I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Hercules shared a lot of information about new evil artifacts during the item trade, so he said he would skip this part of the information sharing.

Dionysus began to speak his own words.

"After closing time, several old taverns in the eastern part of the capital city would take stock of their accounts, and there would always be a few drinks that had been consumed but no one had ordered them."

"The extra cost of drinks didn't add up in the accounts, so the boss assumed the waiters were stealing drinks and fined two of them."

"The waiter told me that when they were clearing the tables after closing time, there was sometimes someone sitting at the corner table."

Dionysus rubbed his finger along the inside of the cup.

"The men in military uniforms were soaking wet, and even the chairs were covered in water stains."

When the waiter went over to collect the cups, the person was already gone.

The glass was still empty, but there was a half-finished lip print on the inside.

"Upon investigation, it was found that those were all taverns where a certain regiment drank its 'last drink' before setting off on a campaign."

That group in Ypres... almost entirely wiped out.

His fingers moved away from the cup.

Hercules' chair creaked.

"How did you handle it?"

"I asked a few familiar business owners to pour me a glass of wine in a corner every night before closing time."

Dionysus's voice regained some of its usual relaxed quality.

"Leave it for them, they can drink it and leave, they won't cause trouble."

Demeter spoke.

"Something came up in my agricultural network."

She never interrupts; she waits until others have finished speaking before she speaks.

"This year, all the crops planted in the direction of the strait and the front line are leaning in that direction."

"It felt like something was pulling me hard in that direction."

"There's trouble on the other side of the strait too. They've started adding potato starch to their bread, and the newspapers are calling it 'war bread.'"

"With so many other things mixed in, the bread almost doesn't recognize itself as bread anymore."

It was Richard's turn.

"I have a message from the spirit world."

He talked about Tipperelli.

Hecate spoke.

"Singing a song ten thousand times takes ten thousand breaths."

"That adds up to ten thousand 'inhalations,' until it's full..."

"We'll have to call it eventually."

No one at the table could respond to that statement.

Something is breathing through the songs of hundreds of thousands of people, for four months, from August to December.

What will that exhale be?

Prometheus suddenly spoke.

His two hands were clenched together.

"Prometheus, you've already 'foreseen' things so quickly?"

Hecate's golden mask turned toward him.

"I saw snow."

Prometheus's voice seemed to come from a very far place.

"The snow fell on the barbed wire, and the gunfire stopped."

"In the middle of the pile of dead bodies, living people crawled out from the ditches on both sides."

"Shake hands, sing songs, exchange buttons and cigarettes."

Hercules's voice was full of disbelief.

"What do you mean? The two warring parties shook hands in a no-man's-land?"

"I just came back from there. Both sides hate each other to the bone."

You stick half your head out of the trench and get shot, and you're telling me they're shaking hands and singing?

Prometheus did not answer Heracles.

He pressed his hand against his right rib.

"Then……"

"Then I didn't dare to look any further."

Everyone at the table was staring at him.

The fire of foresight flickered twice above his head before dimming again, and he finished speaking.

Hercules scoffed.

"Keep dreaming."

Dionysus also shook his head.

Hecate withdrew her gaze from Prometheus's face, and the outline of the torch returned to normal.

She did not comment on what she had predicted.

Meeting adjourned.

The date for the next gathering will be announced later.

Take care, everyone.

Richard closed his eyes, and the starry sea dissipated.

………………

Skadi's chair was still not warm enough.

Lillian sat on it, the flames leaping and illuminating the fake fires and empty cups throughout the hall.

New players have been added to the area where the substitutes were standing.

She didn't win the positional battle that just ended easily.

Since Bader, she has faced two positional changes.

The first person to cause her trouble was a man wearing a fox mask; he arrived quickly and left just as quickly.

The god he chose was one of Loki's offspring. He picked Lillian simply because he thought she was the weakest; the etheric fluctuations of practitioners don't lie.

But he only did half of his homework.

The "Swearing not to harm anything" that Badr concocted will inevitably leave some residue on those who sit on it.

It's not much, but it's enough.

The fox mask failed to penetrate after two attempts, and while the third attempt was still in the works, a blizzard had already begun.

Lillian had only received the blessing of Skadi's name a few days prior, and her control over the blizzard was extremely crude.

After the blizzard spread, no one could see what was happening inside the hall, whether they were sitting or standing.

Freya paused for half a second while licking the plate, then continued.

A muffled thud echoed through the blizzard, the snow curtain trembled, and then fell silent again.

As the snow fell, the owner of the fox mask froze in place, kneeling on both knees.

The head rose up and hung in the darkness above, and Lillian put the needle back.

Ms. Holloway taught her a lot of real knowledge after she got her seat.

Technique: Eclipse Veil - Corrodes all shields, whether physical or ethereal;

Technique: Delay – To slow down the opponent's thinking.

These two abyssal spells share a common weakness: they become ineffective once they are seen.

The Eclipse Curtain needs to be used at close range; if the opponent discovers it, they will immediately shake it off.

Although the sluggish traces of ether are extremely faint under spiritual vision, experienced practitioners can still avoid them with a glance.

Therefore, Lillian needed to conceal herself, and Skadi's divine power provided her with the best cover.

The sky was filled with ice shards and snow fog, shattering the vision, and the frigid winds further disrupted the normal functioning of spiritual vision.

Behind this curtain, nothing she does can be seen from the outside.

All the candidates do their homework on Blizzard when preparing to challenge her.

It was never ice and wind that killed them.

The opponent in the last match is a perfect example.

The woman who arrived was wielding a whip. She was a head taller than Lillian, and before Lillian could even make out her mask, she had already started attacking.

This woman had clearly done her homework.

A layer of cold-resistant ether membrane was wrapped around his hands, and the silver thread at the tip of the whip was also pre-treated.

The first lash landed, and the second lash followed closely, circling in from the other direction.

Lillian did not try to tough it out.

She took a half step back, and the blizzard swirled up from behind her as she retreated.

Once the snow curtain was erected, she was basically safe.

The woman with the whip charged into the snow with unwavering confidence.

She could see Lillian's silhouette retreating in the snow mist, neither too fast nor too slow, just enough to keep her within reach with a flick of her whip.

The third whip was lashed out.

The arc was very low, and it slashed across the ground, aiming at Lillian's ankle.

The whip tip brushed against something and made a "thud".

The sensation of the whip snapping back made her wrist ache suddenly.

She didn't have time to realize that the sound was wrong; her thoughts had already briefly paused.

Lillian stopped in her tracks in the snow and mist ahead, as the Eclipse Veil pressed against her.

Ether began to leak out from the thin spots that had been gnawed out.

Just as she was about to lose her footing, a blizzard came crashing down from all directions.

The woman was frozen inside a block of ice about half her height.

His head was raised to the sky, his expression still blank, and he never understood what he had lost to until his death.

As the snow fell, the hall returned to its previous dimness, illuminated by the blazing flames.

What everyone present saw was still that a blizzard in Skadi froze the challenger to death.

Exactly the same as last time.

When Lillian sat back down in her chair, she swallowed the portion of power that belonged to the whip woman from the surge of energy that had returned to her.

She has been using this technique since the first match, and her skills have become increasingly proficient over the past two matches.

She has become increasingly adept at perfecting the timing of the blizzard's spread, the control of its concentration, and the coordination between different techniques.

The only problem is that this trick will eventually be seen through.

The effectiveness of abyssal spells is greatly reduced once they are seen through, and needles are not a panacea either.

If the whip-wielding woman had been a fraction more off-center and struck the back of her neck, she might not have even had time to prepare for a blizzard.

Every victory is hard-won, and a loss means a new head hanging on the dome, with not even a bone fragment left.

Just as Lillian quietly settled down, applause erupted from the head of the table.

"Three wins in three battles!" The man's laughter echoed through the hall.

"Amazing, Skadi."

Lillian didn't reply.

"Do you know what my favorite part is when I watch people fight here?"

Loki placed one hand on the armrest.

No one in the hall responded, and Lillian said nothing.

Her back was pressed against the stone chair back, and her left hand had moved from her knee to the hidden pocket in her sleeve.

Loki laughed when he saw her do that.

"What I like most is... seeing the expression on the winner's face when they sit down in the chair."

"Some people sit down with a smug look on their face, thinking they're invincible, and they lean back with their legs spread apart."

He imitated that pose and swayed back and forth.

"These kinds of people usually don't last long; they're the first ones targeted when the next batch of candidates comes in."

"Some people came up in fear, their faces were even paler than those of the candidates who were standing."

Those who are afraid last longer than those who are complacent, because fear makes people more alert.

"But you can't be afraid all the time. If you're too afraid, your hands and feet will go weak, and you'll be a beat slower next time you make a move."

He placed his other hand on the armrest and leaned forward slightly.

"You are different."

Lillian finally raised her eyes.

"You didn't have any expression when you sat down."

Loki made a frame with his thumb and forefinger and gestured towards her.

"blank."

"The most interesting people are those who are blank."

He leaned back, his body all loose and limp.

"Because you can't figure out where she's going to go next."

"Neither you nor your opponent can figure it out."

"There are too many idiots on this table who just charge forward with brute force."

Fenrir bites right away, Tyr slashes right away; they're incredibly strong, but what good is strength?

Fenrir let out a low growl, which Loki pressed down on with the back of his hand.

"And you... you knew from the very first day you sat in this chair that your greatest advantage lay in the shadows."

Loki pointed to his mask.

"My name in mythology is 'Father of Lies'."

"A lie is like hanging a curtain, making you think the truth is in front of it."

"The moment you reach out to lift the curtain, the weapon that will kill you will emerge from behind it."

He put his hand down.

"I really like you, Skadi. You have more potential than several of the others here."

"I'm in a good mood today." He raised the hand that had drawn a circle in the air.

"From Badr to now, there are several more heads on top."

"Each one contributed to the strength of both me and Hela."

After Hela's mask, half-living and half-dead, was called out, the chill emanating from the gates of Hades seemed to intensify.

"So I think maybe our table should move out too."

Upon hearing this, Fenrir's breathing became heavier, even coming from inside his wolf-mouth mask.

Tyr's iron-gray mask turned to face Loki directly.

Freya's plate was pushed aside.

Loki glanced at them and a slight smile played on his lips.

There are other tables outside.

His voice carried a hint of excitement.

"I told you last time that we're not the only salon in the world."

"Some tables are decorated with the pantheon of Olympians, some with the names of gods from across the Black Earth River, and some lesser-known tables use miscellaneous names from islands in the South China Sea or deep in the grasslands."

He pulled his foot off the armrest and onto the ground, causing all the flames in the entire hall to jump simultaneously.

"I've already told you about the games between tables."

"One table ate up the food from the other table."

"He swallowed them whole, man and god, mask and all."

"Once it's all swallowed up, all the power accumulated at the table that was swallowed belongs to the winner."

He rubbed his palms together.

"I've got my eye on a table." Luo Ji stood up.

"The people at that table were using the Celtic mythology system—the one with Cú Chulainn, Morrigan, and Ruge."

"There are five people sitting at the table, except for the strongest one who has reached the threshold of mastery."

"The rest are all minor expertise."

He turned around and looked at the people at the table.

"At our table... I alone could eat the strongest one from their table."

Fenrir's chain rattled.

Tyr placed his only hand on the table.

Freya pulled the plate back in front of her, but didn't continue licking it.

Hela remained expressionless throughout.

"Of course, it would be too much of a loss for me to eat the whole table by myself."

Loki continued speaking in a casual, conversational tone.

"Team battles are what make it fun."