I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The moment she put on the mask, the scales suddenly tilted to one side.

She managed to bring it back to the starting point, keeping it stuck in that deliberate imbalance.

Richard recalled that the other person had asked Hecate: "Are you walking toward that name, or being swallowed by it?"

Now, she holds the answer in her own hands and wears it on her face.

Hecate's hand turned toward the crimson mask.

"Prometheus".

"The prophet, the fire thief, the Titan who stole fire for mankind."

"Prometheus is a prophet who can enhance your foresight and judgment."

And fire fuels the alchemy; you are the 'Giver,' able to enhance creation.

"The price is that my liver regenerates day and night."

"Put on this mask and you'll glimpse fragments of the future, especially... those unchangeable bad endings."

"You will see it, but you won't be able to stop; foreseeing is torture."

"Moreover, stealing fire means being chased and punished. The more you produce and the more you know, the more backlash you will attract from higher places."

Prometheus did not put on the mask, but held it in front of him and looked at it repeatedly, weighing it over and over again.

Richard silently compared the two masks.

Prometheus gained more and more diverse benefits than Nemesis, but the costs were also correspondingly higher.

The man holding the Prometheus mask, who is likely backed by a traditional alchemist, understands that "borrowed fire can burn your hands."

"Chief," Prometheus spoke.

"I'll accept this mask for now."

He reached out and tucked the mask into his pocket.

"But I'm a slow worker."

"Let me hold it in my hand for now, and wear it later."

Hecate didn't seem to mind.

"Of course you can. The mask is yours now, and it's your business when you put it on."

Richard was somewhat grateful that Prometheus had set an example first.

If I decline to wear it for the time being, I won't seem so eccentric.

Hecate's hand turned towards the deep purple one.

"Dionysus".

The purple ivy mask floated up to Dionysus.

Dionysus placed the two-handled Cantalus cup he was holding on the table.

He reached out and took the mask.

"The god of wine, revelry, and drama," Hecate explained.

"Dionysus uses intoxication and illusion to bewitch his enemies, causing the masses to lose control. Believers lose their minds in revelry and can dissolve boundaries."

"cost."

"Freedom and loss of control are always two sides of the same coin."

"If you use a mask to gain leverage, you'll find it easier and easier to lose yourself in revelry and intoxication."

Dionysus turned the deep purple mask over in his hand.

"That's interesting."

The man slowly put the mask on his face.

Beneath the ivy mask, the voice trailed off.

"Out of control... I'm not afraid of that."

Hecate's hand finally turned to the bronze mask.

Hermes.

The mask, adorned with two golden winged serpents, floated down to Richard.

Richard reached out and caught it.

"The messenger, the god of commerce, the patron saint of orators and scholars, the guide of souls, the god of words and trickery."

"Hermes' power enhances the persuasiveness of words; words spoken and written down become coherent agreements."

"Sending messages will enhance your decoding, and there's also 'extradition,' crossing borders."

Richard held the mask in his hands.

This power was exactly what he wanted.

"The price is that Hermes will ferry souls across the river, and wearing the mask will allow you to 'attract' the dead."

It makes the curtain around you more "transparent".

Richard's heart sank as well, for he himself was merely ferrying shadows between the two worlds.

This price was like adding fuel to the fire for him.

"And then there's the god of trickery," Hecate continued.

"You will have the urge to deceive or cross the line."

"And there are border crossers and travelers, restless and unwilling to stay put."

Richard thought about his current state of "Perception and Contemplation".

The "restlessness" brought about by the name Hermes might stir up his calm waters.

The amulet, which is supposed to be so pure that "still water cannot reflect a person's image," is rendered useless by the internal turmoil caused by the restlessness.

Add to that the price of attracting the dead and becoming transparent behind the veil... this mask still needs careful study.

Richard held the bronze mask, his face expressionless.

But his mind was racing, and an idea popped into his head.

This mask... is the tube that brings in the concept of the divine name and onto the wearer.

This is a structured etheric construct, which is a spell.

He possesses the [Shadow Reversal].

The mask functions normally by introducing the concept of the divine name into his body, at the cost of that concept devouring him in return.

What if... it could be reversed?

There is too little information available at the moment, so these findings cannot be verified, but they are undoubtedly directions worth exploring.

He tucked the mask into his robes, using a similar euphemism as Prometheus.

"All four masks have been delivered." Hecate withdrew her hand.

"Remember, when using masks for mutual support, we must keep an eye on each other. We share the same fate, and we all suffer together."

After the masks were delivered, Hecate's golden mask tilted slightly towards the center of the table.

"Now that the masks are in your hands, let's proceed as usual."

"Trade first, then share intelligence."

In the center of the desktop, the items that were just used in the demonstration are still lying there.

The bone needle of the eyelid monster and the cervical vertebrae connected to the glowing intestines of the floating skull remained unmoved.

Hercules leaned forward and poured some more things onto the table.

A roll of folded leather, the very flag held by the "flag bearer" in the projection, was torn in half and brought back by him.

Beneath the flag was a bone horn, charred black all over, with several hardened dark red veins wrapped around its mouth.

Next to the horn, there was a black core the size of a fist.

The thing was placed on the table, and the stench of pollution was so strong that it almost burned marks onto the surface.

Dionysus, who was closest to it, subconsciously moved the amphora in his hand to the side.

Richard subtly concealed his inspiration, sweeping over each item one by one along the flowing ether.

Flag material is the core carrier of the flag bearer's amplification technique.

The bone horn must be an instrument used to gather evil spirits and amplify their power.

As for that black core...

That must be the "heart" of a superior evil being, a mass of polluted ether that had been fermenting for countless years, layer upon layer, compacted and solidified.

These are not things that ordinary craftsmen and scholars can touch.

"Here." Hercules spread his large hands on the edge of the table.

"These are the only three things that can be presented to the flag bearer."

He thought for a moment, then poured out a small pile of odds and ends.

He casually gathered them up on the corner of the table, separating them from the other items in front of him.

A rusted, blackened copper bell, a broken knife, a clay figurine covered in cracks...

It was a jumbled mess, each item covered in an indelible layer of filth.

Hercules offered an explanation.

"These are some odds and ends I picked up from the Ash Belt."

"It's been soaking in filth for who knows how many years, and this is the awful state it looks when it's pulled out."

He raised his hand and pushed the broken knife into that small pile.

"The official appraiser from the branch office determined that it had 'no collectible value' and returned the right to dispose of it to me."

"I came tonight to exchange these things for some etheric condensate, and a few things to stabilize the etheric circuits."

He set up his stall.

Flag materials, horns, and black nuts were placed together, while a small pile of miscellaneous items was placed at the corner of the table, clearly separated.

The ball of fire above Prometheus's head flickered.

"I want to trade the core of that superior evil creature."

The eyes of everyone at the table turned to that direction.

Prometheus never fights for things, but tonight he was the first to make a move, and he wanted the heaviest item on the table.

"The craftsmen I know are exactly lacking this kind of material."

Prometheus spoke of it lightly.

He took out a small bottle and placed it in the center of the table.

The bottle was smaller than the bottles of stabilizers he had taken out earlier.

The liquid in the bottle was so pure that even the naked eye could sense its incredible purity.

Hercules's massive, fleshy body twitched.

What I lack most right now is something that can suppress the soaring price of ether.

He knew in his heart that the more ferocious the blood rage was, the harder it would be to retreat.

"I'll change it!" he said without hesitation.

He made a profit this time; he traded a hot potato that he couldn't handle at all for a bottle of the most life-saving stuff right now.

At the head of the table, Hecate's doubled eyes were fixed on the small bottle.

A craftsman who can use the "heart" of a superior evil creature as a forging material, and who can also produce such a bottle of stuff...

At the very least, he is a great master.

Hecate silently counted down the several highly skilled craftsmen within the empire, one by one.

The one in the Southern Territory is quite old and has been away from the furnace for many years.

The one in the north is eccentric and never uses such channels with others;

The one in the capital city doesn't match either; he doesn't pursue cleanliness, he pursues potency.

Now it seems... this "fire thief" was either hiding something all along;

Either it's the person behind him who recently quietly crossed that threshold.

He was promoted to a master craftsman, but he remained a craftsman.

This news couldn't be kept secret within the industry, and there was no need to try.

The one behind Prometheus... should not be within the Empire.

Hecate withdrew her gaze; the great master craftsman's theory was not much less weighty than that of the great master scholar.

The longer she ran this table, the more she felt that she had made the right decision in giving away those tokens of faith.

The people at the table each had their own thoughts, but the transaction continued.

Demeter raised her calloused hands from her knees.

The pile of seeds, spores, and roots spread out on the table is still there.

"I'm willing to exchange intelligence, media, or money," she said slowly.

Dionysus put down the amphora in his hand and took out a scroll.

"I'll trade this for your pinch of tranquilizing poppies."

"This is part of the collection of a closed library in the capital. I just copied it a few days ago. You might find it useful."

Demeter glanced at the catalog and overview, then gave him the pinch of tranquilizing poppies.