Symon closed the book with a heavy snap before returning it to its original position on the shelf. There were plenty of them up there, but after flipping through a few and finding nothing but the incomprehensible written words of Common, he gave up. He could come back once Keelgrave woke up, then use him to check through them for anything useful. Even if they didn't turn out to contain anything directly relevant to his current investigation, they'd be the perfect distraction on his future ship journey to the mainland. He realised then that he hadn't actually asked how long it would take to reach the Eastern continent, but he had an upper bound.

It was only a single trade ship that made the journey every month, so for that to be possible, the journey couldn't take more than two weeks. That was assuming it did nothing but sail nonstop, so it was likely faster. Even just one week of staring at the ocean — if he could even find a way to safely travel on one — would bore him half to death, so some reading material would be on his list of things to bring. That was presuming, of course, that he could fit on the ship. He knew that was more of an assumption, though.

He hadn't found anything else of value in the study, but there was a window currently covered by velvety drapes that he'd spread apart and looked through. The swirling barrier of mist was only a few meters from the back of the manor wall, which obscured what must have once been a beautiful view of where the forest met the ocean.

On second thought, those trees are pretty tall, so you'd probably have needed to be at the top of the tower to see over them.

Looking down, he saw the waist-high stone wall that encircled the manor grounds, which had a well with a pointy little stone roof over it butting up against it. He would appreciate being able to wash all the pollen off, but judging by his experience so far, it was just as likely to be filled with roses and dust.

A sudden spark of remembrance sent his mind back to when he'd witnessed Keelgrave — in a memory, of course — channel mana into his self-cleaning clothes to dry himself off. He'd already found a few simple magical items, including that rug that must have had a similar enchantment, but not clothes. Well, he'd found mundane servant's clothes in the lower floor bedrooms, but the nicer upper floor ones had been quite bare. He assumed the manor had been built to accommodate more nobles than just Lady Renske and had been sitting empty and disused, even when she was alive.

Speaking of, he hadn't found her bedroom. That meant it was either in the tower or in the collapsed wing of the manor. He'd find out which one it was once he managed to get into the tower, which would be a task in and of itself. He'd already checked over the only entrance to it he'd managed to find, which was located at the very end of this upper hallway. It was made of dark wood like all the other doors in the building, but was banded with a dozen strips of metal, presumably iron or steel. He even suspected that it was made of that mana iron that the mine was known for, as the material was completely unrusted and entirely unblemished. Not even the tiniest of scratches marred its surface.

This was the last room I had to check, so that means there aren't any monsters hiding out here. If there are any in the tower, there's no way they're getting through that door.

He'd tried turning the polished door handle, just to make sure nothing was about to come out and attack him once he turned his back on it, but it had been locked. Curiously, he hadn't been able to find any keyholes. With the area now secured, his next step was to return to his friends still waiting outside the mist and fill them in on what had happened. Then, he'd try and get them a resistance to take them through the barrier, and they could figure out how to get through the locked door together. Worst case scenario, Atabek could probably break through the wooden parts, given enough time. Aslan could also read Common, so Symon could get him to check over the books if he hadn't been able to wake Keelgrave up in time.

He turned away from the window he'd been absentmindedly gazing through, took a few steps forward, then stopped in his tracks. Something odd about the desk in the center of the room had just caught his attention, a new detail highlighted by the dim light streaming in from the now opened drapes.

The desk was a single large, solid block of wood, or at least, that's what he had initially believed. When the sole source of illumination wasn't a tiny, flickering torch, he was able to see a clear seam in wood. It had no handle or other indication of its existence, but it was definitely a drawer.

"Of course, there'd be a hidden compartment," he chuckled softly to himself. Feeling like a spy, he crouched down next to the drawer and inspected it more closely, attempting to figure out how to get it open. There weren't any buttons or levers, not even on the underside of the desk, so he resorted to the old-fashioned way. Just in case it was trapped — he wouldn't put it past an exiled noblewoman to want to keep her most important documents extra safe — he scooted a little to the side and slowly slid his sword into the seam.

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His motions were hesitant at first, but he quickly grew more confident once nothing happened. Chances were he would have survived even if it were trapped, but that wasn't the type of thing he wanted to test. Besides, it might ruin the contents. He didn't have a real plan for how he was going to get it open, but shimmying the blade around inside ended up working well. It didn't take him long before he felt his blade poke against something metallic, so he pressed against it a little harder.

With a gentle click, the drawer popped open like a cash register, sending its contents rattling around. Wearing a self-satisfied smile at a successful first lockpicking attempt, he brushed the dust off from where he'd been kneeling and peeked into the drawer.

Predictably, it was mostly paper documents that he couldn't read, although he did recognise some architectural drawings of the manor. Even after paging through the whole stack, he saw no reference to the tower. Even the doorway to it was just a solid wall in the original plans. Next up, he pulled out a small but heavy pouch that clinked enticingly as he extricated it from its spot. Opening up the drawstring, he saw a good collection of coins, an equal mix of gold and silver. It wasn't a life-changing amount of money, especially not for a Healer, but it would last him a while, especially in this poor village.

He tightened the drawstring again and dropped the entire pouch wholesale into his pack before plucking out the remaining interesting item, which he found stuck in the back corner after a close inspection. It was a thin ring, a muddy turquoise in colour, and didn't look like much to the untrained eye. Technically, Symon was included in this demographic, but he cheated. He recognised this from one of the earlier memory dreams.

"A translation ring! Jackpot!" he exclaimed aloud in his excitement, bringing it up to his eye for a closer look. It seemed old and a little faded, but not nearly as decrepit and cobbled together as the one that malfunctioned when Keelgrave had tried to use it. He hadn't even considered that someone with the will and gold to enchant a damn rug would probably have a translation ring in their study too, so he was glad he'd noticed the hidden drawer.

He eyed all the books on the wall and spared a glance at the documents in the drawer. Even if the ring let him read as fast as a native — and he wasn't sure if that would be the case — it would take quite some time to get through all of the books and documents. It wasn't a time-sensitive matter either, so it would be best for him to find some food for the convalescing elf and return to his Dumosan friends before locking himself in the study.

As he left the room and began heading downstairs, he checked over the state of his vessel. The ratio of impure to normal vitality had improved a lot, and by now it was down to less than half of what it had started as. Keelgrave would likely wake up even before it was entirely converted, so it wouldn't be long before he was back — he was confident in saying it would be less than a half hour.

His fingers left a trail in the thick dust along the top of the banister as he walked down the staircase, his thoughts on his spirit companion. He'd enjoyed having a break and a bit more privacy in his thoughts. Keelgrave couldn't actually read his mind, but he could pick up his internal monologue if Symon got distracted and didn't deliberately block him out. He had to admit that the old ghost could be very helpful, though. He would have known that a rich woman would have a translation ring in her office and saved him from playing charades with the elf, and he would probably have some useful advice regarding finding a way to turn off the mist wall, although Symon was happy to just help everyone train their Poison Resistance.

Also, his ability to sense life would have been comforting to have while clearing the manor's interior, although Symon's thread could reach far enough now that it could serve a similar purpose, as long as there were no plants to distract it.

He shrugged to himself as he reached the bottom floor. He'd tried to boil down how he felt about Keelgrave many times and been largely unsuccessful every time. They were allies of circumstance with a certain amount of begrudging respect, and that would just have to be good enough for now.

He did his best to clean his hand of all the dust he had inadvertently picked up and then slipped on the translation ring. He felt nothing blatantly magical as it slid onto his finger, finding it fit snugly just below the second knuckle. It was slightly cool, but he assumed that it was just because of the material and not because of magic.

He stopped outside the door to the bedroom the elf was in, intent on putting the new ring to good use so that he could sort out her problem and reunite with his friends. He felt a little bad about exploring the mansion while they all waited outside, but he couldn't have a hidden monster pop out to eat the sickly woman the second he left her.

He knocked a few times before slowly opening the door, attempting not to alarm her in case she'd gone to sleep. He needn't have bothered, as she was in the exact same position he'd left her in, knees to her chest as she stared wide-eyed at the door. Really, her eyes were just naturally overly large and weren't any wider than usual.

"Hello, it's me again," he started. He raised his hand and wiggled his fingers, showing off the ring he'd found. She flinched and hissed slightly at the movement, so he lowered his hand again, but her eyes were locked onto the ring. "Can you understand me alright? I'm not sure if this thing works both ways."

She tilted her head, the same confused, scared, and angry expression on her face that she always had.

"Hmm, I guess that's a no. Maybe I have to turn it on— oh goddamnit, I remember now. It doesn't charge itself," he groaned. She looked at him like he was stupid, then pointed a clawed finger at the ring a few times, urging him to use it. "Yes, yes, I'm trying, but I don't have any mana. Although I've still got those old fish cores in my pack..."

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