Chapter 38 - The Alchemy Oven
Meanwhile, in the heart of the city at the Moonlit Night Hall...
Arthur stepped into a corridor that was excessively illuminated by white crystals hanging from the ceiling in strange shapes—almost like a chandelier. The walls were decorated with items whose meanings or depths he couldn't quite grasp—for instance, a solitary strand of hair—which, like many other objects stored there, evoked an eerie feeling in him, sending shivers down his spine at just the sight of them.
It was more than just a corridor, and he knew it—it was also a display of the power held by the Moonlit Night Hall in that small town, where only a select few had the privilege to come and go beyond the lands overrun by beasts at their whim.
"Please, sir, come in; the manager is waiting for you," said the butler as he bowed slightly—though no matter how hard Arthur tried, he could never deduce the butler's true level of cultivation.
The door swung open, releasing a strange, oppressive pressure from inside. Arthur had been here so many times over the past few years—as they were the only ones with information from the outside world—that he still hadn't grown accustomed to it. He walked toward the room where a young man—someone not to be underestimated—awaited him.
"Mr. Arthur," the young man said in a friendly tone—a stark contrast to the palpable tension in the room—"I regret to inform you that, unfortunately, we haven't received any new information regarding potential alchemists."
Arthur sat down in a chair facing the manager's desk, cleared his throat, and stated:
"I didn't come here for that."
He delivered the words while enduring the pressure without showing any sign of being affected.