Susie had already blossomed into a graceful young lady, her age no different from Senomi's or Mandragora's. The three of them were inseparable, bound as true sisters.
Girls of this age were prone to idle thoughts and daydreams, especially about matters of the heart. At the Trimount Academy of Arts and Sorcery, Susie might have seemed timid and unassuming, but her quiet charm drew plenty of eyes. More than a few hot-blooded boys, swept up in the storm of adolescence, had plucked up their courage to confess to her—but she refused them all.
Mandragora was no different. Though she received her share of attention, she always brushed off such advances with impatience, for reasons Susie understood all too well.
What girl didn't dream of romance? For Mandragora, Felix had been her savior—the one who had given her food, shelter, and a future worth looking toward. And for Susie… was it any different?
Sometimes she thought back to that night. If Felix and Mandragora had never knocked on her door, where would she be now, and what kind of life would she be living?
Girls matured faster than boys of the same age. And Susie had seen better—no, she had seen what was, in her eyes, perfection. Sometimes, at night, she would dream of brief moments with Felix: their conversations, their walks together. Just fragments, fleeting but precious.
She didn't know if her feelings for Felix were the same as those of Senomi or Mandragora. But she knew this much: she wanted to be by his side. The sense of safety, of fulfillment, he gave her could never be replaced by anyone else. In her heart, Felix occupied a place no one else could touch.
Now, meeting the grown Susie once more, Felix patted her gently on the head and began preparing a standard-issue Tomorrow's Development kit for her.
And with that, their journey began.
Felix piloted his private aircraft smoothly into the skies. Below them, the lights of Lungmen gradually faded into distance. For Susie, her first time aboard a plane was nerve-wracking; she curled up fearfully in Mostima's arms. Lemuen, meanwhile, gazed back toward the city with the faintest curve at her lips.
She had spoken with the Emperor before their departure, and after some thought entrusted Lemuel to him for the time being. The bird might look like nothing more than a drunken, rapping layabout, but when he got serious, he was remarkably reliable. With Tomorrow's Development's most popular assignments now being logistics and courier work, he was the perfect one to handle it. Both Felix and Lemuen could leave it in his wings without worry.
---
Iberia had few mobile cities; most of the land was dotted with villages and towns. After dozens of hours in the air, carefully steering clear of a roaming Catastrophe storm, they finally touched down in Catalonia, one of Iberia's major cities. It was still several dozen kilometers inland, yet even here the tang of salt and sea breeze carried faintly through the air.
At the airport, Felix presented his credentials. Truth be told, in this era, tourists rarely traveled by plane. With no established domestic flight routes, let alone international ones, most people relied on cars. Felix's unusual arrival naturally drew the authorities' attention.
Catalonia's airport wasn't abandoned, but it wasn't lively either. Only a single, weather-worn aircraft rested on the tarmac, its body streaked with rust from the sea wind.
Waiting for them was a lone airport attendant. His features were indistinct, his race hard to identify—likely an Aegir.
Iberia's two main peoples were the Liberi and the Aegir; anyone without clear traits usually belonged to the latter.
"So it's a Notarial Hall special unit. My apologies for the misunderstanding."
The man bowed, wiping sweat from his brow. He had feared something might be amiss and had already alerted the Inquisition. By now, they would be on their way. But seeing this group in person, he realized it was nothing more than a false alarm.
The Inquisition's response was swift. Their leader arrived almost at once: a middle-aged man in a black-and-pink leather coat, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Most striking of all was the massive hand-cannon holstered at his waist—larger even than the one the Grave Knight carried.
"Ah—Lord Carmen! You came in person?"
The young Aegir's eyes lit with admiration, his voice rising like an eager fan before their idol. He gave a hurried bow and stepped back.
The man called Carmen gave a slight nod in acknowledgment.
"This is the first time I've seen a Sankta special unit travel to a mission site by aircraft."
His tone was calm as his gaze settled on the leader of the group.
Felix silently thought to himself that fortune seemed to be on his side this time. No sooner had he arrived than he ran into one of Iberia's key figures. The others in his group might not recognize the man, but Felix—who in his past life had spent plenty of time in Iberia as a player—certainly did.
Carmen of Iberia. One of the Nine Saints of the Inquisition, and the last surviving among them. Though a Liberi by birth, he had long since surpassed the limits of his race, wielding terrifying power as a lone warrior. Countless souls had fallen to his weapon. Executioner, hero—he was both.
"An honor to meet you, Lord Carmen. I am Felix Shawn Lanshem."
"…Felix. I've heard your name before."
Carmen's eyes lingered on him with quiet scrutiny.
"From the mouths of the undead."
"…I see."
While Carmen spoke, the Inquisition officers who had accompanied him checked the group's documents. Finding nothing amiss, they allowed them to pass without issue. Officially, Laterano maintained cordial relations with most nations. Iberia, too, was home to a small population of Sankta. Though the Iberian Church had long since diverged from Laterano's teachings, their roots still shared similarities.
The Notarial Hall often carried out missions in Iberia, so the Inquisition was no stranger to their presence. Occasionally there were frictions, but for the most part, each went their separate way.
Once the inspections were complete, Carmen and his entourage hurried off. Clearly, they had more pressing matters awaiting them. Before leaving, however, Felix felt Carmen's gaze settle on him one last time—assessing, weighing.
Felix said nothing. Crossing paths with a figure who had been a major NPC in his previous life felt like a stroke of luck. Perhaps it was Susie, one of his Trimount's famed Four Blossoms, who had brought about this fortunate encounter. Maybe this was simply laying the groundwork for their next meeting.
For now, though, the group carried no real mission under the Notarial Hall's banner. After leaving the airport, they took a car into the heart of Catalonia. The city radiated a quiet peace. Though it was winter, the architecture and decorations carried a muted echo of summer—not the noisy, bustling summer of festivals, but one tranquil and still.
For most of them—Mostima, Lemuen—this wasn't their first time in Iberia. Only Felix and Susie were new to its lands. As Felix strolled toward their reserved hotel, his thoughts drifted back to what he had seen earlier.
The number of Inquisition operatives he had glimpsed wasn't consistent with a routine city patrol. Even at the gates, he'd spotted rank-and-file members preparing for deployment—some of them even players. They looked ready to set out on a mission.
It wasn't news that many Iberian players chose to join the Inquisition. After checking in at the hotel, Felix opened the Iberia section of the forums, searching for clues.
Scrolling a few posts, one immediately caught his eye. An uploader named Mahayu had posted: "Notes on Inquisition Missions in Iberia (10)"—apparently the tenth entry in an ongoing series.
Setting aside the uploader's usual obsession with gushing over NPCs, Felix found exactly the kind of information he was looking for.
Over the past month, the frequency of the tides had shifted noticeably.
Since the Profound Silence, the ocean itself had become synonymous with danger to the Inquisition. Official recorders were tasked with observing the sea, and the anomalies they reported this time were unusual enough to command serious attention.
Felix recalled a glimpse of the Inquisition from the 2.0 PV. Could this be the beginning of Iberia's 2.0 main storyline?
If so, it was worth keeping an eye on. Of course, as an outsider newly arrived, he couldn't just dive headfirst into Inquisition business—especially not by immediately rushing to the coast. That would only arouse suspicion.
For now, he would watch the players' movements while seeking opportunities to build contact with the Inquisition.
Iberia still bore the marks of its post-Silence artistic traditions. In the shopping district, many small stores displayed replicas of artifacts said to date back to Iberia's golden age. They looked convincing enough. In his player days, Felix had never bothered with such shops, but this time—wandering with Mostima, Lemuen, and Susie—he found the experience enlightening.
And if they wanted to spend some money, Felix made no objection.
Spending money on his companions didn't bother Felix in the slightest. Mostima might be family to him, but the others were comrades—and Susie, in his eyes, was as close as a younger sister. For them, he had no reason to be stingy.
The first day in Catalonia passed like a casual holiday: strolling the streets, sightseeing, treating it like tourism. On the second day, everyone was free to move about as they pleased. After reassuring Susie for a while, Felix entrusted her to the care of Mostima and Lemuen together, then set off alone—his destination: the Inquisition.
"—Halt."
Two guards stood at attention outside the Inquisition's main entrance, clad in the distinctive black-and-pink leather uniforms. They were Liberi, and the moment they saw Felix approach, they gripped their long spears more tightly. His Sankta heritage and calm demeanor didn't exactly scream "enemy," but their instincts as guards had them issuing a warning right away.
"I'd like to request an audience with Doctor Simon."
Felix produced his card and handed it over. The guard scanned it, his tone shifting slightly as hesitation crept in. "Lord Felix, may I ask your purpose? We'll need to report it to our superiors."
"I have some questions regarding Originium technology I'd like to consult Doctor Simon about."
"…Understood. Please wait a moment."
This Doctor Simon wasn't just any researcher. In the game, he had been tied to a side quest—one that only unlocked once a player reached level 50 with an Intelligence stat of 90. The level requirement wasn't high, but the stat check was steep, making it one of the late-stage side stories of version 2.0.
And crucially, it was only available to Inquisition members. Felix, in his past life, had once worked under the Inquisition, so he knew this path well.
He wasn't officially a member this time around, but fortune favored him: Simon had once been a professor of Originium Engineering at Trimount Polytechnic. After graduation, he returned to Iberia and joined the Inquisition, continuing his research. On Felix's business card, beneath his company affiliation, he'd made sure to list his own doctorate. Approaching a senior "alumnus" for academic guidance was more than reasonable.
The guard returned quickly, this time with a respectful bow and a gesture for Felix to follow.
The Inquisition headquarters, much like the Notarial Hall, carried an air of rigid order. After verifying his credentials, Felix was led through the busy main hall, past clerks bent over paperwork and messengers darting between offices, and finally into the building's innermost section.
Here, another guard took over, swiping a keycard to unlock a heavy door before ushering him into what resembled a reception room.
Inside sat Professor Simon. The elderly Aegir's gaze wandered, his fingers often lifting his glasses as he muttered fragments of formulas under his breath. The classic absentminded academic. Compared to him, Felix privately thought, Professor and Mrs. Naumann were far more personable.
"Oh… oh, you're here for me? And you are?" Simon asked distractedly.
"Professor Simon, hello. I'm your junior—Felix."
He offered his card once again. The professor took it without looking, setting it aside absentmindedly. The corner of Felix's mouth twitched, but he pressed on.
"I've read your graduation thesis from ten years ago, and I had a few questions."
"Q… questions?"
Simon scratched at his unkempt hair. The thesis Felix mentioned had been one of the papers Simon submitted at the time of his graduation. It examined whether the use of Originium arts by people living near the ocean was affected by the sea itself—a novel idea back then, standing out among the submissions. Still, its final evaluation had been nothing remarkable.
"You say you have questions? Go on then. What are they?"
The moment the topic shifted to research and Originium arts, Professor Simon's eyes lit up. His stammer vanished as he spoke with sudden clarity.
"The tides themselves seem to influence the effectiveness of water-type Originium arts. That's precisely the subject of my current research."
Felix patiently carried the conversation forward, weaving in theories on water-aspected arts. It was, after all, Simon's area of focus, and Felix was also stockpiling knowledge in Originium studies. One explained, the other listened—it was a mutually beneficial exchange.
After about half an hour, their discussion began to wind down. Felix lifted his teacup, took a sip, and casually asked a question.
"Professor Simon, how much do you know about the ruins along the coast?"
"Ruins…" Simon fell silent for a while. "To be honest, I've come across plenty of documents and reports on them—files that piqued my curiosity. But the Inquisition forbids us from approaching the shoreline. And as a researcher, I can hardly march out there on my own."
"I could take a look for you."
Felix offered the suggestion outright.
"Why… why didn't I think of that sooner!"
Simon suddenly burst into laughter, seizing Felix's hands with surprising enthusiasm. "Of course! With a junior like you, how could I worry? You'll help me, won't you?"
[You have triggered C-Rank Quest: Professor Simon's Request]