Miss Hebe Is Charging Through the Lostbelts! [15]

Hebe sat at her desk, her expression shifting by turns.

It would be hard for any normal person to understand just how horrifying it had been for her to hear that one “Merlin.”

“Good thing I didn’t mess around with the pseudo Sword in the Stone when I first got it.” Hebe rubbed at her brow. “Otherwise, with the level of control Arthur has over the Sword in the Stone…”

You wouldn’t want to fire off a beam attack, only to come home and find Arthur already sitting at the dinner table waiting for the meal, would you?

And by the way, tonight’s dinner is you.

Belated fear showed on the young shopkeeper’s face.

She got up to pour herself a glass of water, then sat back down and reopened Secret Histories Simulator. Mostima’s card was still blinking steadily, and when Hebe clicked it open, she found that Mostima was already out of danger.

Then Hebe noticed that beneath Mostima’s card in the slot, there seemed to be a new one.

The moment she clicked on the slot, the blank card lit up by itself.

Invisible, abstract strokes sketched Arthur on the card, wearing a crown and raising a sword aloft. With only a few lines, it captured that regal, valiant face of hers.

Oh, come on. Arthur was still after her!

The corner of Hebe’s mouth twitched as she clicked the card open.

[ACQUAINTANCE “ARTHUR”]

[BY DAY, SHE WALKS THE ROAD OF AUTHORITY; BY NIGHT, SHE WALKS THE PATH OF THE SUN. THE KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE BENEATH HER BEAR HER COMMANDS AND CALL FOR THE DAWN. YET SHE STILL LONGS FOR THE RETURN OF HER QUEEN, FIRMLY CONVINCED THAT AFTER THAT DAY, ALBION WILL WELCOME AN AGE EVEN MORE GLORIOUS—LIKE GOLD, LIKE ETERNITY.]

Narrowing her eyes, Hebe dragged the card into a corner.

Let’s look at some of the other, more interesting features instead.

First was [Found a Society].

Since Hebe now had a believer of her own, the function had unlocked.

“But Miss Mostima is definitely swamped right now, isn’t she?” Hebe narrowed her eyes. “And if I think about it, I’m living in modern society. It’s not like I particularly need a secret society…”

The same went for [Visit the Wasteland].

Hebe did not urgently need anything from the Wasteland, but she still fed a sliver of spirituality into the function and watched lines of text slowly appear.

[YOU CAST A SLIVER OF SPIRITUALITY THROUGH THE SIDE GATE OF THE WASTELAND. SWEPT ALONG BY THE CONTEST OF PASSION AND REASON’S VORTICES, YOU PASS ALONG THE FAMILIAR ROAD OF DREAMS. THE MOON SHINES BRIGHTLY BETWEEN YOUR FEET, GUIDING THE WAY. YOU REMEMBER THIS DREAM. IT IS A ROAD WINDING THROUGH THE HILLS, AND BRIGHT SILVER AIR BEARS YOU ONWARD.]

[YOUR SPIRITUALITY GROPES THROUGH A STRETCH OF SAVAGE DARKNESS. IN THE PROCESS, YOU FORGET EVERY SCRAP OF WISDOM OF NO USE TO YOUR SURVIVAL. KNOWLEDGE WITHOUT USE IS HARMFUL TO THE WORLD. YOU PRACTICE THIS TEACHING. DARKNESS PRESSES DOWN HEAVILY FROM ABOVE, AND YOU CRAWL UPON THE GROUND, CASTING AWAY ENTIRELY THE IDENTITY YOU ONCE HAD AS A HUMAN BEING.]

[IN THE DARK WOODS, IN THIS REALM OF CHAOS, YOU ARE A SNAKE THAT LIVES AMONG THE BUSHES. YOU LIVE ACCORDING TO THE DECREES OF THE CONSUL WHO GOVERNS THE WOODS. TIME HAS NO MEANING HERE; IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE, YOU HAVE ALREADY GROWN TO ADULTHOOD.]

[THE WOODS ARE FOREVER DARK. EYES ARE NOT MERELY SUPERFLUOUS HERE—THEY OFTEN BRING DANGER. YOU DO NOT WISH TO LIVE AMONG YOUR OWN KIND, NOR DO YOU WISH TO SUBMIT TO THE RULE OF THE OTHER LORDS WITHIN THE WOODS. INSTEAD, YOU ROAM THE WOODS FREELY IN SEARCH OF FOOD.]

[THE WHEEL OF SEASONS TURNS WITHOUT REST. YOU HAVE ALREADY GAINED A LITTLE RENOWN WITHIN THE WOODS. MANY OF ITS WEAKER INHABITANTS HAVE BEEN HELPED BY YOU, AND THEY CALL YOU “THE GREAT SNAKE WHO KNOWS THE ROADS OF THE WOODS.”]

[TIME IN THE PRESENT WORLD AND IN DREAMS OFTEN UNDERGOES VIOLENT SHIFTS, AND AS THE BORDER OF THE WASTELAND, THE WOODS ARE AFFECTED MOST SEVERELY.]

[THE HAND OF THE WHEEL OF SEASONS DROPS TO DECEMBER, THE MONTH OF [THE DUKE OF SIGHS]. HEARTHFIRES DWINDLE, FROST LIES STILL AND SILENT, AND UNDER [THE DUKE OF SIGHS]’S INFLUENCE, THE WOODS GRADUALLY SINK INTO DEATHLY STILLNESS. YOU DIG OPEN A ROAD LEADING INTO THE DEPTHS OF THE WOODS, PRESERVING MANY OF THE DWELLERS WHO LIVE ALONG ITS OUTER REACHES. IN AWE, THEY BESTOW UPON YOU THE HONOR-NAME “PATH-OPENING”.]

[YOUR HONOR-NAME GRADUALLY SPREADS FROM THE WASTELAND INTO THE PRESENT WORLD. SOME SORCERERS INVOKE IT IN RITUALS IN ORDER TO OPEN CERTAIN HIDDEN GATES.]

[THE HAND OF THE WHEEL OF SEASONS POINTS TO FEBRUARY, THE MONTH OF “SCAR-FATHER”. WARRIORS WHET THEIR BLADES AND CURSE THEIR ENEMIES LOUDLY AROUND THE CAMPFIRES. MANY LORDS OF THE WOODS BEGIN WARRING AGAINST ONE ANOTHER. YOU ARE NEITHER A LORD NOR SWORN TO ANY LORD. AND SO SEVERAL LORDS SUMMON THEIR FOLLOWERS AND MOVE AGAINST YOU FIRST.]

[YOU SLAY ONE OF THOSE LORDS IN BATTLE, BUT YOUR OWN WOUNDS ARE TOO GRAVE, AND YOU FALL INTO THE SILENT SEA, BECOMING AN UNREMARKABLE FOOTNOTE UNDER “THE DUKE OF SIGHS”’S PEN.]

[ONLY WHEN YOUR SPIRITUALITY PASSES BACK THROUGH THE GATE OF DREAMS DO YOU RECALL WHAT YOU GAINED THERE.]

[GAINED]:
[PATH-OPENING]
EVEN THOUGH THE “GREAT SNAKE WHO KNEW THE ROADS OF THE WOODS” HAS LONG SINCE DIED, ITS HONOR-NAME STILL RETAINS POWER. THIS IS BECAUSE “THE DUKE OF SIGHS” REMEMBERS EVERY NAME IN THE WORLD AND PRESERVES THEM WITH CARE. IN ANY RITUAL, RECITING THAT HONOR-NAME INCREASES THE RITUAL’S SUCCESS RATE.

[ROUTE]:
RETURN TO THE WOODS
THE NEXT TIME YOU ENTER A DREAM, YOU MAY CHOOSE TO BEGIN A NEW BIRTH FROM THE WOODS.

[THE WHEEL OF SEASONS AWAITS ITS NEXT TURN, UNTIL THE FIRST DAY OF NEXT MONTH ARRIVES.]

Spirituality was difficult to quantify. It was closely tied to one’s mental state, the weather, and the environment.

Even a trained apprentice needed at least a week of ritual preparation beforehand before they could attempt deep sleep and carry out a preliminary exploration of the Wasteland.

That kind of exploration usually lasted fifteen minutes to half an hour. Push past that limit, and there was a risk of Drift or outright loss of control.

Afterward, an apprentice still needed at least two to three weeks of rest before their agitated spirit-body could be fully soothed.

And if one also counted the time needed afterward to digest what had been gained in the Wasteland, then even the most gifted apprentice would still need at least half a year before attempting a second Wasteland exploration.

That was under ideal conditions.

If an apprentice happened to encounter a higher being in the Wasteland, stumbled into some special hidden realm, or was pursued by malicious Wasteland denizens… then the treatment and calming required afterward would take much, much longer.

Hebe, meanwhile, had spent only a tiny bit of spirituality to gain a completely lossless dream-entry once a month.

“Now this is a real simulator!”

Hebe closed her eyes, raised both hands, and smiled in blissful delight.

“I’m the real dream-entry god. None of you are…”

With the rich harvest from [Visit the Wasteland] right in front of her, Hebe found herself looking forward a little to [Summoning Protocol]—that is, occult fishing.

[SUMMONING PROTOCOL]

[CAST SPIRITUALITY INTO THE WASTELAND TO RANDOMLY SUMMON DENIZENS FROM IT.]

[THE BLOODLINE YOU POSSESS WILL SLIGHTLY INCREASE YOUR CHANCE OF SUMMONING AN INCUBUS.]

Hebe immediately cried foul. So this was not occult fishing at all—it was occult gacha!

When you played a gacha game, the most you burned was money. Here, what you were burning was your life.

If an ordinary person suddenly lost ten points of spirituality, the mild case was mental exhaustion; the severe case was blacking out on the spot and dropping into sleep.

Apprentices possessed more spirituality, but theirs was far more specialized in its uses, which made it even less something to squander on this sort of thing.

Hebe tentatively fed a little spirituality into the translucent slot to test the waters.

As expected, she reeled in absolutely nothing.

“From now on, I’ll just feed it a little spirituality every day.” Hebe set herself a rule. “Consider it chumming the waters.”

Occult chumming was still chumming.

Then she turned her gaze to [Whispers in the Woods].

“So what kind of talent do you have, then?” Hebe murmured with amused interest.

She clicked open the slot for [Whispers in the Woods], and a paragraph of text appeared.

[THE WOODS LIE AT THE OUTERMOST EDGE OF THE WASTELAND. WHISPER TO THE DARK WOODS AT THE OUTERMOST EDGE OF THE WASTELAND. TRADE ONE OF YOUR SECRETS AT RANDOM FOR ANOTHER. IT MAY BE KNOWLEDGE FROM A HIGHER BEING, OR IT MAY BE NOTHING MORE THAN MEANINGLESS BABBLE.]

“Any secret at all?” A teasing glint flashed through the girl’s deep green eyes.

“Mhm… I actually never finished college.”

The moment the words left her mouth, a translucent card appeared on the dark green desktop.

[SOMEONE’S SECRET]

[ASPECT: WINTER]

[SOMETHING NEVER SPOKEN OF, SOMETHING THAT OUGHT TO BE HARD TO SAY, HAS NOW BEEN PUT INTO WORDS.]

Once that translucent card was placed into the slot, it began to burn away slowly. An invisible pointer started turning. And at the exact moment the card burned down to ash, a new card appeared in its place.

When Hebe clicked it open, a female voice tinged with a touch of madness sounded in her headphones.

“—After many years, I became the Lord of Years in Sicily. And yet the ember-like doubt in my heart never disappeared.

“Lappland Saluzzo, the liquidator, was never supposed to become the head of those who sell years. The one who should have become the Lord of Years was the exile, Cellinia Texas.

“Then there is only one possible conclusion. Lappland ought to be the one who serves Cellinia.”

At last, Hebe could not hold it in anymore and burst out laughing.

Cellinia Texas

Lappland Saluzzo

This is a fan translation of 赫柏小姐正在杀出异闻带！ by 青散人 Rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!