Miss Hebe is Fighting Her Way Out of the Lostbelt!

This is a little cat with a mind of its own. Hebe looked forward to the day Presis's technology would advance enough to turn Kal'tsit into a human.

Presis held the steering wheel steady, and the van drove without a bump. Hebe glanced to her side. Mordred was gazing out the window, lost in thought, wondering what was on her mind.

Little Mo... Heh, I really don't know what I'm thinking. Hebe chuckled self-deprecatingly and opened the book in her hands.

It was a "World History."

Hebe opened its title page and saw Egypt in the table of contents.

She quietly turned to that page and read the text.

"Nitocris, the last pharaoh of the Sixth Dynasty of Ancient Egypt. During the Nineteenth Dynasty, this female pharaoh was regarded as a deity and widely worshipped. There are numerous murals and sculptures depicting her..."

"Khnum, the ram-headed god worshipped since the Second Dynasty. During the Nineteenth Dynasty, his worship was suppressed by Ramesses II. It is said that Ramesses II's grand vizier, Hesharif, referred to himself as Krum..."

"Ramesses II, known as 'Ozymandias' during the Ptolemaic Dynasty. The most authoritative pharaoh in Egyptian history, he led religious and political reforms. The former primarily involved the suppression of polytheism, while the latter involved his brief abolition of the pharaoh system and his self-coronation as the 'Red King'."

"According to ancient Egyptian legends, Ramesses II ruled the entire land for about three hundred years. Modern historians, through archaeological dating, estimate Ramesses II's reign to be around thirty to fifty years. Towards the end of his reign, Egypt's climate underwent drastic changes, leading to a prolonged drought in the Nile River, causing cities and settlements like Thebes and Abydos to be abandoned... Ultimately, climate change led to Ramesses II's death in distress, and the Nineteenth Dynasty began its decline from its peak..."

Hebe gazed at the words for a long time, her long eyebrows trembling slightly.

Those resolute words, those simple faces, those magnificent struggles, those silent farewells, had all become entries in the annals of history.

That was already ancient history from three thousand two hundred years ago.

Hebe turned to the next page.

"Imhotep, a high priest in ancient Egyptian legends. One account states that during the Nineteenth Dynasty, in the time of Ramesses II, he was a famous scribe who oversaw the construction of Nile irrigation projects and the renovation of temples in Memphis and Heliopolis..."

"Imhotep's reputation in history is polarized. In places like Heliopolis, Abydos, and Thebes, she was widely worshipped as the 'resurrected Thoth'."

"However, around Memphis, Imhotep was regarded as a treacherous minister who instigated rebellion and ultimately caused the Red King's sudden death, and was eventually subjected to the 'Scarab Punishment'."

"These two accounts coexisted for a long time. Recent academic research suggests that Imhotep may not have been a real person, but a title passed down through generations of an organization. This might explain why Imhotep's image differs so drastically in two different legends."

Hebe froze for a moment, then sighed with a smile.

Sunlight fell on her profile, revealing a detached helplessness.

Mordred, who had been secretly watching Hebe, turned her head away without a word. She was afraid that if she kept watching, she would truly mistake Hebe for the court mage from her memories.

The lynx, lying on the seat, yawned and buried its head again, falling asleep.

51 Who is the Lord of Blanckug!

The road to Blanckug was quite winding.

This was after recent repairs. It was said that before World War II, one needed considerable luck to traverse these treacherous waters to reach Blanckug.

Blanckug is a large island formed of gray rock, located at the southwest corner of Cornwall. Historically, it had been invaded by foreign enemies multiple times.

During the Roman invasion of Albion, the island was used for tin mining and troop deployment—a tradition the Romans might have learned from their arch-enemies, the Carthaginians.

For a very long time, Blanckug was considered a "frontier." Unlike frontiers closer to the Wasteland, like Cape of Birds, Blanckug was called a frontier because the laws of the Wasteland and the laws of the waking world coexisted there.

Considering that Atlantis no longer existed, Shangri-La could not be found, and the Land of Peach Blossoms was lost, places like Blanckug became the best refuges for those seeking seclusion.

After that, more and more recluses went to Blanckug. The Orthodox Church also set up a presence there, and the kings before Arthur attempted to extend their authority here—but it was never long-lasting.

The Orthodox Church preached the triple worship of the Great Mother Goddess, the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Son. Of course, they also routinely promoted the faith of Skyflint and the Brilliant Twins. The Orthodox Church at that time was very inclusive in its actions.

After the Rose War, the island of Blanckug became independent from the feudal system of Cornwall.

At that time, a mysterious team of scholars came from the hot lands of Egypt. They spoke of their precursor, who had a cross-historical agreement with King Arthur.

King Arthur promised to fulfill the agreement, so she enfeoffed the island of Blanckug, granting the honor of Lord of Blanckug to the "Lord of the Silent Bookstore."

However, it should be noted that only the "Lord of the Silent Bookstore" possessed this authority, and the only Silent Bookstore Lord recognized by Arthur was that Imhotep.

At that time, the scholars of the Silent Bookstore looked at each other, bewildered. For them, Imhotep had lived more than twenty centuries ago.

As they grew restless, King Arthur offered them a way out: although the true Lord of the Silent Bookstore had long since passed away, they could elect their own proxy.

After much deliberation, the scholars decided to follow King Arthur's suggestion, and thus the first administrator of the Silent Bookstore was born. Their authority derived from the Lord of the Bookstore, and they could enact laws to be implemented on the island with a majority vote in the council.

These laws were notarized by Lord Twilight and protected by the three magistrates of the Orthodox Church. No one could disregard them.

The twelfth administrator disappeared after World War II, and no one could confirm whether he was still alive.

Of course, Hebe knew that whether he was alive or dead, it would not prevent her from inheriting the Silent Bookstore.

Pale gray clouds churned on the horizon. A road wound its way towards the center of the town. After parking the car, Presis gestured for Hebe to follow her.

"In Blanckug, apprentices are not as reserved as they are in London. They will reasonably apply the skills they possess to their daily lives."

Hebe followed Presis's gaze. The main street of the town was lined with shops displaying various signs. They looked no different from those in London, but upon closer inspection, one could notice extraordinary details.

Blacksmiths would softly chant praises to Skyflint by their furnaces. They disliked using tools and preferred to reach directly into the scorching furnace with their hands to grab the raw metal.

Street performers would strum their strings in a special way, producing music that was unique and profound, making one want to linger indefinitely, even for a lifetime.

Presis stopped in front of a large, blue-purple house and smiled proudly. "This will be my residence in Blanckug from now on."

The large house was three stories high. Its bronze doors were tightly shut, and dark velvet curtains completely covered the windows, giving a sense of security.

Mordred's destination was nearby—a small tavern in town.

The tavern wasn't very large, and its curtains and windows were stained brown. It was clear that Morgan hadn't taken good care of it after buying it.

Fortunately, the tavern was well-stocked with all sorts of ingredients and seasonings, enough to make a hearty dinner.

"Please wait a moment."

When it came to her cooking skills, a faint pride and confidence appeared on Mordred's face.

It was impossible not to be proud, after all, the cooking skills of everyone at the Round Table were questionable, and Arthur was someone who ate almost anything...

Mordred was initially similar to Arthur, but the Nightmare Sage was someone who wouldn't compromise if they could eat well.

Therefore, under the Sage's influence, Mordred quickly surpassed her teacher...

Before long, an enticing aroma wafted from the kitchen stove.

Hebe sat at the dining table, wondering if Little Mo was an apprentice of the path under the rule of the Cup.

Since it wasn't a formal banquet, Mordred didn't follow the usual order of serving dishes.

Amber-colored pumpkin soup steamed, french fries exuded a tempting golden hue, onion rings were arranged on a plate, fried egg balls paired with cream, and the main course was zucchini and mushroom-baked potatoes.

To be honest, Albion's cuisine was limited to just a few dishes, but the dishes Little Mo made managed to make the most of the ingredients. In Albion, a land accustomed to wasting food, this was exceptionally rare.

Mordred stood behind the counter, slowly enjoying a bowl of stewed vegetables. It was less about filling her stomach and more about using the opportunity to openly gaze at Hebe.

"Does it suit your taste?" Mordred softly asked for Hebe's opinion after the plates were cleared.

"It was delicious." This was the honest truth.

Hebe had initially worried that coming to Blanckug would be an abuse of her taste buds.

Now, it seemed, that worry was unnecessary.

"Then that's wonderful."

Mordred gave a modest bow, her proud and pleased demeanor making Hebe feel a vague sense of familiarity.

I wonder how many faces Little Mo hides under her illusions... Hebe walked calmly in the cold wind, no one being able to tell what she was thinking at that moment.

She quickly crossed the entire small town, a dense fog blocking her path. Within the gray mist, the silhouette of a bridge cast in metal faintly appeared.

No one was supervising the bridge—beyond this point was the Silent Bookstore, and for the island's residents, it was best not to interact with the Silent Bookstore rashly.

Hebe walked forward.

The dense fog parted to both sides like a living thing, closing in again after she passed. The dark metal long bridge seemed to have no end, and the sound of the tide came from beneath her feet.

Finally, a colossal silhouette emerged from the fog. Hebe raised her head, gazing at the entirety of the Silent Bookstore slowly unfolding before her.

At the bridge's edge stood a low guardhouse, and behind it, two equally tall towers stood side by side.

One had a pale white exterior, while the other was inlaid with colored glass.

"These two towers seem like they'd be vulnerable to aircraft..." Hebe thought.

The fog had completely dispersed at some point. Hebe's gaze passed over a verdant garden and ivory-colored colonnades, settling on the castle-like main building. Compared to the main building, the twin towers seemed small.

The Silent Bookstore stood silent in the sea fog, solemnly observing the newcomer. Hebe returned the gaze with one that was even older, even more ancient, a time when even the Atlas Institute operated under the name Silent Temple.

Then, the gates of the Silent Bookstore slowly opened, welcoming its true master—not an administrator elected by the council, but the genuine owner.

Hebe walked over and saw a sheepskin scroll placed on a stone pedestal at the entrance.

She took out a pen and signed her name on it with fluid strokes.

The sheepskin scroll quickly burned away.

Dong, dong, dong!

From the highest tower, a bronze bell began to chime automatically. With the bell's toll, the dense fog that had enveloped the Silent Bookstore for half a century rapidly dissipated.

All the residents of Blanckug realized one thing.

—The new lord of Blanckug had been born.

52 New Lostbelt and New Employee

The number of bell tolls represented different meanings.

Normally, three tolls indicated the arrival of an important visitor, six tolls signified a change in council seats, nine tolls announced the appointment of a new librarian, and twelve tolls... twelve tolls meant someone in the council had passed away.

Oh dear, you didn't actually think that the more times the bell rang, the more noble the person's status was, did you?

The scholars who founded the Silent Bookstore had never set up tolls corresponding to the master of the bookstore, so the number of tolls depended entirely on Hebe's personal mood.

Therefore, this time, the bell only rang nine times.

Those involved also began to take action.

Agravain, who was en route to Cornwall, received an urgent imperial edict from the Throne Hall, requesting him to meet and discuss matters with the new administrator of the Silent Bookstore.

Meanwhile, the current Dean of Atlas, in the hot lands of Egypt, received an order from the Protector, demanding that a special envoy be dispatched to the Silent Bookstore "to confirm its continued adherence to the precepts of Silence."

The genius alchemist named Ziyuan, after careful consideration, was ordered to plan a voyage to Albion at a later date.

Hebe, of course, was unaware of these series of changes. She was walking through this ancient building, observing every corner with a cautious eye.

The Silent Bookstore's predecessor was a monastery and a church. A branch of the Orthodox Church was active here for a long time until they dispersed for various reasons. Before King Arthur, most monarchs sent their trusted confidantes to reside here. After renovations by successive administrators, it now has water, electricity, and internet.

Therefore, while the building retains its religious style, it also possesses secular aesthetics and considerable practical value.

Hebe didn't dislike the tall towers, gardens, herb gardens, and sanatoriums, nor the rooms of various sizes. Ultimately, this was her own property, so why would Hebe be dissatisfied?

But she soon realized a problem: the Silent Bookstore was simply too, too large for just one person.

In the past, beneath the administrator, there were six directors. These seven individuals (sometimes more than seven) formed the Island Council, making decisions that could affect the entire community of apprentices.

"Perhaps I should hire some new employees..." Hebe mused as she strolled through the verdant botanical garden.

This botanical garden was located behind the twin towers, to the right of the cloistered courtyard. The vegetation here was rampant, the grass whispering in the wind, and the long-neglected central fountain had long since dried up. Yet, Hebe could still imagine how scholars and visitors of the past held salons and shared meals here.

There were three other gardens like this one, and the number of rooms within the bookstore was even greater.

Hebe's urge to recruit new employees grew stronger.

This thought reached its peak when she entered the atrium—a full forty rooms, all in need of repair and renovation, were laid out before her, each opening its doors to Hebe.

Hebe walked through the spacious foyer with a stiff expression. As she arrived, the lamps lit up one by one, illuminating the colorful stained-glass windows, the dimly red fireplace, and the grand piano with its muted sound.

Hebe ascended the spiral staircase carrying her briefcase. With each new floor she reached, the doors to the rooms would automatically open.

The young woman ascended with a stern face, looking around before returning to the third floor.

There was a reason: the spiral staircase led to a church, and above the church was a five-story tower. This tower was the highest point of the Silent Bookstore, offering a view of all of Blanckug, the turbulent sea, and the distant land of Cornwall.

"Help me..." Hebe thought silently.

One piece of good news was that the rooms on the third floor were not too messy, nor were there any curses or unknown creatures as she might have imagined.

The best room was the bedroom facing the sea. To the left of the room was a dark hardwood bed, and to the right were a fireplace and a plush single sofa. The plaster statue had a gentle and serene expression. A gentle staircase led to a balcony where plants were placed, separated by thick, dark brown curtains.

The next best room was next door, and relatively speaking, this room was the most luxuriously decorated. The walls were adorned with rose-red silk ribbons and tassels. In the center was a large, soft bed. In the corner on the right side of the room, there was a dark chair and a television.