Magician in Type-Moon

Page 578

The gray suit that should have been worn by his thin frame had now blended into the surrounding environment, covered with mud and rock debris.

He vigorously rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, trying to wipe away the sticky mixture of sweat and grime, then made a rather ineffective hand-shaking motion.

"Lord Meastia, do you know that you look like a baboon that has fallen into an ash pit?"

Standing beside him was his young assistant, Tica, who held an unusually sturdy black briefcase and scrutinized her mentor with a look that was a mixture of helplessness and ruthless bluntness.

Her voice was clear and crisp, standing out exceptionally well in the empty cave.

"Hey, Tica, you're saying weird things again. Have you been reading too many manga lately?"

Meastia simply shrugged indifferently at his assistant's almost insulting comment, the dusty shoulders of his suit shaking as a few specks of dust fell.

His tone even sounded somewhat indulgent.

"Lord Meastia, didn't you say before that Lord Hatres was going to participate in the Grand Order Decision? Why is Lord Meastia now hiding in this drab place digging a hole?"

Tica clearly wasn't going to let him off the hook. She pushed up her glasses and continued to bombard him with questions and criticisms, her criticisms aimed directly at the monarch's contradictory behavior and his current pathetic state of "digging a hole."

"Well, this Grand Prix decision is not the same as that Grand Prix decision. You're still too young, Tica."

Instead of answering directly, Meastia hummed a tuneless melody, a mysterious smile on her face.

"Is there anything else in the Grand Order decision?" Tica asked, puzzled.

Tica frowned, clearly even more confused by her monarch's deliberately mysterious attitude.

"Hmph, of course, the 'Grand Order Decision' currently being held next door is just a pirated version."

As Mayastia spoke, she carefully and precisely buried an ancient cursed object, which emitted a faint magical fluctuation, deep into the pit that had just been dug beneath her feet.

His movements carried the focus and a touch of ritual characteristic of archaeologists.

As Mayastia buried the cursed object in her hand into the pit beneath her feet, she answered her assistant Tica's question.

"Piracy? Is there such a thing as 'genuine' or 'piracy' in a grand decision involving the monarch?"

Tica couldn't help but twitch her lips; this explanation was simply too outrageous.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, assuming it was just her eccentric monarch having another intermittent "outburst."

"Tika, you're a member of our archaeology department, yet you seem so ignorant about the history of the Clock Tower? You know, we're the department that studies history."

Meastia stopped what she was doing, turned to look at her assistant, her tone carrying a genuine sense of helplessness and disappointment, as if questioning her professional competence.

"Huh? Isn't the history of the clock tower part of the law and political science curriculum? We archaeology students don't need to study that. Anyway, the clock tower hasn't existed for very long."

Tika immediately retorted, pushing up her glasses and straightening her back confidently.

In her view, the true mission of archaeology is to uncover the mysteries that are truly ancient, buried underground or in the dust of history, while the "modern history" of the clock tower is utterly insignificant.

"Hey, is it really okay to say these things in front of me, the ruler of the Clock Tower?"

Meastia glanced at her self-willed assistant with annoyance, only to find that the other party still acted as if it were perfectly normal and was unyielding. She could only sigh deeply and decide to stop beating around the bush.

"You should have heard of the contents of the pirated Grand Decree; it is merely the final judgment place used by monarchs to decide certain important matters."

“Ah, I know that,” Tika immediately chimed in, her tone carrying a hint of deliberate knowingness. “It’s the kind of meeting where you dirty political creatures gather to plot conspiracies.”

She even nodded in a mocking manner.

"The genuine Grand Decree is a ritual, the Clock Tower's true trump card."

Meastia ignored his assistant's sharp tongue, his voice lowering to reveal a rare seriousness.

"And it's a true trump card that's no less powerful than the monsters from the Atlas Academy and the Wandering Sea."

"Huh? Lady Meastia, are you sure you don't have a fever? Why are you talking nonsense?"

Tika continued to complain.

After all, as an assistant to this archaeologist who traveled all over the world, Tica learned many secrets.

The eight great weapons of the Atlas Academy, and the divine magic of the Wandering Sea.

It looks much better than an ordinary clock tower.

"You guy!"

Meastia glared helplessly at her assistant.

"If it didn't have a real foundation, how do you think the Clock Tower could have become a department of the entire Mage's Association headquarters?!"

Chapter 615 Intrigue and Backstabbing (4k)

Styx.

The murky, lifeless surface of the River Styx was filled with a suffocating, icy mist.

An old-fashioned wooden boat, its hull covered in signs of decay, silently cuts through the viscous river water, slowly moving forward in the boundless darkness.

Matouchi sat quietly at the bow of the boat, her gaze piercing through the thin mist and landing on the silent ferryman.

The other person was completely shrouded in a dark hooded robe, obscuring their face; only their hand holding the long pole showed distinct knuckles and an inhuman stiffness.

Charon.

Styx Ferryman, son of Erebus, the dark god of the five primordial gods, and Nyx, the goddess of night.

Erebus and Nyx mated and had Aether, the goddess of the sky, Hemera, the goddess of day, and Charon, the ferryman of the Styx.

This is the legendary ferryman, whose name itself symbolizes the boundary between life and death.

He is of ancient divine lineage, born in the deepest darkness and the purest night.

The ferryman in the River Styx is responsible for ferrying the souls of the dead to the other side of the river.

Legend has it that as long as the living pay Charon, the ferryman of the Styx, he will ferry them across the river, but his boat becomes extremely unsafe due to the weight of the living.

His age-old duty is to guide the souls of the dead across the River Styx, which separates the living from the dead, to the realm of the dead.

Ancient contracts allowed the living to exchange "boat fees" for the opportunity to cross the river, but for the living, those light boats carrying the souls of the dead were like walking on thin ice, full of unknown dangers.

Matouchi has already paid the boat fare.

The price has been paid, and the contract is in effect. The "rusty silver" coin, tainted with the aura of the underworld, now lies within Charon's robe sleeve.

The ship sailed toward the ferry crossing on the River Styx.

The dilapidated wooden boat, propelled by Charon's mechanically precise pole, sailed steadily yet with an eerie silence toward the unknown ferry crossing deep in the mist.

"Have you seen any other living people? A man and a girl."

Matouchi asked the question in ancient and precise Greek, his voice sounding exceptionally clear on the still river.

He needed to confirm whether his companions who had fallen into the same trap—Fru and Yvette—had also set foot in this land of the dead. Their shared fall was his only clue at this moment.

“…No.” Charon answered in a matter-of-fact manner.

His response was Charon's flat, monotone voice, like the rustling of dry wood.

The answer was concise and cold, devoid of any extra information or emotion.

Its tone and reactions lacked any emotional fluctuations or traces of thought that a living being should have; it was more like a machine executing a pre-programmed sequence.

However, Matou Ike never expected that the other party would meet Furi and Yvette.

It was just a routine inquiry.

Matouike was not surprised by this result.

The probability of him encountering and remembering two specific survivors is extremely low. This inquiry is more of a necessary process of elimination.

"So in the last thirty years, have you seen any living people set foot on this land?" Matou Ike continued to ask.

He changed the question and broadened the time frame.

Thirty years may be short in the underworld, but for a magician on earth, it is enough time for many secret things to happen.

He needed to know whether any living person before him had ever ventured into this forbidden territory.

"...There was one, but he did not pay the fare."

Charon was silent for a moment, seemingly searching through records from the long past.

Finally, his flat voice rang out again, providing a crucial piece of information: within the last thirty years, a living person had indeed set foot in the underworld. But more importantly—this person did not pay the fare.

Charon didn't seem to mind answering Matouchi's question.

Contrary to the legendary image of a taciturn and eccentric character, this Charon was quite "cooperative" in responding to Matou Pond's questions.

However, Matou Ike didn't find this particularly strange.

Because Matou Ike used the Deconstruction Mystic Eyes to observe the other person the moment he first saw them.

Charon is not a real god, but merely a projection.

Matouike's Mystic Eyes had already seen through the truth. The "Charon" before her was not the original deity with an independent will from that ancient myth.

It's more like a pre-programmed program, a conceptual projection called "Crossing the River Styx" that operates according to the rules of the underworld.

It's like a special mechanic in a game called "Styx".

Its very existence is to perform the core function of "ferrying" and to conduct limited interactions according to preset rules (such as collecting boat fees).

Lacking the complex emotions and will of a true deity, there is naturally no motivation to "dislike" or "refuse to answer."

As for why Matou Ike wanted to spy on the other party...

...Naturally, it was simply because they were somewhat "greedy" for the powers of this Styx ferryman.

This is what he truly cares about.

Deconstructing the Demon Eye is not only about seeing through the other party's true nature, but also about deeply analyzing the core of its operation—the power unique to the Styx Ferryman.

The power to travel freely in the River Styx.

The key to this power lies in its ability to disregard the erosion and repulsion of the Styx's laws, creating a safe passage between life and death. This is the essential power of "ferrying".

This might provide a more complete concept for Matouchi's "Yomi" power.

Matouike's own "Yomi" powers are closely related to death and the underworld, but perhaps there is still a lack in the area of ​​"passage".

If we can analyze, or even “borrow”, the essence of the power to freely traverse the River Styx as shown by Charon’s projection, it will undoubtedly inject key elements into his own concept of “the underworld,” making it more complete and powerful.

This "covetousness" was precisely the fundamental purpose behind his initiative to approach and observe the projection.