"I’m ashamed to say," he replied calmly.
"I couldn’t undo your Seal on my own. I lost the trail after the third stroke’s turning point."
"Oh?" Hecate’s crone-like voice chimed in. "Then how did it become an empty shell?"
"I received help from a senior."
Richard offered the explanation, but left it hanging.
"A senior Scholar."
The breathing of the others at the table grew fainter.
"While this senior was undoing your Seal..."
Richard continued, "He explained a few things to me as he worked. My own knowledge is shallow, so I only remember the gist of it."
Hecate’s golden mask faced him, silent.
"This senior said that your Seal’s framework was quite ingeniously constructed."
Richard began with a compliment.
"Especially the third layer of overlapping imprints. It entwined the intents of ’closure’ and ’reverse-reading’ into a single strand, layered so densely as to be airtight. He said that this layering method looked a bit familiar, like a certain paper from 1887."
"The senior also said..."
"You modified the Inscription on that framework yourself, and the modifications were brilliant.
Anyone capable of modifying an old framework to create these two new turning points is a true connoisseur."
After saying this, Richard stopped.
He didn’t use the word "copy," didn’t say "as if you thought I wouldn’t be able to tell," and certainly didn’t reveal the professor’s name.
But those in the know would naturally understand the hidden meaning.
On the surface, his words praised Hecate for being a "connoisseur" and "brilliant."
But someone who could recognize whose framework it was and which parts were modified with just a glance... who was more skilled? Was there any need to even think about it?
At the head of the table, the silhouette of the torch and key wavered, then steadied.
Hecate was silent for a long while.
Richard waited.
To publicly accuse someone of plagiarism, anyone would fly into a rage;
but as long as you offered a way out—framing "copying" as "following a tradition," and "being seen through" as "appreciation from a fellow connoisseur"...
she could take that way out and even preserve her dignity.
"...That paper."
Hecate finally spoke, the sharp edge in her maiden’s voice now gone:
"I did indeed study it in depth."
"The person who wrote it must be quite old by now."
"Yes," Richard replied. "That senior is very old."
"Is the professor still teaching?" Hecate asked.
"Occasionally."
"I see."
Hecate didn’t press further.
She didn’t ask for a name, and Richard didn’t offer one.
But no one at the table was a layman.
On the Mysterious Side, any Scholar revered as a professor was a Grand Master.
The Experts, Masters, and Hidden Seats mentioned in the literature were rarely seen in the Old Continent.
The rank of Grand Mastery was the pinnacle attainable by the living.
Behind Richard stood such a figure.
Nemesis’s Balance Scale tipped completely toward Richard.
’I’m a lone daughter of the Moon Hunter Series. The few connections my father had before his death were mostly severed after he passed away.’
’I secured my seat at this anonymous Round Table through sheer, unyielding stubbornness, digging out my family’s heirlooms one by one to trade for a future.’
’This boy, Hermes, is different.’
’He has backing, and what’s more, his words just now were perfectly poised between advancing and retreating.’
’He revealed what he needed to, concealed what he had to, and even managed to save Hecate’s face.’
Nemesis felt an indescribable emotion. ’If only I had someone backing me up too...’
Aries was curled up in his chair.
He thought back to himself from half a year ago.
’Back then, he had confidently spread his Three-Ring Enchanted Bullets on the table, wanting to trade for information on the Ashen Zone.’
’He thought of himself as a Hunter, the only one at this table who had truly fought his way in and out of the lairs of Evil Beings with blade and gun.’
’And now?’
’Sitting at this table, he couldn’t even manage a coherent word of congratulations.’
’Scholars really are different. They live long, have high status, and become more precious the higher up they go.’
Prometheus paid this no mind. He was pondering who exactly was behind Richard.
’There weren’t many Scholars within the Imperial borders who could be revered as a "Professor."’
’Those on the record, those who had left official positions, those in seclusion—he had a rough idea of them all.’
’He would have to re-evaluate how close he should get to this boy, and how much distance he should keep.’
Dionysus, who had just been promoted to Minor Mastery, looked at Richard with a deeper understanding than the others.
’Once you reach Minor Mastery and cross that threshold, you can truly begin to grasp the weight Scholars carry in the entire system of the Mysterious Side.’
’Promotion to Minor Mastery requires transferring a part of your soul into a signature Marvel.’
’And that crucial ritual requires the help of a Scholar...’
Meanwhile, Demeter’s ears perked up instantly.
She remained impassive, her hands resting on her knees and her mask lowered, feigning that she had heard nothing.
But in her mind, the gears were already turning at high speed.
’1887, in the field of Sealing Art, a paper good enough for Hecate to use as a framework...’
A wrinkled old face immediately surfaced in Demeter’s mind.
White eyebrows, sparse hair, hands that were always trembling. He held everything so precariously, yet he had never truly spilled a single drop.
She had only met him once, at an academic seminar in the Imperial Capital whose topic she could no longer recall.
When the host said, "We now invite Professor Silas Mortimer to provide his comments," she had expected a great figure with a formidable aura to walk up.
But instead, a stooped old man walked up, supported by a young assistant, fumbling shakily for the steps for a good while.
Back then, she was still a greenhorn who had just crossed the Practitioner’s threshold, and she thought to herself:
’This is a Grand Master Professor from Imperial University? This old man looks like he’s at death’s door, doesn’t he?’
Then the old man sat at the speaker’s podium and opened his mouth.
And she had no time to think about anything else.
’And now, the boy at this table is backed by that professor?’
Demeter thought of that wrinkled old face and found it somewhat amusing.
’Hecate’s Seal was built on a stolen framework from the old man?’
’If the old man found out, he would probably go, leaning on his cane and trembling, to demand an explanation.’
Of course, all of this swirled through her mind, but beneath her mask, the surface remained calm, revealing nothing.
She was always like this.
’My business of running in circles in the wasteland must not be known.’
’The fact that I find these youngsters so peculiar and fascinating is also not to be known.’
’Someone on the verge of Grand Mastery must act like someone on the verge of Grand Mastery.’
’Composed, taciturn, able to command a room.’
’As for that bit of liveliness that can’t be hidden... let’s just keep it in check.’
Richard unhurriedly put the empty box and the Copper Mirror back into his leather pouch.
He hadn’t brought these two items for a trade, but to establish his reputation.
With his reputation established, he intended to ride this wave of momentum to conduct the small piece of business he truly wanted to accomplish tonight.
"I have something else here."
"One is a reverse-engineered model of the [Shadow Armor], and the other is the [Moon Nail · Reflection]."
"They’re not exclusive anymore. Aries and Nemesis both have copies."
Dionysus was still hesitating; his promotion had completely drained his limited resources.
Demeter, on the other hand, raised her lowered Terracotta Mask.
"I heard Hecate mention those two papers before. I’m personally very interested."
Richard looked at her.
Demeter’s calloused hands rested on the edge of the table.
"I came in a hurry and didn’t prepare anything. I can’t pull anything decent from my inventory to trade with you."
As she spoke, she took out a stack of something and placed it on the table.
It was a thick stack of banknotes.
"But I brought money. Thirty pounds for one, sixty for both."
After speaking, she pushed the stack of banknotes toward Richard.
"See if this is enough."
The gazes of everyone at the table fell in unison on the stack of banknotes.
Sixty pounds was not a small sum.
Richard did a quick calculation in his head.
’These two documents were something I deduced and wrote out myself. It was just paperwork; there was no cost.’
Now, with just a few words from Demeter, sixty pounds in cash was sitting on the table.
It was basically an extra sixty pounds for free.
"It’s enough. Deal."
Demeter took them and placed the two documents on her lap.
"Hermes, that appraisal skill of yours..."
She glanced again at the empty ebony box.
"In the future, if I have any items I’m not sure about, could you take a look for me?"
"I can take a look," Richard had been waiting for this. "Appraisals will be charged accordingly."
"You should charge," Demeter nodded. "Paid work is the only reliable kind. I don’t trust freebies."
Hecate’s three-phase voice layered together again.
"The trading phase ends here."
"We will now begin sharing intelligence."
Once the intelligence-sharing phase began, the conversation at the table immediately turned to a single topic.
Prometheus spoke first.
His contact on the New Continent brought back the gravest news tonight.
Another colony had been added to the three in the interior of the New Continent that had been emptied out by "neither war nor plague."
The houses were still there, the furniture was still there, even the clothes hanging on the lines were still there. But the people were gone.
The Navy Department was still unable to gather enough volunteers for a relief team.
"War is brewing on the Old Continent," Prometheus said, suppressing the flame above his head. "And things are getting chaotic on the New Continent as well."
"The two are connected," Nemesis added.
Her contact in the Highlands reported that the Evil Beings were moving south.
The number of roaming Evil Beings in the Northern Gael Highlands had surged again in the past two months. They were moving south along the industrial belt, and faster than before.
"My contact couldn’t find out what’s driving them," Nemesis said. "They only know that the beings are running."
Dionysus reported on the situation in the Imperial Capital.
The alert level for abnormal incidents was raised another half-step last month by the committee under the Royal Society.
The maintenance cycle for registered Seals has been shortened from eight months to six.
Aries had no new information.
His contact in the Ashen Zone was severed along with his arm.
He could only briefly describe some of the more troublesome Evil Beings in the Ashen Zone, and that was all.
Demeter remained silent as usual.
When it was her turn, she just shook her head.
"I have nothing much to report. I watch over matters in the fields. For the past two years, the grain in the fields has been growing faster and faster, but also weaker and weaker."
She said only this one sentence and then fell silent again.
Richard’s heart stirred.
’The grain grows fast, but weak.’
’This phrase sounds like farming talk, but when applied to the matter of the Curtain... it implies weak points that grow quickly, weak points with shallow nourishment.’
’The "fields" this one is watching over are probably no ordinary fields.’
He didn’t press for details. It was his turn.
He mentally sorted through what could and could not be said.
The night at the Unyielding Pit, Professor Mortimer sealed the pit, and that Expert from the Gale Tradition arrived, riding the wind.
Two old friends meeting after several decades—Richard had heard every word of their conversation.
’Some of it must never be repeated outside.’
’The Expert’s main body being in the New Continent, his saying that his birth village was in this area, his refusal to tell the Professor the village’s name before leaving...’
’Not a single word of that could be revealed.’
But there was one thing he could share.
"The fallen Grand Master of Hemes Island," Richard began.
The others at the table looked over.
Even Hecate herself had said her channels were only good enough to know that he "was dead," but not "how he died."
"I heard a little about his cause of death," Richard said.
From the head of the table, Hecate’s golden mask turned toward him.
"He wasn’t killed by someone," Richard said, word by word. "He starved to death."

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