Chapter 96
[Rank: Enlightenment. The first level of the path to achievement.]
[The Toyokawa bloodline was forgotten once, and Toyokawa Shoko herself was abandoned a second time. In a world forgotten by all, she found her own moon, and among the many puppets chasing fate, her soul was the most resilient.]
Only those forgotten by the world, rejected by their bloodline, and severed ties with the past are qualified to witness the birth of history. (Use her wisely, and you will gain a greater advantage in history.)
Your believers, students, followers, and possessions.
The bow and the keys stop vibrating simultaneously.
Toyokawa Shoko looked at her hands. "I, I..."
Everything before her eyes became blurry and distorted, and her head fell heavily downwards.
Cobalt blue starlight appeared before her eyes, carrying her consciousness upwards.
This time, she was not swallowed by the ocean, but instead rode the bright silver atmosphere and flew straight into the sky of her dreams.
"Congratulations."
Hebe put the violin back on the shelf and helped the unconscious Toyokawa Shoko up.
"Your destiny took a wrong turn from here."
She lifted the unconscious Toyokawa Shoko horizontally, as if carrying a sack, and carried her back to the bedroom bed.
Almost as soon as she finished doing all this, words began to appear in front of Hebe's eyes again.
Another of her followers, Mostima, has also arrived on Blankog Island.
"A bunch of bookworms."
How can such a group of people build Albion well?
Agravain stood with his hands behind his back, his cold gaze sweeping over the vendors, pedestrians, and furnishings on both sides of the main road.
A dark velvet cloak hung down from his shoulders, and a royal sash swayed slightly across his chest.
It doesn't take much time to get from London to Cornwall, but it takes a lot of time to get from Cornwall to Blanckug.
In Agravain's view, the apprentices who could not be controlled by the Special Inspection Department were smoldering embers and unstable elements who would endanger society.
It needs to be thoroughly eradicated.
Before World War II, as the Night Minister, he could have easily enacted compliant laws, but not now—the power of the Celestial Flint has overwhelmed the mortal world, all mysticism is in decline, and every apprentice is someone the country needs to pay attention to.
Their destructive power is limited, but their creativity is considerable.
Therefore, Agravain had to suppress his true nature and try to win over the Special Inspection Department. Only those troublemakers who were too unstable would be dealt with by the Special Inspection Department.
"Mostima".
Mostima, carrying a large bag and a suitcase, swallowed hard, immediately took out a notebook from his coat pocket, and then took out the pen clipped to his chest.
She had an audience with Arthur, the Eternal King, in the Throne Hall, but she had no recollection of what happened.
Mostima's remaining memories only went up to when she returned from Cape of Birds and was summoned by His Majesty Arthur. After that, when she opened her eyes, she saw her superior's boss in front of her, ordering her to accompany him on a journey to Blanckug.
Agravain's mind was like steel, filled only with fanatical faith in the Eternal King and utmost reverence for Merlin. His otherwise monotonous and mechanical daily routine caused Mostima was quite carefree, considerable hardship.
For example, right now.
"I will dictate the following plan, and you will take notes." Agravain's gaze was straight ahead. "The Cornwall Apprentice Society has added three more in the last five years, and their sanctuaries are located at... The identities of the leaders of these societies have all been confirmed, and none of them are above the level of Qiming. The second and third squads of the Special Inspection Department will be dispatched within a week to purge them."
The gray income related to the association of these three apprentices totals... more than twenty items in six aspects, which are temporarily taken over by the Special Inspection Department. Sir Bedivere and Gawain are notified to come and calculate it. After the calculation is approved, it will be transferred to the Throne Hall.
The Moore family, who were in charge of liaising with Blanckug, privately issued new regulations, which, after personal verification, were conducive to clarifying the apprentices' identities and standardizing population transfers... Don't reward them openly, but give them some rewards secretly.
Finally, regarding Blanckug, a new administrator has appeared, but I haven't met with him yet. That's all.
Agravain's voice wasn't lowered, but only Mostima could hear it clearly.
The latter looked distressed and wrote furiously.
Agravain suddenly stopped in his tracks.
His eyes turned extremely cold as he stared intently at a bustling tavern.
Mordred stood in the doorway, holding a pot of stew, staring at him expressionlessly.
As if sensing the uneasy atmosphere, the noise inside and outside the tavern gradually subsided, and the apprentices finally realized that the newcomers were no ordinary people.
Their gazes darted between Mordred and Agravain until they settled on the royal sash on Agravain's chest.
Numerous suppressed and terrified cries rose and fell, and some people trembled and almost wanted to run away immediately.
"Don't be afraid! This is Blankog Island," someone said. "Besides, with so many of us, even in broad daylight, they can't easily kill us all."
It would have been better if he hadn't spoken; the moment he opened his mouth, the fear that had been building up inside everyone intensified, and no one wanted to be the first victim.
Just as this panic reached its peak, Mordred reached out and knocked on the doorframe.
"I'm the tavern owner, and I haven't run away. What are you all panicking about?"
With just one sentence, the atmosphere that was about to turn into a boiling pot instantly returned to silence. Mordred turned his head and swept his gaze across the interior of the tavern. In that instant, the apprentices seemed to see a ferocious lion.
Mordred put down the wooden basin in his hand and gave the commands methodically.
"Everyone left their meal money, then lined up and exited from the other side of the tavern."
Her voice was flat, but it sounded like heavenly music to the apprentices. They all obediently placed their money under their plates and then hurriedly fled like quails.
Mordred only turned around after everyone had left.
"Come in."
Agravain silently strode into the tavern.
"It seems you've made some progress over the years," the aide at the Round Table said coldly. "Mordred."
"If this were twenty years ago, those words would have been enough for me to draw my sword and duel with you."
As if a thin veil had been removed from his face, Mordred's features remained largely unchanged, yet he exuded a more vibrant and heroic air.
And the invisible authority emanating from her appearance.
"Oh."
Mordred shook his head, his heroic spirit undiminished, but his imposing presence suddenly vanished.
"But right now, I'm too lazy to argue with you about these 'trivial matters'... What would you like to eat, Brother Agravain?"
Agravain looked at the menu handed to him, his eyes twitching slightly.
Meanwhile, Mostima, who had been trying her best to remain transparent, was about to suffocate.
What did she hear?
Mordred? That legendary Rebellious Knight, along with the Morgan, the Bewitching Consort, sought to overthrow Albion?
147 Merlin?!
Mostima must begin to confront a problem.
Since His Eternal King His Majesty Arthur is in his prime, and his superior is called "Iron Agravain," it may be more than just a code name.
Mostima had considered this possibility, but Agravain, both in historical records and in legends, was a loyal and solitary subject devoted to the king.
But Mordred was different. As a descendant of the same Morgan, the Bewitching Consort, she was an undisputed rebel—the legend has it that Ser Mordred was the catalyst for the Battle of Camlann.
He is thus recorded in Albion's history as the "Rebellious Knight".
However, in popular folklore, Mordred's image is somewhat different: he is portrayed as someone who suddenly betrays his country and bravely comes to deliver the message, only to be executed by the wise Merlin due to a misunderstanding.
After learning the truth, a remorseful Merlin buried Mordred in the tower and wished him a future rebirth.
Mostima couldn't figure out Mordred's background or why she was a woman.
"Mordred ...I must admit I misjudged him." Agravain closed his eyes slightly, his deep wrinkles smoothing out.
Agravain's expression grew increasingly sorrowful. He reached out and made a few marks on the menu before pushing it back to Mordred.
The latter looked at it, then went back to the kitchen and brought the dish out shortly afterward.
This is a plate of stuffed bitter zucchini.
"Where is Prince Morgan?" he asked.
"Mother should be in London right now," Mordred replied. "And you? What are you doing in Blanckug?"
"I've come to inquire about the August Archon and the Sages," Agravain said. "I know that a new administrator has been appointed at the Silent Bookstore."
"That's true," Mordred said, "But I'm afraid it won't be that easy to get in."
"Reason." Agravain scooped up a mouthful of zucchini, his expression turning cold again. "I have come all the way from London, and I cannot return empty-handed because of your words."
"It's not that I'm stopping you, it's just the way things are," Mordred replied. "The bells announcing the arrival of the Administrator have already rung. If the Administrator were ready to open the gates, the news would have spread all over the island long ago—but have you heard anything about it along the way? No."
"This only shows that the administrator doesn't want to see guests."
This wasn't even a reason, Agravain, his brow furrowing.
Just as he was about to explode, the knocking on the door started again.
The two Knights of the Round Table turned around at the same time and looked at the graceful young woman standing at the door.
The latter had a thick braid, thick glasses perched on her nose, and her slender, straight legs were encased in black stockings under her short skirt, perfectly blending an academic air with youthful energy.
At this moment, she raised her hand and placed it on the door frame; the knocking sound earlier was clearly her doing.
Agravain's clenched fist slowly loosened.
He saw the emblem of the Atlas Institute hanging on the other person's chest.
"A contemporary walking tour of the Atlas Institute?"
The girl's shoulders trembled slightly, and she waved her hands repeatedly. "No, no, I haven't reached that level yet, and the Atlas Institute has no intention of sending a representative. I'm just here on the Dean's orders to inquire about the envoy from the Silent Bookstore."
She placed her hand on her chest and bowed slightly.
"Violet Eltenam Sokaris pays her respects from the Atlas Institute to His Majesty the Eternal King."
Agravain had already stood up. He reached out and took out the medal representing the Throne Hall, hanging it on the sash.
"Agravain, pay homage to Albion, the goddess who protects the Egyptian lands, the Lady Elegy."
After this simple yet solemn exchange of greetings concluded, a menu was placed in front of Ziyuan.
Mordred looked at her. "What would you like to eat?"
Shion shook her head. "I am a vampire, I have no need to eat food."
Agravain's gaze sharpened again as soon as he sat down.
No, even vampires have arrived?
Do you mean that whenever you felt the urge to suck blood along the way, you just grabbed a small bread roll from the roadside to satisfy it?
Fortunately, the most important issue at this moment is not whether Ziyuan has been exploiting Albion, but rather the Silent Bookstore.
Agravain repeatedly emphasized his desire to join the Silent Bookstore, and Zi Yuan shared the same goal.
They cannot leave this place so easily before actually meeting the current administrator.
Mordred shrugged. "But this is Blanckug, Island Council's laws are supreme."
If the administrator doesn't want to see them, then no matter what Agravain and Shion's attitude is, the gate at the end of the Alchemy Bottle Bridge will not be opened.
"We have to try." Agravain lost interest in continuing to argue with Mordred. "Lady Violet, I don't intend to comment further on your next move, but Blanckug is, after all, Albion territory..."
"I know, I know," Ziyuan replied repeatedly.
There's really no need for Agravain to say more.
The land of Albion is steeped in both authoritarianism and reform, creating a very uncomfortable atmosphere for Violet.
A light sea mist lingered over the Alchemy Bottle Bridge.
Further ahead is the Silent Bookstore, the true heart of Blanckug.
Agravain took the Night Minister's Power Ring from his pocket and put it on his index finger.