Obviously, her savings were not as meager as she had claimed. Once they got there, she could still grit her teeth and afford enough open land to build a workshop.
That was perfectly normal. As long as apprentices wanted to make money, there were plenty of methods and avenues available to them.
But then again, what apprentice was content with merely making money? Their hearts still burned with the desire to climb ever higher.
As that famous maxim put it: We were born to seek radiance, as sparks fly upward.
Fortune-telling Master of the Domain!
Presis did not know that the manager she spoke of was not an "apprentice," but a "Daylight"—one who stood at the pinnacle of modern Ascendants after World War II.
And not someone like Andon, who had only recently entered Daylight, but a former Knight of the Round Table who bore multiple Marks and stood at the very peak of Daylight.
Unlike her former comrades, Mordred had not answered Arthur's summons and appeared beneath the banner.
Because Mordred's spirit body had been perfectly preserved by the Sage, Morgan had summoned her separately, placing her outside the Knights of the Round Table's ranks.
After that, she had always traveled alongside Morgan.
The illusion on her body had also been cast by Morgan. No matter what, this was London proper; exposing her identity would not be good.
After hesitating for a long while, Mordred finally took out her phone and dialed Morgan's number.
The call connected quickly, and a woman's cool voice came from the other end.
"Hello? It's me." Mordred lowered her voice. "Mother, where are you now?"
"This is modern society. Don't add strange honorifics after my name." Morgan first corrected Mordred's form of address. "I'm currently inspecting Blanckug."
Mordred knew of Blanckug. It was a place where apprentices and recluses lived in seclusion, the only autonomous territory in all Albion that remained exempt beneath King Arthur's authority.
Its ruler was not any individual, but a library called Silent Bookstore.
"Understood, Mother." Mordred adapted readily. "Do you have time to perform a fortune-telling?"
The voice on the other end fell silent for a moment. "Water Mirror fortune-telling won't work. Ever since I calculated clues related to Merlin for Arthur last time, I haven't been able to use it."
Morgan recalled how, after using the Water Mirror to help Arthur calculate Merlin-related clues last time, Arthur had sent every Knight of the Round Table under her command to conduct rituals across more than a dozen borders at once as if she had gone mad.
Every so often, she would make a move on that scale.
As long as Merlin was not mentioned, Arthur remained the wise and valiant Eternal King. But if the situation involved Merlin, Arthur would act regardless of the cost.
Morgan sighed. She was the same.
"There's no need to use Water Mirror fortune-telling, Mother." Mordred spoke softly. "An ordinary divination spell will be enough."
"What do you want to divine?" Morgan did not care what Mordred wished to calculate. After all, for one of the few Dusk beings in the modern world, with her rank, any divination medium would do.
"I want to calculate someone." Mordred said, "That person lives in Alfi Square on Church Street. I don't know her name, but she looks... exactly like Merlin."
Something heavy crashed to the ground on the other end, as though something had shattered.
"You mean that person looks exactly... like Merlin?"
A terrifying aura came through the phone. In an instant, even pitch black illusions appeared before Mordred's eyes.
"Yes, I confirmed it." Mordred answered decisively. "That is why I hope you can perform a divination, Mother, and calculate whether she is related to Merlin."
A hoarse laugh, tinged with madness, came from the other end.
"Mordred, you truly have grown up. You did very well... Stay in contact at all times. I'll begin the divination immediately."
Cornwall, Blanckug Town.
Within the pitch black oak forest, the pale moon drifted between the shadows of the trees. At the clearing in the heart of the forest, the silver-haired witch in black held a spear shaped like a tower spire and traced the symbol of the Twelve Archons into the soil.
The symbols of the Twelve Archons connected end to end, forming a ring.
Next came the symbols representing the Archons of the Seven Principles.
Mr. Day, the Holy Grail, Celestial Flint, Scar Father, Fisher King, Messiah, Duke of Sighs.
Among them, the symbol of Mr. Day, representing Lamp's Principle, was the largest.
It was a totem composed entirely of lines, resembling both a rising sun on the horizon and a half-open eye.
Unable to use the Water Mirror fortune-telling she was best at, Morgan could not easily calculate the existence of one with an equal rank. But when had fortune-telling ever been such an inconvenient art?
Apprentices new to fortune-telling would use large-scale rituals to borrow higher ranks, ward off the dangers of divination, and obtain more information.
Afterward, as they mastered rituals and raised their own ranks, heroes specializing in fortune-telling could obtain the answers they wanted with just a few pebbles. When their own safety was involved, they could be even more unreasonable, experiencing sudden premonitions that directly showed fragments of the future before their eyes.
Other than matters concerning Merlin, Morgan only needed to count on her fingers a few times to divine anything she wanted.
Yet at this moment, she spared no important materials and directly set up a rank-borrowing ritual within her workshop territory.
She would borrow the rank of the Archon who governed prophecy, foresight, and dawn, then forcefully calculate every piece of information concerning Hebe!
The massive spear pierced the earth before her. A chilling laugh echoed through the woods as Morgan suddenly pressed her hands together before her chest.
The mist in the oak forest began to thicken and churn, as if something wished to use it to take shape.
Then the temperature rose slightly. The mist gradually began to glow, expanding and contracting like a living creature. Moments later, a pair of coal-black beadlike eyes opened within it.
"Nonono! Nonono!"
This was a resident of the wilderness, an inconspicuous creation beneath Mr. Day's command—Mistshifter.
These wilderness creatures called Mistshifters loved chasing light and heat. They would instinctively follow certain elements here.
However, the moment this Mistshifter saw Morgan, it let out a bloodcurdling scream. It tried to flee, but Morgan merely reached out and caught it in her palm.
"Fine quality. You'll serve as the ritual's foundation."
The Fallen Empress calmly declared the Mistshifter's fate, slowly tightening her hand.
Then part of the Fallen Empress's consciousness separated from her body and forcibly pierced into the Mistshifter's body.
Using its connection to the wilderness and the high rank she had borrowed, the Fallen Empress forcibly locked onto Alfi Square from Blanckug.
Vast cobalt-blue starlight shone from the Fallen Empress's eyes, dyeing the Mistshifter's entire body an eerie deep blue.
Bang!
The Mistshifter did not even have time to scream before it burst apart cleanly.
Morgan calmly shook her hand.
She destroyed the remnants of the ritual on the ground, walked beyond the oak forest, and made a phone call.
Mordred picked up her phone.
She heard a cool voice from the other end.
"No result."
Mordred frowned. Could Mother's divination actually fail?
"What are you thinking?" Morgan said calmly. "No result is also a result."
She had searched through every resident of Alfi Square, calculating their personal information as well as their past and future over the last three months.
Under such circumstances, Alfi Square was like a fully colored map to Morgan. Yet when she tried to divine Hebe, she saw an endless expanse of cobalt-blue starlight.
It was practically a wall without a single blind spot.
The Mistshifter's form had been cleanly scattered by the counterattack of that "starlight" firewall.
On the map in Morgan's mind, only Hebe's section remained completely black. Yet despite receiving no information, she could still identify Hebe through reverse deduction.
After that...
"Stay at the restaurant. Don't run around." Morgan gave the order coldly. "I'm returning from Blanckug immediately."
The Fallen Empress hung up and headed directly for the center of Blanckug Town, intending to sell the land she had purchased at once.
This was a law established by Silent Bookstore, a rule all residents settling in Blanckug had to obey.
Mordred had just wanted to say that Hebe might be moving, but Morgan had already hung up.
When she called back, the phone only gave a busy tone.
What Do I Look Like in History?
Early the next morning, Hebe left home carrying a black briefcase.
The Fox White Second-hand Store sign had already been taken down. Hebe stared at the bare wall with a hint of melancholy, then turned and left without further attachment.
Presis's van was parked on the other side.
When Hebe walked over and opened the car door, she discovered that someone she had never expected to see was sitting in the front seat.
She stared at that person, her gaze showing little emotion, yet making the other person visibly restless.
"What is this supposed to be?" Hebe's tone revealed neither joy nor anger. "After our meeting ended yesterday, did you drag someone else into this, Boss?"
Mordred sat in the back seat, her gaze darting away.
Hebe had no choice but to confirm it. She had not expected that after she had clearly stated that she did not intend to drag anyone else into this, the restaurant's lobby manager would still appear here.
Although she was also catching a ride with Presis, how could something already agreed upon be changed overnight?
"Girl, you've misunderstood." Presis waved her hand. "I wasn't the one who found her."
"What do you mean?" Hebe frowned.
"It's simple. I need to use connections to get from London to Blanckug. And once there, I must obey the laws established by Blanckug's ruler, which means purchasing a piece of land." Presis explained, "You know I need land to build my workshop, and just last night, I received word—"
"Someone was selling a large piece of land in Blanckug at a reduced price. After learning I was in London, they asked me to discuss the specific arrangements with their agent."
Presis gestured toward Mordred with her chin. "She's the seller's agent."
What a bizarre development... Hebe stopped herself mid-sentence and reorganized her thoughts.
"So the agent is coming with us to Blanckug too?"
If they were signing a contract, then they should settle the account after signing it. Why would the agent need to come along?
"Ahem, it's like this." Mordred raised her hand somewhat awkwardly.
Hebe narrowed her eyes. "Go ahead."
"The principal is my mother." Mordred's eyes shifted slightly to the left. "She is currently on her way to London... but Blanckug has a rule: 'Only landholders may reside here.' I think Mother will return to Blanckug sooner or later."
"So before that happens, I want to reserve a piece of land for her, so she won't find herself locked out when she wants to return."
Hebe's gaze instantly turned solemn with respect.
What a filial child.
Countless classic tales of filial devotion immediately surfaced in the young shop owner's mind, and the way she looked at Mordred became filled with respect and admiration.
"Since that's the reason, I have no objections." Hebe extended her hand toward Mordred. "Nice to meet you. What should I call you?"
Mordred stared at that hand, her gaze wavering.
Everything she had said was true. But withholding part of the truth could still achieve the effect of a lie. That was the warning of a certain Court Sorcerer.
Morgan had instructed her to remain at the restaurant and not act rashly, but Mordred had never been a well-behaved child.
Mother, but I have my own thoughts, my own things to do. Mordred made her decision. I cannot turn a blind eye to the treasure I have searched so hard for... So forgive me, Mother. I will disappoint your expectations once again.
She had indeed followed Morgan's instructions, signed a contract with Presis, and transferred ownership of the land; she had also indeed used that reason to buy back part of the land.
But Mordred had done this for herself.
Mordred reached out her hand. "Just call me Little Mo."
Whether Hebe was Merlin or not, she had no intention of letting her go.
After getting into the car, Hebe saw a green lynx sprawled across the passenger seat.
"What's this cat called?" Hebe asked.
"Kal'tsit," Presis answered.
Hebe kept her expression under control and reached out to pinch the lynx's cheek.
Kal'tsit lazily opened her eyes and slapped away Hebe's restless hand.
Before you continue