Chapter 297: Weighing

Richard waited until the gray-robed messenger left, then laid out his haul item by item on the table.

That pinch of Silent Fern Spores, along with a palm-sized scrap of Flag Fabric.

The cursed objects from Heracles: the copper bell, the broken blade, and the cracked clay doll.

He then took out his divination tools.

Tarot Cards, a Copper Dish, Runestones, and a small half-bottle of Starfall Sand.

He needed to divine every single item he had traded for tonight, one by one.

Three cursed objects, one piece of Flag Fabric, and the Silent Fern Spores...

Most of them were of unknown origin and tainted with resentment.

He placed the scrap of Flag Fabric squarely in the center of the table.

Richard shuffled the Tarot Cards. The still waters unfurled by [Perception: Calm Observation] allowed him to feel the edge of every card even with his eyes closed.

He focused on his question: were there any risks to this scrap of Flag Fabric?

Finished shuffling, he drew three cards and laid them face down beside the cloth.

He flipped the first card.

[Eight of Swords, Reversed]

A blindfolded figure bound by ropes, surrounded by a prison of swords.

Reversed—the ropes were loosened.

Richard silently interpreted the imagery.

The bindings symbolized something trapped.

The reversal meant release and breaking free.

The lingering resentments sealed within the Flag Fabric were still trapped, but they were trying to break free. He would need to add a seal to suppress them.

He flipped the second card.

[The Moon, Reversed]

Reversed—the waters receded, exposing what lay hidden beneath.

Richard stared at the card for a moment.

What was hidden would be revealed.

The Moon, Reversed meant deception dissipating, but also hidden dangers surfacing.

This scrap of Flag Fabric seemed docile right now, but it might reveal something else later on.

He flipped the third card.

[Temperance - Upright]

An angel pouring water back and forth between two chalices, perfectly balanced.

Richard breathed a sigh of relief. Right now, he preferred seeing Temperance over the Star Card.

As long as he maintained a measured approach and sealed the Flag Fabric properly, no major disasters would arise.

He packed the Flag Fabric away separately and carved a reinforcing seal onto the surface of its box.

He then proceeded to divine the remaining items one by one.

That layer of still water remained entirely placid, without any ripples probing back at him.

By the end of his readings, he had found no looming dangers.

With a raise of his hand, Richard manifested the bronze Mask of Hermes.

Golden wings and twin serpents, cast with exquisite detail.

At its core, the mask was a structured ether construct—a Spell Formula.

And since it was a Spell Formula, it had to have a specific operational flow.

He reeled his Inspiration in until it was incredibly faint, reading inward along the layer of ether on the mask's surface.

The first layer was easy to read; the two golden wings corresponded to communication.

Hermes ran errands for the gods, and this thread guided the transmission of words across distances.

The next layer inward was the covenant of oaths.

Deeper still, the entwined twin serpents represented a two-way passage.

Richard read with absolute focus.

When he reached the fourth layer, that familiar dull ache surged up the back of his head.

He withdrew his Inspiration, taking a moment to soothe the throbbing pressure creeping through his skull.

Simply reading it wouldn't be enough. Richard rested the mask in his palm.

He mentally suppressed the output to the absolute minimum, allowing the sliver of power within the mask to activate just a tiny bit.

He wanted to feel exactly how the concept of a divine name flowed toward him.

When it entered, the change was incredibly subtle.

The tip of his tongue felt it first.

An urge to speak more, to persuade someone of something, to break down logic and explain it to others.

This was the God of Eloquence.

Then came the soles of his feet. A profound restlessness seized him, an intense aversion to staying in one place.

He wanted to go elsewhere, to cross thresholds, to hit the road.

This was the God of Travelers, the Crosser of Boundaries.

Both impulses were faint, yet they threatened to sweep him away if he let his guard down for even a second.

Richard hurriedly removed the mask from his palm, and the sliver of power withdrew with it.

He tried placing the mask into the selection frame of [Shadow Inversion].

The Panel delivered its verdict:

[This item does not meet the conditions for reversal. Reason: Spell Formula has not been mastered.]

He stared at the line of text, more or less understanding the logic.

[Shadow Inversion] reversed Spell Formulas he had already mastered.

He had thoroughly practiced Stone Armor and Moon Nail, which was why he could flip them.

But he hadn't even worn this mask once.

Strictly speaking, he would have to wear it and completely comprehend its usage before he could claim to have mastered it.

The logic was perfectly clear, so Richard didn't feel disappointed.

But wearing it was out of the question; he had already experienced both of its prices firsthand.

Richard's gaze drifted down to the shadow at his feet.

An idea suddenly sprang to mind.

The shadow was a part of him. The ability he gained after reaching Signature was precisely the power to ferry this shadow.

What if he had his shadow wear the mask?

If the shadow wore it, could he bypass the price by studying the mask through the shadow?

With a thought, Richard willed the shadow to peel away from the wall and stand before the table, then handed it the bronze mask.

The shadow reached out with two pitch-black arms, took the mask, and pressed it against its featureless face.

The moment the mask made contact, a chill swept through Richard's body.

The shadow's silhouette began to shudder violently.

Its edges frayed and scattered outward, as if something were tearing it apart from the inside.

Startled, Richard immediately helped the shadow yank the mask off its face.

The moment the mask left, the shadow's silhouette slowly stabilized, though it had visibly faded a shade.

Thankfully, it had only been a tentative attempt; he hadn't let the shadow truly bear the mask's power.

A wave of lingering fear washed over him. Had he delayed for even two more seconds, the shadow would have dissipated on the spot, leaving him—the main body—weakened for at least a few days.

Using [Breathing: Healing], Richard draped a warm breath over the shadow.

The frayed, scattered edges of the shadow were ironed smooth, one by one.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed, taking a long moment to catch his breath.

Richard had figured something out.

The shadow's inability to bear the mask probably had nothing to do with the magnitude of power.

The shadow lacked a "core."

For the divine name of Hermes to descend into an object, there had to be a core capable of anchoring it.

The shadow was his own projection cast upon the other side of the veil.

It could move, it could stand, it could hold objects, and it could train behind the veil, but it was completely empty inside.

An empty shadow simply couldn't withstand the influx of a divine name's power.

This path with the mask had gone full circle, only to hit another dead end.

But Richard refused to give up.

He couldn't wear it, he couldn't reverse it, and having his shadow wear it was a bust.

Could he just dismantle it altogether?

He projected his Inspiration back inside.

But the deeper he read, the more he felt like he was fumbling in the dark.

The mask's ether structure was boundlessly complex.

Layer upon layer, turning point after turning point—no sooner did he finish reading one layer than the next revealed an entirely new circuit.

By the end, the entire mask was still an impenetrable black box.

He had deciphered so many ciphers before, but no matter how difficult those ciphers were, they always had their Academy Style, their school of thought, and that one core word they couldn't afford to break.

Once he found the trick, he could follow the trail to unravel the rest.

This mask was different. It simply wasn't meant to be read by human minds.

Richard pulled his Inspiration back and thought of Professor Mortimer.

But the moment the idea arose, he squashed it.

His trust in Professor Mortimer didn't run deep; the two of them had only met a handful of times in total.

More importantly, he didn't know if Hecate had left some hidden trap on the mask.

Hecate had handed the mask to him and Prometheus, casually telling them to do with it as they pleased.

But who knew if she had buried a string deep within the mask's ether structure—one only she could pull?

Richard brought out his Runestones and clearly formulated his question in his mind:

"What will happen if I take this mask to someone else to dismantle?"

The Runestones clattered and settled.

The Wheat Ear (Harvest) rolled outside the dish;

The Double Ring (Relationship) rolled outside the dish;

In the center of the dish, a single Skull remained.

Richard stared at the Skull in the dish for a long time.

The meaning couldn't be clearer.

Taking the mask to someone else to dismantle would inevitably lead to a terrifying, deadly incident.

He gathered the Runestones back up.

Leaning against the headboard, his thoughts returned to the matter of the shadow's "core."

The shadow couldn't bear the mask because it was hollow, lacking a core.

But what if the shadow had a core of its own?

If that path actually worked, it would truly be killing two birds with one stone.

But how was the shadow supposed to get a core?

This was a highly specific question, and the Runestones wouldn't provide enough feedback. Richard took out the Tarot Cards instead.

He shuffled the deck, drew a few cards, and laid them face down in front of him.

He flipped them over.

The first card was [The World - Upright].

The second card was [The Star - Upright].

The third card was [The Fool - Upright].

Richard stared at the three cards, his brow slowly furrowing.

The World meant completion and closure—a full cycle reaching its end.

The Star meant hope and guidance—being led forward by something.

The Fool meant a new beginning—a leap of faith into the unknown.

Each card looked favorable on its own.

But placed together, their direction was incredibly vague.

He did, however, glean one thing from them.

This wasn't something he could accomplish right now.

The reading pointed to a specific goal; he had to achieve that goal first before the shadow's core could be realized.

As for what that goal was, the cards didn't say.

Perhaps he had to wait until his [Speculation] reached level three to unlock a new trait;

Or wait until that seed was planted, and his [Spirit] attribute bloomed with a new function.

When that time came, the roadblocks currently stalling him might just resolve themselves.

Setting the mask aside, he turned back to the pile of items on the table.

First, Richard took out the Sacred Ibis Bronze Paperweight and the Small Bronze Balance, placing them down.

To purify these two supernatural items, he had to make them resume their original duties.

The sacred ibis kept the ledger, and the balance handled the weighing.

With every tally and every weighing, the lingering resentment would recede.

From his inner pocket, he retrieved the Bull Horn token that Coleman had shoved into his hands before leaving.

It was a dark gray metal tag the size of a thumb, engraved with the silhouette of a bull whose horns curved in a very distinct manner.

He would test it with this first.

Richard placed the Bull Horn token onto one of the balance pans. He then picked up the sacred ibis paperweight, guiding its view toward the tag.

The sacred ibis's long beak tilted toward the metal tag.

A moment later, the weighing results materialized in the form of a ledger entry.

The ibis first recorded that the engravings on the tag were runes meant to draw in ether and catalyze an explosive burst of power.

It was a mass-produced item issued by the military academy; the craftsmanship was sloppy, and the alloy composition was rather uneven.

Once the ledger was complete, the balance began to weigh.

The weighing revealed that the Bull Horn was a single-use consumable.

It instantly pushed an ether burst to its absolute limit. It was undeniably fierce, but the effect was incredibly short-lived.

Looking at the results, Richard felt that this item didn't really mesh with his path as a Scholar.

When it came to explosive power, he had the far more practical [Spiritual Capacity].

Still, it wasn't completely useless. He might be able to equip it to his shadow.

Having tested this token, Richard now knew what to expect.

Using the ibis paperweight and the balance to appraise items was truly killing two birds with one stone.

It purified both supernatural items while simultaneously allowing him to uncover the exact properties of whatever he was weighing.

He retrieved Heracles's pile of cursed objects from his shoulder bag.

The copper bell was the easiest to handle. After using the ibis and the balance to weigh it twice, Richard had mostly purified it.

[Available Points: 2.09... 2.23.]

Next, he weighed the broken blade.

He placed the blade on the pan. The ibis recorded, and the balance weighed.

Why the blade had been taken apart, and where the removed pieces went, the ledger did not record.

[Available Points: 2.23... 2.43.]

It provided slightly more points than the copper bell, but the difference was limited. Richard set the broken blade aside.

Then there was the cracked clay doll. Its seal had been broken, and the ether inside had completely dissipated. It was effectively a true piece of junk.

Richard unfurled [Silent Observation].

Ancient Celtic traditions emphasized duality—one portion for the heavens, one portion for the earth, opposite in direction yet complementary in meaning.

The Black Soil River relied on true names and weighing, along with its "Negative Confessions."

But the seal on this clay doll followed a methodology he had never seen before.

As for the flag remnant belonging to that higher-tier evil creature, Richard couldn't handle it himself. He planned to take it to his aunt once she returned.

He also intended to ask Senior Clara if her cousin, a Minor Adept craftsman, could forge it into a usable alchemical item.

He would take the clay doll along and ask about it then, too.

By the time he finished processing his haul, the candle had nearly burned out.

Richard completed his final set of Tide-Shifting Breathing.