With some time left before the summer break, Margarita decided to take care of some loose ends first.
Like the spatial anchor at the quarry.
Today, the application for the equipment had finally been approved. Constance had originally intended for Irene and Erica to handle the matter themselves, but since it might involve the Sacrosanct Circle, Margarita felt she should go along. Although Instructor Crow had told her not to push herself so hard, this was a matter of convenience, so she decided to tag along.
The detector they had been assigned was heavier than Irene had expected. The device was essentially a black cube equipped with a crystal array. It wasn't large, about the size of something that could be held in one hand. Five crystals were arranged on the front of the box, each corresponding to a higher level of detection. According to Irene's description, all five crystals would light up simultaneously when they approached the anchor.
Since Irene was busy preparing potions, the task of calibrating the instrument fell to Erica.
“...Which year's textbook are you looking at? You're calibrating it all wrong.”
“Did you not pay attention in alchemy class at all? The crystal is about to overload.”
“Stop your hands from shaking. Look at the instrument. Why are you looking at me?”
...
As soon as it came to alchemical instruments, the usually easygoing Irene became remarkably strict. She scared Erica so much that she barely dared to breathe. In the end, Irene chose to prepare the potions on the spot and helped Erica adjust the instrument first.
Alchemy really is a hierarchy of skill...
...
The three of them set out from the East Gate and headed toward the quarry. Erica walked at the front, a faint glimmer of mana constantly shining in her hand.
“No unusual mana fluctuations within a three-hundred-meter radius.”
Oho. The soft and gentle Erica from before was gone; this was the business-first Erica.
“Erica.” Margarita took two quick steps to catch up to her. “Maintaining Mana Perception like that constantly must be quite a drain, right?”
“It’s fine.” Erica didn’t even turn her head. “The mana reserves of a high-tier elemental mage are sufficient to maintain basic perception for over eight hours. I’ve currently used only twenty percent.”
“I’m not talking about mana.” Margarita smiled. “I mean, isn't it exhausting to stay focused for so long?”
Erica’s pace faltered for a moment. She glanced at Margarita, a trace of surprise flashing in her deep purple eyes before she could hide it. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but in the end, she just looked away and continued walking.
“I’m used to it.”
Irene let out a tsk from the side, pulled out the detector for a quick glance, then shoved it back in. Finally, she spared Erica a look.
The entrance to the quarry was halfway up the hill. A rusted iron gate hung crookedly from a stone frame. Irene used a potion to corrode the chain and pushed the gate open. A draft poured out from inside, carrying a damp scent mixed with rust and moss.
Irene held the detector up to the mine shaft entrance, and the first crystal lit up.
“We have a reaction.” She pulled the instrument back. “It’s the most basic level. The anchor should be deeper in.”
“Wait,” Erica said suddenly. “Someone has entered the perception range. An Advanced Swordsman with Battle Qi fluctuations.”
Margarita immediately moved behind the two girls for protection, her voice devoid of any inflection. “Whoa, I’m just a defenseless maiden. You two have to protect me, okay?”
“...” The other two were speechless.
The surroundings remained silent for a moment until Margarita finally broke it.
“Valen,” she said. “Come out. There are a lot of bugs in the bushes.”
The shrubbery stayed quiet for a bit. Then, the withered branches were pushed aside, and Valen stepped out, his face full of the embarrassment of being caught.
“During training yesterday, the professor mentioned you guys applied for a permit to investigate this quarry,” Valen said, scratching the back of his head. “I used to come here with my grandfather when I was a kid.”
The three of them didn't speak, simply watching him.
“...How did you know it was me?” Valen looked at Margarita.
Margarita reached out and tapped the iron sign on the door, revealing the emblem beneath the dust—a wolf stepping on an olive branch.
“If it were anyone from the Sacrosanct Circle, they would have attacked already. You’re the only person in the academy with a connection to this place.”
“No,” Valen blinked, startled. “What 'Circle' did you say?”
“Do you know what happened with your grandfather?” Margarita asked suddenly.
Valen’s brow furrowed. “What about him?”
“Ten years ago, your family supplied a batch of longswords to the Northern Frontier Watchtower. There was an issue with the iron ore used for the blades. The watchtower guards fought the Demon Race for an hour, and more than half the swords broke.” Margarita spoke slowly, enunciating every word clearly. “More than forty guards died. Your family paid a fine, switched to producing civilian ironware, and the quarry was abandoned.”
Valen’s expression changed.
He had always known something like that had happened, but he had never associated it with the Sacrosanct Circle.
“My grandfather was the one who handled that batch of swords,” Valen began, his voice much lower than before. “He died of an illness the following year. My family never went into detail about those swords. I asked my father once, and he said it was an issue with the quality of the iron ore. They paid the fine to settle it, and he wouldn't say anything else.”
He paused.
“The Sacrosanct Circle... I’ve heard of them. The organization that was declared illegal ten years ago. Is that what you’re investigating?”
“You weren't aware of your grandfather's involvement?” Margarita asked.
Valen didn’t answer immediately. He turned his head to glance at the entrance of the mine, then looked back at Irene and Erica. His expression was exactly the same as when Margarita had asked him about his swordsmanship style outside the training grounds—guarded.
“I wasn't aware,” he said. “But my father goes to the North every winter. He says it’s to visit a grave, but he never lets me go with him.”
Margarita watched him, falling silent for a few seconds. This guy truly didn't know. He was telling the truth; his family was clearly hiding something from him, and his personality made him too embarrassed to press for answers.
“You can follow us in,” Margarita said, tilting her head. “But if you try anything, Erica will nail you to the mine wall.”
Erica cooperatively raised a finger, and a small cluster of ice shards coalesced at her fingertip. Valen glanced at her, said nothing, and stepped forward to join the group.
“Consultant,” Erica leaned in close to Margarita and whispered, “besides him, there’s one more.”
Margarita let out a soft chuckle. “Don't worry about the extra one.”
Erica followed behind Margarita with a confused expression. The entrance to the mine shaft was very narrow, only becoming wider after they had walked down about a dozen steps. The rock ceiling above was low enough that they could touch it by raising their hands. Irene held the detector as she led the way forward, and several crystals lit up in succession.
“The reaction is getting stronger,” she said. “The anchor is very close.”
The mine shaft began to fork. The pickaxe marks on the stone walls became rougher, and in some places, they could still see the tools left behind by miners years ago and abandoned minecarts. Valen walked in silence, his gaze constantly scanning the marks on the walls and the ground.
At the end of the main shaft was a collapsed stone wall. Rubble covered most of the wall, but through the gaps, they could see a larger space beyond, with a faint light peeking through. Irene threw out an alchemy flask, and a grey mist enveloped the rubble. Seconds later, the stones crumbled into fine debris, clearing a hole large enough for one person to pass through.
The four of them crawled through one by one.
Behind the stone wall was a naturally formed grotto. The ceiling was high, with stalactites hanging down and reflecting a wet glint under the light of the detector's crystals. In the center of the grotto's floor was a series of neat, circular grooves carved into the ground, filled with dense writing.
The anchor.
Irene crouched down, touched the runes at the edge of the grooves with her fingertip, and frowned.
“This isn't an ordinary spatial anchor.” She stood up and brushed the dust off her hands. “The runes in the grooves are bidirectional. They can allow the Demon Race to pass through from the other end, or they can send someone from this end to the other.”
“Is it one-way or two-way right now?” Erica asked.
“Currently one-way.” Irene pulled out several flasks of potions and uncorked them. “But I need to confirm the status of the anchor on the other end. If the other side has the same runes, this passage could be opened from that side at any time.”
Erica walked over to the side of the grooves, crouched down, and carefully examined the runes. She tilted her head, her deep purple eyes filled with a bit of confusion.
“This writing...” She extended her finger, tracing the outline of a rune in the air. “It looks like some kind of ancient language, but I don't recognize it. There are no mana fluctuations, and there are no elemental remnants within the carvings.”
Margarita stood at the edge of the grooves. As her gaze fell upon that spot, her brow furrowed.
All she could see were patches of pixelated mosaics—this had to be the work of the Star-Spun Stone, preventing her from seeing them.
“Joshua,” she murmured.
“I’m here.” To the shock of the others, Joshua crawled in through the hole and stood beside Margarita. “What is it?”
“Help me look at that writing,” Margarita said, pointing. “I don’t feel very well, and I don't want to stare at it.”
Joshua glanced at her, walked over to the edge of the grooves, and carefully circled the runes before returning. “There are several repeating symbols: an olive branch, a circle, and a lot of words I don't recognize,” he said. “They look very similar to the markings of the Sacrosanct Circle.”
Margarita nodded, and then she performed an action that surprised everyone present.
She walked behind Joshua, rested her forehead against his back, and lightly gripped both sides of his coat with her hands.
Joshua froze completely.
“Don't move,” Margarita’s voice was muffled against the fabric of his back. “I’ll ask you questions like this, and you just look and tell me.”
She needed Joshua to be her eyes. She couldn't see the text, but she couldn't explain that to everyone either, so this was the only way.
Besides... it was a little embarrassing.
Joshua’s back was as straight as a board. He could feel Margarita’s forehead pressed against his back, her hair brushing against the nape of his neck, making it feel a bit itchy. He looked down at his hands, not knowing where to put them, and eventually just let them hang at his sides, his fingers clutching the seams of his trousers.
“How many circles of runes are there?” Margarita asked.
“Three,” Joshua’s voice was a bit tight. “The outermost circle is an olive branch pattern. The middle circle is alternating eyes and rings. The innermost circle... contains some short sentences. I can’t read them, but a few words look like names.”
“Names?”
“‘Wolfram,’ ‘Diestwald,’ ‘Kleinfeld.’” Joshua paused as he read them out. “What are these?”
Sacrosanct Circle, it really is you.
From the side, Irene’s gaze darted ambiguously between the two of them, but her hands never stopped mixing the potions. She nudged Erica with her elbow. “Hey, hey, look at those two.”
“Look at what?”
“The Consultant has her head buried in Joshua’s back.” Irene’s voice couldn't suppress her excitement. “She’s usually all smiles with everyone, but with Joshua, she’s either mean to him or leans on him. This is clearly...”
“Clearly what?”
“Clearly trust!” Irene almost lost control of her volume. “Don’t you think so? The way she looks at Joshua is completely different from how she looks at us.”
It certainly is different, Erica thought. However, she was more concerned about one thing: why couldn't the Consultant look at the writing herself? To her knowledge, those characters were clearly just ordinary ancient script.
She noted the question in her heart but did not speak it aloud.
...
Irene poured the prepared potion onto the anchor. The anchor vibrated for a moment, and a layer of white film emerged to shroud it.
“It’s sealed, but to resolve it completely, we still need to find the other end of the anchor.” She stowed the glass bottle into her bag and nodded toward Margarita.
Margarita returned a smile and then turned her gaze toward Valen. Valen was standing near the cave entrance, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression very complex. He hadn’t said much since entering the cave, but Margarita noticed that he had spent longer staring at those runes than anyone else.
“If you want to ask something, just ask,” Margarita said.
Valen was silent for a while. “What does it mean, having three families listed together on the same stone?”
“I don’t know,” Margarita said. “But I’ll keep investigating. If you want to help—”
“I’ll think about it,” Valen interrupted her, turning to crawl out of the hole.
Margarita watched his silhouette disappear into the mine shaft and said nothing more.
It was still early by the time they headed back. Irene and Erica walked ahead, with Irene writing sealing records in her notebook as she walked, and Erica still maintaining her Mana Perception. Joshua walked beside Margarita, his pace deliberately slowed.
Margarita kept her head down, staring at the gravel path beneath her feet, her mind turning over two things.
The first was what exactly the Star-Spun Stone was guarding against.
The second was that the swimsuit chapter she had been looking forward to was coming up soon. Lovell, Irene, Erica... and herself?
As she thought of this, her brow suddenly furrowed, and she reached out to punch Joshua once.
Dammit, you’re getting off way too lucky, you brat.
Rate on N.U.
