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MP : 93 The Director
🕑 Added 2024-12-15 16:00:02 +0000 UTCAfter meeting Artoria, the previously stubborn old gravekeeper had a significant change in attitude. Now, whenever asked a question, he would answer openly without hesitation.
Following that, Roy and Artoria accompanied him into the gravekeeper village, which had been sealed off for a thousand years.
...
From the number of houses, it could be deduced that the population was only around a hundred or so. It was a village that could vanish at any moment, yet it had lingered in slumber for an incredibly long time.
Most of the buildings were constructed from green stone bricks, likely at least a century old. The entire gravekeeper village maintained a strong ancient British architectural style.
Dark red brick-tiled houses dotted every corner of the village. As it was nighttime, most of the villagers had already gone to sleep, though not everyone.
"Oh, Lord Bersac. Who are these two people with you?"
A middle-aged male voice came from the shadows, followed by a rotund man in priestly robes who called out to the group.
In fact, describing him as rotund was an understatement; he was practically spherical, resembling a large human ball of fat. The contrast between his bulging figure and the red priestly robe he wore was striking.
The profession of a priest wasn't typically associated with a figure like his, but the oppressive aura he gave off suggested that he was far from harmless.
Behind the portly priest stood a young nun, barely out of her teenage years. From her appearance, she was probably around twenty, with sharp, intelligent brown eyes and a few strands of golden hair escaping from her headscarf. The light freckles on her face only added to her charm.
She was likely a disciple of the priest.
Encountering two church officials stationed in the village at such a late hour seemed suspicious to Roy.
So, the Holy Church was also interested in the secrets of the gravekeeper village?
"Good evening, Father Croze." Bersac called out his name.
"And a good evening to you as well, Mr. Bersac."
The old gravekeeper spoke, "These are my guests. May they enter?"
"Oh, of course. After all, you are the master of this place. As a guest here myself, I have no right to interfere with your decisions."
Father Croze cast a glance at the old gravekeeper, then studied Roy and Artoria.
When he saw Artoria's face, a flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but he said nothing, simply shaking his head with a smile.
He then bowed slightly, keeping his tone respectful as he asked, "It's a pleasure to meet you both. I am Father Fernand Croze, and this is Sister Ilumia. How should I address you?"
Seeing this round yet shrewd priest, Roy was certain the man had already figured something out.
He raised his hand to stop Artoria from responding and said to him, "Merlin. You can call me Merlin. And this is my companion, Lily."
Merlin?
This response surprised both the old gravekeeper and the portly priest, given that this name carried particular weight in the village.
Upon hearing Roy announce his name, the priest's expression remained steady, showing no visible reaction.
After all, there wasn't a single person in England who hadn't heard of Merlin. Be it through children's storybooks or ancient tomes, this legendary name was well-known.
"Mr. Merlin, that's quite a legendary name! For a moment, I thought the famed Magus of Flowers had truly returned to these lands with the legendary King Arthur."
"You flatter me. It's just a coincidence. King Arthur has long since passed, hasn't he?"
Roy maintained his smile as he parried the priest's probing questions.
"Hahaha, indeed, Mr. Merlin, indeed. After all, King Arthur has been gone for over fifteen hundred years."
"Well, it's getting late. I have been invited to give a lecture to some of the faithful tomorrow, so I shall take my leave. Mr. Bersac, please take good care of your guests."
"I will."
The old gravekeeper nodded expressionlessly.
"Well then, I shall bid you goodnight, Mr. Merlin, and Miss Lily. Though this village isn't large, please don't hesitate to seek me out at the church if you need anything."
Father Croze nodded and left, with the young nun following closely behind.
However, it was clear that the priest's reason for leaving wasn't to prepare for tomorrow's lecture. He openly headed toward the outskirts of the village, likely for a more specific purpose.
The silent Sister Ilumia pursed her lips slightly as she left, mouthing a warning, "Leave quickly, intruders."
Without looking back, she hurried after the priest.
This scene amused Roy.
A late-night encounter with church officials, a priest and a nun with differing attitudes... the Holy Church clearly knew something about the village. When the portly priest heard Roy's fake name, he seemed to understand why they were here.
After all, in Britain, there was an old saying, "Merlin comes for Arthur."
The reason he didn't act against them right away probably boiled down to two factors,
One, out of respect for Bersac, he couldn't openly make a move. Two, he might have doubted his own ability to take Roy down. Though it was a bold assumption, looking at his rotund figure, the priest didn't seem like much of a fighter.
So, by leaving the village, he was likely sending a warning for them to leave. Or perhaps he was going to seek reinforcements?
What a clever man, Roy thought, though he didn't dwell on it. He was far more interested in uncovering the secrets hidden within the village.
Reassuring Bersac that there was no need for concern, Roy insisted they continue with their tour of the village as planned. If any issues arose later, he would take them outside the village to resolve them.
He swore on Merlin's honor.
And so, under the guidance of a worried Bersac, Roy and Artoria continued their exploration of the village.
They moved quickly, not leisurely sightseeing but advancing with purpose. They visited many of the village's ancient landmarks, such as the church, the hall, and the stone monuments. However, none of these locations revealed anything particularly unusual.
That was until they arrived in front of a large windmill.
Roy stopped and asked the old gravekeeper, "Who built this windmill?"
"What's wrong?" Artoria looked up at the windmill curiously, a puzzled expression on her face.
"You're not a magus, so you wouldn't sense its intricacies. But trust me, this windmill is quite fascinating."
At Roy's request, the old gravekeeper led him and Artoria closer to the massive windmill.
The wind on the mountain was strong at night, yet the windmill remained still, showing no signs of movement. Perhaps it was broken, but its interior was quite spacious.
What really piqued Roy's interest, though, was the craftsmanship involved in modifying the windmill. This was no ordinary structure... it was a special type of magical fortress, the entire windmill designed as a mystic code.
"This was once a dwelling. A peculiar guest lived here, and the strange aspects you've noticed were likely left by him."
"A guest, huh…"
Roy had a good idea of who it might be. Given the timeline, it was probably the work of the Director of the Atlas Institute.
"Does he still live here?"
As the director of the Atlas Institute, one of the three branches of the Mage's Association, Roy naturally wanted to meet him in person. He was very interested in this mysterious figure who was proficient in alchemy and the creation of mystic code.
The Seven Superweapons of Altas, the future support for the Chaldea operations' rayshift technology, imaginary number submersibles, and SHEBA observations... all these were technologies provided by the Atlas Institute. One could say that the Atlas Institute was a palace of alchemy and represented the highest level of integration of magecraft and technology in the world.
"No, that guest left here a long time ago. Although he occasionally returns, there is no regularity." Bersac replied.
"The last time he came back was five months ago."
"Is that so… What a pity."
Hearing that the person had left, Roy shook his head, feeling somewhat regretful.
He understood that it would be hard to see someone like Zepia again, a figure as elusive as that could hardly be encountered again in the world.
"However, that guest left behind quite a bit of information; many documents about our family are stored here. I'll take you to retrieve them."
"Alright, please lead the way."
Knock Knock Knock
The old gravekeeper tentatively knocked a few times on the door and, upon receiving no response, reached into his old tattered pocket to pull out a key and inserted it into the lock.
With a click... the strange iron door beneath the windmill was opened.
"Please, come in."
As the door swung open, a strong smell of ink rushed out, revealing a dimly lit room filled with parchment and books scattered across the floor, while an unused ink pot rested on the desk.
However, these were not the items that drew Roy's attention; it was the strange devices placed on the experimental table.
"What are these square crystals?"
He picked up the odd instruments that seemed out of place, curiously examining them for a while.
The eight-sided shapes were cubical and it was unclear what material they were made of, with flowing magical energy on their surfaces, which was quite intriguing.
There were also devices whose materials were indiscernible, resembling common mobile phones but with no buttons at all.
These were all unusual mystic codes, truly deserving of the Atlas Institute's reputation for being scientific madmen, even bringing so many special devices to such a remote location.
He glanced at the strange furnace in the corner and touched the floating crystal cube, deep in thought.
Not only did they bring a magical energy reactor, but even the special cubes for verification were left behind. Did they treat this place as a temporary base?
"Do not touch the instruments in the room; find the information you want and leave."
Roy glanced around the room at the instruments and the documents on the table but did not delve into them.
Mystic codes from the Atlas Institute were highly attractive to any magus, but acting without permission was akin to theft. It was already rude to intrude on someone else's base; touching their notes and instruments would be even more unacceptable.
"Hmm, why?"
"Are you not interested in the research materials I left here, or have you already sensed that I was observing this place?"
As soon as he finished speaking, another calm voice echoed from somewhere in the room almost simultaneously.
"Who is it?"
Not sensing any presence, the sudden voice immediately put Artoria on high alert.
"Rest assured, Your Majesty King Arthur, I have not been hiding; on the contrary, I have always been right here."
Then, in the dim light, the crystal cube in front of Roy suddenly began to rotate, with strange magical energy operating on its surface, followed by a beam of light projecting a pale blue spiritual image in the center of the room.
"And this was originally my base, wasn't it? The intruders here are actually you."
The projection revealed a young man with long golden hair, tall and dressed in an oddly styled black robe, resembling a noble from a fairy tale.
The projected figure held his head in regret and said with a touch of distress, "What a pity; I had to leave early due to the trivial matters of the Atlas Institute and missed the opportunity to meet the Magician of the Third Magic. This is indeed a huge loss, as I am very curious about the Third Magic."
"You are from the Atlas Institute, right?"
Ignoring his theatrics, Roy chose to cut straight to the point with a question.
"Indeed, I am honored that the Magician of the Third Magic, one who has reached the Root and has contact with it recognizes me. My name is Zepia Eltnam Oberon, and I currently also serve as the director of the Atlas Institute."
Zepia nodded and performed a noble gesture towards Roy, then began his self-introduction.
"Reached the Root and contacted the Root?"
This statement surprised Roy. Did he know about Shiki's existence? For someone to know this information was no small matter.
"Apologies; I was too blunt just now."
"Perhaps you may be curious why I know about your matters with that person." Before Roy could ask, Zepia preemptively explained.
"But this information is not a secret for the Tri-Hermes; it is like a library that records Earth. Any events or objects that exist or happen on the planet can be easily discovered."
"After all, during the Fourth Holy Grail War, you caused such a commotion that not only did it provoke the Magician of the Second Magic, but it also birthed a Holy Grail Angel possessing the Third Magic. Such a massive change in the course of the world certainly prompted the Atlas Institute to conduct detailed investigations and records, so it is not surprising that I know all this."
"It seems you know a lot, so have you also investigated my situation?"
"…"
The question was pointed.
However, Zepia's expression did not change; he merely nodded and replied, "I have investigated and learned a lot."
"When I noticed your peculiar existence, I conducted a comprehensive investigation and search on you using the Tri-Hermes. The obtained materials indeed astonished me, and it also made me more interested in you. However…"
He glanced at Artoria and Bersac, who were still in the room, and slowly said, "Please rest assured, the information about your special circumstances has not leaked; it has now been locked away in the top-secret archive of the Atlas Institute."
"...Is that so? Then that's fine."
Roy looked at him but chose not to pursue the topic further, timely bringing it to a close.
"Then let's keep it short, Mr. Zepia; I have some things I want to ask you."
"Please, go ahead."
"Rather than the so-called ancient texts, I would prefer to hear your insights and research on this village as the director of the Atlas Institute. This naturally includes the resurrection of King Arthur and rituals prepared by the witch."
"Now that's a direct question."
Upon hearing this, Zepia sighed with a bitter smile. "As the Director of the Atlas Institute, I would prefer not to get involved with matters of this village. After all, this gravekeeper's village involves the age of gods rituals, along with King Arthur and the Witch of Britain."
"Then why are you here?"
Artoria raised a question.
"Your Excellency King Arthur, as you have just been resurrected in your heroic spirit form, you may not be fully aware of this."
Zepia shook his head and glanced at the old gravekeeper standing beside her before explaining, "The reason I am here is that this village holds an important token, the Contracts of Atlas."
"Those are seven important tokens written at the beginning of the establishment of the Atlas Institute. As long as one holds that token, the Atlas Institute will provide its full assistance, which is precisely why I often return here."
"A long time ago, a certain gravekeeper of this village contacted me using the contract and wanted to borrow the Logos React from the Seven Superweapons of Altas to complete some important plans. As the current director, I often stay here out of concern for the operational status of that instrument. Although I cannot deny that I am also very interested in the magical rituals left by the witch of the age of gods and the plan for the resurrection of King Arthur."
"Based on my calculations, that witch's plan would soon be completed within the next fifty years. And after hundreds of years, a vessel of King Arthur successfully emerged from the gravekeeper's village, and that girl fulfilled the requirements to act as a perfect vessel. Next, it would only require the synchronization of her spirit and the summoning of King Arthur's soul to resurrect him."
At this point, he glanced at Roy saying helplessly, "Originally, everything was supposed to develop this way, but your sudden appearance has almost disrupted the entire timeline, causing the future to become unpredictable and veering in unforeseen directions."
"And according to common sense, the outcome of your chaotic actions should have been corrected by the Root, yet the result is that you returned from the Root and inherited the Third Magic, indicating that the Root has acknowledged you."
"This also means that the so-called predicted orthodox future has become worthless. Originally, you and I were supposed to meet, but that would have been in a much more distant future. Until recently, you shook the entire ley line in the London area, forcibly connecting to the Throne of Heroes to summon King Arthur in his Heroic Spirit form. I felt that meeting you had to be put on the agenda, so I activated the projection here to see if you would arrive."
"You must be looking for that witch, right?"
Roy nodded, "Yes, is she in this village?"
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I have not discovered any traces of the witch in this village. There are only many remnants left by her."
"Remnants, I understand. Thank you for the information. I will search for Morgan myself."
"You're welcome. On the contrary, I'm actually quite happy to meet you here. It's been a pleasant conversation, and I truly look forward to the day we can meet in reality."
"I look forward to that as well."
"By the way, before you leave, there's one thing I would like to ask of you."
Before departing, Zepia continued, "Since King Arthur has already resurrected in his heroic spirit form, the failure of that witch's ritual is now inevitable. I have no reason to continue assisting with an outcome that is destined to fail. Originally, I could have simply relied on remote control to stop the simulation program, but recently, the intervention of some special power has caused me to lose absolute control over it."
"Therefore, I would like to ask you to help me shut down the still-operating Logos React to terminate the simulation. Although it may become very dangerous inside, I believe it will not pose any problems for you and King Arthur."
"As for the reward... you can take the instruments and the magical energy reactor I left in the windmill room. You can also use the Logos React for a period of time, just return it to the windmill when you leave. How about it? Are you willing to accept?"
"That's a generous offer; I have no reason to refuse."
Roy nodded and directly agreed.
"Mr. Zepia, since the king has been resurrected, why has the curse of the gravekeeper family not been lifted?"
Realizing that Zepia was about to leave, the old gravekeeper, who had remained silent until now, hurriedly questioned.
"Did you not say that once the king is resurrected, the curse troubling the gravekeepers will disappear?"
"The curse of the gravekeeper family..."
Looking at the anxious old man, Zepia shook his head and then began to explain, "What I meant by resurrection refers to completing the ritual to bring King Arthur back to life."
"The target bound by the vow of your gravekeeper family is not King Arthur, but the ley line beneath your feet. Your ancestors signed a contract with Morgan le Fay in the presence of the Root, which is why you have been bound to this land and have not been liberated for so long."
"As long as you do not proceed with the ritual as dictated by that witch, resurrecting King Arthur will not lift your curse. This time, King Arthur's resurrection was achieved through the miracle of the Third Magic and the magical power of the London ley line, so it naturally has nothing to do with you. Thus, the curse remains."
"Then what must be done to lift the curse?"
Artoria asked excitedly, continuing to press for answers.
"...Well, the simplest method is, of course, to follow the contents of the contract and complete this magical ritual. However, that route is now locked."
Zepia shook his head helplessly as he glanced at Artoria.
"What are the other methods?"
"There are indeed other methods. To untie the bell, you must find the bell-ringer... go seek Morgan le Fay. As long as you find her and obtain her consent to tear up the contract linked to the ley line, the entire gravekeeper village can be truly liberated."
"To seek Morgan le Fay..."
Hearing this outrageous answer, the old gravekeeper felt dizzy, staggering back a few steps before finally leaning against the wall to steady himself.
"How am I supposed to search for a mythical witch from fifteen hundred years ago?"
"I'm sorry; I can't help you."
Zepia sighed, and then his figure composed of spiritual particles gradually dissipated.
"The rest of the work is up to you."
