Chapter 148: Highland Summer Lodge

The old man finished speaking and set his teacup back on the table.

"Another pot."

"Right away."

The landlady brought up the second pot of tea, and Mr. Hutton shifted in his seat.

"You've likely all read that the world behind the veil and the material world bleed into each other through weak points."

"Evil creatures use these weak points to cross into the material world. By the same logic, if we want to enter, we must rely on them too."

Mr. Hutton took an unhurried sip of his tea.

"You can think of slipping through the veil like cave diving. The weak point is your fixed exit."

"But there's a difference. In a cave, if you lose your bearings and get lucky, you might stumble upon another exit or a temporary air pocket to catch your breath.

"But if you get lost behind the veil, you only sink deeper. You never come back."

A chill ran down the spines of everyone at the table.

"Alright, alright." Mrs. MacNeil clapped her hands.

"That concludes breakfast. Everyone, head back to your rooms and prep your gear."

"Assemble back at this table at nine. Captain Field will conduct a gear check before we depart."

At nine o'clock, the inn's long table had been cleared.

Captain Field pulled a chair back a couple of steps and sat at the head of the table.

"Alphabetical order. Edmund, you're first."

Edmund set his backpack on the table and laid out its contents layer by layer.

On top sat a small, black-bound book. The spine bore no title, just a simple cross.

It was a prayer book, something every cleric was required to carry.

Captain Field frowned but said nothing.

Next came a silver box, its lid stamped with a bowing lamb.

"Holy oil," Edmund explained. "Dabbing a bit onto an ether-polluted wound can halt the next stage of infection."

"The School of Theology's 'Hemostasis'?" Theodore asked curiously.

"To be precise, it's 'Contamination Halt'," Edmund corrected. "Bleeding is one thing, pollution is another."

"Not bad," Captain Field noted.

Next came a Silver Dagger, darts, and hemp rope, all steeped long-term in holy water.

They weren't supernatural items, but they served as excellent casting mediums.

"I also have bandages and emergency medical supplies." Edmund unrolled the final small cloth bundle.

Inside were basic wound-care tools: bandages, antiseptic, tweezers, suture needles, thread...

"The School of Theology trained you in suturing?" Captain Field asked.

"They did," Edmund said. "I was forced to learn on the fly while volunteering at a relief shelter two years ago."

"Good." Captain Field nodded. "Edmund, you pass."

Edmund repacked his bag and stepped aside.

Richard stepped forward and set his backpack on the table.

First was his Webley Military Revolver.

He opened the gun case, revealing a cylinder loaded with six standard lead bullets.

"Standard bullets," Richard said. "Five chambers loaded, with the first position left as an empty reserve."

"Do you have Enchanted Bullets?" Captain Field asked.

"Kept close at my waist, inside an Iron Box." Richard retrieved the small metal case from his coat's inner pocket.

He flipped it open. Six single-ring Enchanted Bullets lay neatly arranged against black cloth.

He also gave a brief rundown of his Stone Armor.

Next came the box of Silver Needles for the Moon Nail.

"You know to use seasoned needles. Seems whoever taught you knows the trade."

Captain Field picked one up. "Not bad. I practiced a similar Spell Formula back in the day."

He placed the needle back into the box. "How long is your Moon Nail formation time?"

"Two seconds."

"Distance?"

"About five meters."

"Plenty for the Newcomer stage."

"Yes."

Theodore's gear was far plainer than the first two sets.

An old-fashioned Flintlock, a bag of purifying salt, and a bundle of Ashcore Grass he had tied together haphazardly.

And a large, ugly Copper Compass that looked completely out of place in this era.

Richard glanced at it. The Copper Compass was actually a supernatural item.

Despite it being a supernatural item, he had no intention of using the opportunity to drain its ether.

It was clearly a lifesaver given to the boy by his mentor. Draining it dry would be tantamount to murder.

"Is that Copper Compass a supernatural item?" Captain Field had sensed it too.

"Mr. Pembroke gave it to me." Theodore nodded. "He said my Inspiration is decent, but my sense of direction is terrible."

"What do you mean by 'terrible'?"

"When I was little, I'd get lost just walking home from school."

A few people around the table couldn't help but chuckle.

"So Mr. Pembroke gave me this compass," Theodore continued.

"It enhances my Spirit Vision and locks my sense of direction. Even if I get lost in the shallow shores, I'll be able to find my way back."

"Barely passes," Captain Field nodded. "At least if you wander off, we won't have to hunt you down."

Maggie stepped up last.

Her gear consisted solely of a hunting knife, a bag of purifying salt, and a highly polished Oak Short Staff. Its head bore a ram's horn carving, much like the old shepherd's crook.

"The short staff is a casting medium for our family's Spell Formula," she said. "It's called the Azure-Green Ring."

"What does it do?" Sarah asked, looking interested.

"It lays down a small ether ring around me," Maggie explained.

"Once cast, an Infatuation Lamp won't notice me, and a Swamp Corpse won't look my way."

"...Invisibility?" Theodore's eyes widened.

"Not invisibility," Maggie corrected. "Invisibility is about not being seen. The Azure-Green Ring is about not being noticed."

"On the etheric plane, it makes me look like a tree. Those evil creatures don't care about trees."

"That's an interesting Spell Formula." Captain Field nodded. "What's the upper limit?"

"At the Newcomer stage, it maxes out at lower-grade evil creatures," Maggie said helplessly.

"Anything higher has its own judgment and can see right through it. Plus, the effect breaks the moment I initiate an attack."

"That's plenty," Captain Field said, satisfied. "Spoken like a true local."

Gear check complete, the captain retrieved four small brass whistles from a wooden box.

"These whistles are emergency beacons if you lose contact with the anchor point."

"Once blown, your fellow Practitioners can lock onto your position."

"Give it a blast, and we'll be there within thirty seconds."

Theodore scratched his head. "What if no one comes after thirty seconds?"

"If thirty seconds pass and no one shows up, it means we're fighting for our own lives. You'll just have to leave it to fate."

Captain Field handed the four whistles out.

Richard took his. The brass whistle was incredibly light, almost weightless in his palm.

He tied it around his neck with a thin string and tucked it under his shirt.

They ate lunch at eleven, and the carriage rolled out of Whitcom Village. The driver was the same old man from yesterday.

The patrol route naturally bypassed the main roads, relying instead on old dirt paths carved out by shepherds and donkeys.

The carriage jolted fiercely. With every rut they crossed, the axle beneath them groaned.

Six people squeezed shoulder-to-shoulder inside the cabin.

Captain Field sat by the door, a short-barreled pistol tucked into his boot.

A leather ammo pouch stamped with the Empire's military shield crest hung from his exposed belt.

Sarah sat opposite him, her double-barreled Hunting Rifle dismantled and stowed in two leather tubes.

The four Newcomers were crammed into the far end of the carriage.

Edmund stared at his prayer book, murmuring something under his breath.

Maggie pulled her cloak tight, burying her chin in the collar.

Theodore was busy testing his compass.

The needle swung wildly with every jolt of the carriage. Every so often, he raised his hand to level the compass, letting the needle settle before taking a reading.

Richard sat by the window.

The carriage traveled for about an hour from the edge of the village to the vicinity of their destination.

The driver pulled to a stop atop a slope.

"We're here."

They stepped out onto a gentle incline.

A little further ahead, low circular and semi-circular stone rings dotted the ground.

These were the ruins of temporary stone huts used by shepherds for summer grazing hundreds of years ago.

Most of the structures had long since collapsed. The most intact among them only had half a circular wall remaining.

The moment Richard stepped down, he felt that the ether field in this area was completely different from the one near Whitcom Village.

Generations of shepherds had lit their Mid-Summer Fires here, burning the same kind of wood in the exact same spot year after year.

A thin layer of ritual traces lingered in the soil.

This was likely what Mr. Hutton called a micro sacrificial scar.

Sarah slid the pieces from her leather tubes and assembled her Hunting Rifle in less than ten seconds.

"Get over here, all of you."

The four Newcomers trailed after her, walking toward the most intact half-circle stone hut.

Stopping at its edge, the female Hunter took a small piece of charred charcoal from her pouch.

"Stand still," she told them. "Take off your hats."

Sarah approached Edmund first, swiping a black mark just under the tip of his nose.

"What is this for?" Edmund didn't flinch.

"An old highland custom," Sarah said. "When you step into the near shores, your face can't be too clean."

"A clean face shines like a lamp. It attracts things."

She moved to Maggie next. Maggie had already tilted her face up.

"No need to explain. I understand."

"Your mother did this for you?" Sarah asked.

"She did."

When it was Theodore's turn, the stable boy nervously held his breath.

"Don't be nervous." The Hunter gave a rare smile as she applied the charcoal. "It's not like I'm smearing paint on you."

When she finished, all four sported a dark smudge on their faces.

"Now you all look like true highlanders," Captain Field said, walking over.

Sarah looked at him.

"Ready to begin?"

"Let's begin."

Captain Field walked to the center of the stone hut's ruined half-wall.

"You four, over here."

The four shuffled over and stood before him.

"The ruins of the Highland Summer Lodge serve as a stable weak point," Captain Field said.

"Stable means the 'door' here won't wander around. It opens in the exact same spot every time."

"Where is the door?" Theodore asked.

"Right under your feet," Captain Field said.

Theodore instinctively looked down at the grass beneath his boots.

"You can't see it." Captain Field snorted. "Looking down won't help."

The stable boy's face flushed red.

"Today, I'll teach you how to find the door, how to walk through it, and how to remember the way back."

"First, let me clarify: the ether concentration in the near shores is several times higher than in the material world."

He raised a hand, his palm facing inward.

"This leads to two direct results."

"First, anything related to ether is universally enhanced."

"Your Micro-circulation will run faster over there, and your ether reserves will replenish faster—roughly thirty to fifty percent faster than on this side in the material world. Spell Formulas will take less time to condense and pack much more of a punch."

"Second, anything unrelated to ether is universally suppressed."

"Whether it's the lead bullets of a Flintlock or the lead tips of a Webley, they're practically useless over there."

"Why?" Theodore asked immediately.

"The evil creatures in the near shores are fundamentally made of Ether Condensate," Captain Field explained.

"Shooting them with standard lead bullets is like jabbing a stick into a cloud of fog."

"The stick goes right through, but the fog remains."

"Enchanted Bullets and silver-lead bullets are effective," Sarah interjected. "Damage on the etheric level—that's what truly tears them apart."

Captain Field nodded. "Most of the time on field missions, we use silver-lead bullets. They cost far less than Enchanted Bullets.

"They might not match up to dedicated Enchanted Bullets, but they're vastly superior to regular rounds."

Richard silently weighed the cylinder tucked at his waist. He would have to stockpile more silver bullets in the future.