Miss Hebe Is Charging Through the Lostbelts! [51]

The road to Brancrug twisted and turned.

And that was after the repairs made in recent years. It was said that before World War II, anyone who wanted to reach Brancrug needed a good deal of luck just to cross those treacherous, ever-shifting waters.

Brancrug was a large island of gray rock, located at the southwestern corner of Cornwall. Historically, it had suffered many invasions by foreign enemies.

When Rome invaded Albion, the island was used for tin mining and as a troop garrison—a practice Rome may have learned from its mortal enemies, the Carthaginians.

For a very long time, Brancrug had been regarded as a “frontier.” Unlike Flying Bird Point, which lay closer to the Wasteland, Brancrug was called a frontier because here, the laws of the Wasteland and the laws of the waking world ran side by side.

With Atlantis gone, Shangri-La impossible to find, and the Peach Blossom Spring nowhere in sight, places like Brancrug were the next best refuge for those who wished to withdraw from the world.

After that, more and more recluses came to Brancrug. The Orthodox Church also stationed people here, and the kings before Arthur had tried to extend their authority to this place as well—unfortunately, none of it lasted.

The Orthodox Church promoted the triple worship of the Great Mother, the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Son here. Naturally, they also preached the faith of Skyflint and the Radiant Twins as a matter of course. In those days, the Orthodox Church was very tolerant in its conduct.

After the War of the Roses, Brancrug Isle separated from Cornwall’s noble hierarchy.

At that time, a mysterious team of scholars crossed the sea from Egypt’s beloved land. They said that their forerunner had once made an agreement with King Arthur across the span of history.

King Arthur promised that she would fulfill that agreement, and so she granted Brancrug Isle anew, bestowing the dignity of Lord of Brancrug upon the “Lord of Hush House.”

However, it had to be noted that only the “Lord of Hush House” possessed that authority, and the only Lord of Hush House whom Arthur recognized was Imhotep.

At the time, the scholars of Hush House looked at one another in dismay. To them, Imhotep was already someone from more than twenty centuries ago.

While they were growing restless, King Arthur gave them a way out. Although the true Lord of Hush House had long since passed away, they could elect someone from among themselves to act in that lord’s stead.

After repeated discussion, the scholars decided to follow King Arthur’s suggestion. Thus, the first Librarian of Hush House was born. His authority derived from the Lord of Hush House, and when a majority of the council approved, he could promulgate laws to be enforced on the island.

These laws were notarized by Lord Twilight and protected by the Orthodox Church’s three great Consuls. No one could ignore them.

The Twelfth Librarian disappeared without a trace after World War II, and no one could confirm whether he was still alive.

Of course, Hebe knew. Whether he was alive or dead, neither could obstruct her inheritance of Hush House.

…

Pale gray clouds churned over the sea horizon. A road wound toward the center of the village, and after Precis parked the van, she motioned for Hebe to follow her.

“In Brancrug, apprentices aren’t as restricted as they are in London. They use the techniques they’ve mastered in everyday life, within reason.”

Hebe followed Precis’s gaze. On both sides of the village’s main street stood shops with all kinds of signs hanging outside. At a glance, they seemed no different from those in London, but a closer look revealed extraordinary details.

The blacksmiths murmured words in praise of Skyflint beside their furnaces. They disliked using tools, preferring to reach directly into the blazing heat with their hands to grasp the heated workpieces.

Street performers plucked their strings in special ways. The music they produced was strange and far-carrying, making people want to stop for a long while—and even keep listening for the rest of their lives.

Precis stopped before a large blue-purple house and smiled proudly. “This will be my residence in Brancrug from now on.”

The house had three full floors. Its bronze doors were tightly shut, and dark velvet curtains covered the windows completely, giving it a sense of security.

Mordred’s destination was nearby as well—a small tavern in the village.

The tavern was not especially large, and its curtains and windows were marked with brown stains. Clearly, after Morgan bought it, she had not taken proper care of it.

Fortunately, there was no shortage of ingredients or seasonings inside the tavern, more than enough to make a hearty dinner.

“Please wait a moment.”

At the mention of cooking, a faint pride and self-satisfaction appeared on Mordred’s face.

Of course she would be proud. After all, the cooking skills of everyone at the Round Table were difficult to describe, and Arthur was the sort of person who would eat almost anything…

At first, Mordred had been much the same as Arthur, but the nightmare sage was the sort of person who would never settle if good food was available.

Therefore, under the sage’s influence, Mordred had quickly surpassed her teacher.

…

Before long, an enticing aroma drifted from the kitchen stove.

Sitting at the dining table, Hebe wondered whether Mo might be an apprentice of a Path under the Principle of Cup.

Since this was not a formal banquet, Mordred did not serve the dishes in sequence.

Amber pumpkin soup steamed in its bowl. The chips gave off an alluring golden sheen. Onion rings were arranged on a plate. Fried egg croquettes were paired with cream, and the main dish was zucchini and mushrooms with baked potatoes.

To be honest, there were only so many tricks to Albion’s cuisine. But the dishes Mo made happened to bring out the full potential of every ingredient. On this land of Albion, so accustomed to ruining food, that was a first-rate rarity.

Mordred stood behind the counter, slowly enjoying a bowl of stewed vegetables. Rather than eating to fill her stomach, it would be more accurate to say she was using this opportunity to openly watch Hebe.

“Does it suit your tastes?” Only after the plates and cups had all been emptied did Mordred softly ask Hebe for her opinion.

“It’s very delicious.” That was the truth.

Hebe had originally been worried that coming to Brancrug would amount to torturing her palate.

Now, it seemed that worry had been unnecessary.

“Then that is better than anything.”

Mordred gave a restrained bow. That proud, pleased expression made Hebe feel a vague sense of familiarity.

If I get the chance, I should see exactly how many faces Mo is hiding beneath that Illusion… Hebe walked calmly through the cold wind, and no one could have guessed what she was thinking at that moment.

She soon crossed the entire village. Ahead of her, thick fog blocked the way. In the gray mist, the outline of a great bridge cast from metal could be faintly seen.

No one was posted by the bridge to watch over it. Beyond this point lay Hush House, and to the island’s residents, Hush House was still something best not approached rashly.

Hebe walked on.

The thick fog parted to both sides like a living creature. After she passed, it closed again. The black metal bridge seemed to have no end, and the sound of the tide came from beneath her feet.

At last, an immense silhouette appeared within the fog. Hebe raised her head and gazed at the full view of Hush House as it slowly unfolded before her.

By the bridge stood a low watchman’s lodge, and behind it were two towers of equal height standing side by side.

One had bleak white outer walls, while the other was inlaid with colored glass.

These two towers look like they’d be weak to aircraft… Hebe thought.

At some point, the fog had completely dispersed. Hebe’s gaze passed over the emerald garden and ivory colonnades, falling upon the castle-like main building. Compared with the main structure, the twin towers standing side by side seemed small.

Hush House stood silent in the sea fog, solemnly watching the one who had come. Hebe returned its gaze with eyes older and more distant still, from a time when even Atlas Institute had still operated under the name Sanctum of Silence.

And so, the doors of Hush House slowly opened wide.

It was welcoming its master—not the Librarian elected by the council, but its true master.

Hebe walked forward and saw a sheet of parchment placed on the stone platform at the entrance.

She took out a pen and signed her name upon it in one flowing motion.

The parchment swiftly began to burn.

BONG! BONG! BONG!

Atop the highest tower, the bronze bell began to ring of its own accord. With the sound of the bell, the dense fog that had shrouded Hush House for half a century rapidly dispersed.

Every resident in Brancrug realized one thing.

—The new lord of Brancrug had been born.

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!