"If someone could get their hands on the complete ledger for the national Seal system, they could draw a 'countdown map.'"
"It would be clear at a glance which places will be the first to fall."
Hecate remained silent.
She sat in her chair, the two-faced mask flickering between light and shadow in the moonlight.
Only after a long period of silence did she finally speak.
"Hermes, your question was excellent."
"You are welcome to attend the next gathering."
This statement was her way of telling everyone else at the Round Table that this newcomer had her approval and wasn't just there to fill a seat.
Hecate was pleased. She had sent out a dozen or so tokens this time, but most failed to even meet the minimum activation standard.
The few who did all had powerful family backgrounds, and the tokens were all discarded or disposed of.
Of the two she had reeled in today, one was still hard to get a read on, but this one... this one had at least shown sufficient potential.
Richard gave a slight nod. "I'm honored."
He didn't say another word, knowing it was best to quit while he was ahead.
Nemesis, however, never spoke again.
Her silence stood in contrast to Richard's contribution.
Richard didn't know if she was doing it intentionally or if she had planned to stay silent the whole time.
'But her silence is actually more advantageous for me,' he thought. 'Contrast is what makes you stand out.'
Hecate raised her hand and swiped it gently above the table.
"That will be all for tonight."
"For our two newcomers, before you leave, I must go over the rules."
"The Divine Pantheon Salon meets once every two months, in the middle of the even-numbered months."
"February, April, June, August, October, and December. During the middle of each of those months, you will be guided here from your dreams."
"The specific day and time may not be exactly the same. The Delivery Technique has its own rhythm; a fluctuation of a day or two is normal."
Her gaze swept over the two newcomers.
"Tonight was an introductory session held specially for the two of you."
"By tradition, whenever new members join, an extra session is held between two formal gatherings."
"However, this extra session does not replace a formal one. The next formal gathering will still be in mid-December."
Richard did a quick mental calculation.
'Today is the beginning of November.'
'If the next formal gathering is in mid-December, that leaves a gap of at least five to six weeks.'
'That's a generous interval. Enough time for me to get a lot done.'
Hecate continued.
"Outside of this Round Table, each of you has a token."
"The same pottery coin that allowed you to enter this place."
She raised her hand and pointed lightly in the direction of the two newcomers.
"This door recognizes you now. You needed an invitation for your first time, but from now on, you are regulars. You can just push the door and enter."
"Before the next gathering, I will have a Spirit Realm Messenger notify you and deliver new tokens befitting your status."
"I suggest you keep the tokens safe, but you don't need to carry them with you."
She spoke frankly, likely guessing what the two of them were worried about.
"Understood," Richard said, then asked, "Do the tokens have any other functions?"
Hecate nodded. "Outside of the formal gatherings, if you wish to privately contact a member at this table—for a trade, an inquiry, to send a file, or even just to ask a simple question—you only need to hold the token, silently recite the codename of the person you're looking for, and state your request to the token."
"You will receive a reply by the same time the next day at the latest."
"Between gatherings, you can send up to five private messages. After the fifth, you must wait until the next gathering for it to reset."
"Additionally, if any traded items require my appraisal services, I will charge a fee accordingly."
As she mentioned this last rule, the maiden's half of the mask curved into a smile.
Richard mentally repeated the rules, making sure he hadn't missed a single word.
'A formal gathering every two months, with extra sessions for new members that don't count toward the official schedule. A limit of five private messages or deliveries every two months, and an extra fee for appraisal services.'
'The rules were minimalist, but behind each one stood a fully thought-out system.'
'Simplicity is the hallmark of a mature design.'
But as Hecate explained the rules, a few details in her phrasing made the scales in Richard's mind tip ever so slightly.
'First, "the next formal gathering."'
'She said "next," but didn't casually mention when a similar situation had last occurred.'
'In any organization that's been running for years, the host, when explaining the rules to a newcomer, would inevitably drop a line like "the last time so-and-so joined" or "we ran into this a few years ago."'
'But in Hecate's speech, there was virtually no frame of reference to the past.'
'Second, there were seven chairs in total, three of which were empty before they arrived.'
'If this was a circle that had been around for many years, those seven chairs should have long since been filled. At the very least, they should have reached full capacity a few times, accounting for natural attrition.'
'This meant they hadn't finished recruiting.'
'Aries's hesitation when he took out the Three-Ring Enchanted Bullet wasn't just reluctance to part with it; perhaps his trust in this group was still in a probationary phase.'
Richard strung these clues together into a conclusion.
'The Divine Pantheon Salon hasn't been in operation for very long.'
'A year or two at most.'
'At the least, probably less than a year.'
'A gathering that was only recently established is one that's still growing, not yet solidified.'
'For someone joining now, if they can maintain a stable contribution, their influence will accumulate much faster than if they joined a century-old organization.'
'For me, this is an excellent time to get in.'
Hecate raised her hand. "The gathering should now end."
Her figure began to turn transparent.
"Remember, to leave, close your eyes and count to seven."
Richard closed his eyes.
After everyone had dispersed, Hecate remained seated in the host's chair.
She raised her hand and made a grasping motion in the air.
Illusions of a dozen or so pottery coins materialized on the tabletop.
These were all the tokens she had delivered over the past few days.
Each one was connected to its invitee by an extremely fine Spirit Line.
Every action the invitee took after receiving the pottery coin was fed back to her along this line.
Besides the two newcomers from tonight, she still had to check on the other invitees.
With that in mind, she examined them one by one.
The image returned by the first thread was of a brightly lit, classical library.
The Montague family. The moment she sent it out, she had guessed they would react.
The Montague family was a true old-guard family within the Sun Tradition, and the Old Count Salisbury was this generation's representative.
A Grand Master Hunter of the Sun Tradition, he was known as a tough nut to crack in the Imperial Capital's circles.
The Montague family's child had won the Cicero Cup, making them one of the easiest targets to bring into her scope of observation this year.
This was a piece she had deliberately cast into the Montague family's territory; she wanted to see what caliber of person they would send in response.
The response came.
In the first frame of the image returned by the thread, the Old Count was standing by the library window.
In the second frame, another person appeared beside him.
Hecate's fingertip froze abruptly on the first thread.
The Ether Density emanating from that person was so immense she almost couldn't stop herself from pulling her finger back.
Hecate's expected reaction was for the Montague family to send a Minor Mastery to come and burn the pottery coin, and that would be the end of it.
She hadn't expected the Old Count to invite a Grand Mastery, let alone one who had progressed so far along the Grand Mastery path that they were approaching the Expert Level.
After the Grand Mastery had dealt with the pottery coin cleanly and efficiently, they looked up in the image.
Hecate felt as if that single glance had pierced straight through her seven layers of Seals.
Behind that glance was some old monster hidden deep within the Imperial Capital, one who normally never made an appearance.
An Expert of the Sun Tradition.
The known Experts within the Imperial borders could be counted on two hands.
Hecate didn't know who this one was.
But they had borrowed a glance through that Grand Mastery.
In that glance was a single, crystal-clear message: "Don't stick your hand in here again."
Hecate sat for a long time.
She raised her hand and, with her left index finger, drew a small "×" over that wisp of thread.
After checking on Montague, Hecate's gaze shifted to the second thread.
The second one sent back an image of a private study at Harrow School.
Philips was Bartholomew's son.
Bartholomew himself was a Grand Mastery Level Hunter, but the Secretive Ones he could command were of a respectable level as well.
The pottery coin was discovered quickly, just as Hecate had expected.
The entire disposal process was standard, professional, and not reckless.
But it was merely standard.
The highest level Bartholomew could command was Minor Mastery.
Hecate could keep this line in mind, but for now, there was no need to allocate any more resources to it.
She drew a "△" on the second thread.
'Observe, but do not engage deeply.'
She still had to deal with the dozen or so remaining threads one by one.
Hephaestus, grandson of a Grand Mastery Level Alchemist. The token had been destroyed by his family. She drew an "×".
Athena, a classics graduate student at Imperial University. She had activated it herself by touch and was half-hooked. But her Mentor had just sent out a warning Technique echo. Hecate hesitated, then finally drew an "×".
Poseidon, son of a naval officer. The Secretive One sent by his family was too young and handled it poorly. He could have been reeled in, but Hecate didn't want to bring in too many new members at once. Marked for postponement.
Demeter, heir to a certain manor. She hadn't even noticed the token and had tossed it into a wastebasket cleared out by the servants. An "×".
Pan, an actor at Covent Garden. He mistook the token for a costume prop and put it in a makeup box. She marked it with a "?".
A few more had failed due to delivery failure, activation failure, or the invitee simply not meeting the minimum inspiration threshold.
The Spirit Realm Messenger had taken one look from afar and turned back on its own.
One by one, the threads were processed and their fates decided.
In the end, the only two she felt comfortable pulling into the Divine Hall were the two she had now.
Catherine had no background, which put her at ease.
Richard's moderate background also put her at ease.

Comments

Loading...