Chapter Four: Truthful Lies

The next morning, the troupe continued on their journey toward Fragrant Leaf City. Following Hughie’s suggestion, rather than exhausting themselves in small villages where profits were meager, it was better to focus on rehearsing the new play and wait to showcase their talents in the big city. Clarice accepted this advice, and from that day forward, the troupe members seized every moment to rehearse "Turandot."

A single Gold Witt on this continent was roughly equivalent to two hundred yuan. Clarice, who had never seen much money in her life, considered accumulating a few hundred Gold Witts the ultimate short-term goal.

Yet, on reflection, she felt this approach was perhaps a touch too inhumane.

There were five carriages in total. The girls of the troupe monopolized four, leaving just one carriage and a wagon for the men.

By rights, the “transfer student” Hughie should have been sent to the back with the others. However, Clarice, in a rare moment of “great mercy,” allowed Hughie to share a carriage with her instead of squeezing in with the men.

This drew endless envy from the male actors—good looks certainly had their advantages.

Yet Hughie did not share their sentiment. If he could, he’d much rather squeeze in with the men than endure the girls’ endless appraisals and chatter about him.

Clarice’s motives were different. She felt it was time to learn more about this boy who had dropped into their lives so unexpectedly. Hughie’s words the previous day had deeply surprised her; such insight and wisdom were not traits found in ordinary boys.

“Fink, first I must thank you for your advice yesterday. I never imagined a young man could understand so much and be so astute. Also, I was amazed by the script you gave me; I had never heard of it before, yet it’s brilliant. I’m sure, if performed well, it will become a classic of the continent. But that makes me all the more curious—are you truly a messenger sent by the gods?”

Hughie offered Clarice a polite bow. “I’m sorry, Captain Clarice. Before, I didn’t know where I was and feared my cruel and ruthless master might be nearby, so I dared not reveal my identity. However, now that I know this is the Fansa region, I am certain I am far beyond my master’s reach. He cannot catch up to me or kill me now. So, I can tell you the truth.”

Daisy blinked her large, beautiful eyes and asked, “So you were a servant? And you had a terrible master?”

“Yes, beautiful Miss Daisy. My master’s name is Imogen Killary, of the Killary family in the Frankish Empire. He is a seafaring explorer, a merchant, a beast hunter, and a smuggler of alchemical materials.”

“That sounds like a very lucrative profession,” Clarice remarked, ever focused on profit, distilling Hughie’s elaborate lies into a single word: money.

“It is indeed lucrative, and my master’s business is vast. He owns a large fleet, and his trade spans the three continents.”

“Then why did you run away?” Clarice asked.

Hughie replied politely, “Imogen Killary is a very cruel master; he would tolerate no one contradicting his will. I was his personal attendant for three years. That position may sound prestigious, but being so close to a tyrant is terrifying. I have witnessed him kill those who made the slightest mistake in their work. He would tie stones to their legs, throw them into the sea, and watch them sink, screaming in despair and begging for mercy, while he laughed from the deck. Sometimes, when sea beasts approached the fleet, he would feed some of his attendants to them.”

Daisy, Lanty, and the others covered their mouths, their faces pale with horror. “Goodness, that’s terrifying.”

Clarice eyed Hughie skeptically. “Then how did you escape? And how do you know so much?”

“Although Imogen Killary was cruel, he was also highly capable. In my three years with him, I learned much: cooking, business, and more. You know, sometimes an attendant needs to help with record-keeping, which let me understand his knowledge and learn enough to survive. My master arrived in the Lance Empire a month ago. After a storm damaged his fleet, he had to remain there for repairs. I found my chance, stole some of his alchemical possessions—including potions and a flying cloak—and escaped using the cloak. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize the cloak had limits. After some distance, it ran out of energy and I crashed into the wilderness. I was so frightened, flying randomly, I didn’t know if I had escaped his reach.”

“I see.” The girls responded with sympathetic understanding, full of compassion for Hughie’s plight.

The highest art of lying lies in the use of detail and fitting one’s circumstances. Hughie’s story not only included facts unknown to the others but also matched his current situation—he was, in both cases, a fugitive servant, hiding from pursuers. The only difference was, in reality, he was fleeing the Lance Empire, not another merchant.

The contrast was obvious.

The girls wouldn’t mind harboring a runaway servant from a noble merchant—nothing remarkable—but they certainly wouldn’t dare cross an entire empire. The benefit was, in future crises, Hughie could act exactly as any true fugitive would, without arousing suspicion. Moreover, his story matched the wild speculations the girls had made the night before—people always prefer to believe their own guesses. If you confirm their wild suspicions, they feel clever and satisfied.

Another aspect of a successful lie is distinguishing long-term and short-term aims. Many lies succeed for a time but unravel over the years. If you can’t set boundaries or control the time it takes to verify the lie, disaster will follow. Hughie’s choice of a distant foreign merchant as a cover was a mid-term deception. It sounded verifiable, as if anyone could check, but in truth, confirming it would take time.

In that window, Hughie would be safe and untouchable. By the time anyone uncovered the truth, he would be long gone.

The final advantage of this lie was that it so closely mirrored his real experiences that he could express his genuine hatred and loathing for his past without any need to conceal his emotions.

Emotionally, he didn’t want to harbor any fond illusions or disguises about the past.

The story itself might be fictitious, but the emotions behind it were entirely real.

This was a truthful lie.

What surprised Hughie was that Clarice seemed uninterested in the web he had so painstakingly spun. Her eyes shone with greed. “Alchemist’s tools? You mean you have an item that lets you fly? My goodness, where is it?”

Hughie replied helplessly, “It’s useless now—the energy is spent. In fact, when I crashed, it was lost somewhere in the wilderness.”

“Oh, you wastrel!” Clarice exclaimed, agitated. “Even a broken item should have been kept—its materials are precious. With a recharge, it would still be valuable, could fetch a high price. My goodness, should we go back and look for it?”

She began muttering to herself.

This woman was ignoring a mountain of gold for a phantom flying cloak. In truth, alchemists could indeed craft such things—Hughie himself was capable—but the materials required were so rare that only the contents of Hughie’s own ring were sufficient. Still, he had no intention of making one.

Heinz was right: the true pursuit of an alchemist was magic, not mere craftsmanship. Hughie’s resonance with the wind element meant it was better to master wind spells and truly fly, rather than waste energy and materials on a cloak. Wind Archmages could all fly, though at a great cost of magic, and such spells were beyond his current ability.

Perhaps realizing her folly, Clarice asked, “How much are your potions worth?”

Hughie thought for a moment. “I’m not sure. Not all alchemical goods are equally valuable.”

“I’ll wait until you’ve sold them, then,” Clarice replied, disappointed.

The girls were accustomed to Clarice’s fanaticism for money. Daisy, excited, asked Hughie, “What about your little black dog? And the two birds—what’s their story?”

Hughie smiled. “They’re my long-term companions. The two birds are Red and Green—a married pair. The little black dog…”

He noticed that when he called the little dragon a “black dog,” Xu let out a dissatisfied growl. Such a noble creature would not tolerate being demeaned.

Hughie smiled ruefully, stroking its head to soothe it. “His name is Xu. Remember to call him ‘he’—he’s a very dignified being. He dislikes being called ‘little black dog,’ so you may use his name.”

“Xu?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t expect him to have such character. May I hold him?”

“Hmm… Being unique often means being hard to approach. So, I suggest you give up that idea. Xu doesn’t like to be close to others, even if they’re beautiful—except for his own kind, of course,” Hughie explained.

Lanty comforted him, “No matter what, you’re free now. Don’t worry, the Captain may be greedy, but she’d never sell you back to your dreadful master. You can live well here.”

Clarice glared at Lanty. “Bad-mouthing others behind their backs, Lanty—watch your words. Calling me greedy… even if it’s true.” The last part she muttered with a sigh.

Daisy giggled. “No wonder you’re so remarkable—you cook well, write scripts, and know business so perfectly. Of course, your former master was a merchant.” Then, putting her hands to her heart, she recited as if declaiming poetry, “No wonder they say heroes rise from hardship. Difficult times make us grow. Oh, perhaps all our trials are the gods’ test. Once we overcome them, we’ll soar into the blue sky…”

Hughie was momentarily stunned, but on reflection, Daisy’s words rang true. Without the harsh survival struggle of Inferno Island, he might not have worked so hard or studied so diligently, nor would he now possess such vast knowledge and wealth.

Of course, Daisy’s musings weren’t really about Hughie; she was thinking that perhaps Violet’s current hardships were the prelude to their future glory. As for the price one must pay to become outstanding—well, that was something the young lady conveniently ignored.

People always prefer to see the bright side and avoid delving into the hardships.

After some thought, Hughie said, “Although I’ve told you about myself, I hope you’ll keep it secret. There are many in the troupe, and rumors could be troublesome.”

“Don’t worry, Fink, we won’t tell anyone. But how should we explain you to the others?” Daisy asked.

“Just say I’m a noble’s son who accidentally made a mistake while testing an alchemist’s flying cloak and ran into you all. How’s that for a story?” Hughie smiled.

“Oh, you little liar,” the girls laughed together.

Ah, Hughie sighed. On Inferno Island, he had to lie constantly. He hadn’t expected that, now he’d left, he would still have to lie just as much.

Perhaps the heavens had put him here simply to make him a lifelong liar.

Clarice asked, “Fink, now that you’ve escaped your dreadful master, can you tell me where you plan to go next?”

Hughie replied, “I have business in Fragrant Leaf City and will stay there a while. After that… I plan to travel the world.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. We’ll be staying in Fragrant Leaf City for some time as well—it’s rare to reach a big city, so we want as many chances to perform as possible. That means we can keep living together, right? And since you plan to travel, you don’t care where you go—you can stay with the troupe. Everyone loves your cooking,” Lanty said enthusiastically. That way, even if Fink managed to sell his potions in the city, she needn’t worry about him leaving immediately.

Hughie said coolly, “If you’ll have me, I don’t mind. But I fear my travels won’t be smooth. My cruel master will surely send people after me. Though I left false clues to mislead him, those tricks will only delay him for a time. Sooner or later, he’ll catch up. So, I doubt I’ll be able to stay with you for long.”

“We’d love to have you. But don’t worry about your master’s pursuit—he’s not Emperor Stryker; his reach isn’t so long,” Clarice said warmly.

After witnessing Hughie’s extraordinary bearing and sharp mind, Clarice had begun to truly like him. Her invitation came from the heart, untainted by thoughts of money.

Hughie thought for a moment, then nodded. “Let’s hope so.”