I Loaded the Mysticism Panel

"I understand," Richard nodded.

"Good that you understand." Mr. Hutton flipped the lesson plan back to the first page and picked up his red pen, ready to continue making notes.

"One more thing. You and Lillian have been getting rather close lately."

Richard didn't answer, waiting for him to continue.

Mr. Hutton's choice of words became exceptionally deliberate.

"Last time you asked about her, I avoided the question. I still don't plan to discuss her situation directly."

He took the cap off his red pen and put it back on.

"But there is one thing I can say."

"That child's talent for study is no less than yours. In fact, her meticulousness in certain areas surpasses yours."

"She's spent more time than you on those books on the third floor. Some of the passages you skimmed over, she pored over word by word."

Mr. Hutton screwed the cap on tightly.

"But she's stopped in one place, and she's been stuck there for over half a year."

Mr. Hutton drew a line on the lesson plan.

"I'm not asking you to be her teacher. You're still a long way from graduating yourself."

"But there are things friends can say to each other that a teacher cannot."

"She spent half a year going through the books on the third floor, pushed the door open a crack, took a look inside, and retreated because she thought it was too dark."

"Some psychological hurdles, some doors one can't push open alone... it feels different if there's someone else standing beside you, pushing too."

After saying this, the old gentleman lowered his head, his full attention returning to the lesson plan.

'The boundaries of his words were clear: I won't interfere in your relationship, but if you can lend a hand along the way, then do so.'

'Whether you can help, and to what extent, that's your business, not an assignment from me.'

Richard didn't promise anything on the spot.

He had a general idea of Lillian's situation.

From bumping into her at the turn of the stairs on the afternoon of the Divination Disc incident, to the note before the Cicero Cup, to the quiet figure who would occasionally appear at the edge of his vision on the second floor of the library.

She was constantly lingering at the edge of the Curtain. Her hand had already touched the doorframe, but she had never taken the step across.

He understood what Mr. Hutton meant by a "psychological hurdle."

Intellectual barriers could be worn down with time and talent, but psychological thresholds needed something else to pry them open.

Courage, or a fellow traveler.

He didn't dwell on the topic of Lillian, instead asking another question he'd been mulling over.

"Sir, I'd like to confirm the upcoming schedule with you."

Mr. Hutton's pen didn't stop. "Go ahead."

"The Imperial academic system is generally three terms a year."

"We're now at the tail end of the autumn term, with the Christmas holiday beginning at the end of December."

"After the Christmas holiday is the spring term, from roughly early January to the end of March."

"Then there's the Easter holiday, followed by the summer term, which ends in late June."

"That's correct."

"The winter internship you mentioned is scheduled during the Christmas holiday, meaning the period from late December to early January."

"Right."

"And what about after the summer term ends?"

Mr. Hutton's pen stopped.

He pushed the lesson plan toward the middle of the desk and leaned back in his chair.

"You're asking about the summer arrangements."

"Yes."

"I believe I told you before that there will be a summer research program in the Imperial Capital."

Richard nodded.

Greenwood itself had a university preparatory program; the upperclassmen in the hallways were enrolled in those preparatory courses.

After this academic year, the normal procedure would be for him to move directly into Greenwood's preparatory program.

He would study in Brighton for another two years, then take the university entrance exams.

If he took this path, he could get into two of the local colleges in Brighton.

The admission standards weren't high, and the quality of teaching was decent. For most Greenwood students, this was already a very respectable path.

But after learning the secrets of the college system, this path was no longer an option for Richard.

Imperial University, the Royal Academy, Saint Augustine College... what stood behind these names far exceeded what the glamorous titles in the newspapers could convey.

The true core resources, the connections, and the paths leading deeper behind the Curtain were all concentrated within the walls of those few top universities in the Imperial Capital.

Greenwood's preparatory program couldn't cultivate the abilities he needed, and the local colleges in Brighton certainly couldn't either.

He had only one choice: after this academic year, he would go to the Imperial Capital for his preparatory studies.

And the gateway into Imperial University's preparatory program was the summer research program.

Every summer, the major universities in the Imperial Capital would recruit a group of outstanding students from across the country for several weeks of intensive evaluation.

Those who passed would be placed directly into the preparatory program. Those who failed would return to their hometowns to continue their studies and try again the following year.

Aside from the local students who had attended school in the Imperial Capital since childhood, this was the only official channel for students from other regions to squeeze into the top universities.

Richard meticulously planned out the timeline in his head.

It was now mid-November, leaving about seven months until the end of the summer term.

'The things I need to do in those seven months are:'

'Learn the Ancient Greek Language and decipher the Secret Technique on the Gargoyle;'

'Complete the winter internship and secure the certification;'

'Continue my Breathing Technique practice and strive to push [Breathing] to Level 3;'

'And break the Seal on the Sphinx Oil Lamp, unlock all four aspects of [Body], and see what's going on with [Spirit].'

Time was tight, like sand clutched in a fist, leaking out the moment he loosened his grip.

"Sir, what is the content of the summer research program?"

"Different universities have different arrangements. The summer research program for Imperial University's Classics Department lasts for four weeks."

"The first two weeks are intensive lectures and evaluations, and the last two weeks are for specialized research led by a Mentor."

Mr. Hutton pulled a thin booklet from the bookshelf and flipped it open to a specific page on his desk.

"At the end of the four weeks, there's a comprehensive assessment. Those who pass will directly enter the preparatory program for Imperial University's Classics Department."

He closed the booklet.

"Those who don't pass can choose to return to their original school to continue their studies and try again next year."

"Or they can attend a regular university preparatory program, which I assume is not something you're considering."

"Based on past years, the pass rate for the summer research program is about twenty percent."

'A twenty-percent pass rate. That's much more lenient than I thought.'

But the people qualified to attend the program were already the cream of the crop, selected from all over the country.

A twenty-percent pass rate meant that the vast majority of these top students would be weeded out.

"The competitive environment in the Imperial Capital is completely different from Brighton," Mr. Hutton said, as if he had read Richard's mind.

"At Greenwood, you're a crane standing among chickens. In the Imperial Capital, you'll be a crane standing among other cranes."

He put the booklet back on the shelf, his fingers pausing on its spine.

"But you don't need to be too nervous. Your Cicero Cup results and the recommendation list are just the ticket to get in the door. Once you're inside, it's all about real ability."

"In that regard, I'm not too worried about you."

He picked up his red pen again.

"As for the Ancient Greek Language, though, you need to hurry up with that."

"There's a classical language exam in the summer research program's assessment, covering both Latin and the Ancient Greek Language."

"You have no problem with Latin anymore, but if you turn in a blank paper for Ancient Greek, the looks the judges give you will be... interesting."

Richard shook his head and chuckled.

'Another reason I have to learn the Ancient Greek Language.'

Fortunately, the two tasks could run in parallel: learning the Ancient Greek Language was for both deciphering the encrypted Inscription and for the summer program's assessment.

One key to open two doors. The time investment wouldn't be wasted.

Richard pulled the door closed and stepped into the hallway.

Mr. Hutton didn't look up, his red pen still moving across the lesson plan.

"Richard."

"Sir?"

"You're the first student in this school to come and knock on my office door of their own initiative."

"It was always me keeping people behind. This time, it's the other way around."

"Do you not want students knocking on your door, Sir?"

"Of course I do." Mr. Hutton screwed the cap onto his pen. "I've been waiting a long time."

He closed the lesson plan, folded it neatly, and placed it on the corner of his desk.

"Go on. There are a couple of introductory reference books for the Ancient Greek Language on the third floor of the library. Find them yourself."

He added, "They aren't with that row of unlabeled shelves. They're proper language textbooks, located on the second shelf of the linguistics section."

"Understood."

...

By the time he left the academic building, the hallways were mostly empty.

Most students had gone to the sports field or returned to their classrooms for a midday nap, leaving the corridors filled with nothing but the hollow echo of his footsteps bouncing off the walls.

Richard walked along the covered walkway toward the library.

The red-brick building was a couple of shades darker on this overcast day than on a sunny one, which made the light shining from the windows seem even more distinct.

He went up to the third floor and walked straight to the linguistics section.

Located more than half a floor's length away from the row of unlabeled shelves, the bookshelves in the linguistics section had neat classification cards and clear numbering.

Second shelf. Richard crouched down and scanned the spines.

There were several textbooks for the Ancient Greek Language. He chose two that were suitable for absolute beginners.

The first was an introduction to grammar, of moderate thickness, with an illustration of the Parthenon Temple on its cover.

The second was an Ancient Greek Language-Albion Language bilingual dictionary, as heavy as a brick.

He carried both books out and stacked them on a table by the window.

The Ancient Greek Language and Latin belonged to the same language family, with a great deal of overlap in their root words.

His foundation in Latin would allow him to skip a significant amount of vocabulary memorization.

However, the Ancient Greek grammatical system had a few more things than Latin: the middle voice, the optative mood, dual number declensions...

Just by looking at the table of contents in the grammar introduction, he could tell that this language's declension tables were nearly twice as thick as Latin's.

The bonus from [Scholarship] Level 2 would make his learning speed much faster than an ordinary person's.

It had taken him about a month to go from zero Latin to being able to participate in the Cicero Cup.

For now, his goal for the Ancient Greek Language didn't need to be at a competitive level, just proficient enough to "decipher encrypted text using a reference table."

The bar was a notch lower than for Latin, but the language itself was a notch more complex. The two factors canceled each other out; finishing within half a month should be more than enough time.

He opened the first chapter, his eyes falling on the alphabet.

α, β, γ, δ... The twenty-four letters were arranged in two columns on the page, with pronunciation and stroke order marked next to each one.

His brain entered its familiar absorption mode.

The shapes of the letters entered his retina, and the memory enhancement from [Scholarship] carved the curve and turn of every stroke into his mind.

The pronunciation rules entered through his ears and were automatically cross-referenced in his mind against their corresponding phonemes in Latin.

Differences were marked in red, commonalities in green. Within ten minutes, the entire alphabet went from "completely alien" to "basically familiar."

Light footsteps echoed from the direction of the stairwell.

The footsteps paused in the hallway for a moment, then continued to approach him.

The gait was light, and the contact area between the soles and the floor was small. It was probably a girl in leather shoes.

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