["So, in short, this fog is what remains of the Great Barrier of London created during the Demon God War?"]

“It’s more a side effect than a remnant... Well, close enough. You can think of it that way.”

["Now that you’ve said that, I’m even more curious about why you call it a side effect."]

“It’s nothing much. Ghosts occasionally appear in this fog. A few people vanish without a trace every day, too.”

["That’s plenty much enough to worry about!"]

Yu Na-gyeong recoiled at Limon’s words, then suddenly tilted her head.

["No, wait. The Demon God War happened just after World War II ended, didn’t it? And the barrier they raised back then is still having an effect?"]

“Yes. And it will for another thousand years.”

["... How is that possible?"]

“Because magic grows stronger the deeper it runs, and the greater its weight, the greater the repercussions it leaves behind.”

Yu Na-gyeong looked out from the observation deck again. Gazing at the sea of fog still rolling over London, she looked overwhelmed.

The fog blanketing all of London was so dense and heavy that she doubted even hundreds of players using the 『Climate Alteration』 skill together could produce it. Yet this was merely the trace of magic cast decades ago. Had anyone other than Limon told her, she could never have believed it.

["... That’s a little different from what I’ve heard. In movies and textbooks, the witches just appear, throw up a barrier—ta-da!—and stop the Demon God."]

“Of course.”

["Of course they get the facts wrong?"]

“Of course every country advertises its good points to death while doing everything it can to cover up its flaws and dangers.”

["I’d like to deny that, but I can’t, which makes it all the more depressing."]

Limon snorted at Yu Na-gyeong’s dazed words and shocked expression. After the Demon God War, the British Empire had seized supremacy over Europe by boasting that it alone had stopped the Demon God. There was no way it would have allowed a wild rumor that “they stopped the Demon God, but London was cursed in exchange” to spread.

Perhaps this absurd transformation was itself part of a policy to suppress such rumors. Dazzled by London’s theme-park appearance, people would obligingly misunderstand the true reason it was called the City of Magic, just as Yu Na-gyeong had.

["Anyway, if that’s how it is, I can see why you’re looking for the magic halls of the twenty-seven magical lineages, Team Leader," ] Yu Na-gyeong suddenly murmured.

The twenty-seven witches who had raised the Great Barrier of London. Magic halls inheriting those witches’ twenty-seven magical lineages would surely be in an entirely different league from the ordinary halls found on every street. The problem was that every last one of those lineage halls had become a chain store. That was precisely why Limon frowned.

“... I still don’t understand.”

["Huh? Understand what?"]

“How places like that can do business under the banner of the twenty-seven magical lineages.”

["Well... isn’t it possible? We live in an age when people cash in on history and tradition, too."]

“That’s why I don’t understand. Elsewhere, perhaps, but when it comes to magic here in London, that ‘age we live in’ argument can’t possibly apply.”

["...?"]

“Besides, profits my ass. Real magic halls don’t do business that way.”

["What’s that supposed to mean?"]

“For example... hm?”

Just as he was about to explain to Yu Na-gyeong, who was tilting her head at his cryptic remark, Limon raised his eyebrows and turned toward the interior of the clock tower. An extremely faint scent of magic had brushed his nose, slightly different from the spiritual energy emanating from the fog.

He scanned the tower’s interior with his Sword Master’s senses, searching for the source. Then he slowly approached the transparent clock face that doubled as a window. Checking the positions of its hands, he gave a curious smile.

“I see. I wondered where all the real magic halls had gone... They hid an entrance here, did they?”

A door that opened only during the ‘Misty hours,’ placed here of all places, overlooking all those counterfeit magic halls. If that was deliberate, it was quite an amusing prank. As Limon murmured that, at any rate, it would spare them some pointless legwork, Yu Na-gyeong looked puzzled.

["A door?"]

“Na-gyeong, doesn’t this clock face look a little strange to you?”

["... Not in the slightest?"]

Limon’s question baffled Yu Na-gyeong. Quite naturally, since the clock face he indicated was showing the time perfectly normally, with nothing odd about it whatsoever. Instead, Wei Ling, who had been following him in silence, spoke up.

“The clock face is reversed.”

["What’s reversed? It just looks like an ordinary clock... huh?"]

Yu Na-gyeong’s eyes widened. Only then did she realize that the very fact this clock looked ordinary was what made it strange.

["No, wait! What’s wrong with this clock face? It looked normal from outside, so shouldn’t it look reversed from inside?"]

They were inside the clock tower. If the face looked normal from outside, it ought to look backward from within. Yet it looked normal on both sides. As Yu Na-gyeong struggled to make sense of that, Limon spoke calmly.

“There’s no need to be surprised. It’s only a signpost.”

["... A signpost?"]

“Yes. And a key.”

Limon folded his arms and pondered the clock face, reversed yet not reversed.

‘A clock... could it be Sena the Rewinder?’

‘No, then the clock would be running backward.’

‘Backward, opposite, the other side. I see. It’s the lineage of Eureka the Reverser.’

‘Eureka loved turning everything the other way around. In that case, the door must be...’

For a moment, he tapped his fingers, recalling the petite witch with the cute freckles. Then he swept his gaze across the area opposite the clock face. Approaching a full-length mirror standing alone in a corner of the tower, he turned it right around.

“‘Turn it over, and it will be opened to you (Turn over, and it will be opened to you),’ is it?”

‘Honestly, this damn repertoire hasn’t changed in centuries.’

After a brief, incredulous chuckle at the inscription on the mirror’s back, Limon dragged it opposite the clock face and adjusted its angle until the reflected face appeared precisely backward. Then he said casually,

“All right, let’s go in.”

["Go in? Where are we going th—aaagh?!"]

Yu Na-gyeong, who had been watching his actions in bewilderment, panicked. The moment he took a long stride forward, the full-length mirror’s surface rippled like water struck by a pebble and smoothly admitted his body.

Before she could do more than splutter, Yu Na-gyeong was drawn in with him. By the time she regained her bearings, she and Limon were already inside the mirror... no, in the world beyond it.

["What is this?!"]

Yu Na-gyeong recoiled at the sight: everything, from the clock face and the interior layout to the view of London beyond the observation deck, was reversed left to right. Unlike her, Wei Ling had calmly followed Limon through. Looking around, she asked quietly,

“Is this what you meant when you said the magic halls of the twenty-seven magical lineages would be hard to find?”

“Yes. They never ran their magic halls to make money in the first place,” Limon said with a sneer.

Street-side magic halls were another matter, where some spell-slinger who had half learned a little magic sold odds and ends and put on shows. But a true magic hall could never even be found by someone whose fate did not lead there—and even if they did find it, money could not buy them a single trinket.

["If they aren’t interested in making money, why run a magic hall at all? Is it some kind of hobby?"]

“Well. If I had to put it into words, it’s less a hobby than a karmic burden.”

["A karmic burden?"]

“Yes. Genuine witches and wizards inevitably have to run magic halls, if only to keep using magic.”

["The more you explain, the less I understand."]

“If you don’t understand, just accept it without understanding.”

That was simply how magic worked, Limon told her with a perfectly straight face. Then he ambled out of the clock tower onto the streets of London, blanketed in fog just as thick as outside the mirror, yet looking far more dreamlike.

Wings fluttered.

“Come to welcome us? Even showing us the way. This generation’s Eureka has rather good manners.”

A softly glowing butterfly had flown up as though it had been waiting. Limon followed without hesitation, its light strangely distinct even within the fog.

And so Limon, with his leisurely air, Yu Na-gyeong, staring blankly at their surroundings, and Wei Ling, following silently behind, arrived at a magic hall. It was none other than [Orna the Unraveler’s Magic Hall], the last place they had visited outside the mirror.

“Hm?”

They had gone to the trouble of entering through Eureka’s door. For a moment, Limon wondered why they had arrived at Orna’s hall rather than [Eureka the Reverser’s Magic Hall]. Then he accepted it, opened the door, and went inside.

["Huh?"]

Yu Na-gyeong was dumbstruck. A world reversed left to right was already dizzying enough, but the interior of the magic hall was on an entirely different level.

The ceiling and floor were completely inverted, as though gravity worked backward. Dozens of doors, large and small, covered all six surfaces—the ceiling, floor, and four walls. A bird-shaped lock clacked inside a birdcage, while a bunch of keys crawled along a wall with clicking sounds. The sight felt more like a dream than reality, and Yu Na-gyeong’s beak fell wide open.

But it was not the scenery that truly captured her attention. It was a woman seated upside down at a desk fixed to the ceiling, propping up her chin and looking down at them.

“Welcome, dears.”

She wore a curiously old-fashioned black dress that left her arms, shoulders, and even her cleavage fully exposed. Her dark red hair was as vivid as darkness itself, yet seemed to flicker like flames. Her eyes curved softly, and a beauty mark lay beneath her left eye.

Simply sitting there, she drew the eye and set hearts racing. As not only Yu Na-gyeong but even Wei Ling involuntarily swallowed at the sight of her, Limon spoke with a rigid expression.

“... What are you doing here?”

“What a cold greeting after so long apart.”

“Enough chatter. Answer me.”

“I will, so don’t draw that sword. A delicate witch like me would be too frightened to speak.”

The woman chuckled at Limon, whose hand had already settled on his sword hilt, poised to draw at any moment. Resting her chin on her interlaced fingers, she continued languidly.

“I’m here because I was waiting for you.”

“For me? You? Why?”

Limon looked dubious. Meeting her was not itself surprising. He had expected that ever since hearing Ainsha’s prophecy. But encountering her here, in this fashion, was entirely unforeseen.

Even if Limon doggedly sought her out, this dark-red-haired woman would hide from him, never show herself of her own accord. Why, then, had she done something so unprecedented? Faced with his blatant suspicion, she stated her business directly.

“Won’t you save me, child?”

“... I told you not to call me a child, you old hag.”

“I can’t help it, can I? You really do look like a child to me.”

If he wanted to stop being treated like a baby, he should come back once he was over a thousand years old, she told him with an amiable smile. Looking at this woman, one of the very few people in the entire world older than himself, Limon could only frown.