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Project GB is an official initiative by Re:Library.

“Are… are you alright, Instructor?”
“Ha… Huff… Isn’t this staircase a bit… too long…?”

Descending was exhausting enough; apparently, even just walking down a staircase could drain a person’s stamina significantly. The stone steps hidden beneath the floor stretched deep into the earth, and making my way down was proving to be quite the trial for my body.

To make matters worse, this oppressive, claustrophobic atmosphere reminded me of the prison where I’d been imprisoned for a thousand years. My breath grew more labored as memories of that time resurfaced.

“If you’d like, I could carry you on my back—”
“No need! I’ll walk on my own legs!”
“I-I see, understood.”

The ceiling was too low to use wind magecraft to float, leaving me no choice but to rely on my own strength. Judging by the echo of our footsteps, it seemed like this staircase would continue for quite some time. But still, my pride wouldn’t allow me to accept her offer.

“This is quite the long staircase… What could you possibly need to hide that requires such a descent?”
“My apologies. It’s all necessary to hide what’s kept below… By the way, Instructor, how much do you know about the Umravolf family?”
“I don’t have much detailed information. I know the family rose to nobility after one of their ancestors earned military honors.”
“Yes, but does that explanation not strike you as odd in any way?”
“…Their wealth, perhaps? For an upstart noble family, they seem far too prosperous.”

I wasn’t sure of the current value of money, but it was clear that providing multiple mansions for several ladies was excessive, even for a noble. Such extravagance would normally deplete anyone’s wealth in no time. And yet, the Umravolf family continued to live in luxury.

I’d had opportunities to observe the interior of the estate, and it wasn’t just a hollow façade to flaunt their riches. No, the opulence was genuine. So where was their funding coming from?

“The Umravolf family is the only lineage entrusted with passing down a grim history related to the Ghost Ship. Because of this, they are both watched over and granted certain privileges by the nation.”
“Watched by the nation? But isn’t dealing with the Ghost Ship the responsibility of a Saint?”
“Have you heard this from the Saint already? You’re correct. However, there’s a distinction between what sorcerers like the Saint handle and what us wizards are responsible for.”
“…I don’t quite follow. Why separate the ones dealing with the threat from those managing the information?”

The Saint had so little knowledge about ghost ships that during last night’s battle, she was fumbling in the dark for a solution.

Not knowing anything when disaster strikes was nothing but a risk. Information should be shared whenever possible.

“If she learns too much, the Saint’s prayers will become clouded. Only those who possess holy power strong enough to resist a concentrated curse can wield it, and the user must be a Saint of equal caliber.”
“Are you saying that the overly compassionate would pity that thing?”
“Yes, in fact, the reason the previous Saint passed away was because she tried to save the ghost ship.”
“…!”

I had heard from the Saint that the previous one had died in the line of duty, but I never expected it to be connected to something like this.

“We lost a truly remarkable person. The previous Saint realized the secret of the Umravolf family and uncovered it all by herself.”
“Quite an impressive investigative ability. But are you sure it’s alright to tell me something that’s supposed to be kept so secret?”
“You wouldn’t back down until you were satisfied, would you? So, if I’m going to stand by and oversee things, it puts my mind at ease.”
“Well, I guess I’m trusted, then…”

Just as the echoing footsteps began to give me a slight ringing in my ears, the lady leading me came to a halt.

At last, the stairs came to an end, and before us stood a rusty iron door, looming large.

This door, too, had no special opening mechanism. It was designed to be forced open by sheer strength, with arms enhanced by magecraft.

“It’s simple, but that makes it harder for a wizard to notice. No wonder it’s gone undiscovered.”
“If it gets your seal of approval, I can rest easy. Please, step back a little.”

Murmuring a brief incantation, she pried open the thick iron door.

The room beyond, surprisingly small, was filled with countless stone tablets, each inscribed with text.

And on the pedestal in the center sat a single book bound in leather.

“Is this… all about the ghost ship? How long ago did they start writing this?”
“I’ve heard it spans roughly a thousand years of history.”
“A thousand years!?”

In other words, this room contained the history from the time I was imprisoned all the way to the present day.

Without waiting for her permission, I rudely pulled out one of the nearest tablets to examine it in detail… but—

“—I… can’t… read it…!?”

The text engraved on the tablet, preserved for the long term, was clearly recognizable despite some wear and tear.

But I couldn’t understand it. I knew the letters were there, but the language carved into the stone was completely foreign to me.

Even with Babel’s automatic translation, I couldn’t decipher a single character on the tablet.

“Unfortunately, it seems that even Babel’s blessing cannot reach such old information, making it difficult to read.”
“Is there no way to decipher it? This is still a language, isn’t it, even if it can’t be translated?”

The woman simply shook her head without giving an answer.

If a family with a history as long as theirs couldn’t decode it, there was no way I could manage it with just a day’s effort. I had hoped to find a clue about the missing 1,000 years, but for now, it seemed I’d have to give up.

“You said the old writings can’t be read. Then does Babel’s power work on more modern records?”
“Yes. The entries concerning the ghost ship, which have been carefully selected and compiled, are in this book.”

The woman removed the glass case protecting it from dust and gently took the book from the pedestal in the center.

As I accepted the book, the weight of the history contained within pressed down on my palms.

It was a thick volume—reading through it carefully would take more than a day, perhaps even until dawn.

“…I’ll need some time.”
“Of course, take all the time you need.”

Given how securely it had been stored, it was obvious that I wouldn’t be allowed to take it outside. As frustrating as it was, I had no choice but to skim through it here and ask the lady about any finer details.

Placing my hand on the spotless cover, I flipped open to the first page. What greeted me there was the “regret” left behind by someone long deceased, scrawled in crude handwriting.

―People of the Umravolf family, we have failed―

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