I Loaded the Occult Panel

She flipped through a few pages and asked, ”I see the casting medium mentioned in the booklet requires a Gargoyle.”

”A finished medium like that probably isn’t easy to find, is it?”

Richard was already prepared for this question.

”A Gargoyle is the optimal medium, but it isn’t the only one,” he said.

”When the Inscription Master Guild created this Spell Formula, their original intent was standardized authorization.

”Find a stone with trace ether infiltration to use as a base, carve the key trigger inscriptions from the appendix onto it, and it can serve as a basic medium.”

”Are the requirements for this ether infiltration high?”

”Not particularly,” Richard replied.

”Any stone that has sat in an ether-active area for a few decades or more will meet the conditions.

”Paving stones salvaged from an old church, scraps from around an old seal, or even pieces picked out of a waste rock pile at a mine will all work.”Once you’re proficient, you can dispense with the medium entirely.”

Nemesis nodded and did not press the matter.

She offered a few words of caution in return:

”Silver Needles are consumables. If you retrieve them after casting, a single needle can survive about ten practice sessions.”

”More demanding casters will use short silver blades, but those cost more and are harder to control than Silver Needles.”

”Beginners generally start with Silver Needles.”

Richard tucked the Moon Nail booklet away into his hidden compartment.

Strictly speaking, he had come out slightly ahead in this trade.

Although Stone Armor was a general Spell Formula, the medium requirement would always be a hurdle for the buyer.

Even though he had just clearly explained the process for creating a homemade medium, the other party still had to find the right stone, carve the inscriptions, and slowly acclimate to it.

From acquiring the booklet to actually practicing the Spell Formula, it would take a week or two at the very least.

With Moon Nail, however, the casting medium was just a Silver Needle. He could start practicing the moment he got his hands on one.

Richard placed his final set of materials on the table:

”A practical methodology for cracking seal transfer points. It covers identification methods for several mainstream transfer points, force control when prying them open, and the reverse process of patching them with wax afterward.”

Prometheus leaned forward slightly.

He generally took an interest in this type of material, but after reading a few lines, he sat back.

”This methodology of yours,” he said, ”is fairly entry-level.”

”It is,” Richard admitted frankly.

No one else showed much interest, so Richard took the manual back.

This was the lowest-risk, lowest-value item on his list anyway. It didn’t matter if it failed to attract a trade.

The trading at the table came to a temporary halt.

Everyone was reviewing the materials they had just acquired, and Hecate did not rush them from the head seat.

Richard seized the opening.

”Everyone.”

Several gazes around the table shifted his way.

”I have another question I’d like to ask the table, if I may.”

Hecate gave a slight nod from the head seat, gesturing for him to continue.

Richard posed his prepared question.

”An elder in my family damaged their ether circuit in their youth.”

”Do any of you know of a way to heal ether circuit damage?”

Prometheus frowned.

”Circuit damage falls into two categories.”

”The first is caused by physical trauma, which is relatively easy to treat.”

”The second is caused by a failed Rank breakthrough. That kind is difficult to treat.”

”Which category applies to your elder?”

”A failed Rank breakthrough,” Richard replied.

”Breaking through to which Rank?”

”Minor Adept.”

At that, Nemesis also turned her head slightly.

Dionysus took a sip from his wine glass without commenting.

Prometheus thought for a moment.

”Circuit damage caused by a failed ritual is much more difficult.”

”It requires Major Adept-level methods to cure completely. I have no good solutions to offer.”

Richard wasn’t particularly disappointed; he had known what to expect.

If his mother’s injuries were that easy to treat, his grandfather and aunt would have intervened long ago.

The fact that they hadn’t likely meant the cost of treatment was too high, or perhaps... the family simply couldn’t find a Major Adept willing to bear that cost on their behalf.

”However...” Prometheus flipped through the booklet he had just acquired.

”Even if it can’t be completely cured, there are daily maintenance methods.”

”Daily maintenance?”

”A massage on the ether level.”

Prometheus gave Hecate a nod, then materialized a small booklet and passed it over.

”This is a massage technique used to continuously nourish damaged circuits with ether. It’s widely circulated, so consider it a gift of friendship.”

Richard took the small booklet.

It contained a set of illustrated techniques, each noting the specific breathing rhythm, pressure points, and ether injection volume.

Prometheus offered a word of caution:

”This kind of massage will, at best, make the recipient feel comfortable. It is nowhere near a cure.”

”But if maintained consistently, it can delay further circuit degradation and alleviate daily discomfort.”

”Understood.”

”Also.” Prometheus’s gaze fell on the bottle of Condensate Richard had just received.

”Do not use Condensate to treat circuit damage.”

Richard’s fingers paused; he had indeed entertained exactly that thought.

”The effects of Condensate are too intense,” Prometheus said. ”Using it to treat such deep-seated damage might cause secondary trauma.”

”The primary uses for Condensate...” He made a gesture.

”Are for breaking through during rituals, prolonging life in combat, temporarily strengthening the body, and stimulating the power of Spell Formulas.”

”You can consider it a type of stimulant or catalyst.”

Richard nodded. ”Thanks for the warning.”

”It’s nothing.” Prometheus put his booklet away.

The other two at the table had nothing to add.

Richard carefully folded the page of massage techniques and stowed it in his hidden compartment alongside the Moon Nail booklet and the bottle of Condensate he had just traded for.

Dionysus’s gaze swept over the two small booklets in a seemingly casual but perceptive glance.

When those two items were presented earlier, both he and Prometheus had coincidentally refrained from making an offer.

They both already possessed similar general-type Spell Formulas.

Privately, Dionysus adjusted his estimation of the newcomer’s Rank down another notch.

A Newcomer, or perhaps a Practitioner who had only recently crossed the Signature threshold.

Prometheus had arrived at the exact same conclusion.

However, the conceptual logic behind that reverse-engineered model was genuinely stunning.

For a Newcomer to develop a reverse-engineered model to that extent proved they had a sharp mind.

Dionysus took a sip of his wine.

Everyone sitting at this table had leaped out of their respective little ponds and swam toward the great ocean.

They wouldn’t look down on the newcomer just because of this assessment.

Sometimes, newcomers progressed much faster than veterans.

From the head seat, Hecate gave a slight nod. ”The trading segment has concluded.”

”The intelligence segment will now begin.” She raised a hand and swept it lightly through the air above the table.

”The rules remain the same. For the one who shares the most, I will appropriately match your target resources during the next trade.”

As soon as she finished, Dionysus set his wine glass down.

He sat up straight, entirely shedding his previously negligent posture.

”I’ll go first.”

”In the Imperial Capital over the past week, the Royal Society Anomaly Investigation Committee issued another internal bulletin.”

”This bulletin officially confirmed the warning level for anomalous events as level two.”

Officially confirmed. Hearing this phrase, Prometheus’s expression instantly tightened.

Dionysus glanced at the two newcomers and began to explain.

”Once officially confirmed, incidents involving veil anomalies will no longer follow standard procedures, but will instead be directly handled as major emergencies.

”Hunters and Secret Practitioners holding authorized credentials will be automatically placed on a standby list for immediate deployment.

”And the maintenance cycle for registered seals will be shortened to two-thirds.”

”Two-thirds?”

”Seals that were originally reinforced once a year will now need to be reinforced again within eight months.”

Mr. Hutton’s face immediately popped into Richard’s mind.

Mr. Hutton didn’t actually just maintain the seal at Greenwood.

He regularly patrolled all the seals in Briston alongside the local Practitioners. This was also why he took two days off every month.

”This piece of intelligence,” Dionysus continued,

”confirms the deduction we discussed last time: the barrier is experiencing a systematic decline, and the rate of that decline is faster than previously estimated.”

Prometheus then spoke up.

”I have one as well.”

”Over the past two months, several ancient tombs at the southern end of the Black Soil River Basin have been systematically opened.”

His voice remained as hoarse as ever.

”It was done by an Empire archaeological team under the guise of cultural exchange. Their true goal was to transport the contents back to the Imperial Capital.”

”I can’t say exactly which tombs, but I do have a rough summary of the manifest for the artifacts being transported back.”

He fished a folded piece of paper out of his inner pocket.

”The summary isn’t complete, but a few items are worth noting...”

He unfolded the paper and read off a few items.

”A bronze altar, a set of bronze burial goods, twelve small jade statues, and a remarkably well-preserved Priest’s Scepter.”

”Is the scepter a supernatural item?” Nemesis asked, her curiosity piqued.

”Yes,” Prometheus said.

”A Priest’s Scepter from the Black Soil River Basin is always considered a high-grade supernatural item.”

”This one is currently stored in a closed warehouse at the Imperial Capital Museum, not in the public exhibition halls.”

He tucked the paper back into his inner pocket.

”That’s all I can share.”

Richard quietly took mental note of this.

He wondered if the Priest’s Scepter from the Black Soil River Basin could compare to the Fire Worship Temple Pillar.

Hecate turned her gaze toward Richard.

”Hermes.”

Richard pulled a small paper card from the hidden compartment under his chair.

”Something happened recently in the Northern Industrial Zone. In the foundation of an old factory on the west side of Manchester, there have been three consecutive reports of night-shift workers fainting over the past half-month.”

”Manchester again.” Prometheus seemed slightly surprised.

”No physical trauma, no signs of poisoning, and upon waking, they couldn’t remember what happened before they fainted.”

Richard continued.

”The local Branch Office sent someone to investigate. The preliminary judgment is that residual spirit entities in the foundation are passively infiltrating the ether level.

”But their treatment methods haven’t been very effective, and the spirit entities haven’t been completely purified.”

”Do you have an exact location?” Prometheus asked.

”West Manchester, the former site of the Pimlico Textile Mill.”

Richard answered.

This intelligence corroborated the earlier information about the raised warning level; the situation in the Northern Industrial Zone was indeed deteriorating.

Furthermore, it gave those present a specific, actionable project to intervene in.

If anyone wanted to earn a commission for clearing spirit entity residue, here was a ready-made job.

Both Prometheus and Dionysus made a note of this.

Nemesis then spoke up.

”I have one too.”

”A Hunter squad in the northern Gaelic Highlands encountered a black dog near Lake Ailin last month.”

A black dog. Richard’s gaze sharpened; he had read similar accounts.

This was a phenomenon native only to the Empire. Strictly speaking, it couldn’t even be considered an evil creature.

Every county had its own name for it. The east called it a ”Night Walker,” the north called it a ”Mourning Door,” and the western mining districts simply called it a ”Coal Dog.”

The black dog was neither undead nor a creature corrupted by ether.

It was closer to a natural phenomenon.

Those who saw a black dog would usually encounter a major disaster within three days to three months.

In extremely rare cases, a black dog would follow directly behind someone for an entire night.

This was the most ominous omen of all. Almost no one who had been followed for a full night lived past the end of the month.

But the black dog itself never attacked.

It never bit pedestrians, never barked, and never blocked the way.

It simply appeared, followed, and then silently vanished.

This harbinger of doom was so inauspicious that just hearing its name was enough to sour the moods of everyone present.