I loaded the Mysticism panel.

"Hermes' channels are very well-connected," Hecate said.

Richard didn't respond to that question; his gaze fell on Nemesis.

"Nemesis... should know the methods of this great scholar better than I do."

In one sentence, all eyes at the table were drawn to Nemesis's tilted scales.

Nemesis did not deny it.

"He is my mentor."

A very soft gasp was heard on the table.

Richard silently gave himself a thumbs up in his mind.

This is a blatant attempt to praise Professor McFee and Catherine, but it's also a way of praising himself.

As everyone present knew, Hermes also had a highly learned scholar standing behind him.

He and Nemesis were allies.

This realization made the people present even more respectful of the two young men's attitude.

Dionysus was the first to change his tune.

His last successful face-shadowing not only completely stabilized the twilight energy that could seal "Yawning," but he also had several other tricks up his sleeve that he was planning to showcase.

Now, he swallowed back the words that were on the tip of his tongue.

Compared to the two young men backed by highly accomplished scholars, his little gadgets were really not presentable.

Dionysus picked up the two-handled Cantalus cup and took a sip.

The slight unhappiness in his heart was like the sour taste that rises after drinking too much, but he was a smart man after all, and he didn't show it on his face at all.

Despite his jealousy, he still managed to put on a somewhat ingratiating expression and reached behind him to take out two bottles of wine.

"Nemesis, these are two newly brewed bottles of my treasured collection."

"Please pass this on to that professor for me; consider it a toast from me, Dionysus."

Richard looked at the two bottles and found it amusing.

He merely helped Catherine carry her sedan chair, yet Dionysus's precious wine was delivered to his doorstep first.

"I'll accept it on her behalf." Richard accepted it. "The professor would be so happy if he knew."

Hercules, on the other hand, looked as if his eyes had been opened wide.

"I only knew that the great scholars were of high status and indispensable in the entire mystical world."

"But this is the first time I've heard of it." He shook his head. "Scholars also possess such direct combat capabilities."

"Logically speaking," Hercules said, his voice tinged with dissatisfaction.

"Sneak peeks should be what we hunters excel at, shouldn't scholars... hide in the back writing papers and flipping through books?"

Upon hearing this, Demeter, unusually, took the initiative to speak.

"Scholars are indeed weak in direct combat; their skills lie entirely in their minds, not their fists."

"If you rush at him, his head will be gone in the time it takes him to chant his incantation."

"But there are a few exceptions to the tradition."

"Which ones?" Hercules pressed.

"The tradition of hunting the moon." Demeter held up one finger. "And the tradition of the abyss."

"Plus a few special little traditions."

"These scholars from traditional backgrounds are more ruthless than hunters when they get down to business."

"The Moon Hunter Scholar doesn't fight you with strength; he just calls out your name."

Once it's read aloud, wherever you go, the moonlight will shine.

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

"Not to mention Abyss Scholars, they are people who descend downwards, you'd better pray you never encounter one in your life."

Hercules's brow twitched as he listened.

Richard sat in his seat, listening to their back-and-forth conversation, secretly amused.

The group of people at the table were having a lively conversation when the scholar, a great expert, overturned a table and they were all so amazed.

If they knew... that they were plotting something with two highly knowledgeable professors about two famous experts.

I wonder what kind of expressions they'll have.

Richard suppressed his smile.

Some things are best left unsaid; putting them on the table can lead to tragedy.

Nemesis's scales were blank, yet he was still somewhat pleased.

She knew that Richard was deliberately trying to create momentum for her.

Now that we've vented our emotions, it's time to get down to business.

New words appeared on the scales of Nemesis.

"I have completed all the texts that you all entrusted me to decipher last time."

She reached out and took out a stack of things, categorizing them and pushing them to the center of the table.

"Return the item to its rightful owner."

Prometheus retrieved his share first.

"Thank you for your hard work," he said, a rare polite remark from him.

When Demeter retrieved her share, she asked one more question.

"Nemesis's deciphering skills are more efficient than those of several renowned scholars in the capital."

Everyone could tell that for a professional to have such a level of decoding ability, it would be truly extraordinary if they didn't have a highly skilled expert guiding them step by step.

When it was time to pay, the group took out the agreed-upon items, mostly traditional resources from the Moon Hunting tradition.

Richard then realized something.

Catherine is also preparing to pursue the path of a traditional scholar of the Moon Hunting tradition.

That's understandable, given that Professor McFee is behind her; following this path is the easiest way out.

This is why no one doubted her identity as a professor.

Deciphering, lunar resources, Gaelic script... everything matches up.

Besides the resources from the Moon Hunt, there were also some gold pounds, a few bottles of etheric condensate, and other general equivalents in the mystical world.

Nemesis accepted each item one by one, and two words appeared on the scale pan.

"satisfy."

It was Richard's turn.

He also returned, one by one, the items that Hercules and Demeter had entrusted to him for appraisal.

"Hercules." Richard pushed the purified cursed artifacts towards him. "I've written everything down in the report."

"There's something that looks like a badge or token sealed inside the lead container. I suggest you find a safer place to dispose of it."

Hercules took the item and nodded.

"I trust you, so just name your commission amount."

"A condensate of ether will do," Richard said.

Hercules took a small bag of condensate from behind him and pushed it towards him.

Richard glanced at it with his spiritual vision; the quality was good, a medium concentration with a slightly astringent taste, like the kind found on the battlefield.

Meanwhile, Richard returned the ears of wheat that Demeter had commissioned to be appraised.

She took out a small packet of the condensate and pushed it to Richard.

With the deal finalized, it was time to move on to the intelligence phase.

"Same as always, let's start with me."

Dionysus held the two-handled Cantalus cup.

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

"I hired a female singer who hadn't been affected by that stuff yet to sing 'Tiperelli,' and recorded it line by line into a new candle tube."

The room was spotless during the recording, and she sang exactly as she had.

"It was different when it was released," Dionysus said, his voice lowering.

"The female voice in the candlestick wasn't singing 'Tipperelli,' she was announcing names."

"They reported the names one by one, and all of them were living people, without a single stumble."

The table fell silent.

“I wrote down the names; there are nineteen in total,” said Dionysus. “I have someone look up these nineteen people.”

"I stopped when I found the sixth one."

"The first six were all people who died in the capital city in the last half month."

The causes of death were varied: gas poisoning, heart problems, accidental drowning... none of them connected to the others.

A chill slowly crept up Richard's neck.

Prometheus's ball of crimson flame stirred.

"Since Dionysus has set this precedent, I have a similar matter to discuss."

"Last month, someone brought a living person out of that colony in the interior of the New World where 'everyone looks the same'."

"Why did you bring it out?" Demeter asked.

"Research," Prometheus said.

"Someone on my master's line of work got hold of a copy of the research records."

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

"That thing in the New World interior steals people's names."

Richard's hands, gripping his knees, slowly tightened.

At this moment, the scales of Nemesis tipped.

Words condensed on the left pan of the scale.

"Since we're on the topic of the north, I have something to say about the heavens."

The gaze on the table shifted.

"Since the beginning of winter this year, a troop can be heard passing through the northern Gaelic Heights at night."

"There were horns in front and hooves behind, thousands upon thousands of hooves pounding in the air, yet they pounded very steadily."

"Local elders call it 'the hunter in the sky'."

"In the villages it passes through, there are always a few fewer people the next day."

"More importantly, this hunting party has recently started heading south."

"It moved along the direction of the war, heading towards the industrial zone and towards the capital."

At this point, Demeter also revealed her intelligence.

"This spring, sacrificial customs that were so old that no one remembered them came back to life one by one in the countryside."

"The new things underground themselves brought forth the rules."

They followed the same old tricks from thousands of years ago, gradually coaxing the villagers to offer sacrifices.

Upon hearing this, Hercules let out a heavy sigh of relief from beneath his lion-mouth mask.

"I encountered a talking evil entity."

"Not just repeating a grade?" Dionysus asked.

"I don't know," Hercules said.

It shouted something at me, saying, "You came from over there too."

"I didn't understand it at the time, but I thought about it for a long time after I came back."

"It probably treats living people and itself... as the same thing."

After a round of intelligence reports, the atmosphere on the table sank to the bottom; no one in the capital was optimistic about the day of mourning.

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

"It's obvious that the more crowded a place is, the more dangerous it is on a day of mourning."

He drank the contents of the cup in one gulp.

"I don't want to stay in that whirlpool of the capital. I'll run away and find a quiet village with few people to sleep in for one night."

"I'll come back after the days of mourning."

He said it so frankly; there wasn't a fool at this table, and it's instinctive for people to seek advantage and avoid harm.

Demeter nodded: "My fields are in the countryside, where there's plenty of land and few people. There won't be any major trouble. I can just stay and tend to my fields."

Hercules' territory was in the northern wilderness, far from the capital.

Prometheus was not active in the capital, so the fire burned steadily.

Apart from Richard and Catherine, everyone at the table was planning to stay far away that day.

Hecate stopped talking.

"Alright, the day of mourning is approaching, take care of yourselves."

May you all get through that night safely.

"We'll set a date for the next gathering after the mourning period has passed."

………………

The next day, Imperial Capital University.

When Richard arrived, both professors were already there.

"Did you bring the things?" Mortimer asked.

Richard nodded and pressed the triple-sealed lead box in his arms through his clothes.

"Come down with me."

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

In the end, the marks that had been carved out by humans underfoot disappeared.

An extremely narrow doorway is embedded in the raw rock.

There was only a circle of ancient inscriptions on the door, which were traced out stroke by stroke with silver thread.

"You know that Imperial University is built on the Etheric Active Zone," Mortimer said as he walked.

"The entire campus is a giant sealing array, stretching from the material world all the way to the shallows behind the curtain."

He stopped in front of the narrow doorway.

"The great masters who set up the formation hundreds of years ago deliberately left an opening here that leads to the depths of the curtain."

"It is a particularly weak point."

"Other weak points are naturally formed openings that anyone can enter, but once inside, they may not be able to get out."

This place was carved out by hand, and the seals around it have been welded for hundreds of years; there are specific rules for entering and exiting.

"The thing you're going to do," Mortimer looked at him, "can only be done behind the scenes."

"There's only one place around here where you can safely get down to that line and be rescued."

Richard looked at the narrow door and understood.

McFaye put the purse he was holding on the ground, squatted down, and started taking things out one by one.

The engraving knife, the grayish-white sealing wax, the holy water, and several rolls of rubbings wrapped in oiled paper.

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

"I'll keep watch over you," McFee said, patting his chest.

"The Hunter is the master of the Wild Hunt, and it follows the rules of the Hunting Month."

If it really turns hostile, I can shield you.

Mortimer nodded.

"The substitution law is ultimately a matter that spans two sides of the veil. Whether this matter can stand or not depends on someone watching it word by word."

If it dares to tamper with the accounts, I'll expose it on the spot.

"But the two of us combined," Mortimer changed the subject, "are just two Grandmasters."

"Even two great masters cannot subdue the hunter master."

"If it turns hostile and stomps down on the shallows, we can only help you block it for a short while."

"So," Mortimer said, putting down his pen.

"We still need to recruit two more experts, the two I told you about last time."