JUDICATOR JANE 6 - CHAPTER 10 (Patreon)

The Way Back

The King’s Road stretched ahead like a ray of light—straight, unwavering, untouched by time or weather. Mint adjusted the strap of his satchel and cast a glance at the boy trudging beside him. High King Jeric Arctavian, Lord of the Four Realms, Protector of the Sacred Oath—and, at the moment, a thoroughly disgruntled eleven-year-old.

Mint kept his eyes forward, mind fixed on returning to Gral’gor, Eli’va, and the rest of the demons. Without his healing powers, what would happen to the demons who were injured? There was only one problem.

“I should very much like to take a rest,” Jeric whined, hurrying to keep up. “We didn’t even have breakfast. I don’t know how you expect us to keep going like this. In fact, as your king, I hereby order a respite.”

Mint didn’t break stride. He closed his eyes and let out a slow, frustrated breath. “We don’t have any food, remember? You ate the last of it last night.”

They’d finished off the final scraps scavenged from Brael, a half-abandoned village two nights back. Things had only gotten worse since. Most townsfolk were hoarding what little they had and eyeing every stranger like a threat. Mint had heard more than a few rumors about a shadow rising in the east. Between that and the patrols sweeping the roads, travel had slowed to a crawl—and it was wearing them both down.

“I know you’re hiding something,” Jeric accused. “You always sneak something away for yourself!”

Without a word, Mint pulled the satchel from his shoulder and shoved it at him. “You want to check? Be my guest.” He stormed ahead, eyes fixed on a distant plume of smoke curling from a farmhouse on the eastern horizon.

Stupid Jeric. Always complaining. I should leave him right now. He looked back.

Jeric was kneeling along the side of the road, rifling through the bag with growing desperation. Mint crossed his arms and drew a deep breath, forcing the anger back down. His stomach growled—sharp and hollow—but the truth remained: they were in this together. And, like it or not, Jeric was still his king.

A moment later, the boy caught up to him, eyes wide and worried. “What are we going to do, Mint?”

“We keep trying,” Mint said. “Maybe that farm has something for us. Maybe they’ll trade food for labor. And if not…”

He left it unsaid. Stealing to survive wasn’t a new concept to him—not after growing up on the streets of Dawnskeep. This time, my Luck has to come through. But even with nine Luck, the last few villages had yielded nothing but locked doors and suspicious stares. Especially when a boy inexplicably nearly level fifty was the one knocking.

“Come on,” he said, picking up the pace. “Let’s move.”

***

When the wide dirt road split off from the King’s Road, Mint paused. Sprawled out before them was, quite possibly, the largest farming complex he’d ever seen. A grand central manor stood at the heart of it, surrounded by silos, barns, smaller huts, and a handful of buildings he couldn’t even begin to categorize. But what stood out most—by far—was the miniature palace. Even from a distance, its white walls and pink-tipped spires caught the eye like a beacon.

The two boys passed through a set of wooden gates and stepped into a hive of activity. The farm was alive with motion—men and women hauling sacks of grain, oversized pumpkins, and crates brimming with colorful vegetables. Somewhere nearby, something delicious was cooking. Mint rose on his toes to catch more of the scent, his stomach already growling in anticipation.

“Hey! You there,” barked a brusque voice. Two men approached, their faces tight with suspicion.

Mint straightened. “Uh—we’re looking for work,” he said quickly. “In exchange for a meal and a roof for the night.”

One of the men narrowed his eyes. “Work, eh? How in the blazes is a boy like you such a high level?”

Mint dropped his gaze. “It’s… a long story.”

“Bet it is,” the man muttered. “Well, there’s plenty of work here. Come on. You can make your case to the boss.”

They followed the man through the bustling farm. It didn’t take long to see that labor was in high demand. Workers darted past in all directions, each one with their hands full and heads down.

“Something feels off about this place,” Jeric whispered. He nodded toward the man leading them—specifically, the pink ribbon tied into his hair.

Mint looked around. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but now he saw them everywhere—pink bows pinned to shirts, tied around sleeves, woven into hair. Even the man leading them wore his with surprising care, binding his dark ponytail.

They wound their way to the foot of the miniature palace. Up close, it was even smaller than it had appeared, almost doll-like in scale.

“Wait here,” the man instructed. He pushed open one of the double doors and ducked inside.

Mint took in the details. The building was made entirely of painted wood, more decorative than defensive. A ring of fresh flowers encircled the entrance, and along the outer wall stood crudely carved wooden statues—each one depicting a woman with an outstretched arm, her expression both serene and commanding.

Around the corner, Mint spotted a boy about his age peeking out. Their eyes met, and the boy vanished before Mint could say a word.

The door creaked open again.

A tall man in black stepped out. He wore spectacles and a no-nonsense expression that instantly set him apart from everyone else. He looked nothing like a farmer—more like a scholar or a magistrate. Maybe even a Doctor.

Mint, on instinct, activated Vitality’s Eye.

Rothby Inglit (Level 47)

Human

Constitution: 26

Regeneration: 0

Health: 260/260

Mint’s cheeks flushed as he read the man’s level—just two below his own.
 “Uh… hello, sir,” he began cautiously. “My friend and I are heading east, toward Grandia, and we were hoping to find a hot meal and a place to rest for the night. Of course, we’re more than willing to work for it.” He elbowed the boy beside him. “Right, Mildew?”

“Oh! Err—yes. If it’s not too tiresome, that is,” Jeric added hastily, straightening his back in a show of awkward dignity.

The man in black said nothing. He simply stepped aside.

Behind him, a girl no older than four swept forward in mock regal fashion. She wore a frilly pink dress that shimmered in the light, and atop her head rested a delicate silver tiara, gleaming with tiny gemstones.

“Presenting Her Majesty, the Royal Princess of the Magical Land of Flowers and Butterflies—Lily Crass,” the man in black intoned, dropping to one knee with his head bowed low. The two men who had brought them in did the same.

Mint stood frozen, too stunned to respond. His brain scrambled to process the situation.
What in the world…?

Instead of speaking, he did the only thing that made sense in the moment—he activated Vitality’s Eye and inspected her.

Lily Crass (Level 3)

Human

Constitution: 3

Regeneration: 0

Health: 30/30

“Hmph!” the girl declared, crossing her arms. “More boys. I wish a lady would come again.” She flicked her finger forward. “You have to kneel. Everybody kneels. 'Cause I’m a princess.”

Mint exchanged a baffled glance with Jeric. The man in black still had his head bowed, while the two men behind the girl subtly motioned downward with their hands, urging them to kneel. In front of them, the young 'princess' waited expectantly, lips pursed and chin lifted in royal defiance.

With a shrug, Mint dropped to one knee. Might as well play along.

“Oh, thank you, Your Majesty, for allowing us to visit your beautiful kingdom,” he said with exaggerated grace. “We are only weary travelers, but upon seeing your wondrous land, we were enchanted and compelled to investigate. Thank you for gracing us with your presence.”

“Lovely,” Lily announced with a pleased nod. Then she turned to Jeric. “And you? What do you got to say?”

Jeric’s eyes darted between Mint and the girl. “Don’t be ridiculous! What kind of farce is this? I’m not bowing to anyone. You’re just a child! Why don’t you go get your mommy?”

Lily’s cheeks turned bright red. Her lower lip trembled as her eyes grew puffy with tears. She drew a long, angry breath and growled through it.

“You’re a mean person! Why can't you be nice?” She spun toward the man in black. “Rothy! Put him in the dungeon!”

Without a word, Rothby rose smoothly, seized Jeric by the arm, and yanked him forward.

“What?! Dungeon?” Jeric sputtered. “Unhand me! You can’t do this! Do you know who I am?!”

Mint scrambled to his feet. “Wait! He didn’t mean that—he’s just—!”

But it was already done. The man in black dragged Jeric through the palace doors without so much as a backward glance. Mint started to follow, but the two men stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Easy,” one muttered. “Don’t get any ideas.”

Mint backed off, heart pounding. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lily wiping away tears, smearing her cheeks pink. She straightened, forcing a smile.

“Okay,” she said brightly, “you were saying? Something 'bout how much you love my kingdom?”

Mint gulped. “R-Right. Yes. The… Magical Land of Flowers and…”

“Butterflies,” Lily prompted.

“Yes, of course. Butterflies.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Glancing around, he noticed several workers staring at the scene—until, one by one, they returned to their tasks as if nothing had happened.

“I would, uh, love to see more of your kingdom,” he offered. “Would you mind showing me around?”

Lily beamed and clapped her hands giddily. “Certainly! Come on, this way!”

She skipped ahead, humming to herself. One of the men gave Mint a gentle prod, urging him forward.

He followed, dazed, his thoughts spinning.

What kind of madhouse have I stumbled into?

***

Eli’va stood amid the wreckage of an unknown village northwest of Grandia. When the call to retreat behind the city walls and into the wasteland had come, she and several other Infiltrators had been too far afield to make it back in time. Now, stranded on the western side of the Great Barrier, she was cut off from the rest of the horde. Scavenging for food, roaming the wilds like a beast, she raged at everything and everyone. Until now.

Jane had returned.

Her presence in Alur struck like a lightning bolt—what had once been a faint, distant connection now pulsed with vibrancy, constant and undeniable. Eli’va didn’t know where Jane was, only that the pull pointed vaguely northwest.

She moved through the charred remains of the village without pause. Whatever had razed this place had done so long ago. Lord Melkit’s shadow was growing, but it hadn’t reached this far. Yet. The terrors she had seen on the fringes of the dark shadow both chilled her to the bone and ignited the hunger for battle. She shook away the battle lust. From her understanding, Lord Melkit was an ally of Jane.

A half-garbed skeleton lay decomposing in the bones of a burned out house. Eli’va ignored it. Before Jane’s reemergence, she had been drowning in despair. Mint—her one responsibility, the only task Jane had entrusted to her—was gone. Even now, she had to bury the emotions deep: shame, bitterness, and something else she couldn’t quite name.

There were no certainties on the battlefield—something she knew all too well. Demons lived and died in the blink of an eye, particularly when wars raged. But Mint… It was her decision that doomed him. She had even failed to avenge his death, the enemy camp too well-fortified. When she saw Jane again, she expected a reckoning. Welcomed it.

But for now, she pressed on. The King’s Road stretched westward, with the Great Woods to the north. She would follow it until the Soul Binding pulled her elsewhere—or until she reached the Green Sea itself. Her mind wandered.

How did the mistress return so quickly? From everything Eli’va understood, Ur had taken nearly a thousand years to re-open his portal into Alur. The swarms of demons gathered around Jaridume waiting for their moment still resonated powerfully in her mind. Only her status as an Infiltrator had allowed her to be among the first to cross over.

Eli’va sniffed, picking up her pace.

Jane had defeated Ur at a mere level five. It was no surprise the Netherrealm had been little more than a bump in the road for her ever-growing dominion. No, Pogg would pay dearly for his arrogance.

And when Jane learned what happened to Mint?

Well. Eli’va might not be alive to see it—but compared to the storm Jane would unleash in her fury, the Netherrealm would feel like paradise.