Chapter 89: Ash Belt, Silent Monastery

Ares retrieved a palm-sized Iron Box from the hidden compartment beside his armrest and set it on the round table.

He opened the lid. Six bullets rested inside on a bed of black velvet.

Incredibly fine etchings covered the tips, arranged across the conical surfaces to form complete miniature inscription rings.

Enchanted Bullets. Richard's heart sped up.

He had seen this kind of thing at Old Biggs's place.

Silver casings and lead-silver alloy tips, with exorcism inscriptions carved into the metal.

But the Enchanted Bullets in Old Biggs's box only had a single inscription ring.

The six Ares had just brought out boasted three full layers.

Two loops of extremely fine silver wire were inlaid between the three inscription rings, separating three concentric circles that were entirely covered in runes.

"3rd Circle Enchanted Bullets," Ares said, his voice muffled by the red copper mask.

He tapped one of the tips.

"The First Ring is a standard exorcism inscription. Upon impact, it inflicts direct burns on ether bodies. You all know this; it's the exact same effect as the single-ring rounds on the market."

"The Second Ring is an enhancement ring. It amplifies the First Ring's burning effect and extends its duration."

"The Third Ring is a special effect ring..."

He paused deliberately to build suspense.

"The effect is 'Anchor.' Upon impact, the target ether body is pinned in place for ten seconds, unable to perform any ether-level displacement or phase shifting. In plain terms, if you hit it, it can't escape. Whether the spirit entity wants to retreat behind the veil or scatter into mist, it won't be able to."

Richard felt a twinge of envy.

The effect of the Enchanted Bullets came entirely from the tip inscriptions, completely independent of the shooter's own ether.

As long as you could fire the gun and hit the target, the runes would activate automatically.

This meant even a Newcomer armed with this ammunition could handle spirit entities far beyond their own level.

Assuming they could actually land the shot, of course.

Ares left the Iron Box on the table, and Richard naturally studied the man's hands.

He noticed that Ares had clearly hesitated when opening it.

It was a minor detail, but it revealed a lot.

Back in the underground shooting range, Old Biggs had acted exactly like this when he brought out his own small iron box to show Richard the standard single-ring Enchanted Bullets.

It was the cautious display of someone showing off a long-hoarded trump card they couldn't bear to use.

Richard started calculating silently.

If Ares were a Minor Adept-level Hunter, 3rd Circle Enchanted Bullets wouldn't be so precious to him.

For a Minor Adept, Enchanted Bullets were more of a labor-saving tool than an absolute necessity.

A Minor Adept trading 3rd Circle Enchanted Bullets for intel would do so casually, tossing them out like cheap trinkets.

But Ares hadn't done that. That was very interesting.

"I have six rounds here," Ares said, pushing the Iron Box toward the center of the round table.

"Whoever has the latest survey report on the Ash Belt in the northern wastelands of Glasgow, or can provide a safe route through it, can take these Enchanted Bullets."

The name Ash Belt didn't ring any bells for Richard.

The northern wastelands of Glasgow lay toward the Gaelic Highlands, a long way from the Imperial Capital.

He had never read anything about it.

Yet judging by Ares's tone, this Ash Belt was clearly a hazardous area—dangerous enough to require a safe route just to enter.

Ares wanted to go in.

Go in to do what?

Richard didn't know, nor did he plan to ask.

Dionysus set down his wine glass.

"I don't have a survey report for the Ash Belt."

He pulled a flat Tin Box from his own hidden compartment, one size larger than Ares's.

He opened the Tin Box to reveal an exquisitely folded piece of parchment.

He unfolded it, exposing a surface densely packed with symbols and diagrams.

"This is a complete Sensory Shielding Spell Formula," Dionysus said.

"Once cast, the target cannot be locked onto by any remote sensory Spell Formula for six hours. That includes destiny fingerprint tracking, ether residue tracing, and the directional positioning of Spirit Realm Messengers—all rendered completely ineffective."

He tapped a specific symbol on the parchment.

"This Spell Formula can be applied to allies. The medium requires three drops of the caster's own blood, a strand of the target's hair, and ample ether. Casting takes about fifteen minutes. It doesn't require a special environment, and any Practitioner can complete it independently."

"As for my price..." Dionysus picked up his glass and swirled the liquid inside. "A temporary pass to the third floor and above at the Imperial Capital University Library, or a contact who can help me secure one."

Richard paid close attention.

The third floor and above at the Imperial Capital University Library.

The last time he went, the old woman at the front desk had told him, "Access to the third floor and above requires a separate application."

He had only stayed on the first and second floors back then, never attempting to go up to the third.

Now it seemed that whatever was up there, even someone like Dionysus couldn't gain access through normal channels.

What exactly was hidden up there?

Richard began to evaluate Dionysus's strength.

He couldn't recognize every component of the Spell Formula on the parchment, but he understood its general structure.

Dionysus had stated himself that a Practitioner could complete it independently.

The fact that he could write out the entire Spell Formula sequence meant he was at least a Senior Practitioner.

But the real key was what he wanted in exchange.

A temporary pass to the third floor and above at the Imperial Capital University Library.

That single request inadvertently revealed he had no other way in.

A Minor Adept likely wouldn't find themselves in such a predicament.

Prometheus made his move next.

He drew a Cloth Bag from his own hidden compartment.

The bag was small, tied shut with hemp rope, and it clinked softly as he set it on the table.

He untied the rope and spilled the contents onto the table.

Five small glass vials.

Each vial was only the size of a thumb, sealed tightly with wax, and filled with an eerie dark liquid.

Richard sharply perceived the aura emanating from the contents.

It was heavier, colder, and... more ancient than ether.

"Deep Ether Condensate," Prometheus said, his voice deliberately suppressed into a rasp.

"This is a highly concentrated Condensate that naturally precipitates from deep within the veil. Roughly 0.3 milliliters per vial."

"It has many uses. It can accelerate a meditative breakthrough, act as a catalytic medium for a Spell Formula, or repair physical damage. But each vial is single-use. Once it's gone, it's gone."

"Five vials."

He pocketed the Cloth Bag, leaving the five small vials lined up neatly on the table.

"I want an internal record regarding the ruins of the Silent Monastery in Carmarthenshire. Any format will do. Logs, letters, survey notes, or even dictated transcripts."

Richard was equally unfamiliar with the Silent Monastery.

However, he caught one specific detail: Prometheus had asked for internal records.

He must have already reviewed the public information on the Silent Monastery and found it lacking.

He wanted the information that had never been made public.

What could possibly be recorded in the internal logs of an abandoned monastery?

He had heard far too many dark tales about monasteries.

Richard committed the detail to memory.

Applying the same logic he had used on Dionysus, he figured Prometheus probably hadn't reached Minor Adept either.

He wanted internal records on the Silent Monastery.

Any format would do: logs, letters, survey notes, or transcripts. He wasn't turning anything down.

This approach suggested he only had a vague idea about the monastery and lacked any concrete leads.

Now, all three men had laid out their stalls.

Each had something they wanted, and each had something to offer. This was how the round table truly operated.

The three had exposed their needs to each other, and those needs were the most valuable intel of all.

And the most crucial insight he had extracted from this information was their general level of strength.

The tension in Richard's chest finally eased.

The three core members who spoke the most and offered the heaviest bids were likely all Practitioners; at best, they had just touched the threshold of Minor Adept.

In that case, the true distribution of combat power at this round table was a tier lower than his initial estimate.

Hecate was a different matter.

She occupied the role of host. She was at least a Minor Adept, possibly higher, but she wouldn't necessarily intervene personally.

The ones actually making deals were these three.

Richard shifted slightly in his seat.

He had originally planned to package himself as a humble, promising Newcomer whom the others would be willing to cultivate long-term. Now, he could adjust that strategy a bit.

They were stronger than him, but not overwhelmingly so.

At most, they were a group who had started earlier, carried better gear, and enjoyed wider information channels. They were a far cry from the terrifying entities he had imagined could crush him with a thought.

Dionysus spoke up first.

"Ares, I really don't have a survey report for the Ash Belt."

He rested his glass on his armrest.

"But I heard a Hunter squad returned from the edge of the Ash Belt last month. Five went in, three came out. They sold their route to a middleman in Edinburgh named Lauren, who runs an agency in the Old Town."

Ares nodded, though he seemed hesitant again.

"Lauren," he repeated. "Edinburgh's Old Town."

"Yes, but I'm not very familiar with him, so I can't guarantee he'll be willing to sell."

Ares nodded and didn't press the issue.

He closed the Iron Box but didn't take it back.

Leaving it on the table meant the trade was still open.

"I owe you a favor for the tip," Ares told Dionysus. "Next time you need fire support, you can come to my squad."

Dionysus raised his glass in acknowledgment.

He then turned to Prometheus.

"Prometheus, about your five vials of Condensate. If you're willing to split them, I can trade my Sensory Shielding Spell Formula for two."

"I can split them."

Prometheus's voice remained incredibly raspy.

"But I don't need a Sensory Shielding Spell Formula. I'm not afraid of being found."

The statement was delivered flatly, but Richard could hear the absolute confidence behind it.

To have no fear of being tracked meant one of two things: either his personal strength or his faction was powerful enough that pursuers couldn't do anything even if they found him...

...or he was already in a position where being found simply didn't matter.

It seemed he needed to move his assessment of Prometheus's strength into the pending category.

"Then what do you want?" Dionysus asked.

"Records on the Silent Monastery," Prometheus repeated. "That's all I want."

"I don't have anything like that."

"Then no deal for now."

Prometheus pushed the Condensate back toward the center of the table.

"I'll hold onto them. Whoever can give me the monastery records gets all five vials."