Chapter 606 — The End of Winter

Of course, those facilities and institutions surely still had loopholes, and there would always be those who found ways to crack them and hide fluctuations of mana; high-tier or legendary transcendents might also, by virtue of their own great strength, shield themselves from the surveillance of the magical sensory devices. Cracking and counter-cracking, surveillance and counter-surveillance—the contest in this field would never end. But be that as it may, so long as the new mode of management had even a single measure of effect, the Southern Region would be that much safer—at the very least, those cultists who sought to infiltrate and were forever trying to sneak about holding evil rituals would no longer find it so easy to slip in.

From now on, cultists operating in the Southern Region—whether they were Dormant Ones or Followers of the End of All Things—would face a situation where a single incantation would get them handcuffed to a radiator by the law enforcers.

...

After ending the communication, Hetty stretched her back hard and worked the slight soreness out of her neck.

Outside the window the cold wind was howling; the snow of the past two days still lay heavy on the roofs of several buildings, and crystalline icicles hung down from the window ledges, betraying the cold outside.

A faint warm current flowed along the ventilation ducts and issued from the air-circulation vents on either side of the office, maintaining a comfortable temperature within; even in such cold weather, the air in the room remained so cozy as to make one drowsy.

In fact, Rebecca had already fallen asleep on the sofa nearby.

Hetty glanced helplessly at her niece, snoring away, and could not help shaking her head.

"...And this is the one who came running to chat with the Ancestor... asleep before the call even connected..."

She muttered a couple of words, but did not wake Rebecca, nor did she truly mean to reproach her for anything.

She knew Rebecca had truly been exhausted of late—for the sake of the technical exchange with the Silver Empire, for the organizing and preparation of that whole series of new projects, this simple-hearted girl had not rested properly for nearly half a month.

The child needed a good sleep.

Hetty found a blanket nearby and gently covered Rebecca with it, which made her think of the girl as a little child—this never-settled little thing had always been an expert at kicking off her covers; even with two maids assigned to watch her, they often could not keep pace with Rebecca's blanket-kicking...

As though sensing something, Rebecca, lying on the sofa, shifted slightly and gave a muddled murmur: "...Ancestor Yan... I'll figure it out... the elves' runes..."

After that one murmur, she suddenly smiled foolishly in her sleep, as though she had been praised in her dream.

Watching these stirrings of Rebecca's, Hetty could not help but let a faint smile show on her face; then she rose and let her gaze sweep over the calendar hanging on the wall not far away.

The Month of Chill, the thirty-fifth day.

Twenty-five days more, and winter would be over.