When the Burial Agency Came Knocking While I Was Sleeping

The winter afternoon sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, falling softly across the cold, deserted room. Dust motes suspended in the air glittered with golden light, coating the surroundings in a fantastical, mysterious, and brilliant glow. For a moment, it seemed as though one had entered heaven.

Dozens of miniature metal stars revolved at a steady pace along interwoven bronze tracks, as if following some kind of law. Beneath the dome formed by the star tracks, a white-haired young man lay curled up on a soft sofa, deeply asleep, while the sunlight seemed to drape him in a thin veil of gold.

Time seemed to have stopped within this space. No matter how many years passed outside, this place remained unchanged.

—Then, the miniature metal stars abruptly stopped moving.

An antique ebony grandfather clock standing beside the wall began to run. Its pendulum trembled slightly, its swings growing wider and wider as it emitted heavy, solemn, monotonous clanging.

The hands ticked onward, and when they reached the hour, the brass chamber within let out a deep, clear, melodious chime.

The young man's eyelashes fluttered slightly, but he soon went still again. After a short while, he reluctantly opened his eyes. Still groggy, he glanced around. Seemingly unaccustomed to the glaring sunlight, he instinctively shut his eyes again before slowly trying to open them.

His azure eyes resembled the rippling blue sea beneath the sun, or crystalline sapphires. Yet beneath that clarity lay an unfathomable depth.

"Ahh~~ Hah~~"

He yawned, then struggled up from the sofa and stretched lazily. His dull gaze swept over the books spread across the coffee table. After rubbing his eyes and spacing out for a while, he finally woke up completely.

He looked to be around twenty years old. Snow-white, disheveled hair covered his eyes, and his skin had grown pale from years without sunlight, yet that pallor possessed the texture of porcelain.

A loose silk robe draped over his lean, sturdy body. Every muscle seemed sculpted by a master artist. Bathed in the afternoon sun, he looked like a statue of a beautiful youth from ancient Greece.

Glancing at the grandfather clock faithfully performing its duty, Michael realized he had only slept for a few months. He slowly closed his eyes again and sank his consciousness into his body. A hazy yet incomparably brilliant and resplendent starlight resided within him, while pale-blue ribbons of magical energy gathered from all directions and silently merged into it.

Like seawater surging into the Returning Ruins, yet never able to fill it.

Secondary magical energy charge: 13%.

A certain sensation surfaced in his heart. Michael opened his eyes and gazed out the window with a lost expression.

Two hundred years! Two hundred years!! Two hundred years!!!

Important things had to be said three times. More than two hundred years had already passed, yet this so-called secondary magical energy charge had only reached thirteen percent. At this rate, it would take at least another fifteen hundred years to reach one hundred percent. How many fifteen hundred years did a person have in a lifetime?!

Ah... wait. Michael suddenly remembered that he was no longer human. If he just kept lying low, fifteen hundred years did not seem all that long. After all, for a Dead Apostle with a nearly endless lifespan, fifteen hundred years truly was not such a long time.

Just look at those Progenitors of Dead Apostles. Which of them had not lived for several thousand years? They were like old turtles.

No, what kind of nonsense am I thinking about...

He shook his head, throwing the jumble of thoughts from his mind. Perhaps because he had just awakened, his thoughts were still somewhat scattered. But the Star Orbit Circuit had stopped operating and awakened him from his slumber. Could something unexpected have happened?

Michael counted on his fingers and activated the Astrology Circuit. A trace of unease rose in his heart. It seemed that some danger was approaching him.

But this castle was a safe house he had painstakingly built. It could even isolate the Counter Force's influence and was comparable to the legendary Avalon. How could anyone possibly discover him hiding here?

No one should be able to find me... right?

Michael's heart began to pound, as though thousands upon thousands of Divine Beasts were leaping about inside it. At the same time, he felt as if he had become an old general covered in death flags, singing and dancing on a stage, liable to die suddenly at any moment.

The explosive sound from outside confirmed his unease.

Boom—!

Layer upon layer of barriers shattered. A massive shadow nearly two hundred meters long blotted out the sun, and a gigantic claw descended. Ancient trees requiring several people to embrace were snapped in half. Howling hurricanes swept up the earth and slammed it heavily against the castle's outer walls. The ancient building, constructed during the Tudor Dynasty, shook violently as though on the verge of collapse. Fist-wide cracks spread in every direction like a spiderweb.

"This is... the King of the Continent?!"

Seeing the whale-like magical beast, he instinctively jumped to his feet, his face turning livid.

"It's actually that bastard Merlin Solomon. How did he find this place?!"

Michael could not make sense of it, but those were secondary concerns. What mattered was that he was absolutely no match for Merlin right now.

The starlight within him was continuously absorbing the magical energy around him, leaving him with pitifully little magical energy he could wield. It was enough to bully weak modern magi, but if he fought an opponent on Merlin's level...

There would be no outcome other than being mercilessly ground into the floor.

However, Michael had long prepared for this. He raised a hand and snapped his fingers sharply. The surrounding space shifted, and when it reappeared, he was already in a secret chamber beneath the castle. At the center of an extremely complex Magic Circle, a fist-sized sapphire floated in midair, absorbing magical energy drawn from the Ley Line.

The gemstone had a perfect teardrop shape. Tens of thousands of smooth facets reflected the light, making it appear ever clearer and more transparent. It contained an oceanic amount of magical energy; if detonated, its impact would rival an explosion of ten thousand tons of TNT.

Natural gemstones all contained magical energy to some extent and could be used as mediums for magecraft. In the Mage's world, families specialized in studying Jewel Magecraft, while the Clock Tower even had a dedicated Mineralogy Department that researched minerals rich in magical energy.

Out of a desire to mess around, Michael had named this sapphire the Tear of the Goddess, in memory of his once wild and unrestrained youth.

Yet even this much magical energy could only sustain Michael's body for one month, and that was on the condition that he did not cast any magecraft. Therefore, before the magical energy within the gemstone ran out, he had to find a new source to replenish it.

Michael clenched the Tear of the Goddess in his hand. The surrounding structure shook violently, dust pouring in through the cracks. The magical energy he could draw from the Ley Line became increasingly thin. Clearly, the enemy had come prepared and had sealed off the Ley Line as well.

The remaining magical energy gathered in Michael's hand. His azure eyes lit up, and tangible ribbons of magical energy coiled around his body, scattering specks of radiance.

"Mitte."

Accompanied by the short, forceful magecraft incantation, the ribbons of magical energy spun at high speed and radiated a blinding glow. When the light faded, Michael had vanished from the room.

"That guy actually escaped. It seemed to be some unknown form of spatial magecraft. But he ran so decisively... that really was unexpected."

Not long after Michael left, a delicate-looking young man dressed in white monastic robes entered the room. He carefully sensed the lingering traces of magecraft before turning his gaze toward the ruined Magic Circle.

All ten of his fingers wore rings. The concealed magical energy within them proved that these exquisite rings were far more than mere ornaments.

This seemingly harmless young man was none other than the Merlin Solomon Michael had mentioned—the fifth member of the Burial Agency and the Dead Apostle 20th Progenitor.

"Considering he is The Fool, it is hardly strange for him to possess such strength. It seems this operation has failed."

Behind him, a burly man with spiky hair crouched down to inspect the remnants of the Magic Circle on the floor. He adjusted his glasses. Though he muttered about failure, a long-lost interest gleamed in his lazy eyes.

"This Magic Circle... I have never seen a design like this before. Is it some lost Age of Gods Magecraft Foundation?"

"I have not seen it either. But given The Fool's accomplishments in magecraft, creating an entirely new Magecraft Foundation would not be too difficult."

Merlin shook his head lightly. The Fool and his organization had caused the Holy Church no small amount of trouble. Although he could not be bothered with such matters, the Burial Agency belonged to the Holy Church, and they were generally the ones tasked with dealing with this sort of nuisance.

"So, in short, he is a troublesome opponent, right?"

The spiky-haired man scratched his head in frustration and muttered, "Sigh— I am just a driver. I thought this would be a simple extermination mission, but I never expected it to become such a hassle..."

"Mr. Dawn..."

Merlin looked at the spiky-haired man grumbling away, seemingly wanting to say something but stopping himself.

"I know, I cannot join the fight, so I should go do logistics work. Actually, odd jobs are not bad. They are just a little tiring, but living alone in peace is the life I have always dreamed of. That would be good for everyone, would it not?"

The spiky-haired man sighed, making no attempt to hide his aura of a washed-up middle-aged man. He was a thoroughly pickled salted fish.

"Well, your happiness is really... simple enough."

Merlin hesitated for a moment, changing what he had intended to say into a more tactful phrasing.

"Since this extermination failed, can I go back to working in logistics now?"

The spiky-haired man looked at Merlin with eyes full of anticipation.

"Yes."

Merlin felt a vein throb fiercely at his brow. He raised a finger to rub between his eyebrows and took a deep breath.

"Great, then I will head back and report in first."

The spiky-haired man abruptly stood up, overjoyed. Though he knew Merlin would definitely agree, hearing it said aloud was still exhilarating.

"Oh, right. I found something upstairs that should be of some help to you, Lord Merlin."

As he reached the doorway, he suddenly stopped his cheerful steps and slapped his forehead, as though he had just remembered something. He pulled a book from his robes and handed it to Merlin.

"This is...?"

"I found it in the living room upstairs. It seems to be some kind of magecraft book, though unfortunately, I could not understand any of it."

The spiky-haired man waved casually and handed this priceless magecraft tome to Merlin without the slightest hesitation, then departed the underground chamber with considerable flair.

"New Principles of Astrology."

Merlin glanced at the title of the magecraft tome. After pondering for a moment and confirming that no magecraft traps had been placed on it, he opened it and began reading its contents. Soon, a curve appeared upon his youthful face.

"It really is an interesting book."