Preparation for the Promotion Ritual

"Sulfur, salt, mercury."

At dusk, Sherlock Holmes was in his room, checking the materials needed for tonight's Promotion Ritual.

Wearing a monocle, he did his best to decipher the words he had scrawled on the labels of the various bottles and jars.

Sherlock muttered under his breath as his fingers brushed over the bottles and jars on the shelf. "Sanctified Silver Powder, Blessed Holy Water, a bundle of Dried Black Sage, an unused White Crystal, six new Red Candles..."

Meanwhile, in the Silver and Tin Palace.

Princess Isabel was also pacing nervously around her room.

She kept muttering and reciting the names of the materials required for the Promotion Ritual, visibly restless.

"And Clove Essential Oil, Cinnamon Essential Oil, Cypress Essential Oil, Benzoin Essential Oil... and Helichrysum Essential Oil, Chamomile Essential Oil... and... and..."

The elven artist Yanis sat nearby, humming as she wrote a melody. Seeing this, she helplessly set down her pen.

"—and ginger, dill, and white bread. Come on... little Isabel, what are you so nervous about? You have to trust your Court Ritualist. They're much more reliable at arranging a ritual than you would be preparing it yourself."

"Yes, I know..."

Isabel murmured, no longer even insisting that people call her Isabel instead of little Isabel.

She felt slightly short of breath and gently gripped the collar of her white gauze dress, as if she wanted to lift it and fan some air inside to ease her nerves—but mindful of the royal family's image and dignity, she did not dare make such a vulgar gesture in front of outsiders.

"Your first advancement will be simple. Don't be nervous."

Yanis coaxed her patiently. "You have to believe in yourself. You're very strong, and your foundation is more solid than most people's. For a first advancement—and a full-moon advancement at that... there should be six or seven people who can advance. So what are you afraid of?"

"...That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

Isabel looked worried. "If six out of nine people advance, but I don't—then if word gets out, it'll bring shame upon the royal family.

"And people will gossip about you, Teacher. They'll speak ill of you. They'll spread all kinds of terrible rumors..."

She had been able to walk the Path of Beauty purely because of Queen Sophia's doting affection. The Avalon royal family's Du Lac clan could normally only choose the Path of Authority.

Yet among the Queen's six grandchildren, the one she favored most was Isabel, the second youngest.

The only one younger than Isabel was her two-year-old little brother.

Isabel had displayed exceptional artistic talent from a very young age.

When she was only four, she accompanied the Queen to hear the opera Lulu's Magic Flute. Although she did not understand the Stibium Language, she could hum the opera's passages after hearing them just once.

Queen Sophia was overjoyed. Before she became queen, she had dreamed of becoming an opera master. Even after inheriting the throne, she had written several operas in her spare time. She simply had not released them because of her status.

Among all her children, only Isabel had inherited her talent for opera.

For that reason, she overruled all opposition.

She directly made an exception for Isabel, allowing her to enter the Path of Beauty and formally study "art."

The Path of Beauty was the path of harmony and art, flow and eternity.

The key technique of the Path of Beauty was "art."

Opera, music, painting, sculpture, theater, dance, and poetry all fell under the mystical arts of the Path of Beauty.

Art itself was mystical. Without exception, all great masters of art had been pioneers of the Path of Beauty.

Just as the key technique of the Path of Authority was "leadership"—the monarch's art of ruling subordinates and directing others to obey was likewise mystical.

If one wanted to deepen their path, specializing in just one art was certainly not enough.

Perhaps because she possessed a quarter elven bloodline, Isabel's talents lay in singing and dancing.

And once one stepped onto a path, one had to walk it firmly to the end.

Once an extraordinary being entered a path, they would be tormented by the desire to rise higher. They would become obsessed with delving deeper and climbing higher. The longer they stayed in place, the easier it was for them to become insane.

It was like an outstanding young person in some field who possessed a little talent but could not be called a genius. They often felt despair in the face of true talent—a soul-shaking chasm that people outside the field could not perceive, and that could only be understood after delving deeply into it.

When this sense of powerlessness and shock occurred on an extraordinary path, it would drive a person mad.

The Path of Beauty emphasized perceiving the beauty of the world and comprehending its harmony and eternity... which made it even easier to go mad.

The masters of art who specialized in a single discipline had almost all gone insane without exception.

That was why the Queen had specially invited Master Yanis to teach Isabel painting, sculpture, and musical composition.

It was the safest route for advancement.

Isabel would not inherit the throne anyway. Since the Queen was happy, she might as well let the child play.

That was what everyone else had thought at the time.

However, the good times did not last.

Starting more than a decade ago, the Avalon royal family suddenly began falling ill one after another.

At first, they suspected poisoning. Later, they confirmed that someone was casting a powerful Lineage Severing Curse—a persistent and potent curse that even the Church's Illumination Spell could not completely dispel, and that even the Sacred Bones of past sages could not protect them from.

A curse that could not be dispelled or resisted even with an entire nation's strength could only have been cast by another nation.

Who else could it be? It could only be the Stibium Kingdom.

Although Avalon had no evidence, common sense alone made it clear... only the Stibium Kingdom could possess Ritualists capable of using a ritual of such strength.

Thus, several years ago, after the first member of the royal family was dragged to death by an incurable curse, Avalon and Stibium officially became enemies.

To this day, of Isabel's father's generation, only her father remained alive.

Half of her own generation had already died of illness as well.

Only Isabel's eldest brother, Isabel, and her two-year-old younger brother remained.

Without doing anything, she had inexplicably become the Avalon Kingdom's third heir.

—If she truly inherited the throne, a major problem would arise.

Avalon revered the Path of Authority throughout the nation, yet its New Queen would have no affinity with the Path of Authority at all.

She was currently the third heir, but no one knew whether she might suddenly become the first. Being third was already a very dangerous position.

Isabel had done nothing wrong, and Master Yanis even less so. Yet because circumstances had changed, rumors had even begun circulating among the kingdom's higher-ups that the Stibium Kingdom's goal was to place Isabel on the throne—allowing it to throw Avalon into chaos from within.

All the kingdom's privileged classes, every extraordinary being in its government departments, and even most of its soldiers came from the Path of Authority. How could a queen of the Path of Beauty possibly receive their absolute loyalty? Isabel was under immense pressure.

Any mistake she made would be endlessly magnified, then criticized and condemned.

But she did not want to blame them either.

She could sense that they were under great pressure as well, and were deeply worried about that possible future.

She could also understand that their concerns were valid—if she truly became queen in the future, Avalon might indeed fall into prolonged chaos. Yet she truly had no affinity with the Path of Authority... She had tried many times, but she genuinely could not learn it.

All she could pray for was that her brothers would stop dying.

But there was nothing she could do. That was not something she could decide.

She could only follow the rules in everything she did, quietly doing her best—leaving no opportunity for others to find fault with her.

For that reason, she had not used her royal privileges. Instead, she had entered university and lived alongside the other students.

Only after passing the comprehensive assessments for all three semesters of her freshman year did she become an extraordinary being through the proper channels. Before that, she had strictly limited the scope of her studies, learning only the more peripheral aspects of the art technique, the parts that ordinary people could also touch upon... She had then continuously honed her fundamentals without ever studying anything related to extraordinary power.

She had endured thirteen full years of foundational training.

It had been dull and meaningless, painful enough to make her want to vomit. But she had still persevered.

Because she wanted to show that she would not casually use her royal privileges.

She hoped that this would make those voices of discontent disappear.

She had tried to downplay her identity as a "princess," hoping people would see her only as an ordinary person, rather than the kingdom's third heir.

Only now did she suddenly realize—

Perhaps she had never truly become an "ordinary person."

She was still being served, spoiled, and helped by others.

While every other extraordinary being prepared their own rituals, she could only sit to the side and drink tea. The royal Court Ritualist would handle everything for her. She did not need to do anything—she did not need to worry about drawing her Ritual Array incorrectly, nor fear that inferior or counterfeit materials would cause the ritual to fail.

"...I'll do it myself after all."

Isabel made up her mind.

She bowed deeply to the Ritualist. "Master Osborn, I'm very sorry... It's not that I don't trust you. I just thought... perhaps it wouldn't be right for me to simply watch from the side."

Isabel did not know how to describe the nervousness and anxiety in her heart.

But whenever she watched the white-haired Ritualist prepare the ritual for her, she felt restless.

It was as if she had made a mistake, yet someone else had snatched it away and taken the blame for her.

Her older brothers and sisters had always doted on her. Whenever she accidentally broke something, they would be the first to admit fault.

Although Isabel had not been scolded back then, she had still felt restless.

—Just like she did now.

As if something were tormenting her heart.

"Please let me prepare the Promotion Ritual myself."

Princess Isabel repeated herself.

Her voice became clearer and was no longer as timid as before. "You can assist me from the side, Master Osborn."

The white-haired Ritualist beside her stroked his beard cheerfully and nodded with a smile.

"Very well, my little princess. Indeed, matters like this... should be handled personally. That's what gives them a sense of ritual.

"Remember this feeling well, Your Highness. Your first entry into the Dream Realm, your first contact with the other eight paths. Truly leaving behind the identity of an 'Apprentice' and becoming a genuine extraordinary being—"

Meanwhile.

At Moriarty Manor, Iver climbed out of bed, clutching his forehead.

He actually had not slept enough.

But his spiritual intuition told him that if he did not wake up now, he would miss something important—so he forcibly roused himself.

The sunset outside was sinking.

With trembling hands, Iver struck a match. It took several attempts before it finally caught fire.

Trembling, he lit the white candle beside his bed—clearly the "healing potion" Oswald had prepared.

Iver grabbed the flame in one hand. Feeling vitality continuously surge from the candle flame into his body, he slowly let out a sigh of relief.

Fortunately... because Iver was interested in the occult, his room was stocked with all kinds of materials. This would not delay matters.

As the saying went, "Poor students have the most stationery."

Although he did not know how to use them, he had bought anything that could be bought.

...It was just that he had not eaten all day. Hunger made his heart flutter.

He would find a way to fill his stomach first, then hurry back to prepare the Promotion Ritual.

The follow count has passed five thousand, and the kitty is very happy—so today's update is over eight thousand words!!! You won't be able to see the chapter comments posted today, but I can see them in the backend, so if you want to complain about anything, or if you spot typos or awkward sentences, feel free to say so anyway! If nothing unexpected happens, things should return to normal tomorrow~