Chapter 394: Inexperienced

"Hermes is exceptionally well-connected," Hecate said.

Richard didn't respond. His gaze shifted to Nemesis.

"Nemesis should be far more familiar with this Major Adept Scholar's methods than I am."

With a single sentence, every gaze at the table was drawn to Nemesis's tilted scale.

Nemesis did not deny it.

"He is my mentor."

Faint gasps rippled around the table.

Richard quietly gave himself a mental thumbs-up.

He was hyping up Professor MacFie and Catherine, but in truth, he was also hyping himself.

After all, everyone here knew that he, Hermes, also had a Major Adept Scholar standing behind him.

And that he and Nemesis were allies.

That realization earned the two young people an extra degree of reverence from everyone present.

Dionysus was the first to change his attitude.

Having successfully illuminated his facial shadow last time, he had not only completely stabilized the jar of twilight energy that could make seals "yawn," but he had also prepared a few other tricks to properly show off.

Now, he swallowed the words right back down.

In front of two young people backed by Major Adept Scholars, his little parlor tricks were far too unpresentable to bring out.

Dionysus picked up his Double-Handled Kantharos and took a sip.

The faint displeasure in his heart welled up like sour bile after a night of heavy drinking, but he was a smart man and kept it entirely off his face.

Jealousy was one thing, but on the surface, he still followed the crowd and forced a somewhat fawning expression, reaching behind him to pull out two wine bottles.

"Nemesis, these are two bottles of my latest vintage reserve."

"Please pass them on to the professor for me. Consider it a toast from Dionysus."

Richard looked at the two wine bottles, thoroughly amused.

He had merely helped elevate Catherine's status a bit, and Dionysus's precious vintage had already been delivered to their door.

"I'll accept them on her behalf," Richard said, taking the bottles. "The professor will definitely be pleased when he finds out."

Heracles, on the other hand, looked like he had just had his eyes opened.

"I only knew that Major Adept Scholars held high status and were indispensable to the entire mystical side."

"But this is my first time hearing about this." He shook his head. "That Scholars possess this kind of frontal combat strength."

"Logically speaking..." Heracles's voice carried a hint of reluctance.

"Direct confrontations should be what Hunters do best. Aren't Scholars supposed to... hide in the back writing papers and flipping through books?"

As soon as he said this, Demeter uncharacteristically spoke up on her own.

"Ordinary Scholars are indeed weak in direct combat. Their abilities are all in their heads, not their fists.

If you rushed them face-to-face, their heads would be relocated before they even had time to chant."

"But a few traditions are exceptions."

"Which ones?" Heracles pressed.

"The Moon Hunting Tradition." Demeter extended a finger. "And the Abyss Tradition."

"Plus a few special minor traditions."

"The Scholars produced by these traditions hit even harder than Hunters when they make a move."

"A Moon-Hunting Scholar won't match strength with you; they'll invoke your name.

Once it's invoked, the moonlight will shine wherever you run."

"The stronger you are, the longer and darker the shadow you cast behind the veil, and the darker the shadow, the easier it is to invoke."

"Abyss Scholars go without saying; those are people who delve downward. You'd best pray you never encounter one in your lifetime."

Heracles listened, his eyebrows twitching wildly.

Richard sat in his seat, secretly amused as he listened to their back-and-forth.

The whole table was chatting enthusiastically; the mere mention of a Major Adept Scholar overturning a table was enough to leave them in awe.

If they only knew... that he was currently plotting against two Virtuosos alongside two Major Adept professors.

Who knew what kind of expressions they'd make.

Richard suppressed his amusement.

Some things were better kept as thoughts; putting them out on the table would get people killed.

There were no words on the pan of Nemesis's scale, but inwardly, she was just as pleased.

She knew Richard was intentionally building her prestige.

With the mood set, it was time to talk business.

New words surfaced on the pan of Nemesis's scale.

"I have completely finished deciphering the texts you entrusted to me last time."

She reached out and produced a stack of items, sorted them into categories, and pushed them to the center of the table.

"Returning them to their rightful owners."

Prometheus was the first to retrieve his portion.

"Thank you for the hard work," he said, offering a rare polite remark.

When Demeter retrieved hers, she added a remark.

"Nemesis's deciphering skills are sharper than quite a few titled old Scholars in the Imperial Capital."

Everyone present caught the implication; it would be absurd for a Practitioner to possess such deciphering skill without a Major Adept personally guiding her.

When it came time to pay, they brought out the agreed-upon items, mostly resources for the Moon Hunting Tradition.

It was at this moment that Richard finally realized something.

Catherine was also preparing to walk the path of a Moon-Hunting Scholar.

It was no wonder; with Professor MacFie backing her, following this path was the smoothest route.

This was also why everyone had absolutely no doubts about the identity of the professor backing her.

Deciphering, Moon-Hunting resources, ancient Gaelic texts... everything matched perfectly.

Aside from the Moon-Hunting resources, there were also some gold pounds and a few bottles of Ether Condensate—the general currency of the mystical side.

Nemesis accepted them one by one, and a single word surfaced on the scale's pan.

"Satisfied."

It was Richard's turn.

He returned the items Heracles and Demeter had entrusted him to appraise, one by one.

"Heracles." Richard pushed the purified cursed objects over. "Everything you need to know is written in the report."

"The lead cylinder seals something suspected to be a badge or token. I suggest you find a more secure place to handle it."

Heracles took the items and nodded.

"I trust you. Just name your commission."

"Ether Condensate will do," Richard said.

Heracles took a small bag of Condensate from behind him and pushed it over.

Richard swept a glance over it with his Spirit Vision; the quality was good. It was the medium-concentration type with the astringent scent typical of a battlefield.

For Demeter's share, Richard returned the ear of wheat she had asked him to appraise.

She took out a small packet of Condensate and pushed it to him.

With the transactions concluded, it was time for the intelligence segment.

"Old rules. We'll start with me."

Dionysus held his Double-Handled Kantharos.

"Last month, I tried recording that song myself."

"I hired a female singer who hadn't yet been tainted by that thing to sing 'Tipperary', recording it line by line onto a new wax cylinder.

While recording, the room was perfectly clean, and she sang it exactly like the original."

"When it played back, it was different." Dionysus lowered his voice.

"The female voice in the wax cylinder wasn't singing 'Tipperary'. She was reciting names."

"Reciting them one by one, and they were all names of the living. She didn't stumble once."

Silence fell across the table.

"I copied the names down. There were nineteen in total," Dionysus said. "I asked someone to look into these nineteen people."

"I stopped when I reached the sixth one."

"The first six were all people who died inside the Imperial Capital over the past half-month.

The causes of death varied wildly—gas leaks, heart failure, slipping into the water... Not a single one connected to another."

A chill slowly crept up the back of Richard's neck.

Prometheus's mass of red-gold flame flickered.

"Since Dionysus brought it up, I have a similar matter on my end."

"From that colony in the inland New Continent where 'everyone looks the same', someone brought out a living person last month."

"Brought them out for what?" Demeter asked.

"Research," Prometheus said.

"The people in my master's network managed to obtain a copy of the research logs."

"The person who was brought out couldn't say their own name."

"That thing in the inland New Continent steals people's names."

Richard slowly tightened his grip on his knees.

Nemesis's scale tilted slightly at this moment.

Words condensed on the left pan.

"Since we're talking about the north, I have a matter concerning the sky."

Gazes around the table shifted over.

"Since the onset of winter this year, the sound of a procession passing through has been heard at night in the northern Gaelic Highlands."

"There are horns at the front and hoofbeats at the rear. Thousands upon thousands of hooves stepping through the empty air, stepping with absolute stability."

"The local elders call it the 'Hunt in the Sky'."

"In the villages it passes, a few people are always missing the next day."

"What's more urgent is that this hunting procession has recently started heading south."

"It's following the direction of the war, heading straight for the industrial belt and the Imperial Capital."

At this time, Demeter also shared her intelligence.

"Since the beginning of spring, ancient sacrificial customs in the countryside—so old that no one remembers them—have been reviving on their own, one by one."

"Those newcomers underground woke the customs up themselves.

Following old routines from thousands of years ago, they are coaxing the villagers step by step to offer sacrifices downward."

Hearing this, Heracles let out a heavy breath from beneath his Lion-Mouth Mask.

"I encountered a talking evil creature."

"It wasn't just blindly repeating?" Dionysus asked.

"Unclear," Heracles said.

"It shouted a sentence at me. It yelled, 'You are also from over there.'"

"I didn't understand it at the time, but I pondered it for a long time after coming back."

"It likely considered living humans and itself... to be the exact same kind of thing."

After a round of sharing intelligence, the mood at the table sank to rock bottom. Not a single person was optimistic about the Imperial Capital during the Day of Mourning.

"However," Dionysus broke the silence, his tone somewhat carefree.

"As for this Day of Mourning, it's obvious that the denser the population, the greater the danger."

He drained the contents of his cup in one gulp.

"I certainly don't want to stay in that maelstrom in the Imperial Capital. When the time comes, I'll head out and find a sparsely populated village to get a peaceful night's sleep.

I'll come back after the Day of Mourning passes."

He spoke frankly. Not a single person at this table was a fool; seeking safety and avoiding harm was basic instinct.

Demeter nodded. "My fields are in the countryside, where the land is vast and the people are few. No major chaos will break out there. I'll just guard my fields."

Heracles's territory was in the northern wilderness, far away from the Imperial Capital.

Prometheus was fundamentally not active in the Imperial Capital; his fire burned very steadily.

Everyone at the table, except for Richard and Catherine, was calculating to hide far away on that day.

Hecate brought the discussion to a close.

"Alright, the Day of Mourning is imminent. Take care of yourselves."

"May you all survive that night safely."

"We will set the date for our next gathering after the Day of Mourning has passed."

..................

The next day, Imperial Capital University.

By the time Richard arrived, the two professors were already there.

"Did you bring the item?" Mortimer asked.

Richard nodded, pressing a hand against his chest over his clothes, right where the triple-shell sealed lead box rested.

"Come down with me."

Mortimer led him down toward the basement of the Petrie Building.

Eventually, the artificial chiseling marks underfoot vanished.

An extremely narrow door was embedded in the raw rock.

The door featured only a coiled ring of ancient inscriptions, traced out stroke by stroke with silver wire.

"Imperial Capital University is built on an active ether zone. You know this," Mortimer said as he walked.

"The entire campus is one massive sealing array, paved all the way from the material realm into the shallows behind the veil."

He stopped in front of the narrow door.

"The Major Adepts who set up the array centuries ago specifically left an opening here that can connect to the depths of the veil."

"It is a special weak point."

"Other weak points are natural tears; anyone can enter, but they won't necessarily make it out.

This spot was artificially carved out, and the surroundings have been welded with centuries of seals. There are established rules for both entering and exiting."

"That matter you need to handle," Mortimer said, looking at him, "can only be done behind the veil."

"Around here, the only place where you can safely descend to that line and be guaranteed to be pulled back out is this exact spot."

Looking at the narrow door, Richard understood.

MacFie placed his leather bag on the ground, crouched down, and began taking things out one by one.

An engraving knife, grayish-white sealing wax, holy water, and several scrolls of rubbings wrapped in oil paper.

"Once we're down there, the division of labor will be like this," the white-haired giant said.

"I will guard you." MacFie patted his chest.

"The lord of the hunt is the master of the Wild Hunt. It recognizes Moon-Hunting rules.

If it really turns hostile, I can block it for a moment."

Mortimer nodded.

"The Law of Name Substitution is ultimately a transaction spanning both sides of the veil. Whether this ledger holds up or not requires someone standing by, watching it word by word.

If it dares to tamper with the accounts, I'll dismantle it for you on the spot."

"But the two of us combined," Mortimer shifted his tone, "are still only two Major Adepts."

"In front of the lord of the hunt, two Major Adepts can't suppress it."

"If it turns hostile and stomps a hoof down on the shallows, we can only hold it back briefly."

"Therefore." Mortimer put down the pen in his hand.

"We still need to pull in two more Virtuosos. The two I mentioned to you last time."