The Dark Mage Of The Magus World-Chapter 70: The Message

"Lord Hutson, do you wish to continue attending the banquet?" Huen inquired, falling into step beside him, his head slightly bowed in deference.

Hutson stretched languidly, rolling his shoulders. "No, I think I’ll retire for the night. The banquet no longer holds my interest."

"Very well. May you rest well, Lord Hutson." Huen nodded, offering a polite smile before stepping aside.

Upon returning to his chambers in the grand palace, Hutson found two handmaidens still waiting dutifully by the entrance.

"Would my lord care for a bath?" one of them asked softly, keeping her gaze lowered.

Hutson ran a hand through his hair, realizing just how long it had been since his last wash. He nodded. "Yes. Prepare it."

"At once, my lord." One of the maidens curtsied slightly before slipping away to make the arrangements.

The bath chamber within Hutson’s quarters was lavish, featuring a grand, deep-set tub carved from polished stone. It promised warmth and relaxation—a rare comfort in this world where even something as simple as bathing required a laborious process of fetching, boiling, and transporting water by hand.

Before long, the maiden returned, her voice gentle yet precise. "My lord, the water is being prepared. It will be ready shortly."

"Understood." Hutson nodded, reclining on his bed as he waited.

About half an hour later, four burly palace guards arrived, each carrying a large wooden bucket brimming with steaming water. The scent of heated minerals and faint traces of lavender rose into the air. One by one, they emptied the boiling water into the bath, before returning with additional buckets of cool water to temper the heat.

One of the guards tested the water before turning to Hutson. "My lord, please check if the temperature is to your liking. If it is too hot, we can add more cold water."

Hutson approached the bath and dipped a hand into the water, the warmth seeping into his skin. He gave a satisfied nod. "This will do. You are dismissed."

The guards bowed and promptly withdrew, leaving only the two handmaidens standing in silence, their heads still demurely lowered.

Hutson glanced back at them and raised a brow. "Why are you still standing there?"

"It is our duty to assist my lord with his bath," one of them murmured.

A slow smile spread across Hutson’s face. "I understand that. What I meant was—why are you still dressed?"

The handmaidens exchanged a brief, knowing glance, their cheeks tinged with a soft blush. Then, with delicate hands, they began to untie the fastenings of their garments, silk slipping from their shoulders like falling petals.

Hutson noted their slight misunderstanding but made no move to correct it.

Dawn’s first light spilled through the ornate windows of the palace. Hutson stirred, shifting aside an ivory-skinned arm that rested over his chest. He dressed swiftly, fastening the belt of his tunic with practiced ease.

"Indulgence is a fleeting pleasure; it must not be allowed to dull one’s edge," he muttered to himself. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and entered a brief meditative state, sharpening his focus and casting away stray thoughts.

When he stepped outside, the crisp morning air greeted him, carrying with it the scent of dew-kissed stone. Just beyond the palace gates, Huen and his two sons were waiting.

"Lord Hutson, you are awake. I trust you rested well?" Huen greeted him with his usual composed smile.

Hutson nodded. "Well enough."

Huen’s smile widened. "That is good to hear. Ah, and I must thank you again—my wounds have healed far more swiftly than expected. Before, the pain lingered for days without sign of recovery."

Hutson glanced at him, his gaze cool and unreadable. "It was merely a surface wound. Given time, you would have healed regardless."

At that, Huen’s eldest son, Joshi, stepped forward and bowed deeply. "Even so, we owe you a great debt, Lord Hutson. I will never forget what you have done for my father."

Hutson turned his eyes skyward, gauging the time by the position of the sun. "I will be leaving soon. I have matters to attend to elsewhere, so my stay will not be prolonged."

Huen quickly interjected, "Lord Hutson, you honor us with your presence. If you wish, you may extend your stay as long as you desire. Anything you require, we will gladly provide. But if you must depart, may I ask what errand takes you from our city? Perhaps I can be of some assistance."

In Markfil City, there were few things beyond Huen’s influence. If Hutson sought something, Huen would ensure he acquired it.

Hutson considered for a moment before answering. "I was planning to visit the Adventurers’ Guild."

At that, a shadow flickered across Huen’s expression, his instincts stirring with unease. "And what business do you have there, if I may ask?"

"I need to find a man. A rogue named Robert. There are... questions I would have answered." Hutson’s voice was casual, yet it carried the weight of absolute intent.

Huen chuckled lightly, though there was a glint of calculation in his eyes. "Ah, such a trivial matter should not trouble Lord Hutson personally. Leave it to me—I have strong connections with the Guild. I will make inquiries at once. However, I must caution you—men like Robert are shadows, appearing and vanishing as they please. He may not even be within Markfil City at present."

Hutson’s expression remained unchanged. "I only need to know where he is."

Huen studied him for a moment before offering a knowing smile. "Very well. I shall see to it."

"I’ll wait for your news," Hutson said, his voice calm yet firm. Without further discussion, he turned on his heel and retreated to his chamber, resuming his meditation and training.

His goal for finding Robert was straightforward—he needed answers. The Cursed Effigy was no ordinary artifact, and its origin held vital significance. If he could trace its source, he could determine his next course of action.

Hutson was certain that wherever this sinister relic came from, it wouldn’t be the only object of power hidden there. Such a place was bound to harbor other rare and valuable resources. But with great value came great danger. Before taking any reckless steps, he needed to understand the risks and evaluate them carefully.

Huen was nothing if not efficient.

Barely an hour had passed when the Earl himself arrived at Hutson’s door, a sheen of sweat visible on his forehead.

"He’s not in Markfil City?" Hutson asked, idly tossing a grape into his mouth. His tone was relaxed, but his sharp eyes betrayed his growing interest.

Huen wiped his brow before responding. "Correct. I spoke directly with the head of the Adventurers’ Guild here in Markfil. Robert left the city two days ago."

"Where did he go?" Hutson inquired, his gaze narrowing.

"According to my sources, he took a commission in Stormhold. His task is to serve as a bodyguard for a high-ranking noble."

Stormhold...

Hutson mentally traced the geography, recalling the city’s position. It lay south of Markfil, beyond the boundaries of the Tassoni domain.

"That’s Duke Theodore’s territory," Huen continued, watching Hutson closely. "If you’re planning to head there, I can provide you with a letter of introduction."

Hutson turned to him, a smirk tugging at his lips. "That would be helpful. Write the letter—I’m leaving immediately."

"Now?" Huen blinked in surprise. "So soon?"

"I have no reason to linger here," Hutson replied, already moving around the room, gathering his belongings with practiced efficiency. "If I wait too long, Robert might disappear again."

Realizing that Hutson had already made up his mind, Huen sighed and relented. "Very well. I’ll make the necessary arrangements at once."

True to his word, Huen acted swiftly. Within the hour, he had prepared a sturdy carriage and assigned a strong, capable driver to escort Hutson on his journey.

He had also arranged for two handmaidens to accompany him— the same two who had attended to him the previous night.

Hutson cast a glance at them before shaking his head. "No need. This isn’t a leisurely excursion."

The refusal was absolute. He had neither the time nor the inclination to care for them during the journey. And more importantly, he wasn’t the kind of man to discard them once he grew bored, leaving them to fend for themselves.

For the nobility, handmaidens were possessions—objects to be used and abandoned at will. But at least within the walls of the castle, they were safe, provided for. Outside, stripped of their status and dependent on the whims of men, they wouldn’t survive for long.

Hutson was ruthless, but he was not cruel.

With his affairs settled, he stepped into the carriage, his mind already set on the path ahead. Stormhold awaited. And with it, the answers he sought.