I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The air around the table, along with the silhouette of the torch above Hecate's head, grew cold.

The crimson flame above Prometheus's head jumped, and then jumped again.

Richard observed silently.

He had seen Hecate before when she was restrained, always looking relaxed and casual.

I harvested some prisms tonight.

"I made the masks and gave them to you."

Hecate used the old woman's voice.

"It's been tampered with, of course I know."

The breathing of the people at the table became restrained.

"When that person removed the mask," Hecate continued.

"Did something happen?"

"...When Master dismantled the seventh floor."

Prometheus's voice leaked from beneath the gold mask.

"A 'premonition' sealed within the mask has been released."

"What prediction?"

He saw a sea of ​​fire.

"The fire behind the curtain."

"The entire etheric field of the workshop has been disrupted."

"It took Master three days to calm down, and several unfinished products that were being forged were all ruined."

Hecate's golden mask faced him, her overlapping eyes remaining motionless.

Richard was quickly calculating in his mind.

Richard himself could even provide fragments of this knowledge through divination.

But the kind of foresight that can scramble even the most skilled craftsmen... is probably a bomb that was deliberately planted.

Whoever gets to the seventh floor gets to take a bite first.

Hecate must have put this extra layer of protection on every mask.

"Prometheus," Hecate's girlish voice was cool and clear.

"I made the mask, and I adjusted each layer according to the person wearing it."

"Letting someone else demolish it is like having someone operate on your heart."

Even if someone has a steady hand... they might still touch something they shouldn't.

Hecate did not continue.

She simply looked at Prometheus, waiting for him to speak.

"...Chief, I was inconsiderate."

"I will ask my master to provide you with an item of equal value."

Hecate shook her head.

"Not equivalent."

Her voice regained its gentle warmth.

"I just want him to do one thing for me."

"What is it?"

Hecate took a small box from her sleeve and placed it on the table.

"Please hand the box over to that person for me."

Hecate pushed the box further into the center of the table.

"Have him follow the instructions in the box; it's free."

Prometheus glanced at the box.

"……good."

He reached out and tucked the box into his pocket.

Hecate didn't look at him again, and that was the end of it.

Raise it high, then lower it gently.

Hecate didn't say what was in that box, nor did Prometheus ask.

Anyone with a modicum of sense present could tell that this calculation was extremely shrewd.

She used a bomb to insure her mask, waiting for someone to take the bait.

Once someone takes the bait, she pulls up the fishing line to form a new transaction.

Ask Hecate's master, the master craftsman, to make something for her free of charge.

Demeter recalled that she and Hecate had discussed the mask issue privately after the last gathering.

It now seems that the mother hen's calculations were indeed more sophisticated than the chicks had imagined.

The transaction proceeded as scheduled, with Demeter speaking first.

"The box of Frost Beans from the Divine Throne that Hermes gave me last time has already been planted."

"Has anything grown yet?" Richard asked.

"Not yet." Demeter shook her head.

"This stuff is very delicate; seeds grown above the snow line wilt at lower altitudes."

I have to set aside a separate, icy area in the field to care for it; it's even more troublesome than the most troublesome tree in my several acres of land.

"How long will it take?"

"Be optimistic about the end of the year, or pessimistic about the middle of next year."

Richard nodded. He was just taking a chance; if he could grow it, he would make a profit; if he couldn't, he wouldn't lose anything.

"No rush," he said, stopping himself from speaking.

Dionysus picked up the two-handled Cantalus cup.

"I have some fresh stuff here."

He reached behind him and took out a small earthenware jar. When he opened the jar, a very faint sweet fragrance wafted out.

"What is this?" Prometheus asked first.

I call it "decrepitness".

Dionysus turned the jar toward the center of the table, letting the sweet aroma waft toward everyone.

"One of the buffs the mask gives me is the ability to 'dissolve boundaries'," Dionysus explained slowly.

"I tried it for a few months and found that it can dissolve not only the boundary between people, but also the boundary between 'wakeful' and 'sleep'."

He brought the mouth of the jar closer to his nose.

"This jar contains a wisp of ether that I collected from a whole night of banquets... the most relaxing sip of ether when a person is half-drunk and half-asleep."

Prometheus extended the flames above his head forward. "...Half-drunk, half-asleep?"

Dionysus turned the jar back around.

"If you pour it onto a wondrous object, the seal on that object will loosen."

"What does 'pine' mean?" Richard was also very interested in this.

"It means not destroying the seal itself."

Dionysus explained:

"Let the seal 'yawn,' and in that blink of an eye, the scholar can peek inside."

"Although you can only catch a glimpse, it's absolutely safe."

You didn't touch it, but took a look when it was relaxed.

Richard nodded; this thing was of great value to him.

In the past, whenever he examined items of dubious origin, he had to rely on Professor Mortimer's method of brute force dismantling them.

You have to peel away the layers one by one from the outside in, and only after peeling away one layer can you see the bottom of the next layer.

If he had this can of twilight energy, he could first apply a smear to the outermost shell of the seal.

Take a quick look inside the moment the seal loosens to see what's inside before deciding whether to break it or how.

It's like having a CT scan done before going into surgery.

"It's still in the experimental stage." Dionysus resealed the jar.

"The effect is not very consistent. Sometimes it loosens the seal, and sometimes I get drunk first."

"Therefore, we will not sell for the time being."

The people at the table laughed.

Nemesis probably made his move around this time.

Her lips were tightly closed, and a line of words appeared on the left pan of the balance scale above her head, facing the table, visible to everyone present.

"I'm communicating with everyone in this way because of some special circumstances."

Dionysus spoke first.

"Nemesis, that's an interesting move. You sealed the radiation inside the mask?"

Nemesis projected the second line of text.

"Yes, a sealing spell was used."

"What ban?" Dionysus became interested and put down the two-handled cups.

"Have you suppressed that urge to 'even things out'?"

The third line emerges from Nemesis's scales.

"It's a deflection."

"The impulse is still there, but it has been guided in a direction I chose myself."

The fourth line followed immediately.

"The force that insists on evening things out hasn't weakened; it used to run wild in all directions, settling scores with whoever it encountered."

"Now it's been brought together and is heading only in the direction I want."

Richard analyzed silently.

During debate week, Catherine almost lost control, trying to even out anyone who showed favoritism.

Now this force has been tied into a rope, which can be used to pull specifically towards the inscriptions and rubbings.

She essentially sharpened a knife that was used to kill people everywhere into a knife that can only cut fish.

What concerned Richard even more was something else.

To be able to create this sealing and deflection spell... she must have a highly skilled expert helping her behind the scenes.

Based on this line of reasoning, it is highly likely to be Professor McFee.

During the days following the debate week when Catherine disappeared, the professor may have performed the ritual for her, or at least provided guidance on its framework.

Richard was secretly pleased for him.

Catherine finally had a real backer, someone whose situation was somewhat similar to her own.

Another line of text appeared on Nemesis's scales.

"This sealing technique is available for sale."

"Its effectiveness extends beyond the cost of the mask; it can deflect radiation of any direction."

"But a ban is just a ban; once it accumulates to a certain threshold, it still needs to be released."

"Price: £300 in cash or equivalent, plus one high-grade artifact."

The table fell silent. Three hundred pounds was no small sum, let alone a rare and precious item.

Prometheus didn't move, waiting for someone else to speak first.

Dionysus shook his head.

Demeter remained silent.

Most of what her entire field produced were materials and seeds. Three hundred pounds in cash wasn't difficult for her, but she didn't have a single high-grade artifact.

Richard, needless to say, couldn't even scrape together that amount with his meager savings and scholarship money.

Hecate, however, showed interest.

This was the first time Richard had seen Hecate take the initiative in the transaction process since he joined the meeting.

"Nemesis." Three voices merged beneath the golden mask.

"I want this spell."

Nemesis's scales wobbled.

"The chief makes the offer."

Hecate took a small cloth bag from her sleeve and placed it on the table.

Inside the bag was a bead about the size of a thumb, completely black, so black that it didn't reflect any light.

"This is my own private collection," Hecate said without further explanation.

"Is that enough?"

Nemesis stared at the bead for a long time.

That's enough.

The deal was struck, and the two began to communicate silently, with all their words encrypted.

Richard was also thinking about it.

Why did Hecate buy this sealing spell?

Her own mask... also needs to be deflected at a price?

Nemesis also took this opportunity to post a message.

"I can still take on the following jobs."

A series of items were listed afterward.

Richard glanced at it and saw that it was all specialized work by scholars, such as inscription dating, seal structure verification, and rubbing comparison... Each one was based on Professor McFee's areas of expertise.

He became even more certain of his earlier suspicions.

"In addition to Hermes's appraisal shop, Nemesis's textual criticism stall has also been added."

Dionysus's voice drifted out from under the mask, trailing off with a sour tone.

He picked up his glass, took a sip, and muttered something under his breath.

"I'm starting to doubt whether I've taken the wrong path."

Scholars are doing these cost-free transactions at their desks, yet they sell them for much more than the actual goods.

A short breath came from beneath Demeter's terracotta mask; she probably laughed.