“Whether we can analyze it or not isn't important, as long as it works.”
Elias stared at the Waning Moon Key.
The silver pendant was still suspended in Jack's palm, the illusory moonlight within the gap slowly flowing.
Previously, it had looked like an ancestral piece of junk in disrepair.
Now, it finally had some of the grandeur a god-tier artifact deserved.
“Open one,”
Elias urged.
“No,”
Jack refused immediately.
He answered without a shred of hesitation.
The anticipation on Elias's face froze.
“Why?”
“Because I don't know where it leads.”
“You're the one opening the door, and you don't know where it leads?”
Elias asked back in disbelief.
Jack closed his eyes, once again feeling the massive spell structure within his Rational Circuit.
“The Waning Moon Key only gave me the ability to connect two spaces.”
“I can open the door, but I can't decide where the other end is.”
Elias frowned.
“Then who decides?”
“Probably the 【Moon Gate】 itself.”
“Are you kidding me, kid?”
Elias looked at him, somewhat speechless.
“Even a door has more of a mind of its own than you do.”
Jack ignored his sarcasm.
His expression was very serious right now.
“It could lead to Hastings Port.”
“Or it could lead to the Inferno, or the depths of the spirit world.”
“If there's a powerful creature behind the door, we might not even have time to close it.”
The sea breeze blew between the two of them.
Elias's hand, which had been eager to try just a moment ago, silently drew back a bit from the Waning Moon Key.
He did want to experience spatial teleportation.
But he didn't want to open a door only to be sent straight to his next life.
If some spirit world monster was standing on the other side, staring at them while they stared back...
That wouldn't be a trip; that would be free delivery on a takeout order.
“Tsk, tsk.”
Elias looked away, slightly annoyed.
At times like this, he couldn't help but envy a certain chubby blue cat.
His door went wherever he wanted it to go.
He never had to worry that opening it would reveal the Inferno or some deity's bedroom.
Both were doors.
Why was the difference between them so vast?
“Fine.”
After a long moment, Elias accepted reality.
“Then let's first figure out how to make the door lead to our desired destination.”
The two of them returned to the cottage with the Waning Moon Key.
The Sacred Candle and frying pan on the table had only recently been cleared away, but they were quickly replaced by stacks of old books.
These books were all brought out by Jack from the Sorenstein family's underground library.
At the time, he was busy running for his life, so he had grabbed them entirely at random.
Spatial spells.
Spirit world navigation.
Ritual studies.
Outer ocean charts.
Among them was even a ledger for the repair of the Sorenstein family's collection of books over generations.
Elias flipped through a few pages and found that, besides noting who repaired which book, it also detailed the repair costs.
“What's the point of this one?”
Jack glanced at it.
“It proves my family used to be very rich, but now we're only left with bills.”
Great.
An educational chronicle of family decline.
The two of them gathered around the wooden table and began searching.
The flame of the oil lamp flickered gently.
Having been stored underground for many years, the pages of the old books carried moisture and a faint musty smell.
With every turn, fine dust drifted out from the spines.
Elias soon sneezed.
“The knowledge of the aristocratic class is quite aggressive!”
“These books used to be maintained by dedicated staff,”
Jack said, looking down to turn a page.
“And right now, I need someone to specially pamper my nose,”
Elias muttered.
More than half the night passed.
The tabletop had turned into a miniature disaster zone.
Open books were piled on top of each other, and scribbled keywords were scattered next to the oil lamp.
An old Moon Bay sea chart was pinned beneath the pile of books, revealing only half a cape.
Elias leaned back in his chair, his eyes already starting to ache.
He finally understood now why mystical knowledge was always associated with madness.
Anyone who read these old books—devoid of punctuation and with handwriting like crawling seaweed—for hours on end wouldn't remain completely sane.
Just as Elias was about to suggest a break, Jack suddenly stopped turning pages.
“Found it.”
Elias instantly sat up straight.
“What is it?”
Jack moved a heavy, old book under the oil lamp.
Most of the silver foil lettering on the cover had peeled off, leaving only a few legible words.
《Identification of Spiritual Routes in the Western Outer Ocean》
Jack carefully flipped to a later chapter, his finger resting on a circular ritual diagram.
“【Mist Navigation Port-Return Ritual】.”
“That's not for targeting teleportation spells,”
Elias frowned and questioned.
Jack explained:
“It was originally used when ships lost their way at sea.”
“When the compass, constellations, and sea charts are all interfered with, the navigator can use items left behind by the port and a nautical chart to create a spiritual route that continuously points toward the target port.”
Elias leaned in to take a look.
The ritual diagram depicted sea charts, a compass, and several lines converging toward the center.
It really did look like it was forcibly guiding a bunch of lost things.
“Oh?”
His eyes lit up.
“The 【Moon Gate】 has the power to connect spaces; it just lacks direction.”
Jack pointed to the center of the ritual.
“If all spiritual vectors around us point toward Hastings Port when the spell is cast, it might open along this route.”
Elias stared at the page.
“Theoretically?”
“Theoretically,”
Jack nodded.
“I'm sure those three words often appear alongside accident reports.”
Mr. Rockland, sitting beside him, curled his lips.
But sarcasm aside.
At least this was more reliable than opening a door with eyes closed.
Although the progress wasn't huge, it couldn't be said there was none.
If this ritual could actually succeed, the significance went far beyond just visiting Hastings Port.
In the past, if he wanted to leave the island, he had to wait for a shift change or take the Nightgull.
When the sea conditions were bad, he had to stand on the pier and brave the wind.
Now, as long as he opened a door, a distance of twenty nautical miles could perhaps be crossed in a single step.
If nothing else, it would save a lot of commute time.
The two of them immediately began preparing the ritual materials.
Elias fished a supply manifest out of the lighthouse's old ledgers.
The paper was already yellowed, but the stamp left by the Hastings Port harbor authority was still visible in the bottom right corner.
This manifest had traveled to the island with the supply ship from the port.
Whether on a physical or spiritual level, it had a clear connection to Hastings Port.
The Moon Bay sea chart was also spread out again.
The whale oil lamp was moved to the edge of the table, its wick trimmed and fuel replenished.
Finally, there was the spiritual compass used for calibrating courses in the lighthouse.
The copper casing had many scratches.
But the needle remained sensitive.
Elias had just finished preparing everything when he noticed Jack was still staring at the ritual instructions, his frown deepening.
“Is there still a problem?”
“There is one.”
Jack pointed to the eye of the array.
“Once the ritual begins, the caster must remain inside the eye of the array at all times to maintain the connection between the compass and the port.”
“What happens if you stop?”
“The course vanishes,”
Jack replied.
“The 【Moon Gate】 might lose its target.”
“Then we just have one person maintain it,”
Elias said.
“Yes,”
Jack nodded, “But the 【Moon Gate】 is attached to my Rational Circuit, and the port-return ritual must also be driven by me.”
Elias understood.
“So only I can go through?”
“Right.”
The cottage fell silent for a moment.
Elias looked down at the ritual diagram on the page.
In other words, Jack was responsible for staying on the island to open the door and navigate.
While he was responsible for stepping in first to personally verify if this jerry-rigged plan actually worked.
Meaning Jack handled the theory, and he handled the accident.
“Then don't go getting me killed,”
Elias said.
“If I die, your heirloom flintlock pistol is gone too.”
Jack's face darkened upon hearing this.
“Of course!”
“I wouldn't joke about my family's heirloom.”
Elias waited for a moment.
The second half of the sentence never came.
“Well,”
“I thought you were going to say you wouldn't joke with my life.”
Jack looked at him seriously.
“Don't think of it that way.”
“At least you're ranked right below our family heirlooms.”
“I'm so touched,”
Elias said dryly.
Considering Jack had wanted to inherit his run-down cottage not long ago, this ranking might still have room to drop.
“Alright,”
Elias tucked the supply manifest into the book and organized the necessary items one by one.
“Let's go outside and try opening the door.”
“Finally, I can slack off during work hours.”
He felt a little excited just thinking about it.
He took out the Spy's Derby Hat from the Gluttonous Stomach and casually brushed away non-existent dust from the brim.
If they really could reach Hastings Port, he naturally couldn't wander around with Elias's face.
The identity of Mr. Wayne had already been seen by quite a few people.
It would be best to use a new face this time.
And a new name.
Elias walked outside holding the hat, stretching comfortably.
In just that short span of time, he had already thought of his new alias.
It would be John Constantine.
Rate on N.U.
