Mr. Death in the Steam World

The day of departure arrived quickly.

"Mr. Marcus!"

Emily's excited shouts came from upstairs.

She and Fils had already occupied the upper carriage, the two of them leaning side by side on the windowsill, looking like two canaries released from their cages.

"Look at that windmill! Lots of pigeons are perched on its blades!"

"What's so interesting about that broken windmill?" Fils' voice followed closely behind.

"Look over there, is that lavender field? No, it shouldn't be this season..."

Moen and Arthur exchanged a glance and tacitly got into the lower carriage.

The coachman waved the reins, and the carriage slowly drove out of the east of the city, gradually moving away from the coal smoke and noise of Kansas City along the official road leading northwest.

The carriage was spacious, with two rows of leather seats facing each other, and a tea set and a plate of almond cookies were even prepared in advance on the coffee table in the middle.

Moen picked up the teapot, poured himself a cup, and then handed it to Arthur.

Arthur shook his head, took the mission notice from his pocket, and spread it out on the coffee table.

"I think I should take another look at this before I leave," he said, pointing to the lines of text in the center of the notice.

"The Academy's Intelligence Department marked the registration date of the ruins as the 17th of last month. The detection familiars discovered abnormal magical fluctuations on the third peak of the northwestern wilderness."

"Detecting familiars?"

"A small magical creature kept by the academy, specifically used for scanning for magical anomalies over a large area."

"Their perception range is much wider than that of human magicians, but the drawback is that it is not precise enough. They can only locate the general area, and we still have to confirm the specific location ourselves."

Moen took a sip of black tea.

Just before they set off, Emily came to the agency to deliver some homemade props, saying they were a welcome gift for the new members of the team.

Moen took the notebook, which supposedly could automatically record handwriting, and casually asked about her magician rank.

"First tier," Emily answered confidently.

"Besides, I'm terrible at fighting. I can't even control the most basic fire magic. Last time I tried to set the fireplace on fire, I almost burned the curtains."

Moen was silent for several seconds before asking his second question:

"Then why couldn't I sense any magical energy fluctuations from you at your manor last time?"

"Oh, this."

Emily pulled a thin silver chain from her collar, with a small, dark green gem the size of a fingernail hanging from the end.

"This is a magical artifact I made myself. It can completely conceal magical fluctuations. Wearing it when I go out will prevent ordinary people from noticing anything unusual."

So, this young lady isn't without magic; she just hides it.

Emily's role in the group is quite clear: a first-tier magician who is not good at combat paired with a genius craftsman who can create magical items.

But is a C-level mission really suitable to be carried out with a team member whose combat ability is almost zero?

Moen put down his teacup and patted Arthur on the shoulder.

"Mr. Arthur, do you have any more detailed information about that site?"

Arthur thought for a moment, then shook his head.

"The location of this ruin was newly discovered by the academy's detection familiars; it is not a known ruin found in some ancient book."

"Therefore, there are no previous exploration records to refer to, nor are there any existing archives to retrieve."

He shrugged, his tone frank.

"All I know is that the lingering aura in the ruins is somewhat similar in style to the temple of the fire god Hesfield; otherwise, I know nothing."

The phrase "I know nothing" coming from the mouth of a seasoned priest of the Holy Church always made Moen feel somewhat uneasy.

"That's how C-level missions are; the unknown is the norm."

"If the academy has already thoroughly investigated the ruins, what are we needed to do? They can just send a few teaching assistants to collect the items."

That made sense, so Moen didn't press the matter further and leaned back in his chair, watching the fields rushing past the window.

To be honest, although he had seen Arthur fight, he still didn't know what level of magician this priest was.

During the demon incident, Arthur single-handedly carved a bloody path through the group of magicians with just his sword; his aura was at least that of a fourth-tier magician.

But during the last dinner party, Moen casually asked about it, and Arthur's answer surprised him.

"Third tier." Arthur was cutting a piece of roast beef at the time. "I am a third-tier magician."

"Third tier?" Moen repeated, his tone clearly doubtful. "Are you sure?"

"Marcus, I entered St. Alice Magic Academy when I was thirty. Before that, I didn't even know how many magic loops there were."

"Compared to Ignis, a young lady from a noble family who has been exposed to magic since she could walk, I started much later."

He tilted his head slightly towards the upstairs area.

"Do you still remember the golden barrier that His Excellency the Bishop deployed back then?"

"That is the Spirit Realm, the most fundamental dividing line between mid-level and low-level magicians."

"A spirit realm requires a deep understanding of one's own magic power and destiny characteristics to form; it's not something that can be mastered simply by practicing a few spells."

"To form a spirit domain, you need at least the fourth rank," Arthur's voice carried a rare hint of self-deprecation, "I'm still far from that."

Arthur said this in a half-joking tone. But Moen always felt that things weren't as simple as they seemed.

How could a third-tier priest stand firm under the oppressive aura of a demon lord? How could he remain unfazed after that young man's dark beam of light brushed past him?

And that day outside the West Warehouse, the violent power surging forth from within him.

There must be other secrets hidden in Arthur Aldridge.

About an hour later, the carriage stopped at the foot of a barren mountain.

"We've arrived!" the driver called out into the carriage.

The four of them got out of the car one after another. Emily looked at the barren mountain in front of her, and the excitement on her face was gradually replaced by confusion.

"Mr. Aldridge, are you sure this is the place?"

"Detecting the coordinates of familiars won't be wrong." Arthur took out a palm-sized compass from his pocket.

"We need to use magical tools to locate it further. Please wait a moment."

He held the compass in his palm and infused it with a wisp of magic. The compass needle began to slowly rotate, and a layer of pale golden patterns appeared on its surface.

A few seconds later, a beam of light shot out from the center of the compass and shone directly onto a rock face on the southern slope of the mountain.

"there!"

The four followed the direction indicated by the beam of light, crossed the scree slope, and arrived at the rock face.

Up close, this rock face is no different from the surrounding mountains, covered in cracks and moss.

However, an anomaly occurred when the compass's light fell on the surface.

In the very center of the rock face, there is an area about the height of a person where light no longer reflects off but disappears.