Lord of Mysteries: Return of the Stars!

If he had stayed in that village, would his child have grown up by now, married, had children, and lived a good life?

If he had stayed in that village...

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If he had stayed in that village all along.

This was the question the old man had pondered for years. He also knew that time could not flow backward, and he could not return to that crossroads to make a different choice.

He came here to tell this story out of guilt, to repent for past sins. He wanted to go to court to face the long-delayed judgment.

But he didn't know whether the court would accept the absurd actions of an old man like him.

Perhaps those judges and jurors would simply think he was senile, scoff at his story, or even praise his imagined tale as a good one, then casually recount it as a drunken joke.

This question plunged Hastur into silence.

The Kingdom of Loen would never allow an old man to stand in court and admit that his past killings were wrong.

Because then the one at fault wouldn't just be the old man, but also the royals and nobles.

And such a confession would indirectly admit that the war between the Kingdom of Loen and Feysac was far less righteous than the common people believed.

That would never be permitted.

If the old man's story had a different angle, if the person saved by the village was a Feysac soldier, and the destroyed place was a village in the Kingdom of Loen,

Then the royal family and nobles would certainly have the old man tell the story at a crucial moment, letting the people witness Feysac's cruelty and terror.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.

Was the old man wrong?

Hastur had no right to pass judgment, but if he were the protagonist of the story, he would have silently taken the girl who loved him dearly once he healed, left the battlefield, and found a quiet little village to live out his days.

"Sir, I don't think I can help you in this matter," Hastur finally said, his tone heavy and apologetic.

If he got involved in this, the only outcome would be another noble's drowned body in the Tassok River.

"Your words are the greatest help to me."

The old man stood up shakily, with no sign of disappointment on his face, as if he had expected this response.

"Sir, many things are beyond our power to change," Hastur said after a long pause.

"Yes, I understand."

The old man's tone was relaxed, a faint smile on his face. After bidding Hastur farewell, he turned and left.

"..."

For a moment, Hastur felt the urge to pull back the curtain and take another look at this weary old man.

But he resisted the impulse. Even if he saw him again, he would be unable to offer any help.

After the old man left, Hastur sat quietly in his seat for a long time. In the end, he sighed deeply. He realized he couldn't just sit back and let the old man die.

After a moment of silence, Hastur stood up and left through the back door. After greeting Lecturer Fron, he took a carriage to the nearest courthouse.

When he arrived at the court, Hastur checked his pocket watch, 5:20. There were still forty minutes before the courthouse closed.

He got off the carriage and stood near the courthouse entrance to wait.

If he guessed correctly, the old man should already be on his way here.

From the moment the old man began his confession to the moment of letting go, Hastur had understood his intentions.

Even though the old man knew how absurd and laughable his actions were, even though they would change nothing, he still did it, because he was old.

In the face of death, some become gripped by terror, while others, after looking back at their lives, find peace.

The old man belonged to the latter. So he would come, and today was the day!

After waiting for about ten minutes, Hastur saw an old man step down from a carriage.

The man was dressed in a black formal suit, leaning on a cane.

His neatly combed silver hair and deeply etched wrinkles carved by time gave him a chiseled, solemn look.

His deep brown eyes reflected a calm born of hardship, and his faint smile conveyed composure in the face of life's ups and downs.

At a glance, Hastur recognized the old man who had sought his help earlier.

Looking at the courthouse before him, the place where evil was judged, the old man instinctively bowed slightly, then straightened and walked forward with firm steps.

As he approached the entrance, Hastur stepped forward and said, "Sir, only the living can atone for what they regret."

The old man paused, studied Hastur carefully, and replied with a smile, "May your future be without regret."

"Your's as well."

"This has been a surprising afternoon."

Under Hastur's gaze, the old man smiled and walked into the courthouse.

Hastur didn't follow or say anything more. He just silently watched the old man's figure disappear into the hall that symbolized judgment.

...

"Baron Campbell, we meet again. Thank you for your generosity last time."

Under the night sky, in the Glaint residence, Hastur once again met with Xio and Fors.

In order to get access to Mr. A's Beyonder gathering, Hastur sought an introduction through Glaint, claiming he was interested in such Beyonder events.

To his surprise, Xio came with Fors this time.

"Miss Xio, I must also thank you for your contribution in rescuing Professor Wayne last time," Hastur replied with a smile.

Three question marks flashed above Fors' head. She glanced at Hastur, then kept staring at Xio, trying to figure out the relationship between the two through their conversation and expressions.

"Just an unexpected hire."

Xio couldn't bear Fors' gaze and could only give a simple explanation. Seeing Fors show a thoughtful look, Xio subtly nudged her shoulder, signaling her to pay attention to her demeanor.

"It's getting late, we can head out now."

"Yes, I believe this will be a very interesting night."

Hastur smiled and left with Fors and Xio by carriage. As for Viscount Glaint, he had matters to attend to that night and couldn't break away. He simply asked Hastur to inquire again about the Apothecary potion formula on his behalf.

Last time, Fors had taken on this task, but there had been no news since. It wasn't until recently that she contacted him and politely apologized, saying she couldn't find those vampires hidden in the night.

In truth, Fors had merely asked Xio to issue a task to search for vampires, and then… nothing more happened.

The carriage drove for over ten minutes before reaching their destination, a wooden cabin by the roadside. The area looked desolate and remote.

The three got out of the carriage and came to the wooden door. Xio spoke: "It's best not to reveal your true identity at these Beyonder gatherings."

To prepare for this gathering, she had gone through no less than three layers of disguise, and even padded her shoes to add a bit of height.

Yes, she swore it was just a slight boost, purely for disguise purposes, not because she disliked being short.

Hastur had also disguised himself, wearing a black robe that covered his entire body and a black hood to conceal his hair color. His face was hidden behind a casually bought cat-faced mask.

He carried a cane that could conceal a sword, which he had found while going through the original owner's belongings, a great find.

The cane was entirely silver-gray, with a large whitish-yellow crystal embedded at the head. A small section below the head was twisted in a spiral design, and inside the cane was a slender, elegant sword about sixty centimeters long.

Hastur tried drawing the sword and tested its strength. It was thin, very sharp, could easily cut through hard bone, and the metal was of excellent quality, finely forged and resistant to chipping.

He suspected this sword might be some kind of Beyonder weapon, though he hadn't yet discovered any special effects.

Seeing that Hastur and Fors were ready, Xio walked up to the wooden door and knocked with a rhythm of three long and two short taps.

Creak, the door slowly opened. Inside were already quite a few attendees, most concealing their true appearances in various ways. Only a few openly showed their real faces.

The three entered, and the door was shut again by a servant.

Their arrival drew everyone's attention, and among them, Mr. A's gaze was the most unsettling.

His eyes were like two slippery tentacles, crawling over people as he looked at them, seemingly trying to strip away their clothes and peer deep within. It gave off a disgusting, goosebump-inducing feeling.

This made Hastur immediately recognize which one was Mr. A, but he said nothing, instead deliberately showing a curious expression.

Xio introduced, "That's Mr. A, a powerful Beyonder, and the convener of this gathering."

Hastur nodded silently, while Fors looked over the two blackboards standing at the front, covered with line after line of words.

Xio then explained some of the trading rules to Hastur, who was attending such a gathering for the first time.

The content on the blackboards listed the trades attendees wanted to make.

They would clearly write what they were seeking and what they were willing to offer in return. If someone was interested, the trade could be completed directly.

All transactions were notarized by Mr. A to prevent any fraud.

Hastur listened quietly, then followed Fors' example and began writing his own requests on the board.

In addition to the Land Rhinoceros's core horn crystal, he also wrote down the Apothecary potion formula and a few other random things.

He didn't ask for Roselle's diary here, that would attract too much attention.

He could already feel Mr. A's gaze occasionally falling on him, as if measuring something.

Soon, trades were completed one by one before the trio's eyes.

But by the end of the gathering, there was still no response regarding Hastur's requests for the Apothecary potion formula or the Land Rhinoceros's core horn crystal.

"What a failed gathering. Seems I'll have to ask Greg for help."

Hastur muttered inwardly. His Lawyer potion was nearly digested, and he needed to quickly gather the Barbarian potion ingredients.

Just as Hastur was feeling disappointed about the night's event, a servant quietly approached him, handed him a note, and whispered: "This is from Mr. A."