Chapter 5 The Question of Time They had completely lost their minds. ...
Cassandra's cold voice almost made Lucas and Ashlin take two steps back simultaneously: "I know nothing about this."
“You can trust us!” Ashlin emphasized. “You yourself said you’re Lucas’s sister’s friend. And Sanova is my adoptive father and teacher, please, that’s important.”
“Little girl, I won’t say it a second time. I don’t know anything.”
Looking at the Witcher, Lucas had a strange feeling, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
It's exactly the same feeling as when you first step into a tavern.
A moment later he realized it was probably Cassandra's eyes. They seemed empty and lifeless.
Or perhaps he was overthinking it; Cassandra was simply being cautious as a witcher.
But she had no reason not to believe them, did she? Judging from her tone, she was by no means completely ignorant.
Cassandra snorted through her nose.
“So you actually know everything,” Ashlind said immediately.
"Hmph, I didn't say that."
"At least tell me, is he still alive?"
Cassandra watched her warily.
"The last time I saw him, he was still alive." Her tone suggested it wasn't good news.
“If you tell us where Sanova is, I guarantee you, you can have as much gold as you want,” Lucas promised.
Cassandra sneered: "Don't think you can bribe me with gold coins, Your Highness! I act on justice and loyalty."
Lucas raised an eyebrow: "Ah, how ironic that comes from a monster hunter who makes money by killing monsters."
Cassandra didn't just hide things because of promises; there must be something else influencing it.
Perhaps they should observe for a while longer and ask questions more cautiously.
"You really can't tell us anything else?" Ashley asked.
"I can't. Is there any other problem?"
Ashlin shrank back in frustration, but a moment later, her olive-green eyes lit up with a mischievous glint.
Lucas had a bad feeling.
“Yes, there are.” Ashlin’s lips curled into a smile. “What was Prince Lucas like when he was a child?”
"Isn't it enough that you know what I look like as a cat?" Lucas said, somewhat annoyed.
This time, Cassandra looked at them with interest, no longer displaying her aloof demeanor.
"What cat? Are you hiding a story from it?"
Before Lucas could stop her, Ashlyn had already told Cassandra the whole story without any hesitation.
It's not her fault; after all, he was the one who let it slip first.
However, this was a good opportunity to lower Cassandra's guard and ask her questions when she wasn't looking.
Cassandra laughed so hard she was shaking, while Lucas patiently waited for her to regain her ability to speak.
"Finished laughing?"
“Your story is much more interesting.” The Witcher said, his breathing even. “I only met His Highness the Prince once when he was a child. I had just met Elaine then, and she was only nine years old. Lucas had just learned to speak and loved listening to the Queen tell fairy tales about fairies turning ordinary girls into princesses.”
"Really?" This time it was Ashlin's turn to giggle.
Lucas had no recollection of Cassandra and was unable to retaliate.
“Really,” he said, going all out. “I’ll even pretend to be a fairy godmother and try to turn Elaine’s shoes into glass slippers. Are you satisfied, Miss Bailey?”
Ashlin smiled brightly. "I couldn't be more satisfied, Your Highness."
“It’s so impolite of you to keep talking about me,” Lucas said. “Cassandra, why don’t you tell us about your recent story?”
The Witcher curled his lip.
"Aside from hunting down the followers of the Black Witch, I don't think I've done anything else."
Lucas heard a loud bang in his ear.
Impossible, it can't be what he thinks. That person died before he was born; it's definitely a coincidence.
Then he felt again that something strange was distracting him in the tavern, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.
"A follower of the Black Witch?" Ashlin asked in surprise.
Cassandra immediately covered her mouth.
“I didn’t say anything. Okay, that’s enough. It’s getting late, you guys should go to sleep. Goodbye, guys.”
Cassandra quickly got up, grabbed her bottle, and swayed back to the bar to continue telling the story of Hydra.
“A follower of the Black Witch? Sanova never mentioned that,” Ashlin said, puzzled. “Hopefully Cassandra will change her mind tomorrow and tell us the truth. Do you have any ideas?”
However, Lucas wasn't listening. His gaze swept past Ashlin, rapidly scanning the entire tavern.
Everyone seemed perfectly normal, no different from when he first came in. Everyone was doing what they were supposed to do.
He was quite certain that he had just captured something, but now it had vanished.
"Your Highness, are you alright?"
"Excuse me," he said, snapping out of his daze, "what did you just say?"
Ashlin yawned and pulled Lucas upstairs to their guest room.
"I'm saying Cassandra might change her mind tomorrow."
“I can’t say for sure,” Lucas said, glancing around. “But I have a bad feeling… there’s something wrong with this tavern. And there’s something wrong with Cassandra too.”
“Really?” Ashlin looked around as well. “What’s the problem? I don’t feel anything. If it were magic, I think I would sense it.”
“You?” Lucas narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re just a herbalist. I thought only those of divine lineage would react directly to magic.”
"Oh, I didn't know." The girl was a little surprised. "Can't I use magic I've learned?"
"Of course not! Miss Witch, who is the apprentice mage, you or me? How come you don't even understand the most basic magic theory?"
Ashlin shrugged. "I really can't get through 'Introduction to the Fundamentals of Magic'."
However, his inner voice screamed: "Introduction to the Fundamentals of Magic" is the work of the ancient archmage Iller, who also designed the Edoro labyrinth where monsters are imprisoned! Ashlin can't even stand it? Then why is she even learning magic?
He opened the door, the smell of dust making him cough repeatedly, and a flash of silver light appeared before his eyes, as if he had seen something else.
But it's actually nothing, just the address "103" and the words "Yesterday's Tavern" below.
Lucas felt even worse, constantly feeling like he was missing out on a lot of crucial information.
"Your Highness, what exactly happened? Is it because you turned back into a human that you're feeling unwell?"
“I’m not used to walking standing up,” he replied. “Good night, Miss Bailey.”
Ashley seemed to want to say something more, but Lucas had already stepped into the guest room.
He might just be overthinking things; he lay in bed, staring at the spider in the corner of the ceiling. Elaine often said he overthought things, which was why he wasn't as skilled as others.
He thinks too much and does too little, so his father will never see his efforts.
But how do you stop Lucas de Vere from thinking?
Arabian Nights.
He kicked off the covers, trying to recall the uncomfortable feeling he had experienced in the pub, but couldn't remember any details. So he sat up again and tiptoed to open the door.
The tavern was just as noisy and filled with laughter as before.
Is no one going to sleep at this hour?
He tilted his ear, and a familiar voice came in:
"...Then all nine heads roared at me at the same time, and my companion was so frightened that he dropped his bow. What could we do? I charged forward in one go, picked up my sword, and started slashing! One of the hydra's heads fell off, but it immediately grew back. My companion and I were dumbfounded."
"Then, I remembered what my master had said: no matter what monster you face, you must find its source. The Hydra must also have a source; I guess it has a master..."
Lucas tiptoed out of the room and crouched behind a large wooden barrel.
"...Then, just like this, the Hydra's main head rolled onto the ground and almost crushed me to dust!"
A burst of laughter followed.
Lucas pressed his head against the wooden wall, his heart pounding in his chest, barely daring to breathe.
As the fog dissipated, all the fragmented details coalesced into the chilling feeling that sent shivers down his spine.
He observed it through the hole in the barrel.
That's right, that's exactly it.
Everyone in the tavern was doing the exact same thing as an hour earlier: a drunkard was half-slumped on a bench, two young men were arguing about the origin of the world, several children were running around barefoot, a burly man in a leather jacket was throwing dice, a farmer was drinking wearily, the owner was constantly wiping old bottles, and Cassandra was passionately recounting her hunt for Hydra...
The only difference is that there was no other version of himself and Ashley came in.
He wasn't repeating what he'd done an hour earlier; Ashlin must have fallen asleep too.
Perhaps it's because they haven't stayed long enough, Lucas pondered.
That doesn't make sense.
What is certain is that this is magic. Some kind of time-loop magic, with a short cycle.
Lucas only needs to find the source of the magic.
Perhaps Ashlyn, as a witch, would be better at this, but she looked sleepy, and he shouldn't disturb her. She was just a herbalist witch who could even mispronounce healing spells; how could she possibly cure dark magic?
Suddenly, a shadow fell in front of him.
"Hey, you!" A man with a beard like a black bush pointed at Lucas from behind, "What are you doing squatting here so suspiciously?"
Lucas was startled, but quickly regained his composure.
She was just a servant.
"I was just a little thirsty, so I came down to take a look."
The man narrowed his eyes.
"Then what are you doing crouching in the back? I think you're here to steal something, huh?"
"Then do you have any proof?" Lucas spread his empty hands. "Look, I didn't steal anything. I was just a little drunk and squatting here to recover."
The man looked half-believing.
Lucas waited for him to react, after all, Cassandra had just announced the arrival of the prince to the entire tavern.
But the man remained silent, only staring at him blankly.
"That's strange, I can't remember." He muttered to himself, and left inexplicably.
Lucas was puzzled, but also relieved. This time, he went openly to the heart of the busiest tavern, just like Ashlin had done before, and went straight to Cassandra.
"Ms. Cassandra!"
“It’s me, ma’am. Do you remember me? I just spoke to you.”
It seems she doesn't remember.
Lucas didn't want to die again, and besides, too many people knowing his whereabouts might reach the court.
So he shook his head: "No, my name is Jerry. Who is Lucas?"
Cassandra was disappointed.
“Okay, you look a lot like one of my friends. Cheer up, they’re complimenting you on your aristocratic air, like a princess,” she said. “What are you trying to do?”
"I just wanted to ask, how long have you been coming to this tavern?"
Lucas rarely interrupts others.
"I mean just this once."
Cassandra frowned.
"A few hours, I guess."
What is today's date?
“August…” Cassandra racked her brains, “The 24th? I guess.”
Lucas had to sit down and take a deep breath.
Why are you suddenly so pale?
“Cassandra,” Lucas managed to utter a sound from his throat, “it’s already the end of September.”
As soon as he said it, he realized he had made a mistake.
These words were like a powerful incantation, instantly penetrating the entire tavern. Everyone froze, turning to look at Lucas. Cassandra stood frozen in shock.
Just then, Lucas saw it.
That hourglass.
The exquisite hourglass, so out of place in the rest of the house, stood upright on the fireplace.
He should have noticed much earlier that the sand inside hadn't moved at all. It had never moved.
Lucas lunged at the hourglass, but someone had already made their move.
He reacted quickly, dodging the attacks of a blacksmith and a knight, but was still grabbed by the limbs by two or three strong rangers and hunters and dragged into a corner. His body was slammed against the corner of the wall, his back hitting rough stone.
He punched and kicked, hearing his own heavy breathing mingle with the other person's muffled breaths, and smelling the leather and sweat on their bodies.
“You don’t understand,” he gasped, “this tavern is under a time loop curse. The magic is hidden in the hourglass, and we need to break it.”
"Slander! Throw him out!"
"Imprison him. He doesn't belong here."
"...Use him for entertainment!"
However, no one was listening to him.
Lucas understood that the only sober people in the tavern right now were probably him and Ashlin, who was fast asleep upstairs.
He'd better make a big fuss to wake Ashlyn.
Lucas pulled out a dagger and stabbed at the ranger's thigh. Although he missed, the man holding him instinctively let go for a moment.
He immediately rolled out from under their arms, overturning several sets of tables and chairs, with wine glasses clattering and rolling away.
For a moment, he felt like he had turned back into a black cat.
He rushed toward the fireplace, about to grab the hourglass.
Unfortunately, something hit the back of his head.
His vision went black, and he lost consciousness.
When he opened his eyes again, Cassandra had him tied up tightly.
“Is it necessary?” Lucas grimaced, rubbing his aching head. “I didn’t have the energy to do anything anyway.”
“Now, let’s decide what to do with him, everyone.” A bounty hunter brandished a silver knife. “Should we skin him alive?”
A low murmur of approval rose from the crowd.
Lucas gave an awkward smile.
"Wow, what's going on? What did my skin do to you?"
"Your skin is beautiful," the bounty hunter said, sharpening his knife. "It's the kind of skin countless young girls dream of!"
The hunter pressed his knife against his chin, drawing a drop of blood.
But considering that he might be beheaded if he didn't do something, he had to bite the bullet and say, "I am Lucas de Vere, the prince of Helian. If you want to be hanged, I'd be happy for you to do so."
For a moment, the air seemed to freeze, and people whispered, as if reconsidering their actions.
Even if they're bound by magic, they can't just kill the prince, right?
That's completely wrong.
“Who cares about a prince?” the hunter scoffed. “This place exists outside of time; no one will know about it. Everyone will be trapped here, never to see the light of day again.”
Lucas closed his eyes, hoping he was dreaming.
"Let him go."
At that moment, a girl's voice spoke.
The hunter turned around abruptly.
Ashlyn Bailey stood on the steps, her long staff glowing green in her hand; her golden-green eyes burned with rage, making her look like an enraged wolf.
On either side of her were two enormous oak trees that were still growing and breaking through all the house structures, with pieces of wood and tiles falling like rain.
A note from the author:
Just catching up on my worldview in my spare time:
The continent is called Dias, and Helian City is the royal city of Dias, ruled by the Deville family (i.e., the royal family); Helian means the city of the sun.
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