I Loaded the Occult Panel

Back from his aunt’s place, Richard pulled the inkwell from the depths of his satchel.

He pushed his Spirit Vision to its maximum, and the inkwell seemed to float in his field of view.

The glass turned translucent under the scrutiny, revealing the conductive silver threads the alchemist had embedded by hand.

Further in, the third layer formed the ink reservoir.

The ink itself was an ether Condensate with its concentration suppressed to an absolute minimum, allowing it to function like ordinary ink.

At the very center sat a tiny rotating structure—the core circuit of the entire vessel.

The circuit operated much like the tree of light within his own Micro-circulation, though its conversion efficiency was remarkably low.

He placed his hand over it, testing its point absorption.

Judging by the rate of increase, the ether reserves lingering inside the inkwell were worth slightly more than half a point—roughly on par with the antique he had bought from Donner.

He had no intention of draining it to ninety-five percent, however.Absorbing that much would ruin the circuit.

With that in mind, he consciously throttled the absorption speed.

The Panel’s [Available Points] began to climb.

It took fifteen minutes for [Available Points] to rise from 1.75 to 1.85.

Another ten minutes passed as it crawled from 1.85 to 1.99.

Richard stopped and reactivated his Spirit Vision to inspect the glass.

The circuit’s rhythm remained steady, but the silver mesh bordering the core was starting to show signs of stress.

Pushing any further would personally destroy the inkwell’s ”endless writing” enchantment.

Richard absorbed that final, hair-thin wisp of ether.

His [Available Points] settled at exactly 2.0—enough for his needs without damaging the inkwell.

This was the first gift his aunt had ever given him; he couldn’t afford to break it.

Richard checked the Panel.

[Available Points] 2.0

(For convenience, the decimals in the progress bars are omitted.)

[Breathing] Lv.3, Progress 9%.

[eating] Lv.2, Progress 59%.

[Sleep] Lv.2, Progress 63%.

[walking] Lv.2, Progress 29%.

[Learning] Lv.2, Progress 87%.

[Perception] Lv.2, Progress 21%.

Since he now had two points on hand, he decided to preview the changes for advancing [Breathing] again.

He channeled the points into [Breathing], and the Panel quickly displayed the preview:

”To advance this skill again, the following conditions must be met:

Level reach Lv.4, Progress 100%; Available Points: 2; fully master an advanced breathing method.”

”Preview of unlockable effect—Breathing: Surging Spring: Enhances baseline healing, allows storage of life breath during respiration; drastically accelerates self-healing when wounded; or channels breath to heal others.”

Richard sat motionless.

He read the text on the Panel from beginning to end once more.

”Drastically accelerates self-healing when wounded”—this line addressed the mortal perils of combat.

Those on the Scholar path lacked the ether bursts of Hunters, nor did they possess the spiritual halos of the Secret path, ready to pull out a pile of alchemical gear at any moment.

His armor plating could only block blades, not piercing firearms, and the Moon Nail was meant for offense, not defense.

If [Surging Spring] worked as described, this feature would be a reliable trump card for survival.

”Channels breath to heal others”—this function was equally crucial.

He immediately thought of his mother’s illness.

Even if he couldn’t completely repair her circuit, simply halting its decade-long idle spin and slowly easing the dull ache that flared in her lungs on rainy days would be an incredible start.

Unfortunately, he still had a very long way to go before he could acquire [Surging Spring].

The progress bar for [Breathing] crawled at a glacial pace. He had reached Lv.3 quite a while ago, yet the progress still hadn’t even hit ten percent.

Once he became a Practitioner and acquired an advanced breathing method, his speed should pick up.

Thanks to the sheer volume of occult knowledge he had absorbed over the past few days, climbing the bar for [Learning] Lv.2 wasn’t nearly as grueling as [Breathing] had been.

He still had plenty of materials on hand waiting to be deciphered. If he maintained his current pace, he would reach 100% in two weeks.

Once he hit that milestone and independently finished deciphering the Dual Overwrite practice materials, the advancement conditions for [Learning] Lv.3 would be met.

Advancing would cost one point; unlocking [Reasoning] would cost another. His [Available Points] were just enough.

Richard exhaled.

He looked up at the glass inkwell on the desk.

The line of Latin etched into its side looked soft under the lamplight.

”Veritas ardua, sed amabilis.”

On the other side of the desk, the list of thirty-six books Isabella had left last night was pinned to the wall with a thumbtack.

”Truth is arduous, yet lovable,” Richard murmured.

”...Under my [Learning] and [Reasoning], perhaps it will be both simple and lovable.”

The sound of his sister rolling over in bed drifted from the next room.

Richard turned off the lamp.

The manuscript just needed to be handed over to Charlotte before February 15th.

The Theogony Salon’s February gathering was also mid-month; he still had a month to prepare.

Richard lay down on his bed and pulled up the covers.

He closed his eyes.

The leaves of the tree of light in his chest swayed gently, suffusing [Breathing: Healing] throughout his body.

In less than three minutes, he sank into the deep, restorative slumber brought by [Sleep] Lv.2.

...

At 7:25 the next morning, Isabella came to the Williams Residence alone.

Margaret was already waiting behind the door when she knocked.

”Morning.”

”Morning.” Margaret pulled the door open to let her sister in.

”Where are Sophia and Clara?”

”I left them at the inn so they could sleep a little longer.”

Isabella took off her overcoat and hung it on the hook behind the door.

”With this kind of massage, you’d be too stiff with outsiders around.”

Margaret tried to laugh, but didn’t quite manage it.

”I’m not that...”

”You are.”

Isabella stepped into the center of the living room.

Margaret had already shut the two doors separating the living room from the hallway.

She then went to the kitchen and clicked the half-open door firmly shut.

”Evelyn!”

A highly reluctant ”Yeah” echoed from upstairs.

”Go play with your brother!”

”I’m already upstairs!”

”Then stay put.”

”...Got it.”

Isabella let out a soft laugh.

”She’s certainly not staying put, is she?”

”I know,” Margaret sighed. ”Let her be.”

A small head poked out through the banister at the landing. The blue ribbon in her hair was hanging askew again, pressing down one of her ears.

Richard quietly slipped out of his bedroom, crept up behind his sister, and tapped the top of her head.

”Richard!”

”Shh...” Richard pressed his index finger to his lips. ”Keep it down. Don’t let Mom hear you.”

”You’re peeking too!” Evelyn whispered defensively.

”I’m different.”

”How are you different?”

”I’m...” Richard searched for the right words. ”I’m studying.”

Richard nudged his sister toward her room.

”Go back inside. I bought a bag of almond crisps on the way home yesterday and left them on your desk. Eat them, and pretend I wasn’t here.”

”Are you bribing me?”

”Cooperating.”

Evelyn stared at him for a moment, then turned, slipped into her room, and pushed the door mostly shut.

Richard returned to the top of the stairs, crouched down, and peered into the living room through the lowest gap in the banister.

His mother was already lying face-down on the sofa.

With her face buried in the cushions, her shoulders rose and fell in shallow breaths.

Isabella moved to the side of the sofa and knelt.

She rolled up her cuffs to bare her forearms.

Bringing her palms together, she slowly exhaled.

A thin film of ether condensed between her hands.

Through his Spirit Vision, Richard watched his aunt press that ether film directly against the nape of his mother’s neck.

His mother’s shoulders shuddered before slowly relaxing.

”Does it hurt?”

”...No.”

”Is it hot?”

”Yes.”

”That’s normal.” His aunt’s thumbs firmly massaged the two main meridians tracing his mother’s spine.

Every time the pressure reached the seventh vertebra, his mother trembled.

Richard could see it clearly: that was the exact spot where her circuit had ruptured years ago.

When the session ended, his mother let out a long sigh.

”How do you feel?” Isabella asked.

”...”

”Margaret?”

”...I haven’t felt this light in years.” His mother’s voice was muffled by the cushions.

Isabella rolled down her cuffs, grabbed the teapot from the coffee table, and poured her sister a cup of warm water.

She glanced up toward the top of the stairs.

Richard couldn’t duck out of sight in time.

”Done spying?”

”I was studying.”

”Come down here.”

Resigned, Richard descended the stairs.

Isabella looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

”That Spirit Vision of yours has good range and decent precision, but zero concealment.”

”...Is my Spirit Vision really that obvious?”

”Your focus distorts the ambient ether. Anyone with even a trace of perception can see it plain as day.”

Richard frowned. His Spirit Vision’s lack of subtlety had always been a glaring flaw.

His mother drank half her warm water.

”Isabella, my son...”

”Your son is fine,” Isabella cut in. ”From what I’ve seen over these past two days, he’s far beyond where I was at his age.”

...

The next morning, on the station platform.

His father hadn’t gone to work; he had specifically taken half the day off.

His mother wore the new dress she had bought with Isabella. Standing side by side, the sisters looked like they had been tailored from the same bolt of fabric.

Evelyn clung tightly to her aunt’s waist, refusing to let go.

Sophia stood nearby, her shoulders shaking as she tried not to laugh at her usually stoic Mentor’s utter helplessness.

”Little Evelyn!” Wilting under her mentor’s threatening glare, Sophia had no choice but to step in.

”Look over there.” Sophia pointed down the platform.

”Look at what?”

”Isn’t there a huge cat over there?”

”...” Evelyn looked up in suspicion.

”Really. It’s gray and white, and incredibly chubby.”

The little girl lifted her head.

She wasn’t stupid enough to fall for such a clumsy lie.

But the momentary distraction was all Sophia needed.

”Over there, over there...” Sophia peeled Evelyn off Isabella, hoisted the girl onto her own shoulder, and took two quick steps down the platform. ”Oh no, I think it ran away.”

”You tricked me!”

”I didn’t trick you. My eyes must have been playing tricks on me.”

”You owe me a cat!”

”...Where am I supposed to find a cat right now?”

Isabella rubbed her waist and smoothed the wrinkles from her long dress.

Clara walked over from the pile of luggage.

”Mentor, the ticket inspector is coming.”

”I know.”

Isabella turned and walked back to her sister.

Clara stepped up to Richard, set her leather suitcase on the ground, and rolled her wrist.

”Mr. Williams Jr.”

”Just call me Richard.”

”Right, Richard.”

Clara kept her voice low.

She turned sideways to let a rushing passenger pass, then stepped half a pace closer.

”That inkwell...”

”What about it?”

”If you notice anything unusual with it, you can mail it back to the Imperial Capital for repairs at any time.

The address is written on the inner lining of the box. I can pass it on to the person who made it.”

”The alchemist who made it is my distant uncle.”

Richard quietly committed that detail to memory.

”What kind of alchemical tools does he usually make?”

”He doesn’t just make auxiliary items; he also takes commissions for weapon modifications.”

Clara blinked at him. ”There are a few Minor Adepts in the Imperial Capital who take these kinds of orders, and he’s one of them. He does honest work, though his temper isn’t great.”

Richard nodded.

”I’ll remember that.”

”Mhm.” Clara picked up her small leather suitcase. ”See you next time.”

Sophia had already deposited Evelyn back with her mother.

The little girl buried her face in her mother’s waist for a moment before her mother gently urged her aside.

Richard walked over to say his goodbyes.

Isabella held out her right hand. Richard offered his, and they shook.

It was an ordinary handshake. No ether flowed between them.

Isabella’s lips moved slightly.

”Study hard, and take good care of my sister.”

”I will.”

”See you at the summer seminar.”

”Okay.”

Isabella let go of his hand.

The train whistle blew, and the ticket inspector rang his small brass bell.

”Little Evelyn, I’ll owe you a real cat next time!”

Sophia shouted as she squeezed onto the train.

”You have to bring one next time you visit!”

”Okay! I’ll bring a chubby one!”

With a loud clank, the train doors slammed shut.

As the train lurched into motion, Evelyn chased after the carriage once more.

She ran all the way to the end of the platform before stopping. As she watched the train fade into the distance, it was hard to tell what was going through her mind.