The Real Severity
"Miracles are a very unusual type of power. As far as I know, no one—not even among the current members of the Native Council—is particularly skilled in them."
The path downward could hardly be called a proper staircase. It was just a long plank with wooden strips glued across it at intervals.
As she walked ahead, Su Gao had no objection to Fu Qian's leaps in logic. She shook her head in response.
"Really? Isn't that a little too undignified?"
Fu Qian considered her answer for a moment.
It was true that the Institute of Curses wasn't thriving. Its requirements were strict, promotions depended on luck, and even its former dean had run off.
But the higher-ups in the largest supernatural organization looked down on this kind of power so much?
If his earlier guess was right, this power was practically a trigger for the remnants of a god. Used properly, it would have an astonishing effect.
If the Night Watchers hated this kind of power because they continued the ancient gods' persecution, the Institute of Curses didn't seem to be under much scrutiny.
He couldn't shake the feeling that their attitude toward it was rather ambiguous.
"There's still too little information about this place to reach a definite conclusion. But recently, during some interdepartmental collaborations, I've visited more than one miracle that could persist for a long time."
Fu Qian shared his thoughts without keeping her in suspense.
"I suspect this place might not be located so precisely beneath the academy by coincidence. It may have become connected to this place through some miracle the Institute of Curses has been triggering over the years.
"That would explain not only the coincidence you mentioned, but even why it's specifically beneath the Institute of Curses."
"That does sound