Chapter 303: The First Scribe Commission

"I have a few things I'd like you to look at."

Richard sat across from her and pulled the cracked clay figurine from his bag.

It wasn't large—about the length of his palm—and the surface was a web of cracks.

"This one." Richard set it on the desk.

"I picked this up from a Hunter friend a while ago. It used to hold something, but the seal failed. Whatever was inside got out on its own, leaving an empty shell."

Isabella picked up the figurine, holding it close to examine.

After a moment, she frowned.

"These cracks started from the inside, and the brushwork of the seal..."

She turned the figurine over to check the base:

"This is from the South Sea. It's an indigenous witchcraft seal from the islands south of the Spice Islands. I've only seen a few examples in the literature; I've never dismantled one myself."

"Can it be?"

"Yes." Isabella set the figurine down.

"But it will take time. This kind of witchcraft seal is designed to 'trap.' It lulls the entity to sleep rather than locking it down completely. Now that the thing inside has woken up and left, the residual seal on the shell is a mess. I'll have to cross-reference it against the literature, bit by bit."

"Sorry to put you through the trouble."

"Leave it with me." Isabella pushed the figurine aside. "I'll dismantle it when I have time."

Richard pulled a second item from his bag.

It was the palm-sized scrap of Flag Fabric.

The moment the fabric hit the table, the ambient ether field in the room shifted.

Isabella stared at the scrap of hide, perfectly still.

"...This is from a high-tier evil creature."

"It is." Richard nodded.

"A new type of evil creature from the Ash Belt, called a Flagbearer. It uses the flag to rally lesser evil creatures into a formation. Whenever something is killed under it, the corruption flows backward through the flag into the Flagbearer."

Isabella picked up the scrap of Flag Fabric, examining it closely with her Spirit Vision.

She took her time, her frown deepening by the second.

After a long while, she set the piece of hide back on the desk.

"This thing... you want me to peel it apart layer by layer and untangle what's twisted up inside..."

Isabella shook her head.

"I can't."

Richard wasn't particularly surprised.

"The remnants tangled up in this are too chaotic," Isabella explained.

"The residual thoughts of dozens, maybe over a hundred different evil creatures are festering inside this single piece of hide. And beneath it all lies a strand of the Flagbearer itself."

"That is a high-tier evil creature. Its Rank is higher than mine."

She looked up at Richard.

"I'm only a Minor Adept."

"Then... this can't be dismantled?"

"I can't." Isabella pushed the Flag Fabric back toward him.

"You need to find Professor Mortimer."

Richard hesitated.

Showing up empty-handed to beg a Major Adept professor for help... he wasn't feeling very confident.

Isabella saw right through him.

"Are you finding it hard to ask the professor for a favor?"

Richard didn't deny it.

"That's the wrong way to think about it."

Isabella pointed her red pen at him.

"Students are supposed to be thick-skinned."

"Asking a mentor for help is a privilege."

She looked at her nephew.

"If you don't use it, it expires."

"If you don't use it now, by the time you become a teaching assistant or a lecturer... you'll have a bunch of your own students coming to you for help."

"Besides, Professor Mortimer personally wrote your letter of recommendation,"

Isabella continued.

"The fact that he was willing to write it means he tacitly acknowledges you as his student."

"If you bring him an item to dismantle, is he really going to kick you out?"

"And even if he does find it annoying..." She smiled.

"He'll still have to dismantle it. It's his own fault for writing that letter in the first place."

Richard didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He understood her logic, but there was one crucial reason he hadn't gone.

"...I don't even know where Professor Mortimer's office is, let alone whether he's actually at the university."

Full professors were all like that; they rarely stayed confined to a single university.

Isabella nodded.

"There's an office reserved for him in the Petrie Building, but he only goes there a few times a year."

She thought for a moment. "Tell you what, when I have some free time, I'll take you to look for him."

"Will... will he even be there?" Richard asked.

"Depends on your luck." Isabella wasn't too sure herself.

"His office door is always open, the desk buried under piles of documents waiting for his signature."

"I've knocked a few times, and more often than not, he's absent."

"When he is there... he's usually just holding a cup of tea so weak it has no color, staring blankly at some century-old article."

Since his aunt was willing to accompany him, Richard was naturally on board.

"Then I'd appreciate you taking me."

And so, the matter was settled.

Isabella called out toward the outer room.

"Clara."

"Mentor." Clara walked in briskly.

"Does that uncle of yours still have such a bad temper these days?"

Clara thought for a moment.

"Last month, he was modifying a gun for a Hunter. The Hunter rushed him a bit too much and got kicked out of the workshop."

Isabella nodded. She had expected as much.

"Richard has something he wants processed into a usable alchemical item."

Isabella nodded toward the scrap of Flag Fabric.

"It's material from a high-tier evil creature. The corruption is heavy, so ordinary alchemists can't handle it."

"We need a Minor Adept craftsman like your uncle to do it."

Clara looked at the scrap of Flag Fabric.

"...This needs to be thoroughly dismantled before he can even start working on it."

She glanced at Richard.

"My uncle won't accept materials that haven't been dismantled and untangled. The risk is too high."

"I know," Richard nodded. "I have to get past Professor Mortimer first."

"Right," Isabella agreed.

"Once Professor Mortimer dismantles and untangles it, Clara can take it to her uncle."

"I'll talk to my uncle for you first," Clara added.

"Whether or not he takes the job will depend on his mood when the time comes."

"Thanks, Clara."

Isabella rewrapped the scrap of Flag Fabric in three layers of salt-sprinkled oil paper.

"This is heavily corrupted. I wouldn't feel safe letting you keep it on you."

She placed the wrapped Flag Fabric into a drawer of her desk.

"Leave it with me for now. We'll bring it along when we go see Professor Mortimer."

Once she finished putting it away, she sat back down.

The map of the Western Front, covered in pinned red strings, hung behind Richard.

Richard shot another glance at it.

Isabella noticed.

"That's the distribution of seals on the front lines. The red strings are the ones that have already failed, or are about to."

"The war has dragged on to the point where those weak spots on the front lines are waking up, one after another."

"Sophia is heading to the front lines in a few days too."

Richard tensed.

"The front lines?"

"Yes," Isabella nodded. "Independent fieldwork."

"Is it dangerous?" Richard asked.

Isabella glanced at him.

"If it were highly dangerous, I wouldn't let her go."

"The fighting around Mons is already over."

She pointed to a pushpin on the map marking Mons.

"Things have stabilized there. There's no major danger."

"Mons..." Richard muttered.

"It should be in that bulletin the Compilation Group put out."

Isabella raised an eyebrow. "On the day of the retreat, the 'Angel of Mons' incident happened over there."

"Thousands of soldiers reported seeing a row of glowing archers in the sky holding off their pursuers, which allowed the retreat to succeed."

She picked up her grapefruit tea and took a sip.

"The higher-ups want to find out exactly what that was.

Whether someone from the mystical side intervened, or if it was something else entirely.

Sophia and a few other graduate students are heading out to investigate."

His aunt checked her watch, then went to the outer room to double-check Sophia's luggage.

"Send a telegram when you arrive," Isabella said.

"Don't worry, Mentor. I'll send you one every single day. Just don't get annoyed with me!"

Sophia was as energetic as ever.

...

Three days after Sophia left, Richard received a letter.

The parchment envelope bore no recipient, no address, and no postmark.

A cat insignia was pressed into the black wax seal.

He opened it. The card inside was signed simply with an "M."

The letter was brief.

"Now that you have achieved Signature and settled in the Imperial Capital, I am preparing to arrange assignments for you."

"This Friday at nine in the evening, keep your doors and windows shut. I will come over."

Richard tucked the card away.

Mrs. MacNeil had previously mentioned the "automatic scribe."

A Scholar would consume Ashcore Grass, poppy husks, bay leaves, and spirit moss. In a trance state, their hand would write on its own.

What they wrote were thought fragments from the Spirit Realm.

Most of it was garbage, but occasionally, one could dredge up a lost incantation or a disjointed prophecy.

While writing, a spirit medium had to be present to watch over them.

The base pay was two pounds, but if something valuable was recovered, that could multiply dozens of times over.

Madam Marie had told him that she would personally arrange his first commission after he reached Signature.

Now, that first commission had arrived.

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