Chapter 199: The Gale Tradition

Richard's hand paused half an inch from the button of his inner pocket.

The true trick to descending the shaft was to turn oneself into a stone and pass through completely "passively."

Any "active" movement would only open a breach.

The iron cage finally reached the bottom. Lieutenant Colonel Ord's voice drifted in from outside.

"Gray Eyes, you're out first."

The lieutenant colonel made no attempt to use his real name.

Richard stiffened for half a second. He swept the lieutenant colonel with his Spirit Vision.

The man showed no anomalies.

Only after confirming this was the real Lieutenant Colonel Ord did he take his first step.

As he stepped out of the cage, everyone else inside let out a synchronized breath of relief.

The salt in everyone's mouths had nearly melted away.

Richard took a deep breath. The air in the tunnel was much more stable than inside the cage.

The nine stone rings lay just ahead. The Unresponsive Pit was right beneath their feet.

But at this moment, his fear of the unfathomably deep thing beneath his feet had eased.

No matter how powerful it was, it only wanted an entrance.

As long as he didn't provide one, it couldn't get in.

One end of the tunnel faced the shaft entrance; the other led deeper underground.

Lieutenant Colonel Ord and the first team were already waiting in the middle of the tunnel.

"Over here," the lieutenant colonel said, raising a hand.

The tunnel stretched about a hundred yards deeper, ending at a set of thick double iron doors.

Mr. Hutton stepped out from the group.

The old gentleman pulled a small engraving knife from his inner coat pocket.

He used the tip of the blade to gently pry at an inconspicuous groove on the inscription plate.

With a soft click from the center of the plate, the double iron doors swung outward.

The space beyond the doors contained the nine stone rings—nine concentric stone grooves spreading outward from a central point.

Together, these nine grooves formed a "manhole cover" on the etheric plane.

The Unresponsive Pit lay directly beneath them, buried under thirty feet of poured concrete and earth, then locked down by these nine stone rings.

Lieutenant Colonel Ord began assigning positions.

"Take your positions."

Richard walked over to Mr. Hutton, stopping where a few halos of light happened to envelop him.

Mr. Hutton had already opened two small cases.

The first held engraving knives and chisels of various sizes.

The second contained several grayish-white wax blocks wrapped in oilcloth, a few small pouches of silver powder, and a Silver Jug of holy water.

The old gentleman glanced up at Richard.

"The camera."

Richard pulled the Colton 120—a gift from his senior sister—out of his satchel.

"Photograph them group by group as I restore them."

"Understood."

Richard raised the camera and aimed it at the first groove.

Out on the perimeter, Lieutenant Colonel Ord planted his feet.

He took a small Pocket Watch from his inner coat pocket and pressed the button on its side.

"Begin."

The old gentleman and two Secret practitioners handled the re-engraving and repairs, while Mrs. MacNeil took charge of the activation.

The medium took a small Silver Jug from her suitcase and tipped it.

A thin stream of holy water flowed from the spout, running along the freshly restored inscriptions in the first groove.

Wherever the water flowed, the wax-filled carvings lit up section by section.

The entire First Ring illuminated in sequence, finally connecting into a closed loop of light.

"First Ring activated," Mrs. MacNeil said, returning the Silver Jug to her suitcase.

"First Ring is set," Lieutenant Colonel Ord said, clicking his Pocket Watch again.

"Proceed to the Second Ring, per standard protocol."

The Second Ring, Third Ring, and Fourth Ring each took at least twenty minutes to restore and activate.

By the time they reached the Fourth Ring, Richard had swapped out several rolls of film.

The atmosphere in the cavern slowly shifted from its initial tension into a rhythmic, steady workflow.

The six patrol members were scattered around the outer perimeter, each keeping a vigilant watch over their assigned sector.

Wentworth kept his eyes locked on the edge of the cavern, where a hidden passage led further into the depths.

In the innermost circle, Mr. Hutton's pace of engraving remained remarkably steady.

Halfway through the Fourth Ring, Richard felt an incredibly faint vibration through the floor.

Something was seeping upward from the unfathomable depths beneath the nine stone rings.

His Inspiration flared in warning.

"...Old scholar, what's going on?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

Mr. Hutton was busy re-engraving the seventh set of inscriptions on the Fourth Ring.

The old gentleman did not look up.

"It's normal. Loosening the rings weakens the seal's overall operation, allowing the 'calls' from the deep to seep up through the cracks."

"Just stay in the innermost circle and ignore it."

"...Understood."

Richard raised his camera again.

Mr. Hutton finished restoring the last set of inscriptions on the Fourth Ring.

"Activate it." He stood up, pressing a hand to his lower back.

After crouching and standing dozens of times today, the old gentleman was nearing his physical limit.

Just as the Fourth Ring's loop of light began to close...

Out on the perimeter, the lieutenant colonel suddenly raised his right hand.

"All teams, prepare for combat."

The three members of the first team immediately readied their weapons.

The team leader hefted a modified rifle, his left hand gripping the handguard beneath the barrel.

Pony clutched a Silver Dagger and a Flintlock, his posture visibly tenser than before.

Richard swept his Concealed Spirit Vision toward the hidden passage.

The ether concentration at the entrance was skyrocketing.

He could clearly see plumes of grayish-white ether fog rolling out of the tunnel.

Something was hiding within the mist.

Lacking physical forms, the entities were driven by some will, assembling themselves within the fog.

The first fog shadow rushed out of the passage in dead silence.

It wasn't fast, but its trajectory was completely unhesitating, making a beeline straight for Pony.

"Pony, get down!" the leader of the second team barked.

Pony dropped into a crouch.

The fog shadow rushed right over Pony's position, only to be struck by the second team leader's shot.

The Silver-Lead Bullet released a tiny halo of silver light as it punched through the apparition.

The light flashed, and the entire fog shadow dissipated right above the boy's head.

"Clear." The second team leader chambered another round.

Pony was still crouched on the ground.

"Get up. Watch your back."

Pony scrambled to his feet, pale from the close call.

A second, third, and fourth fog shadow billowed from the entrance, each picking a target.

Three headed toward the first team.

Their leader dodged to the side, raised his Hunting Rifle, and pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

The slug carved a short arc through the air, slamming into the first fog shadow.

Struck by the projectile, the mist dispersed with a sharp hiss.

The second shadow immediately took its place.

Riding his momentum, the leader swung his rifle stock down hard.

Embedded with a dark silver gemstone, the stock flared with light, cleaving the second shadow out of the air.

The third was handled by a male team member dual-wielding Silver Daggers.

The man flung the Silver Dagger in his right hand into the air.

Pulled by an invisible thread, the Silver Dagger flew out on its own, striking the third shadow right in its core.

Struck by the blade, this cloud of mist vanished the cleanest of them all.

The Silver Dagger clattered to the floor. The man scooped it up, readying it once more.

Richard inspected the Silver Dagger with his Spirit Vision.

An extremely fine silver thread was embedded in its handle, carrying a concealed Spell Formula.

The entire sequence of movements was perfectly fluid; they had an established response protocol for this.

These Practitioner-tier Hunters had been polished by over a decade of fieldwork.

The battle on the perimeter lasted just over a minute.

In that time, over a dozen fog shadows poured from the hidden passage.

Each of the six patrolmen eliminated at least one.

Wentworth joined the fray as well. Drawing twin blades from beneath his coat, he charged at the seventh shadow.

His speed was so great that Richard could barely track him.

Inscriptions flared on the hilts, carving searing, crimson trails through the air.

The moment the blades connected, the fog shadow exploded outward from its center.

His second blade immediately followed through, slicing into the eighth shadow.

Sheathing both blades at his sides, Wentworth came to a halt.

His breathing was heavy, his shoulders heaving slightly as his brief ether burst ended.

Following the firefight on the perimeter, the surge of fog shadows visibly tapered off.

"Is... is another wave coming?" Pony whispered to his leader.

"Hard to say." The second team leader raised his rifle again. "Stay close and keep your eyes on the entrance."

"Yes, sir."

Out on the perimeter, a few more fog shadows rolled out of the passage.

This time, the final one moved in a strange trajectory.

Instead of picking the closest target like its peers, it bypassed them.

It curved sharply, slipping right between the two patrol teams.

When Pony dropped down and scrambled back up, his Breathing rhythm had briefly faltered.

To the fog shadow, that momentary disruption was a glaring beacon.

The shadow lunged straight for him.

"Pony!" the second team leader realized it a beat too late.

Hearing the shout, Pony reflexively raised his Flintlock.

But the cloud of mist was already inches from the boy's face.

Richard glanced at Mrs. MacNeil. The medium was standing barely ten feet from Pony.

But she didn't make a move to help; she merely shook her head.

On the other side, Lieutenant Colonel Ord raised his iron hand.

Through his Spirit Vision, Richard saw the rivets embedded in the joints of the Steel Prosthetic Arm flare with light.

From the shoulder down to the fingertips, the entire prosthetic was wreathed in razor-thin, white air currents.

It was a projectile of air, compressed to the absolute limit.

Lieutenant Colonel Ord lightly flicked his index finger, firing the sphere of compressed air.

The bullet of air carved a minuscule arc, bypassed the patrolmen on the perimeter, and shot straight toward the shadow in front of Pony.

The blast struck the shadow's core.

"Thwump!"

An invisible fist shattered the mist in midair.

Pony stumbled backward, caught by his team leader.

"Haa..." He gasped for air, still deathly pale.

"Stand up," the second team leader said, patting his back. "Steady. Hold your ground."

"Okay." Pony nodded hard.

Lieutenant Colonel Ord lowered his right hand, the white air currents fading from his Steel Prosthetic Arm.

"Sweep the area. Check the entrance."

The first and second teams moved toward the passage.

Mr. Hutton murmured an explanation beside Richard.

"That is the blessing of selecting the Gale tradition."

"The Gale?"

"A minor tradition, but highly aggressive."

"Its lineage stems from Highland Celtic rituals. In essence, it uses wind pressure to launch attacks."

"Wind itself has no weight, but air compressed to the absolute limit holds enough force to kill."

"Hunters of the Gale tradition do not need physical weapons. They are the weapons themselves."

"The silver rivets embedded in the colonel's prosthetic are his own signature artifact."

"All right." Mr. Hutton gave Richard's shoulder a light squeeze.

"Since he stepped in, it means this wave of turbulence is over."

"Just a standard riot during the window period. We just deal with them."

The old gentleman turned his gaze back to the innermost circle.

"According to schedule, it's time to loosen the Fifth Ring."

Richard pulled his gaze away from the lieutenant colonel.

The patrolmen on the perimeter were already inspecting the passage entrance.

The Silver Dagger-wielding man from the first team peered into the dark tunnel and flashed a hand signal to Ord.

"No new surges for now."

"Clean up. Prepare for the Fifth Ring," Lieutenant Colonel Ord ordered.

The atmosphere inside the cavern relaxed once more.

Wentworth sheathed his Enchanted Twin Blades.

"Burned through some stamina, but it won't affect much. I can handle the rest of today's workload."

"Mhm," Ord grunted in acknowledgment.

The second team leader pulled a small Silver Jug from his satchel and held it to Pony's lips.

"Take a few sips. Settle your nerves."

Pony took the Silver Jug, swallowed a mouthful, and slowly regained some color.

"You good?" his leader asked.

"Yeah." Pony nodded. "It was just that split second..."

"Happens to everyone their first time," the leader said, taking the Silver Jug back. "You'll get used to it with practice."

"Yes, sir."

Beside Richard, Mr. Hutton spoke in a low voice.

"This year's surge was relatively normal."

"Last year, six lower evil creatures and one mid-tier evil creature broke out. We lost a member then, which is why Pony was brought in to fill the vacancy this year."

"Don't just stand there. It's time for the Fifth Ring."

"Understood."

Richard raised the camera once more.

Lieutenant Colonel Ord stood his ground on the perimeter, not fully relaxing.

His eyes swept toward the edges of the cavern.