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It's like a game of strategy that's happening simultaneously in the distance and right before our eyes.
He saw through all their words, attitudes, silences, and probing.
There must be Hartres's accomplices hidden among them.
That's without a doubt. The only question is—
Who is it?
Is it Inole Baruyetta Atolohom?
The old woman remained an observer throughout the entire event, detached from it.
But she was, after all, Aozaki Touko's teacher.
Her words were too clever, just like her position in the clock tower—so high that no one dared to question it, yet so vague and elusive.
Or perhaps, Magdana Trambergio Ellord?
He is now the one presiding over the Grand Order decision.
Whether it was initially sparking the investigation into Hartres's whereabouts or now pushing forward the trial proceedings, his presence is ubiquitous.
Was his "confession" and "compensation" to Ashira also just a performance?
Is he really willing to sacrifice his daughter's future in exchange for the smooth passage of a resolution?
Is it still that "princess"—Olga Marie Animusfia?
Since her father, Marisbury, disappeared, the young girl has been determined to re-establish the Animusfia family's dominance through the Grand Decree.
From a power perspective, she has strong motivations.
From her perspective, she may not care about sacrificing certain things.
We cannot rule out Rufreus Nazele Euryphus.
He was the leader of that group of democrats and the most vehement opponent of reopening Albion's tomb.
He clearly did not believe in the power of the old world, yet he feared its "awakening" more than anyone else.
This is not a contradiction, but fear.
What is he afraid of? And how much does he know?
As for May Lydia Acherlot...
This woman seemed like an unnecessary presence from beginning to end.
Aside from a few sarcastic remarks at the beginning about Olga Marie, she hardly said anything.
It's less like a participant and more like an audience member who shouldn't have been part of the script.
But that's precisely why it seems...worthy of vigilance.
Everyone is talking; some are too noisy, and some are too quiet.
Hartres's cronies are hidden within this chaotic symphony.
However, these are not the issues that should be addressed at present.
Despite the complex undercurrents at the Grand Council, the most pressing issue at this moment remains this Underworld.
While pondering, Matouchi had already used the authority related to "death" to project his perception into a deeper layer of this land.
What was perceived was not simply the accumulation of death energy or spiritual matter, but a deeper level of suppression and sealing.
“...It feels like something is pressing down on me,” he murmured.
It was neither burial nor natural slumber.
Rather, it is some kind of existence that has been forcibly suppressed here, like the raging flames sealed under a volcano, or the strange noises struggling at the bottom of a crack.
Things that can be suppressed by the world itself are by no means trivial.
Only an existence that is on par with or even contrary to the will of human reason needs to be suppressed by using the entire underworld.
In other words, this underworld is not merely a realm where the dead slumber.
It's more like a prison.
A cage made of "death,"
The barrier is guarded by Cerberus, the legendary three-headed hound of hell.
"Use the underworld to seal another 'world'..." Matou Ike murmured.
What an absurd yet shocking structure it was.
The being guarded by Cerberus represents the opposite of an order that transcends the mortal realm.
If it is a key or a gatekeeper, then what is behind the door is not something "visible to humans".
But here is the problem.
This is not Greece.
Cerberus corresponds to the underworld in ancient Greek mythology.
And here is London, at the Albion Mausoleum—the origin of modern magic.
Chapter 610 Fairies and Paradise (4k)
They traveled along the Matou Pond for some time.
The geology beneath our feet defies complete definition.
At first glance, it looks like rocks, but it feels like stepping on unstable memories. Every step sinks, and every step drags on some lingering echo that doesn't belong to this world.
The air was filled with a mixture of decay and coldness, like the stiff silence of a corpse unable to decompose in extreme cold.
This underworld has no clear zenith or horizon.
The colors around us were like black and white illusions stripped of their saturation, with only a faint light, seemingly nonexistent, shining from the far distance, like a lantern hanging above an abyss that refused to reveal its true name.
The further he went, the more clearly he could feel it—
It is struggling.
The sealed being is slowly awakening, seemingly sensing that outsiders are approaching its cage.
“…It’s hard to imagine,” Matou Ike said softly.
It wasn't surprise, but confirmation.
What he perceived was neither will nor life.
Rather, it is “the world’s hostility toward the world.”
It's as if Alaya and Gaia once worked together to kick something out of the surface of reality, and now that thing is trying to return.
Just then, he stopped.
Ahead, there is a door.
The door wasn't grand in design, but it was so captivating that he couldn't look away.
It is not made of stone, nor is it forged from metal; rather, it is composed of a kind of flowing "death"—
Like the last murmurs of countless dying people, broken magical vows, and unfinished ritual circuits, they are woven together layer by layer, eventually solidifying into this dark, still, and chilling doorway.
There are three grooves on the door, like keyholes.
It also resembles the imprint of some kind of ritualistic trace.
Then, Matou Ike raised her head and shifted her gaze to the wall where the door was located—
That was not a wall in the ordinary sense.
Rather than a "structure," it is more like a shadow cast by some kind of origin of the world.
It has no end, no sharp edges, and no cracks, as if there is no process of "construction" at all.
It's as if it has always existed this way from the very beginning.
A wall that stretches on and on.
It seemed to traverse the entire underworld, extending to the other side beyond the reach of consciousness.
It seemed to traverse the entire underworld, extending to the other side beyond the reach of consciousness.
At that moment, Matouike had a strange, unsettling feeling:
This wall isn't "blocking" anything.
Rather, it is a container used to seal the entire underworld itself.
He stepped closer to the wall.
The surface of the wall is neither rock nor metal, but a kind of "time-space sediment" that seems to have been compressed layer by layer.
He could sense that the structure was like pressing layers of past time into thin sheets, imprinting unformed magic, unpassed bloodlines, and unspoken cries into the walls, solidifying them into a density that would never collapse.
His fingertips lingered on it for a moment.
……sigh.
Matou Ike didn't even know why she was experiencing this almost emotional fluctuation.
But he quickly understood the source of this impulse.
"The Wall of Sighs..."
He whispered to himself, as if confirming some forgotten legend.
In Greek mythology, the boundary between Elysium and the abyss of Hades is called the "Wall of Sighs".
It is said that the barrier was formed from the three sighs of Persephone, the Queen of the Underworld, as she returned to the Land of Darkness.
Three cries are enough to prevent the deceased from seeking the good deeds they did in life.
Three cries sealed away the eternal mourning of the underworld.
In the interpretation of the world of magic—
"The souls in the underworld see the Pure Land of Bliss so close at hand, yet they can never set foot there, and can only sigh softly from across this wall."