Basement

He thought for a moment, then immediately added:

"This isn't an invitation for you to go on an adventure. I'll handle the work of reinforcing the seal myself; you just need to watch from the sidelines."

"The reason I'm bringing this up to you..." He tucked his pocket watch away: "is mainly to remind you not to stay at school too late recently."

"Does that have anything to do with this?"

"Your current state is rather special." The old gentleman folded his hands over his knees.

"When an ordinary person encounters Vox Mortis, at most they'll have a headache for a few days after getting home and have a few nightmares.

Perkins was terrified, but he was fine after two weeks of rest.

To them, interference from Vox Mortis is like a mosquito bite—itchy, but not fatal, and it heals on its own after a while."

"But you are different."

He looked into Richard's eyes very seriously.

"You have already begun to possess a certain degree of Aether affinity and spiritual Perception.

Your practice of the Breathing Technique has established the prototype of an Aether micro-circulation within your body. Although it is still extremely weak, it makes the interference of Aether on you much stronger than it is on ordinary people."

"To use an analogy, an ordinary person is like a stone in front of Vox Mortis. Vox Mortis cannot see the stone, nor does it care to bother with it, but you..."

Mr. Hutton's expression darkened.

"You are a candle in the dark. The flame is small, but in total darkness, even the tiniest bit of light is exceptionally eye-catching."

"Vox Mortis is anchored to the location of its death and cannot move.

But if a living person with Aether affinity enters their range of perception, Vox Mortis will use the faint Aether on you to sustain itself."

"You can think of it as a leech. A leech doesn't produce blood itself; it has to suck your blood to survive."

"Can it be cleared if I get attached to one?"

"Yes, but it's very troublesome." Mr. Hutton shook his head:

"Once you are attached, you certainly won't be able to handle it yourself; you'll have to find a professional to clean it off."

"So, are you telling me not to come, or are you telling me to come?"

The old gentleman chuckled, the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes deepening into furrows.

"I was originally trying to scare you."

"Last time I used the same words to test Lillian, she shook her head like a rattle and said 'no' eight times in a row."

"Well, I'm different from her. I want to go and see."

Mr. Hutton's smile froze.

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious."

"...Why?"

"Two reasons." Richard took his backpack strap off his shoulder and set it on the desk, his body relaxing slightly.

"First, it's only a matter of time before I encounter similar situations in the future.

If I don't even dare to take a look now while I have you to escort me, I'll only be more passive if I run into it alone later."

Mr. Hutton didn't respond, waiting for him to state the second point.

"Second..."

He hesitated, but said it anyway.

"I want to observe the structure of the seal and the things sealed inside at close range. Reading about it in books is not the same as seeing it with my own eyes."

"You remind me of someone." The old gentleman sighed:

"It was many years ago. That person was also afraid of nothing and wanted to see everything with his own eyes."

He tucked his pipe into his breast pocket.

"Later, he became a very formidable person, and then later... he died in the New Continent."

Richard did not reply.

Mr. Hutton stood up straight, picked up his folder, and his expression returned to its usual casualness.

"Friday night at ten o'clock, at the school's back gate. Wear dark clothing."

He took two steps, then turned his head to add one more thing.

"Don't bring any copper accessories; copper interferes with the Aether field.

Although the degree of interference is negligible, it's best not to bring any. If your belt buckle is copper, just wear sweatpants instead."

"Understood."

"And remember to eat your fill before you come. Doing this kind of thing on an empty stomach is prone to causing issues."

He pushed the door open and left.

At nine-thirty on Friday night, Richard slipped out through the back door of his home.

He wore an old, dark gray coat that had been his father's, altered to fit him; it was inconspicuous in the night.

He checked his person twice more to ensure he carried no copper coins or copper items.

His parents had already gone to sleep before he left, and there was no light beneath the crack of his sister's door, so she was likely asleep as well.

There were few pedestrians on the street, and in the distance, the factory chimneys stood in a row like black teeth against the night sky, occasionally spitting out plumes of smoke filled with sparks.

The air in Briston was cleaner at night than during the day; there were fewer night shifts at the factories, so coal smoke emissions dropped significantly.

It took about twenty minutes to walk from his home to the school.

He kept a steady pace, maintaining the rhythmic breathing he used during his training.

When he arrived at the school's back gate, Mr. Hutton was already waiting there.

"You're here?"

"I'm here."

The old man took a key from his leather bag and opened the lock on the back gate.

The two of them walked into the campus.

The windows of the teaching building were pitch black, and the old man in the guard room had gone off duty after nine o'clock.

Mr. Hutton did not head toward the teaching building, instead leading Richard along the path inside the perimeter wall toward the east.

"The seal isn't in the basement," he explained as they walked.

"The basement was only affected by the fallout; the actual location of the seal is deep within the foundation on the east side of the gymnasium, where the old textile mill's boiler room used to be."

"The entrance is in the power distribution room next to the gymnasium."

The power distribution room was a small brick shack with an iron sign hanging on the door that read: "Electrical Hazard, Keep Out."

The lock was opened, and Mr. Hutton walked over to the power distribution box at the far end, crouched down, and pried up the iron plate at the base of the unit.

Hidden so deep, Richard thought to himself with a sense of awe.

Beneath the iron plate was a set of brick stairs that extended downward and vanished into the darkness.

The staircase was barely wide enough for one person to pass, and the walls were coated in a layer of salt frost.

A cold, gloomy aura surged up from the opening.

Richard felt a slight tightness in his chest, and the faint warmth stored within his Seat of the Sun was gently stirred.

He subconsciously glanced at his panel.

[Available Points: 0.15]

It remained completely motionless.

The air was clearly saturated with something that did not belong to the normal world; his intuition was already reacting, which meant the Aether concentration was far higher than on the surface, yet the available points on his panel had not increased at all.

"Can you feel it?" Mr. Hutton looked back at him.

"Yes," Richard nodded, pushing his other thoughts to the back of his mind.

"That's good," the old man said, gripping his leather bag firmly.

"You will become increasingly familiar with these things in the future. Come, stay close to me and don't touch the walls."

He took a lantern from his bag, its flame flickering in the narrow passage.

The further they went, the colder and damper it became.

The tightness in his chest intensified, but the available points on the panel still did not move.

What did this mean?

It meant that no matter how high the concentration of Aether dispersed in the air was, it could not be converted into points.

His golden finger did not absorb "loose" Aether.

At the bottom was a horizontal corridor, with circular silver discs embedded in the walls on both sides every ten steps or so.

"These are markers," Mr. Hutton said without turning his head.

"The seal is a system; the more complete the network, the more stable the seal."

"If a silver disc has a problem, the concealment in the corresponding area weakens. The equipment being moved in the storage room and the anomaly Perkins felt in the corridor correspond to weak links in the outer nodes."

At the end of the corridor was an iron door.

Mr. Hutton hung the oil lamp on an iron hook on the wall, crouched down, and opened his leather bag.

The bag contained several items:

A sealed glass bottle containing a transparent liquid, which Richard guessed was holy water;

A small silver ingot, a very fine engraving chisel, a jar of grayish-white wax, and several silver coins.

"From this point on, do not speak," Mr. Hutton warned. "If you understand, blink once."

Richard blinked once.

Mr. Hutton nodded and snapped his fingers, and the iron door automatically slid inward.