Alchemy Principles of Type-Moon World

"Huh?" Laness was slightly stunned. The next second, her expression quickly changed to a kind of unwilling surprise. Thinking back on every detail along the way, she finally realized why the entire journey made her feel strange.

——It seemed as if I had been treated like a child.

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As we climbed, the path grew steeper, a chill in the air, as if even breathing could feel the damp, cold mountain air. The soil beneath our feet hardened, and jagged rocks jutted from the ground like the backbone of a thousand-year-old beast. The trees thinned, their leaves thinning. The mountain wind whistled through the exposed branches, making a low, whimpering sound. Mist crept silently up the mountainside, obscuring the distant view until the world was reduced to a winding path.

After two hours of arduous trekking, the ups and downs of the road ahead seemed to finally come to an end. The road was no longer a continuous steep slope, but now flattened out, with a faint hint of openness, which also meant that they were finally reaching their destination.

——Located atop a rugged mountain, Blackmore's cemetery is one of the oldest cemeteries in this land, whispered about by magicians.

The very existence of ancient cemeteries built atop precipitous mountains is a revelation. Many ancient faiths considered mountains sacred, and the construction of temples, ancestral halls, and even cemeteries there served as both a symbol of faith and a testament to believers' commitment to challenging human limits. In those days, traversing the steep mountain paths to reach these sacred sites was a feat of devotion and courage. Trekkers were not merely scaling mountains; they were overcoming barriers within their hearts, attempting to reach a realm beyond the mundane.

However, with the passage of time, such beliefs were gradually replaced by more realistic considerations. As power and resources concentrated in cities, religious bases tended to be built within urban areas.

——Because living in a remote mountain area meant being isolated from the increasingly centralized political structure and unable to participate in the expanding ruling network at that time.

Therefore, as time goes by, this feature has become a yardstick for judging historical time. The more remote a place is, such as a high mountain, the more likely it is that it was built in an ancient time.

As they approached their destination, the air became thicker with a sense of silence. The surrounding trees were tall and silent, with gray-green mosses climbing up along their gnarled trunks. The sound of footsteps was particularly clear in the silence.

—Suddenly, there was a slight movement among the trees, as if some creature jumped out of the pile of dead leaves.

Lanis paused, her brow furrowed slightly, her gaze darting in the direction of the sound. Weber subconsciously tensed, his hands gripping the shoulder straps of his backpack. Xing Qingqi, on the other hand, raised his head slowly, his eyes relaxed, as if awaiting something inevitable.

"Pah, pah—" A sudden, intense fluttering of wings echoed through the trees, shattering the mountain's stillness. The next moment, nearly ten blackbirds simultaneously soared from the branches. The thumping of their wings echoed overhead, accompanied by a few sharp cries. Their dark shadows streaked across the misty canopy like meteors.

"It's crows." Xing Qingyu raised the corner of his mouth slightly, watching with interest the paths of the birds flapping their wings and flying away, with a bit of pure appreciation in his eyes.

However, Lanis and Weber's reactions were completely different. Their eyes did not follow the crow, but were fixed on where the crow took off.

"Crows carry souls." The voice was deep and steady, like thunder rolling from the depths of the earth. Then, a figure slowly emerged from the shadows between the trees.

He was a man in his sixties, tightly clad in black. The sound of his heavy leather boots treading on fallen leaves was muffled and powerful. He was tall and sturdy, and although time had left deep wrinkles on his face, his sturdy physique was still visible through his unbuttoned coat. He wore an old-fashioned traveler's hat, which concealed his unkempt gray hair, giving him an air of antiquity that was out of place in this era.

"In Britain, these birds are often seen as guides to the dead." His gaze slowly swept over the three people, finally stopping at Xing Qingqi. "In Celtic legend, ravens are grave-guarding birds, carrying away the souls of the dead and guiding them back to nothingness. Their cries mark the boundary between the living and the dead."

Weber was stunned for a moment, a hint of surprise flashing across his eyes. He quickly took over the conversation: "You mentioned the 'Gravekeeper'... Then, are you..."

The man didn't answer directly, but asked, "The magician from the clock tower wants to see me. What's going on?"

"He actually saw through us at once, thinking we were from the Clock Tower..." Laness thought to herself, her gaze lingering on the man for a few seconds longer. "But he doesn't look like an acquaintance—has he been in the Clock Tower before, or has he noticed our actions long ago?"

Waver took a deep breath, collected his thoughts, and then bowed slightly, saying respectfully, "I am Waver Velvet, and this is—"

"——Xing Qingyu, just an ordinary alchemist." Until the topic shifted to himself, Xing Qingyu withdrew his gaze from the crow and turned to the man, looking him in the eye.

"This is Lanise. She and I are companions assisting Weber." Xing Qingyu pointed at Lanise and said.

"We don't have many visitors here, let alone a magician from the clock tower." The man nodded. "But since you came to see me, it must be no accident."

"I am the gravekeeper, Belsac Blackmore." He paused briefly, then gently swung his arm back, motioning for everyone to follow. "If you have anything to say, follow me."

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Hedgehog Cat has been very popular these days. If you have any chapters that have been swallowed, you can try refreshing them.

Although the plot here follows the original novel, the original novel's involvement in this place was completed in two parts. I will follow the main line in the first half, and leave the second half to the protagonist to complete in one go.

The above is a new book by a new author. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

Volume 10: Xing Qingjiu's Perfect Arithmetic Classroom: . Black-Faced Maria

Belsac led the three along a winding path. The gravel beneath their feet was loose and uneven, and with every step, they could hear the tumbling of small stones. The air was filled with the scent of moist mountain soil, and the faint aroma of hay and cooking smoke could be smelled. At the end of the path, a small village nestled against a steep rocky mountain gradually emerged.

The village wasn't large, housing no more than a hundred people. The brick buildings were old and creaky, their walls scuffed with the marks of wind and rain. Some of the bricks had even begun to peel, revealing a grayish-white interior. Most of the houses were two-story structures, their roofs covered in dark brown tiles. In some places, these tiles were missing, allowing sunlight to filter through the cracks into the dim interiors. The layout of the village was haphazard, with narrow, winding lanes between the houses, like a haphazardly assembled maze. The villagers' clothing, while modern, was simple and unadorned. Some clothing had clearly been worn for years, with patches visible.

Lanis glanced around, her eyes grazing over a few villagers bustling along the roadside. They seemed at ease, as if inhabiting a time and space cut off from the outside world. An elderly farmer slowly walked by, carrying a basket laden with vegetables. His face was lined with deep wrinkles, like the rings of time. Another woman squatted by a stone well, washing clothes, the water gleaming silver in the sunlight. Such a scene would look perfectly at home in medieval or modern attire.

"It's really a place that could disappear from the map at any time." Xing Qingfu sighed in a low voice.

In short, it was a completely ordinary scenery in the Welsh countryside.

"Ah, Mr. Belsac." As the three followed Belsac slowly along the path, a deep voice rang out. The voice was heavy, like a breath, yet the tone was familiar and refreshing. Following the voice, a middle-aged man in priestly attire appeared at a nearby intersection.

His overweight figure was impossible to ignore. The loose priest's robes bulged out from him, seemingly ready to burst at any moment. His round body squeezed between the fabric, like a giant, almost overflowing ball of flesh. His double chin was more than two layers deep, and the fat on his cheeks trembled slightly, as if even speaking was a burden. Even more astonishing was his ability to carry such a large weight to this mountain village, a true testament to his incredible perseverance.

"Who are those three over there...?" Before he finished speaking, his gaze had already turned to the three people following behind Belsac, his eyes revealing unconcealed curiosity and vigilance.

Behind the priest stood a young nun. She was about twenty years old, dressed in a neat nun's robe. Her smooth blond hair shone slightly in the sunlight, and with the faint freckles scattered on both sides of her nose, she added a touch of spirit and beauty that was out of place in this lonely village.

Under normal circumstances, Lanis might have felt somewhat curious about the existence of this young nun, but at this moment, her attention was already firmly occupied by another fact—

——Since there are priests and nuns in this village, it means there must be a church here.

Lanis subconsciously frowned, raised her hand to lift the golden hair that fell by her ear, and a hint of vigilance flashed across her eyes. This kind of nervous tension was the subconscious nature of the Clock Tower magician when encountering a priest.

——After all, although the Clock Tower and the Cathedral Church have now concluded an agreement and are celebrating the peace that did not exist in the past, the impact of the many wars in history still remains in the minds of both parties.

"Priest Fernand," Belsac broke the silence and nodded to the middle-aged man, "They are my guests. Can you let them pass?"

"Please, please. The church's doors are always open to everyone," Priest Fernande said. His thick neck trembled slightly, and his heavy head slowly turned as the words fell, as if even this simple movement made his body seem particularly unwieldy. His eyes fell on Xing Qingjiu and the others, and he didn't hide his suspicion at all. His weary eyes narrowed, and then he slowly bent forward.

"—Good afternoon. My name is Fernand Crozier." He forced a stiff smile, which smelled of greasiness. "May I know your names?"

Priest Fernand's expression remained unchanged. He appeared completely unfamiliar with the name "El-Melloi," not even a hint of hesitation or confusion.

Lanis noticed this and thought to herself, "Is she completely unaware of the world of magic, or is she wearing such a thick mask that she can't even reveal a single emotion?" Her thoughts were still lingering when her peripheral vision caught sight of Xing Qingfan, who sat silently beside her. His gaze never left the young nun.

To be precise, Xing Qingqi's gaze was not fixed on the nun's face, but on her torso.

"Although she does have a nice figure, is it really necessary to stare at her like that?" Lanis's mouth twitched slightly, and she couldn't help but complain inwardly, but then she thought of another possibility. "No, Dr. Xing isn't that kind of person. It seems that she is more worthy of vigilance?"

"So that's how it's set up," Xing Qingfeng thought to himself. "It looks like some kind of standard ceremonial attire... Is it usually simulated as ordinary gloves or boots? But I haven't seen Kirei-san use it. Is it because different factions distribute different standard ceremonial attire?"

Xing Qingfu was indeed staring at the nun, but it was not because she had a good figure or was threatening. He was just curious about the formal attire she was wearing.

"Excuse me, what should I call the nun over there?" Weber broke the silence at the right time, his tone soft and cautious.

"I am Sister Ilumia." The young nun smiled slightly, her tone frivolous and casual, obviously not someone who was easy to get close to.

"Then please follow me into the church." Priest Fernande brought the conversation back on track. He turned around, his heavy body moving slowly like a hill towards the church at the north end of the village.

The path leading to the church wound upward, its gravel paving unevenly. The withered grass on either side rustled softly in the wind. A couple of gray sparrows suddenly flew out from the grass, fluttering their wings in panic before disappearing into the distance. The sky was stained orange-red by the deepening sunset glow, its afterglow illuminating the church spire, casting a faint glow. While the spire still appeared majestic, a closer look revealed the scaly stonework of the church's exterior walls had begun to peel. Ivy, clinging to it, its layers of leaves adding a touch of vitality to the building, yet also revealing a sense of desolation.

Finally, they arrived at the church. The heavy wooden door had already been opened, revealing the deep, dark space within. A scent of wood and the faint aroma of candlelight filled the air, bringing a sense of tranquility and simplicity.

The interior of the church was more spacious than expected, with a very high ceiling. Sunlight filtered through the stained glass, casting shadows on the clean floor, creating colorful patterns. The entire church had clearly been meticulously cleaned; there wasn't a speck of dust on the wooden pews, and the candles in the metal candlesticks were neatly arranged, each emitting a soft glow.

Although the church wasn't luxurious, its meticulous cleanliness and orderliness were enough to demonstrate the village's devotion to its faith. Xing Qingjiu's gaze swept across the benches, as if he could see the villagers quietly gathering there every Sunday during mass to listen to Priest Fernande's sermons.

However, the most eye-catching thing is located at the back of the sanctuary.

"That doesn't seem to be the belief of an ordinary church," Xing Qingqiu said, pointing out its strangeness. "I've worked in the church for a while, and I haven't seen anything like it—"

It was an unusual statue, standing at the center of the altar. Crafted not from ordinary stone but a smooth, black obsidian, it shone with a deep luster in the dim light, its dark features striking in the candlelight. Its imagery was also quite different from the traditional Madonna. Though she held the infant, the savior, her posture was different from that of typical Madonna images. She was tall, with an imposing figure, her eyes piercing as she surveyed the audience below, more like a female general than a loving mother.

"——Strange, political correctness shouldn't have swept the world so early, right? How did Maria become Ni..."

"Ah, it's the Black Maria," Weber interrupted Xing Qingjiu with a slightly raised voice, as if he had predicted what he was about to say. "It's a rare Christian sect that's found in places like Europe. Mr. Xing, the church you worked for beforehand was in Japan, so naturally you haven't heard of it."

"So, are you our Japanese brothers?" Priest Fernando's voice was low and gentle, tinged with a smile. He folded his hands and leaned slightly, seemingly unperturbed. He pointed at the statue and continued, "Famous examples include the Virgin Mary at Montserrat Monastery and the Virgin Mary at Le Puy Cathedral. These black-faced Madonnas differ significantly from typical Marian statues. This phenomenon is also seen in icons of patron saints, perhaps due to the absorption of the Earth Mother and pre-Christian beliefs."

"So that's the setting." Xing Qingqiu stood beside the church bench and nodded slightly. "This kind of example is not uncommon." Xing Qingqiu looked up at the statue, his eyes lingering on the dark face for a moment before continuing, "I just didn't expect to see something like this in Europe—"

"—I originally thought this kind of high degree of integration with local religions only happened in East Asia or even the Americas." He turned his head, a hint of irony and depth in his tone. "But when I think about it, it doesn't seem too strange to see this happening in the UK."

"After all, it's not directly under the jurisdiction of the Church," Priest Fernando replied softly. His gaze swept across the rows of pews in the church, finally landing on a row of candles lit at the foot of the statue. The candlelight flickered slightly, illuminating his face. "Stubborn extremists will cause big problems here."

"By the way, before you come to my house," Belsac suddenly spoke in a low and powerful voice, "could you please pray to the holy image? It's the custom in this village."

As soon as he finished speaking, he took the lead and walked towards the statue of Saint Liu Leng'er. He slowly knelt down. Due to his tall stature, this movement seemed particularly heavy and full of ritual. It seemed more like a knight's oath than a prayer.

"If the church here doesn't mind others praying here," Weber bowed his head slightly and made the sign of the cross, and Lanis followed suit.

——As for Xing Qingjiu, he stood behind him indifferent.

"Hmm..." He narrowed his eyes slightly, and his gaze slowly swept over the face, clothes and base of the statue, finally stopping on the dark face.

"Is it impossible to accept this school of faith?" Priest Fernande spoke at the right moment, his voice low and kind. He leaned slightly, obviously sensing Xing Qingjiu's hesitation.

"No...ah, to a certain extent." Xing Qingyu paused for a moment, as if about to deny it, but then nodded, his eyes filled with deep thought, "I may need to make some preparations here before I can pray--"

"--You don't mind, do you?" He looked at Belsac, a faint smile on his lips, a hint of request in his tone, but his expression remained calm.

"Just pray to the icon. It's just a village custom," Belsac said gravely. He had just stood up, his massive frame causing the wooden floor to creak dully. He straightened up and glanced at Xing Qingjiu with a scrutinizing look, a hint of unconcealed doubt in his expression.

"This may take me a while." Xing Qingqiu said calmly, "You can take Weber and the others to discuss the business first. After all, I'm just an assistant. It's really unreasonable to waste your time on me—"

"—After I'm ready, I will pray to the holy icon in the presence of the priest." After he finished speaking, he raised his chin slightly and looked at Belsac calmly.

Belsac remained silent for a moment, his deep eyes fixed on Xing Qingjiu, as if trying to discern something from his expression. After a few seconds, he gently shook his head and turned to look at Priest Fernand standing nearby.

"Then, Priest Fernand, please assist Mr. Xing in making the preparations." Belsac paused briefly, then added a little more emphasis. "Please be sure to complete the prayer. This is the custom in the village."

"Of course, I understand." Priest Fernando nodded gently.

Then, Belsac turned and walked out of the back door of the church. His steps were steady and the dull footsteps gradually faded away.

Weber hesitated for a moment, glanced at Xing Qingqiu, and found that Xing Qingqiu still looked indifferent, then he left with Lanise.

However, in a rare move, he took the initiative to put his arm around Lanise's shoulders. As the two of them left, Weber's back seemed a little tense, and he seemed to unconsciously use a little more force in his arm around Lanise. Inside the church, Xing Qingjiu remained standing, his head slightly tilted as he gazed in the direction they were leaving, his face still nonchalant.

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Probably from here on, it gradually deviates from the original. How should I put it... It always makes me feel weird compared to the original (

The above is a new book by a new author. Please vote and give me feedback. Thank you!

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Watching the battle between the GO group and the Ci group, I hereby declare that I have never slandered my sister Yang, a true believer of the Dusk Witness!

Volume 11: Xing Qingjiu's Perfect Arithmetic Classroom: . Xing Qingjiu, a Non-Staff Member of the Holy Church

The black-faced Madonna in front of me is in magic costume.

Xing Qingqiu saw through this fact at a glance. The statue of the Virgin Mary in the church was like a magician's magic costume... This in itself was very wrong.

The act of "praying" to the magic costume has many explanations in mysticism, and it is likely that it has some connection with the costume of the holy icon.

For the sake of safety, the best solution at this time should be to interrupt the prayer process -

——But the problem was that this journey was for Waver to seek help for his participation in the Holy Grail War. Just as he had said before, if he accepted the help of the victor of the Fourth Holy Grail War, that is, his opponent back then, with his awkward personality, he probably would not be able to accept it.

Therefore, long before coming, Weber had agreed with Xing Qingyu that Xing Qingyu would only be there to act as a third wheel in this operation and would not interfere with Weber's actions.

"But judging from Weber's reaction just now, he seems to have noticed something is wrong..." Xing Qingyu stood in front of the statue, thinking about Weber's slightly uneasy expression.

"My brother, are you unable to accept this heretical faith?" Priest Fernande asked gently, his voice as warm as melting ice. However, this gentleness failed to conceal a hint of temptation in his words. Priest Fernande's eyes seemed to flicker with anticipation, as if awaiting Xing Qingjiu's response, as if observing his every move.

"I simply can't trust a strange magician." Xing Qingqiu pulled three black keys from his pocket and gently twirled them, his eyes never leaving the statue of the Virgin. He observed the two men, especially Priest Fernande's reaction, secretly trying to figure out their true intentions.

"Let me introduce myself again. I'm Xing Qingqiu. I used to work at the Fuyuki Church and was a friend of the Eighth Secret Society's Priest Kotomine Risei and Agent Kotomine Kirei," Xing Qingqiu said. "To a certain extent, you could say I was a non-staff member of the Holy Church."

"Please wait a moment." Just as Xing Qingjiu finished speaking, he was surprised by Priest Fernande's reaction. The obese priest suddenly displayed astonishing agility, seemingly unconstrained by his size. With lightning speed, he rushed to the church's back door in the blink of an eye.

Although he was bloated, the speed at which he rushed to the door was surprisingly fast, almost comparable to the walking speed of an ordinary person.

——However, just as he was about to touch the doorknob, the nun standing nearby finally couldn't stand his squirming movements any longer. She stepped forward almost without hesitation and quickly closed the back door.

Priest Fernande stood panting at the door, his face covered in sweat, his stout body trembling slightly. He looked down at his own panting, which had not yet subsided, then raised his head, as if to explain something.

"Ha...Brother from the Japanese Church, why are you..." He didn't seem to finish his words, but a hint of confusion and surprise flashed in his eyes. "It's strange, why did you come to such a remote place?"

"There are relics in Japan that are nominally holy," Xing Qingqi explained softly. "Although they are only nominally holy relics, since they are called holy relics, they must be controlled by the church—"

"—The magician who came, Weber Velvet, is also involved in the ritual related to this holy relic." Xing Qingqiu paused, "And his purpose in coming this time is to make some preparations for this ritual."

Ilumia frowned slightly and suddenly asked, "Holy Grail War?" Her voice was as clear as the chime of a church bell. "I've heard of the names of Kotomine and his son in the church, but as for the Holy Grail War, I've only heard it's a ritual to summon so-called Heroic Spirits. I see—"

"—I think I understand your purpose now."

"That's right." Xing Qingjiu nodded, and turned his gaze back to the black-faced Madonna statue. "In this way, it won't be considered the Church's direct intervention."

He wasn't lying. If Newton were recognized as the Messiah, then Xing Qingjiu, his student, would not be rejected by the church if he claimed to be a non-staff member of the Holy Church. The church might even proactively declare him a member. He had indeed worked in the Fuyuki church, and his description of the Holy Grail War was completely true.

"Can you sing the baptismal chant?" Ilumia seemed a little worried, and there was a hint of temptation in her words.

Xing Qingqiu didn't answer immediately. Instead, he pulled a small silver cross from his coat pocket, lowered his head, examined it carefully for a moment, then gently placed it on his chest. He closed his eyes and chanted quietly, "I kill, I give life. What I wound, I heal." His voice was low and steady. "My eyes and ears are the Lord's eyes and ears; my hands and feet are the Lord's hands and feet; my mercy is the Lord's mercy; on the Lord's behalf, I perform His miracles on this earth—"

"—Lord, have mercy (Kirie Eleison)!" As he uttered the last word, Xing Qingqiu pressed the cross tightly against his chest. The air in the church seemed to freeze in that instant. The cross emanated a soft light, quietly flowing across Xing Qingqiu's chest, like the first rays of dawn, warm and tranquil.

He put the cross back into his pocket, gently smoothed his collar, and glanced at the nuns and priests standing nearby. He asked, "Is this enough?" He paused, "Do you have any other statues of the Virgin Mary here?"

"Oh? What are you going to do?" Priest Fernande asked curiously.

"According to the gravekeeper, isn't praying to the holy image mandatory before entering the village?" Xing Qingqi said, "I have no intention of asking my brothers and sisters to hide this for me, nor do I intend to deliberately break my promise."