extensions of his will and the three silent hands that could move where he could not.
It was enough to survive but the survival had never been his only objective.
From the beginning until now, he had cleared two quests with excellent results.
Each excellent evaluation had strengthened his magic and granted him a new element which was ice and flare. The ice was what the world knew and the flare was what the world must never know.
He leaned against the carriage wall and closed his eyes.
Beneath his palm, a faint warmth flickered with just a whisper of flare magic, answering his thoughts before he suppressed it again.
If the Versance family discovered that he possessed dual elements, they would not merely approach him with courtesy.
Claire's gaze in the auction hall had not been casual. Even while he pretended unconsciousness, he felt it. The Herbiens family would be worse since they were not known for the patience.
If they believed they could secure him by force or leverage, they would attempt it without hesitation. After all, the strength was no longer about his survival. It was about the negotiation.
Without strength, he would be taken. With strength, he could choose.
That was why he needed another quest. Another excellent or perhaps, another perfect. The carriage lurched and Panto halted the carriage abruptly. Baston quickly opened his eyes from his concentration.
"What happened?"
Panto leaned out the window, surveying the path ahead. After a moment, he returned inside with a troubled expression.
"It's bad... There's been a landslide. The entire road is buried in mud and rock. No carriage can pass..."
Baston stepped down to look. The main route to Prius Academy was swallowed by thick earth. The mud, shattered stone, and uprooted trees tangled together like a collapsed wall.
The travelers gathered in clusters, murmuring about such troublesome situation.
"This will take days to clean the road…"
"If we had enough wizards, we could move it easily…"
Baston listened toward some opinions since they were right. The magic could clear it but ordinary magic users would exhaust themselves long before the road reopened.
He could use flare, he could evaporate the mud, he could fracture the rock, and he could clear it faster than anyone here. But then, his flare magic would no longer be a secret.
"No need to force it," Baston said calmly, "Let's find another route."
Panto nodded, "There's a nearby town. We can stay the night and circle around tomorrow."
"Do as you see fit..."
Panto's eyes brightened slightly. He always looked oddly pleased when Baston trusted his decisions. The merchant boy had changed since the auction. The respect had replaced his insecurity and the gratitude had replaced his rivalry.
Baston noted it silently since the misunderstanding was useful.
They turned the carriage around and headed toward the town. It appeared peaceful from afar where the low stone houses spread, the thin trails of smoke were rising from the chimneys, and the fields beyond the wooden fence scattered far.
The town was ordinary, too ordinary for everyone who had experienced the hectic life in Farbarus City.
The moment their wheels crossed into the town's entrance, the old book trembled. It was just once but he felt it clearly. He withdrew it discreetly inside the carriage. The page turned by itself where the ink bled across the surface.
"Set the people free…"
Baston stared at the words. The old book did not explain. It never explained since it only commanded.
He closed it slowly. The quest was surely connected to this town which meant the place was not ordinary. They soon stopped at a modest inn.
Panto went inside to arrange the lodging while Baston stepped out into the street.
The air smelled of grain and damp wood. There were no guards, no chains, and no visible prisoners, yet the quest existed. It meant something here was hidden.
He began to walk and a small girl approached him hesitantly, holding a bouquet of wildflowers.
"Young master… Would you like to buy flowers? It's only one pound."
Her dress was patched and her shoes were worn thin. He intended to refuse, but then, he reconsidered.
"I'll buy one..."
Her eyes brightened as she handed him the bouquet. As he gave her the money, he lowered his voice.
"Tell me something… Has anything strange happened in this town recently?"
She blinked, "Strange?"
"For example… Someone that is being kept somewhere where people will not allowed to leave."
The girl froze only for a second but he saw it. There was a flicker of fear, hidden in such innocent expression.
"I… I don't know," she said quickly, "I can't talk about it."
Before he could say something, she ran away. She was too fast and too deliberate.
He did not chase her. He didn't need to since the fear existed which meant the truth also existed. Inside the inn, he tested the waters again.
"Has there ever been someone held captive in this town?" he asked casually.
The innkeeper laughed too loudly, "Captive? Impossible! We've lived peacefully for decades."
A worker shook his head, "It's just rumors. People like to slander our town."
The janitor's tone sharpened unnaturally, "It must be the jealousy from neighboring villages."
Their denials overlapped, rehearsed, and not spontaneous. He smiled politely.
"Of course... I must have heard it wrong..."
But internally, his suspicion hardened since the old book did not lie.
This town was hiding something. That night, the dinner was only a single bowl of thin soup. Panto looked apologetic, thinking he was a failure.
"I'm sorry… They claim they're short on supplies. They could only provide such simple dinner."
Baston nodded, understanding his effort. But when his puppet, disguised as a rat, slipped into the storage room, it saw the barrels of grain that were stacked to the ceiling.
They were not lacking but they somehow were restricting the food. Perhaps, they were targeting him since he asked what must not be asked. His curiosity took the best of him so he began investigating more.
Another puppet flew across the rooftops as a sparrow and another scurried through the alleyways. It took a while before he saw it.
On the western edge of the town, there was an old granary building. It had reinforced doors and no windows. Two men were stationed outside and they were armed plus watchful.
Their movement and gesture felt strangely wrong for guarding just the food.
*****
At the midnight, Baston remained seated on his bed with his eyes half-closed. He looked calm and sleepy, but unexpectedly, his puppets gathered the information outside.
Inside the granary, there were seven people who were bound in the ropes. The exhaustion could be seen on their expression. They wore the travel clothing, and surely, there were not the locals.
At the moment, the puppet could only monitor them closely. One of them then whispered weakly.
"What would happen to us? Are they going to sell us at the dawn?"
The word of sell made Baston's eyes opened fully.
The town wasn't harboring the criminals. It was capturing the outsiders, selling them as the income of the town. The human trafficking was indeed hidden beneath the rural calm.
The old book had not specified the innocent or the guilty. It simply said to set the people free.
He considered his options since he only had three puppets.
With limited information surrounding the town, an unknown number of the collaborators, and a town that was united by the silence, the direct confrontation would alert everyone.
The flare magic would expose his secret and the ice magic might work but the noise would follow. For better approach, he could just release all of them.
He could do it silently. With no clue and no evidence, it would bring fear. Such fear fractured the unity and the unity was the town's strength.
The confrontation might happen, but for the best, he must not do it directly.
Before dawn, he moved. Though he looked like sleeping, his puppets were working tirelessly. It obeyed the orders and it would do without any complaint.
*****
Eventually, before the sunrise, Baston walked downstairs.
"Good morning," he greeted the innkeeper cheerfully, "Any breakfast today? Last night's soup left me starving."
The innkeeper forced a smile, "Of course! Fresh ingredients arrived this morning."
It was an interesting phenomenon. Yesterday was scarcity but today was abundance. The panic made people generous. As he ate delightful meal, he added casually.
"By the way, I confirmed it with my friend. There's no captive here after all. It was just a rumor. I wonder who dared to spread such evil lies."
"Yes! It's just a rumor!" the innkeeper replied too quickly.
Baston nodded thoughtfully, "I'm glad because imagine if the outsiders discovered such a thing.
The authorities would investigate, the traders would avoid the town, and the prices would collapse."
The spoon trembled slightly in the innkeeper's hand.
"Such lies could destroy everything," he continued mildly.
"Yes… yes…"
"Of course, since it's false, there's no need to worry."
He smiled and finished the last spoonful of meat porridge.
He did not linger and he did not look toward the western side of the town. He simply paid the bill, thanked the innkeeper for the excellent hospitality and returned upstairs.
In the meantime, Panto was already dressed and ready to leave.
"Everything settled?" the merchant boy asked.
"Yes…" Baston replied calmly, "We should depart before the road grows crowded."
Panto hesitated, "About last night… I heard some commotion outside. There were people shouting and something about the smoke near the granary."
Baston paused only for the briefest second before adjusting his sleeve, "Such place are prone to accidents… Perhaps, someone left a lantern unattended."
Panto frowned slightly but he did not press further. In his mind, Baston had his own plans. He was clever, calculating, and capable but not someone who would entangle himself in such disputes without the reason.
They left the town under a bright sky. No one stopped them and no one accused them but Baston noticed something.
The town was quieter than before. The doors were half-closed and several eyes watched from behind the curtains. The suspicion had begun to turn inward. The division would protect the freed captives far more effectively than the confrontation.
Once the town disappeared behind the trees, Baston allowed himself to relax against the carriage wall again. However, the old book remained silent.
There was no warmth, no turning page, and no ink that was forming as the completion. It was nothing at all.
He lowered his gaze and he retrieved the old book discreetly, shielding it from Panto's sight with his sleeve. The page where the quest had appeared still read the same.
"Set the people free…"
The words did not fade.
They did not transform and did not display the evaluation. There was no excellent, no perfect, and not even a simple good. It was as if nothing had happened.
His fingers tightened slightly around the book. Clearly, it meant one thing. The seven captives were not what the book meant. In the end, his action last night was irrelevant.
For a brief moment, he felt something close to irritation.
He had calculated carefully, he had chosen the most efficient method, he had manipulated the fear without revealing his identity, he had saved lives, yet the old book did not acknowledge it.
Either the book's definition of people was different or the captives were not the true prisoners.
His mind replayed every detail from the tremor when entering the town, the girl's fear, the rehearsed denials, the scarcity of food, and the seven captives. Everything aligned logically but he messed it up.
He glanced at Panto. The merchant boy was humming softly, unaware of the silent conflict that was occurring inches away.
Baston decided instantly and he would not tell Panto at the moment. Not about the granary, not about the smoke, and not about the freed captives. The less Panto knew, the safer he remained.
If the book had not evaluated the act, then the matter was unfinished. Such unfinished matter was dangerous.
He leaned back and stared at the carriage ceiling.
Had he misunderstood the quest or had he only removed a symptom while ignoring the root?
The old book had always been precise. It was cruel but precise. If it demanded to set the people free, then it implied a wider captivity. It would not be just seven people. Perhaps, an entire town was bound by something unseen.
Maybe, the villagers themselves were the prisoners.
The prisoners of whoever orchestrated the trafficking, prisoners of an agreement, or prisoners of a hidden master.
Baston exhaled slowly. He had acted too quickly without complete understanding. A faint sense of unease lingered in his chest.
For the first time since gaining the old book, he felt the possibility that he could misinterpret a quest entirely. If he had stayed longer and if he had dug deeper, another clue might appear then.
The town was behind them now but the quest was not. He would have to return not impulsively and not blindly but prepared thoroughly.
Prepared to uncover what truly bound that place, prepared to dismantle it entirely, and prepared to achieve not just a rescue but the liberation.
"Let's turn back…"