I Loaded the Mysticism Panel

Back in his room, Richard began his nightly routine: practicing his Breathing Technique and nurturing his Marvel.

The lamp’s body shot from lukewarm to scorching hot before settling back to a critical point somewhere between "scalding" and "bearable."

The wisp of pure Ether in his Spiritual Appearance automatically separated itself. Mixed Ether flowed in through his fingertips, and the lamp’s body responded.

It was as routine as tying his shoelaces.

And because he was so practiced, his mind was free to wander to other matters tonight.

He was thinking about the deal that fell through at the first gathering.

Aries’s Three-Ring Enchanted Bullet.

Logically, an Enchanted Bullet of that caliber should have been useful to everyone present.

The bullet’s effect didn’t rely on the shooter’s Ether. It activated on impact. Even a Newcomer could use it against a Spirit Body far beyond their own rank.

But in the end, Aries had put the six rounds back into their iron box.

Richard had filed the matter away at the time, not giving it much thought on the spot.

Now, during the lull in nurturing his Marvel, he reconsidered it.

Aries hadn’t traded away his Enchanted Bullet, and it wasn’t just because the others didn’t have what he wanted.

When Dionysus had spread out the parchment with the Perception Shielding Technique, Prometheus’s gaze had been fixed on it.

But he hadn’t said a thing. He didn’t ask about its effects, its side effects, or any restrictions on its target for Casting.

At the time, Richard hadn’t understood why Prometheus didn’t ask for more details about the Technique.

Now, he understood.

Prometheus had no way to verify it.

Dionysus claimed the parchment contained a complete Technique, allowing a Practitioner to cast it independently for a six-hour effect that would evade any remote Perception-type Technique locks.

The truth of these claims, the Technique’s side effects, whether there was a hidden backdoor in the Casting process—none of it could be confirmed on the spot.

’What if I take a copy of the Technique back, only to find it has a backdoor left by Dionysus?’

Prometheus would never bet his own safety on an unverifiable Technique.

The same logic applied to Aries’s Enchanted Bullet.

Was the bullet’s Inscription Ring really a Three-Ring?

The outermost ring—was it for "Anchoring" or something else entirely?

These things couldn’t be judged by the naked eye, and no one at the Round Table was a qualified appraiser.

Hecate could use a Spirit Realm Messenger to deliver items between members.

She could handle delivery, and she could also handle "appraisals."

But the three of them remained wary. On one hand, they didn’t trust her; on the other, they were likely afraid Hecate’s "discretionary" fee would be too high.

After this thought had run its course through his mind, Richard removed his right hand from the lamp’s body.

The lamp’s scorching heat slowly subsided.

[Spiritual Appearance] 9/10.

He took a notebook from his drawer and flipped to the "Intermediary" section.

He wrote down the word "broker."

He glanced down at his panel.

The panel could directly confirm whether an item was a Marvel or not.

For an ordinary Practitioner to appraise a Marvel, they had to rely on Spiritual Vision, cross-reference inscription diagrams, verify its age and origin... any step could lead to an error.

But for every Marvel he handled, he could gain Points from it.

’Perhaps my career as an intermediary appraiser could set sail right here, with the Divine Pantheon Salon.’

The business of intermediary appraisal depended on three things: accurate appraisals, not damaging the consigned items, and the client’s trust.

Many Marvels were protected by a Seal, which could not be broken during the appraisal process.

Once broken, the contents could be damaged, leak out, or even affect innocent bystanders (the night at Nail Lane was still fresh in his memory).

A qualified appraiser had to be able to read a Seal’s structure, estimate its integrity, and judge the approximate density and nature of the Ether within the Marvel, all without breaking the Seal.

This required a sufficiently high-precision Spiritual Vision, one that could "see" what was inside the Seal.

As for trustworthiness, that would have to be built up slowly over time with a portfolio of successful cases.

There were no shortcuts; it could only be built case by case.

’I can tell real from fake at a glance, but that’s not enough.’

’I also need to be able to see clearly what’s inside a Seal and whether the Marvel itself contains a triggered trap.’

Only with a high enough Spiritual Vision could he see through the Seal.

Divination, on the other hand, could verify if an item had a triggered trap before he even handled it, but his current basic Divination probably wasn’t up to the task.

He had already gotten the hang of Wax Reading.

But after Wax Reading came Stone Reading, and after Stone Reading, there were even more advanced methods of Divination, which Old Big had said he himself hadn’t fully mastered.

Now that [Perception] was lit up, his progress in this area would be faster. He needed to find a more skilled teacher.

Richard added an annotation under the "Divination" line: "Beyond Stone Reading, a must."

* * *

Early Saturday morning, Evelyn didn’t come downstairs.

While his mother was frying eggs in the kitchen, Richard went in to help out.

"Mom, Evelyn almost cried last night."

"I know." Margaret deftly scooped the fried egg onto a plate, the yolk still intact.

"She doesn’t want to go to preparatory school."

His mother set the spatula down by the stove and wiped her hands on her apron.

"Your father has his reasons. It’s truly difficult for people without a degree."

Margaret flipped the toast.

"He walked that path himself, so he believes in it. You can’t say he’s wrong."

"I’m not saying he’s wrong," Richard said, placing the plates one by one onto a tray. "I’m saying that path isn’t right for Evelyn."

"Whether it’s right for her is one thing. Whether your father is willing to accept that is another."

Margaret placed the toast on a plate, then scooped a small pat of butter from a jar and set it beside the bread.

Four breakfasts were arranged neatly on the tray.

She took one of them out first and placed it on the dining table at Rogers’s spot.

Then she returned to the kitchen, ready to hand a plate to Richard.

Before handing it over, her fingers paused on the edge of the plate for a moment.

"When you’re stable in the future, can you help support your sister’s path?"

The question was very direct.

Richard took the plate without any hesitation. "Of course."

Margaret nodded, satisfied.

The kettle on the stove began to steam, its lid rattling softly.

"If it really comes to it, I’ll write a letter to my father."

His mother said casually over the hissing of the steam,

"Your grandfather actually helped find a way for all those relatives in the Ashford Family with absolutely no aptitude.

Evelyn is his granddaughter; there’s no way he’d completely ignore her."

Richard placed the plate on the tray, frowning.

"Mom, let’s not go down that road unless it’s absolutely necessary."

"We’ll see when the time comes." Margaret poured two cups of tea.

She pushed one to Richard and kept one for herself.

"Let your father cool down for a few days first. You can’t rush these things. He needs time."

"What about Evelyn? She hasn’t eaten breakfast."

"Don’t worry about her." Margaret put down the teapot.

"With her temper, she’ll behave once she gets a little hungry.

After you and Rogers have both left, she’ll definitely sneak down to find something to eat."

Richard pictured the scene and almost laughed out loud.

His sister could be stubborn, but her stomach never took the same side as her temper.

"I’ll leave her portion under a pot lid to keep it warm. She can come get it herself."

Margaret turned down the stove’s flame.

While they were talking, Rogers had already wolfed down his breakfast outside.

He grabbed his coat and briefcase, said goodbye to his wife and son, and hurried out the door.

At 9:30 in the morning, the Dawn family’s carriage pulled up on time in front of the Williams Family home.

Richard boarded the carriage, carrying a school bag that was even more stuffed than last week’s.

Besides his textbook and notebook, he had brought one extra thing today.

Upon arriving at Dawn Mansion, a maid led him into the small drawing-room.

Tom was already waiting at the table.

Charlotte came in from the doorway, a teapot in her hands.

She placed the teapot on a side table, her eyes falling on the roll of parchment in Richard’s arms.

"A new teaching aid today?"

"You could say that."

Richard untied the thin string around the parchment and spread it out on the table.

The entire sheet was about a yard square, and its edges had been ironed flat.

Evelyn had done it for him when she was ironing shirts.

Drawn on the parchment was a map.

It had a crooked coastline, a few small islands, several crudely drawn sailboats, and a distant ocean represented by wavy lines.

The islands were covered in various symbols—coconut trees, treasure chests, skull flags, caves—and next to each symbol was a Latin word.

Tom’s eyes lit up instantly.

"Is this..."

"A pirate map."

Richard used the plates on the table to weigh down the four corners of the map.

"Today, we’re learning the second declension."

"*Servus*, slave; *dominus*, master; *puer*, boy..."

Tom reeled off a few, the ones Richard had asked him to study last week.

"Correct."

"But today, we’re not just going to memorize endings."

Richard took a sharply-pointed pencil from his bag and handed it to Tom.

"There are eight islands on this map, and each one hides a different treasure."

Tom was already gripping the pencil tightly.

"The treasures come in all forms: gold coins, barrels of wine, slaves, boys, masters, books, battlefields, and gifts."

"All the treasures are labeled with Latin words, but the treasure on each island has been hidden by the pirates in a different way."

"Alright, let your adventure begin."

With learning made into a game, time flew by.

By the time Richard rolled up the map, Tom was thinking for the first time that a lesson could pass so quickly.

"Will there be pirates next week?" Tom asked.

"...I’m out of pirates."

"Then is there something else?"

Richard thought for a moment. "Then let’s do a factory."

Tom blinked. "A factory?"

"Yes, a factory."

Richard put the map back in his bag.

"I’m tightening screws at station one, you’re painting at station two, he’s installing gears at station three... The action at each station is part of the same process, but the person in charge is different."

"The verb stem is the process, and the ending is the station number."

Tom CRUNCHED on a cookie, his eyes lighting up again.

"Then I want to see a picture of the factory next week!"

"I’ll draw one."

Lunch, as usual, was prepared by the Dawn family’s cook.

Today’s main course was roasted chicken legs with potatoes, with a small side dish of shredded carrots in vinaigrette.

After Richard’s [Eating] skill leveled up, it squeezed every last drop of nutrition from each bite.

After lunch, Charlotte walked him to the door.

When they reached the steps, she took a small envelope from her apron pocket.

"This is this week’s tutoring fee."

"Thank you."

"Also, my mother asked me to give you this as well."

She took out another envelope.

Richard took it and weighed it in his hand. It was much heavier than the first.

"What’s this?"

"Tom placed seventh in his class on his Latin test this Wednesday."

Charlotte was clearly very happy as she said this.

"Last semester, he was ranked fifth from the bottom."

"...That’s quite a big improvement."

"It’s more than just ’quite big.’" Charlotte smiled.

"When my mother got the notice from the school yesterday, she almost dropped her cup."

"She called my father that night, and he said he wanted to give you a bonus."

Richard opened the envelope.

Inside were two brand-new sovereign gold coins, which was two pounds.

"Please thank Mr. Dawn for me."

Charlotte watched him walk to the carriage, then called out to him again.

"Mr. Williams, will you have time to continue tutoring during the Christmas holiday?"

Richard blinked. He had almost forgotten about that.

He actually couldn’t take on sessions during the Christmas holiday. Mr. Hutton had arranged a winter internship for him.

"During the Christmas holiday, I might have to go out of town." He didn’t elaborate.

"My teacher has arranged a study assignment for me. I might have to visit a few cities in the North."

"For about how long?"

"At least a week."

Charlotte’s expression didn’t change. "Then we’ll continue after the next semester starts."

"Alright." Richard began assigning homework.

"During the holiday, have him do one translation exercise every evening. They aren’t difficult and can be finished in under half an hour."

"Also, have Tom draw a map himself and illustrate the vocabulary he’s learned this semester by scene.

Pirates, factories, Temples, markets—he can choose whatever he likes."

"If he completes these two assignments, he won’t forget what he’s learned this semester when school starts again."

Charlotte took the paper. "My mother will definitely make sure he does it."

"Don’t watch him too closely, though."

Richard had fully slipped into the role of a teacher. "A holiday is a holiday. It’s okay if he misses a day or two."

Charlotte put away the assignment list. "We’ll schedule a time during the first week of the semester."

"Okay. There’s still class tomorrow morning and next week, so I’ll see you then."