I Loaded the Mysticism Panel

He first brought out a stone sculpture.

It was about the size of two adult fists, made of gray-black stone, and its carving was rough yet powerful.

It was shaped like a squatting Gargoyle.

Its wings were half-spread against its back, its head was stretched forward, and its mouth was wide open.

The mouth was uniquely crafted; the gap between its upper and lower fangs had been deliberately chiseled into a hollow channel, as if the Gargoyle were breathing out in a certain direction.

Its base was perfectly square, with different symbols carved on each of its four sides.

Richard recognized at first glance that the style of the symbols was different from the Priest’s Inscriptions of the Black Earth River Basin.

The strokes were rounder, with flowing lines connecting them. It was an ancient inscription system native to the Western Continent.

Gerald placed the Gargoyle on the desk. The stone base made a dull thud as it met the tabletop.

Richard took two steps closer. The panel showed no reaction.

’It’s inert, just as clean as the other ornaments in the study... No, that’s not right.’

The bronze sculptures and silver candlesticks in the study didn’t trigger the panel because they had no accumulated contamination within them.

The Gargoyle was different.

As he approached, the warmth in his chest from the Throne of the Sun trembled slightly. His internal circulation told him there was something inside the stone.

But the panel remained unresponsive.

There was only one explanation: the Seal was too tight. The Ether was locked inside so perfectly that not even the smallest amount could seep out.

Gerald stood by the desk, watching the subtle change in his grandson’s expression as he approached the Gargoyle.

"You can feel something inside?"

Richard nodded.

Gerald brought his right hand out from behind his back and rested his fingertips on the Gargoyle’s head.

The Inscriptions on the Gargoyle’s base lit up, and the panel flickered to life.

[Available Points: 0.52]

The Seal had been opened just a crack, and Ether began to leak out through the gap.

But the old man had only opened it partway.

A cake you can savor is more valuable than one you swallow in a single bite. He was clearly doing this on purpose.

"Take this with you."

He removed his hand from the Gargoyle’s head.

"What’s sealed inside?" Richard asked.

Gerald sat down in the chair beside the desk and crossed his legs.

"To be honest, I only know the general category. I can’t say for sure what the specific contents are."

That sounded a bit strange. Richard waited for a further explanation.

"This Gargoyle isn’t one of our family’s heirlooms."

He tapped the Gargoyle’s wing lightly with his finger.

"Sealed inside is a Scholar’s Secret Technique."

"Scholars have a habit of inscribing important things into artifacts."

Richard stepped closer, turned the Gargoyle over, and carefully examined the four sets of Inscriptions on the bottom.

Each set of Inscriptions varied in length, symbol arrangement, and density.

"You’ll have to figure out how to decipher the four Inscriptions yourself. Since you managed to chew through all that steganography in a month, this shouldn’t take you too long either."

As Richard took the Gargoyle, a question came to mind.

"According to what you said before, my aunt is also on the Scholar’s path. Wouldn’t she need this?"

Gerald waved his hand dismissively. "Your aunt saw this thing ten years ago. She has no use for the Secret Technique inside."

He tapped the Gargoyle’s wing with his knuckle.

"Besides, the path she follows isn’t the same branch as what’s inscribed in here."

"To her, it’s just an old textbook from another discipline, left on the shelf to collect dust."

"But for someone like you who’s just starting out, it’s a perfect fit."

The old man leaned back in his chair.

"If you want to climb the ranks of the academic system, the Cicero Cup is one of their screening platforms."

"Placing in the competition will get you on their radar. Once you’re on their radar, they should gradually guide you on how to proceed."

"The benefits of the academic system are independence, freedom, and fewer administrative constraints."

"It has a complete promotion track and a peer review system. As long as you have the ability, you won’t be denied the position you deserve."

"Of course, I’ll also be clear about the support the Ashford Family can provide."

Gerald sat up straight.

"First, guidance on information and direction."

"Which places in the Imperial Capital are safe, which places to avoid, who you can associate with, and who you must stay away from... I can tell you everything I know about these things."

"Second, introductions to my network. Once you’ve found your footing over there, the Ashford name can be of help."

"Third... Vincent."

Gerald’s tone softened as he said this.

"It’s a common practice on the Mysterious Side for Scholars to have Hunters protecting them when they’re out in the field."

"In the future, if you really make a name for yourself as a Scholar, Vincent and a few of the family’s other promising young Hunters can be assigned as your Hunter Guards."

"Consider it compensation for that past incident. If he really dies taking a blade for you one day, it will be a life for a life."

Richard mentally sorted through these promises one by one.

’Guidance, introductions, a future Hunter Guard... The sincerity is certainly there.’

But every one of them came with a shared prerequisite: "after you’ve made something of yourself."

To put it bluntly: he had to first prove he was worth investing in before any further investment would follow.

Until then, he had to walk the path alone.

Gerald looked Richard directly in the eyes.

"Consider the Gargoyle my personal compensation to you."

"Even if you have no further dealings with the Ashfords in the future, this item is yours. No one will come to take it back."

Gerald then pulled a flat wooden box from a drawer.

The lid of the box was carved with the Ashford family crest: an oak tree and a rampant lion.

"This is for you, too."

He pushed the wooden box across the desk, placing it next to the Gargoyle.

"Inside are some things you might find useful in the Imperial Capital. It’s not much, but it’s enough to handle your immediate needs."

"After the Cicero Cup is over, you are welcome to live here permanently if you wish. The gates of the Ashford Family will always be open to you."

The conversation was nearing its end. The Furnace Fire was also dying down, and the temperature in the study was slowly dropping.

"Go get some rest," Gerald said. "Don’t you still need to prepare for the Cicero Cup competition?"

Richard tucked the wooden box under one arm and held the Gargoyle with his other hand. "I’ll head back to my room, then."

"Go on."

​

Richard walked down the hallway toward his guest room. The two items in his hands were quite heavy.

He glanced down at the wooden box tucked under his arm and the Gargoyle he was carrying, feeling like a manual laborer hauling goods.

But to gain so much from a single conversation was a good problem to have.

As he rounded a corner, he saw his mother standing by a window at the far end of the hall.

The curtain was pulled back just a corner, and the moonlight cast a pale, deathly glow on the side of her face.

Margaret was wearing the same old dress she had arrived in, with a thin cardigan wrapped over it. Her arms were crossed over her chest.

Her posture was completely different from how she had held herself in the living room during the day.

During the day, her back had been ramrod straight, her expression proper yet distant, every movement a product of lifelong training.

Now, her shoulders were slumped, and she was leaning against the window frame. She had clearly been standing there for a long time.

She was waiting for her son.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!