I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The next morning, when Rogers, the father, came home from get off work, he brought back a telegram.

The telegram was sent by the Imperial University.

"The start of the school year has been moved up to August 20th. Please return to the capital as soon as possible."

Rogers handed the telegram to Richard.

Richard looked at that line of text.

"Why is it ahead of schedule?" the father asked.

"...It might be because of the situation," Richard said.

Rogers didn't ask any more questions.

He sat down at the table and looked at the bowl of oatmeal that Margaret had brought him.

Evelyn.

Evelyn poked her head out from the kitchen: "Dad?"

"Your brother is getting ready to go to Beijing next week."

"what?"

Evelyn came running out of the kitchen: "Why is it earlier than planned?"

"Something came up at school," Richard replied casually.

"oh."

Evelyn sat down at the table and pouted.

"I'd also like to make you a new rabbit professor."

"Let's do it." Richard reached out and ruffled his sister's hair. "Let's do it today."

"The almonds haven't been ground yet."

"Then we'll do it tomorrow."

"...Tomorrow?" Evelyn's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"real."

"Then I'll go grind the almonds now."

Evelyn dashed back to the kitchen.

………………

Before setting off back to the capital, Richard first went to a newsstand.

This time, the front page of the newspaper was neither about "gas main explosion" nor "industrial accident rescue".

The headline on the front page was in bold:

"All the states of Heimers Island are at war."

The newsstand owner sighed as he handed over the copy of the Mirror Daily.

"The fighting started at the end of July, but it's been reported in the newspapers until now."

Richard took the newspaper and unfolded it under the streetlight.

The front-page lead briefly explained the origins of this war.

The story begins at the southernmost tip of the Heimers Peninsula, in a small state called Selenenia.

In mid-July, the state's archbishop, who is also the de facto ruler of the state, was present.

He collapsed suddenly in his own cathedral after finishing his morning prayers.

The cause of death was cardiac arrest, which was described as having "no external injury, no poisoning, and no known symptoms."

Richard stopped under the streetlight when he saw this line of text.

It was cardiac arrest again.

He continued reading.

For decades, Archbishop Selene has been the nominal head of the "religious alliance" of several old states in southern Heimers Island.

The religious alliance wields considerable influence among priests, clergy, and religious nodes in the southern states of Heimers Island.

The newspaper didn't mention any religious milestones, but instead wrote that it "enjoys an irreplaceable position in the hearts of the people."

Richard understood.

Religious alliances are religious organizations in the world.

On this side of the curtain lies a network of sacrificial scars accumulated over hundreds of years.

That old bishop was the actual owner of this network.

With his fall, the ownership of that net became vacant.

Several old states in the south have each come forward to claim that they have the right to inherit.

The two newly emerging, most militarily powerful states in the north jumped out to oppose it.

Two ancient continental powers, having crossed the sea, each supported one side.

In mid-July, the archbishop collapsed.

On July 20, a special force from a northern state crossed the mountain pass and seized the Selenia Cathedral.

On July 22, the Southern Alliance launched a counterattack.

On July 25, the entire Heimers Island was placed under a state of war.

On July 28, the two major powers of the Old World formally announced the mobilization of their respective allies.

In early August, the news was allowed to be published.

Richard closed the newspaper after reading this far.

The sparks have been ignited; war is about to break out on the Old World.

He folded the newspaper and put it in the inside pocket of his coat.

On his way home, he passed a conscription notice.

Under that notice, there were seven or eight young people in plain clothes standing in line.

At the very end of the line was a boy, so thin that his shoulder bones protruded, and his sleeves were patched.

He was holding an application form in his hand, the handwriting crooked and messy.

As Richard passed by him, he heard him talking to the person in front of him.

There's no work to do at home.

"Factory downsizing."

"Soldiers are provided with meals."

"It's good that they provide meals," said the person in front. "Soldiers really do provide meals."

The Empire's wartime warning was issued on August 7th, and newspapers published full-page notices:

The national railway system has entered "wartime control".

All passenger train timetables have been readjusted, with priority given to military trains and civilian passenger trains reduced by half each day.

In terms of factories, all military-related industries nationwide were placed under military control.

Steel mills, coal mines, gunpowder factories, textile mills (military wool fabrics), railway locomotive factories, shipyards, etc.

In Bristol, a medium-sized industrial city dominated by coal mining and textiles, most factories were classified as "secondary industries".

Rogers received a notification from the factory.

His engineering company, which builds bridges across city canals, is not currently under military control.

"……fine."

Rogers handed the notice to his wife: "It won't affect anything for now."

"...Then our family," Margaret asked.

"Everything at home remains the same."

"Evelyn's Baking Academy Next Year"

"The same as before."

Rogers folded the notice and put it into his drawing folder:

"The Royal Culinary Academy is not under military control."

Rogers looked up and glanced at the family photo hanging on the living room wall.

It was filmed last year when Richard was in poor health.

He was standing next to his father at that time, and he was about as thin as his sister.

He's now taller than his father.

Rogers didn't say anything.

He picked up the cup of cold tea on the table and took a sip.

………………

By early August, the invitation for this gathering still hadn't arrived.

They should be arriving soon, judging by the time.

That evening, Richard was packing his things.

The streetlights were on outside the window, and a horse-drawn carriage returning home at night drove away across the stone-paved road.

Just then, a ripple appeared on the still water that Richard had created through his "Quiet Observation".

A mass of ether is coalescing.

Richard stood by the window without moving.

The condensed ether was deliberately suppressed and contained, squeezed into the window of an ordinary house in the slag alley, as if afraid of disturbing someone.

He recognized the weight of this ether; it belonged to the grey-robed messenger.

Hecate probably thought the fawn would throw a tantrum, so she simply didn't send it.

Maybe the little deer just didn't want to come.

The mass of gray outside the window slowly condensed into a tall figure.

Beneath the wide-brimmed hat, his facial features were still indistinct, and the messenger bowed through the glass.

Richard pushed the window open a crack.

"Your Excellency," the grey-robed messenger's voice seeped from the mist, "forgive my intrusion."

"Please come in."

The messenger shook his head and didn't go in; he simply pulled the letter from his chest and handed it through the crack in the window.

"As is customary, please open the package in my presence."

Richard accepted the letter.

To His Excellency Hermes:

It is hereby decided that the round table of the Divine Genealogy Salon will be reunited on the night of August 15th.

The specific time remains the same.

Before the gathering, we have prepared masks for everyone, which will be delivered together at the event.

Also: This table is introducing a new friend, who carries the name Hercules.

Please make sure you attend.

—Chief Hecate

Richard held the letter between his fingers.

Hercules, the most powerful demigod hero of ancient Greece.

Upon ascending to the divine position, the names of the gods are all related to wisdom, light, hunting, and war.

His divine name is simply "Mighty".

The prestige of this "Hercules" is evident.

Hecate also specifically mentioned "in the name of Heracles" in her letter.

Giving someone a name in advance is unprecedented.

The newcomer hadn't even taken his seat yet, but his title had already been announced; it was practically like the red carpet had been laid out in advance.

Richard folded the letter and put it in the envelope.

"I have confirmed that the letter has been received."

The messenger bowed again.

"I wish you a safe journey ahead."

It retreated half a step from the window crack, and the entire fog receded, dissipating completely under the eaves of the houses outside the slag alley.

Richard closed the window and sat back down at his desk, lost in thought.

Seven chairs, a full table for seven people.

Hecate gets one round herself, and the guests get six.

Now that all six seats are filled, adding another newcomer would only mean replacing someone else.

For whom?

There were six people at the table, and he mentally went through each one.

Demeter and Dionysus, the two minor proficient ones, were immediately ruled out.

Given Prometheus's background and abilities, it's unlikely he would be involved.

That leaves only Nemesis and Ares, with Ares, who had lost an arm, being more likely than Nemesis.

Richard still remembers the slightly disgusted look Hecate gave him when she saw his broken shoulder.

Now, the title of "newcomer" has already been bestowed upon them.

Ares has most likely already received the message.

Richard sighed and cut the candle wick shorter.

There is also the mask of Hermes.

The patron saint of messengers, merchants, orators, and scholars.

He is also the guide of souls, the god of words and tricks.

Richard mentally listed out the key words of this lineage one by one.

"Sending a message" is the most basic term.

"Contract" is a written agreement, which is the word spoken and then written down.

"Extradition" can send souls across the river, or it can drag things that shouldn't be on the river across.

Hermes's caduceus is inherently "two-way".

Richard was lost in thought.

He has no control over Ares's affairs for the time being, nor is he capable of doing so.

Let's take care of ourselves first.

………………

The imperial wartime warning notices were plastered on every wall in the slag heap alley.

When my father came home from get off work, he brought back a second telegram.

It was sent by my maternal grandfather, Gerald.

"The train back to the capital has been booked, at 9:25 AM on August 10th."

The special vehicle was attached to the military train; passengers boarded with their tickets and were met by someone.

Rogers handed over the telegram with a detached expression.

August 10th.

"……Um."

"Don't worry about things at home," Rogers told him. "Just focus on your studies."

Richard looked at his father.

Rogers turned and went to the kitchen, whispering something to his wife.

Margaret tightened the apron around her waist.

Evelyn.

"mom?"

"Bring two empty cans."

"what?"

"Pack your brother's things."

Evelyn brought two jars out of the house.

"This one contains almond cookies," Margaret said.

"What about the other one?"

"The other one contains dried plums."

"Dried plums?"

"Eat on the way."

Evelyn pouted.

"How much can he eat on the road?"

"If it can fit, then stuff it all in. Your brother's stomach can hold it all."

That night, the little girl was busy in the kitchen until 11 p.m.

The almond cookies were stuck in my teeth the first time I baked them, and they fell apart the second time.

The third time, she added an extra spoonful of honey to the recipe, lowered the oven setting, and steamed it for twenty minutes.

Only baked almond cookies are golden brown, thin, and crumbly when you bite into them.

She carefully stacked the almond cookies one by one into the glass jar at the Royal Hotel.

Stack them up to the top layer, then take out a newly made Professor Rabbit piece.

The new Professor Rabbit is a whole size bigger than the last one.

She was still wearing that little top hat, but this time, it had a small wing drawn with icing on it.

Evelyn carefully placed the new rabbit professor on top of the almond cookies.

Richard stood at the kitchen doorway, watching his sister busy at work.

"Why do you have wings?" he asked.

Evelyn didn't turn around.

"...Because Professor Rabbit is flying to the capital to see you."

………………

The day before his departure, Richard went to say goodbye to Mr. Hutton, meeting again in Greenwood's office.

The old man sat behind his desk, clearly not fully recovered yet.

"sit."

Richard sat down in the chair.

"Is everything packed?"

"It's all packed up."

"Where's the ticket?"

"It was ordered by my maternal grandfather; it was a special car attached to the back of a military train."

Mr. Hutton grunted in response.

"On wartime railways, this journey won't be comfortable."

"There are many people on the platform. Military trains have priority, and passenger trains are given priority one by one."

Mr. Hutton put down his teacup.

"When we get to the capital, we'll go to Ashford's house first. Your aunt won't be back at the university in the capital until around September."

"Don't rush to school yet, settle in at Ashford's first."

"……yes."

The old man looked at him for a while.

"Your aunt sent a telegram about that empirical text."

"She submitted the supplementary materials for you, and the official number has already been assigned."

"...Official serial number?"

"Um."

The old man took a thin piece of paper out of the drawer.

"There are thirteen new practitioners who joined the department this year, and you are ranked eleventh."

"Most of them are undergraduates and graduate students; there are very few preparatory students."

"Your empirical text is numbered cl-1914-0011."

Richard took the paper.

cl is an abbreviation for classical, the heading of the Department of Classical Studies.

1914 is the year, and 0011 is his sequence number in the department that year.

He folded the paper and put it in the inside pocket of his coat.

The old gentleman didn't give any further instructions, but just smiled and said...

"That night in Black Ditch, I thought I was going to be with Bigelow too."

"Then I realized I couldn't keep up. I haven't even been on the waiting list for Bigelow yet."

There's still a long line of people ahead of us.

Richard's throat moved.

Mr. Hutton looked at him for a while.

"Go."

"The people and things in the capital are different from those in this small place."

"See with your eyes, hear with your ears, move gently with your hands and feet, and keep your mouth shut."

"……yes."

Richard stood up from his chair.

He turned around as he reached the office door.

The old gentleman was still sitting behind his desk, his left hand resting on his knee and his right hand holding a teacup.

The clock in the office ticked once.

Richard bowed slightly: "Take care, sir."