In the brightly lit room, although it wasn't cluttered, Furen couldn't help but find the number of extraordinary materials terribly impressive; after all, these were non-renewable resources.
Furen carefully observed the beyonder materials arranged on the shelves and tables in the room. Just counting the different varieties, he counted more than ten. These materials alone were worth between ten and twenty thousand pounds of gold. While Furen certainly had no shortage of wealth, he doubted that all his wealth could far outweigh the value of what lay before him.
These extraordinary, yet priceless materials were displayed like ordinary vegetables in a market, leaving Furen and his companions completely stunned. In fact, the "apprentices" standing near him were just as astounded.
Furen even heard one of them, wide-eyed, murmur incredulously
"Have I gone mad? Extraordinary materials that are only seen at rare mystical gatherings, scattered here like wild grasses... It's sacrilege!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Furen spotted a man and a woman who, on the contrary, remained impassive, as if they were used to such scenes. Amadi, in particular, didn't even glance at them: he had settled himself at an empty table, his legs casually crossed. Furen found it hard to imagine that someone could adopt such a posture as a form of relaxation.
A sigh interrupts Furen's thoughts.
Reeve, or rather, Old Reeve, points to the pile of extraordinary materials in front of them and says:
"I thought that by finally bringing out all the materials I have patiently gathered for so many years, many 'apprentices' would rush here, eager to attempt their advancement. I thought to myself: so many new 'Masters of Magic Tricks' may not change the fate of the world, but at least I could face our ancestor Gabriel without lowering my eyes… And yet… yet… alas."
He puts his hand to his forehead, and his voice trembles slightly.
"I remember, yes, even though age weighs on me, I still remember. In Trier, the apprentices of the Abraham lineage were far more numerous than the "Masters of Magic Tricks." Could I have been mistaken? Why don't they come anymore? Can the glory of our ancestors really be obtained without going through the curse?"
In Furen's ears, Reeve's voice sounded almost like sobs. But what happened next puzzled him: the weakness had vanished from the old man's voice.
"Since you are here, my dear apprentices, tell me how the digestion of your potions is going, and how the collection of the main materials for the 'Master of Magic Tricks' is progressing."
The apprentices took turns speaking to report on their progress in their sequence. Of the five, three had already finished digesting their potions. Furen himself and another had not yet finished.
Reeve, impassive as always, asked
"So, you three, do you want to consume your potion right here, or would you prefer to prepare it at home?"
The three answer almost in unison:
"Mr. Reeve, we would like to prepare it at home. Please grant us this opportunity."
Reeve didn't respond to any comments. He simply handed them five complete sets of extraordinary materials, one for each, and then waved them off.
Understanding the owner's strictness, the five apprentices didn't linger. They thanked Reeve one by one, then left the room. Outside, five servants were already waiting, each assigned to an apprentice to serve him personally.
Furen said nothing more. After walking for a while, he addressed his servant:
"I still have a few questions for Mr. Reeve. Let me visit him before I leave."
Furen, ignoring the servant's protests, turned around and headed back the way he'd come. The helpless servant followed him, fearing that this overly curious gentleman might cause some incident.
The other apprentices, eager to prepare the Master of Magic Tricks' potion, glanced briefly at Furen before leaving. The last apprentice, the one who had not yet digested his potion, hesitated for a moment, but faced with the pleading look of his own servant, he gave up his curiosity and let him go alone.
Furen went back up to the third floor, past the unusual room he had been in earlier. After knocking, he pushed open the door.
The shelves, once covered with gleaming materials, were now empty. Only two elders were still conversing. As the door opened, they interrupted their discussion and turned to the intruder, fixing him with a cold or mocking stare.
Furen bowed slightly in apology. It was then that he noticed that the person wrapped in a thick cloak had removed their mask: as he expected, this Abraham was a young woman.
Reeve looked at the unexpected guest and, in an even tone, said
"Didn't I tell you the meeting was over? Is there anything else you'd like to tell me in particular?"
Furen didn't feel troubled. He knew that Mr. Crow, the name Reeve used, sounded cold, but he wasn't the type to refuse help to a sincere Abraham, as long as no one tried to take advantage of his goodwill.
In the Abraham clan's current situation, being an "Elder" was not an enviable position: the scattered Abrahams would never have tolerated a corrupt elder. In truth, many of them had no fear of their elders.
After all, no Abraham had ever advanced beyond "Astrologer" to become "Archivist." And even if they did, they would find it impossible to fully digest their potion and would eventually die, by the cries of our ancestor Bethel Abraham.
So Furen stared at the Trier branch manager, a man who had done so much to help his people, took a breath and then said:
"Mr. Crow, may I ask if the maid at this villa was personally chosen by you? After your earlier suggestions, I have serious reason to believe that she is a member of the Gnosis Society."
To his surprise, Reeve's face tightened slightly.
"Maid? You mean my wife's? I don't have a maid. Only a valet. And today, due to lack of time and to avoid detection, I only took a few extraordinary items with me, using the 'Wanderer's Ring'."
Suddenly, Reeve understood:
"No... I've been unmasked! But how? Even with the 'Wanderer's Ring' combined with my divinatory abilities, someone could have interfered with it? Could it be that..."
He stood up abruptly, ready to leave, but changed his mind when he remembered something even more important.
Turning to the other two, he said, "Amadi, Cersei, as I said earlier, I have other arrangements to entrust to you."
Then, addressing Furen, he added:
"No need to leave, Furen. What I have to say concerns you as well. You are still only an 'apprentice,' but your insight could well serve Abraham's rebirth."
(End of chapter)