I Loaded the Mysticism Panel

Richard read for a while, just about to close the notebook.

His gaze swept over the last few lines of the translated manuscript, and he noticed he had missed a section.

When he had copied the original material from the Imperial University Library, he had transcribed it paragraph by paragraph, following the order of the pages.

Time had been tight, and some paragraphs were crammed near the binding, with characters partially obscured by the spine.

He could only bend the spine back as far as it would go, lean in close, and painstakingly copy the characters one by one into his notebook.

This final section was the one he had pried from the deepest part of the binding.

While copying, he hadn’t been sure if he had missed any characters, so he marked three questionable spots with parentheses in his notebook.

Looking back now, two of the three spots could be restored from context.

The other was missing a word-ending inflection, but it didn’t affect the overall meaning.

He copied this section of the coded message onto a new sheet of white paper and went through the decryption process again.

The first line that emerged made him sit up straight.

”There is one more thing I did not mention in the main text, as it is knowledge that is a deeply guarded secret within the major traditions.”

The encryption method for this section of coded message was completely different from the previous ones.

The earlier paragraphs had used a standard, entry-level encryption: a single-layer substitution cipher with inverted word order.

This section’s encryption level was suddenly raised a notch.

The person who wrote this passage clearly did not want everyone who could read the main text to also be able to read this.

The threshold for the main text was a basic understanding of ciphers plus a codebook; the threshold for this final section added another layer on top of that.

A filter within a filter.

Richard lowered his head again, pressing the tip of his pencil to the white paper, restoring it word by word.

”A second signature is not just for joining a system of heritage.”

”When you carve your signature into the core of a tradition, you establish a channel between yourself and the founder of that tradition.”

”The channel is two-way.”

When he had copied the original material, he had marked this spot with a small question mark.

This was because there was a clear sign of alteration in the original text.

This passage was much hastier than the surrounding text, the spacing between characters varying wildly, as if it had been dashed off in one go after a long hesitation:

”Founding a tradition is equivalent to planting a tree in the world behind the Veil.”

”Every Cultivator who connects to this tree is one of its branches.”

”The more branches there are, the more robust the tree becomes. Its roots dig deeper, and it draws more nutrients from behind the Veil.”

”The holder of the trunk enjoys the nutrients delivered by all the branches and also possesses the power to prune any single one of them.”

”Most of the time, the holder will not exercise this power. It is most beneficial for the entire tree to let the branches grow freely; frequent pruning would only damage the roots.”

”But the existence of the power itself does not vanish just because it is not exercised.”

”It hangs over the head of every branch.”

Richard put the pencil down, flexed his aching fingers, then picked it up to continue restoring the text.

”You might say, ’I’ll just choose a trustworthy tradition. The Sun Tradition has a long and storied history, the Moon-Hunting Tradition is upright and honorable, and the Furnace Fire Tradition has strict rules. How could anyone abuse such power?’”

”This line of thinking is reasonable, but also naive, because you are entrusting your choice to others.”

”When a tradition’s founder dies or transforms, the core ownership will change hands.”

”The person you trusted when you gave your second signature and the person sitting in the core position a century later will not necessarily be the same.”

”Even if they are the same person, a century is long enough to change many ideas.”

”And once your signature is carved, it can never be erased.”

The lamp wick flickered, casting shadows like ghostly claws across the notebook’s script.

Downstairs and upstairs, all was quiet. His parents and Evelyn were fast asleep.

He put down the pencil, preparing to close the notebook.

The pencil rolled half a circle on the desk before coming to a stop against the base of the Gargoyle.

He didn’t pick it up. His mind felt too heavy.

It’s true that anyone who can break a cipher usually has the fortitude to handle its contents. But being able to handle something and handling it with ease were two different things.

Tonight, he had digested the rest of On the Ascent in the Veil in one sitting.

The classification framework of the five major traditions, the specific conditions for advancing to the Minor Mastery and Grand Mastery Tiers, the basic procedures for the two rituals, the essence of existence beyond Grand Mastery, and that most crucial warning...

His temples throbbed faster and faster, and the back of his head felt like it was swelling, something pushing outward from within.

A slight blur appeared at the edges of his vision, and the light began to bend and distort.

Richard immediately put down the notebook, placed his hands flat on his knees, and closed his eyes.

He went through three full cycles of the Breathing Technique until his breathing returned completely to the stable rhythm he maintained during cultivation.

The swelling sensation didn’t disappear entirely, but it was suppressed to a tolerable level.

He opened his eyes and looked down at the notebook and translated manuscript spread across his desk.

’That’s enough for today. I can’t touch any more material.’

There were still several other original materials he had brought back from the Imperial University Library that he hadn’t touched.

Those encrypted texts lay quietly in the latter half of his notebook, waiting to be pried open bit by bit.

But you can’t pick locks if you don’t have the strength for it.

He closed the notebook, folded the translated manuscript and locked it in his drawer, and placed the Gargoyle back on the corner of the desk.

He turned off the desk lamp.

Richard took off his coat, hung it on the back of his chair, and lay down on his bed, but he didn’t close his eyes immediately.

In the darkness, a band of light on the ceiling trembled slightly, likely from the wind outside blowing against a streetlight cover.

There was too much in his mind; it was impossible to digest it all in a short time. He chose to start by sorting through the parts most relevant to him.

First was advancing to a Practitioner.

The conditions were clear: a stable micro-circulation running for at least one year, a chosen career path and Marvels, and the completion of one attestation.

Of the three conditions, the first was a strict time requirement that couldn’t be rushed. He still had more than half a year to go.

The second held no suspense for him.

The third, the attestation task, would be to independently decrypt a previously unrestored encrypted text, should he choose the Scholar path.

He had already decrypted many encrypted texts.

But all of those had been with the help of a codebook, and the original texts had all been restored by others before—it was simply his first time doing them.

The ”previously unrestored” condition was very strict.

It demanded an original breakthrough. You had to crack a tough nut no one had cracked before.

The documents from the Imperial University Library were not highly encrypted; they were clearly introductory materials that countless people had restored. They certainly wouldn’t qualify for an attestation.

A true subject for attestation would have to be obtained by asking Mr. Hutton when the time came, or by acquiring an unknown text through more obscure channels.

But since he had a senior he could ask, it was best to avoid rashly collecting texts on his own.

Reading the wrong books in this world could really get you killed.

Next was the choice of the five major traditions.

The Sun Tradition and the Golden Path shared the same origin; the introductory Breathing Technique he practiced came from this system.

If he took the Scholar path within the Sun Tradition, there would be a natural link between his Breathing Technique cultivation and his academic research, with no compatibility issues.

The document mentioned that the choice of a second signature was only necessary at the Grand Mastery stage.

Grand Mastery was two full Tiers away, past Practitioner and Minor Mastery, with an accumulation period of several years, or even decades, between each Tier.

As for the author’s repeated advice to stop at the Practitioner stage, he had never even considered it.

Richard turned over and pulled the blanket up a little higher.

He didn’t plan to make a decision now.

The second signature required for breaking through to Grand Mastery was still several Tiers away. Worrying about it now was both a waste of energy and meaningless.

But there was one sentence from that passage that he planned to carve into the deepest recesses of his mind, to review before making any choice in the future:

”Once your signature is carved, it can never be erased.”

Making an irreversible choice with insufficient information was a gamble.

He would wait until he had enough information, the options were clear enough, and he himself was powerful enough before making his move.

Until then, it was enough to be a freely growing sapling.

Finally, there was the content about what lay beyond Grand Mastery:

”Those above the line have already begun to deviate from the human realm, their very being starting to become a part of the Ether.”

This sentence turned over and over in his mind, growing heavier with each rotation.

The Candle metaphor was straightforward.

The brighter it burns, the shorter the wax.

At a certain stage, the wax is gone, but the fire remains. That flame is no longer the flame of a candle; it has become something else.

’Just how far will I go in the future?’

It was too early to ask that question, so early that even asking felt like a luxury.

He wasn’t even a veteran among the Newcomers. His micro-circulation had only taken shape two months ago, and he wasn’t even qualified to sign a Marvel.

The Skill Levels on his panel were still in their initial stages.

He was at least a year away from Practitioner, several years from Minor Mastery, and a decade or more from Grand Mastery.

What came after that was not something to think about now.

The Latin word at the end of the document floated to the surface of his mind—Cave. Beware.

Beware of what?

Beware of the corruption brought by Strength itself.

Beware of the accumulating costs during the ascent.

Beware of the day he might look down and find there was not enough wax left beneath his feet.

And beware of the eyes watching from the depths of the Veil.

The brighter the Candle, the more eyes that see it.

His flame was currently small enough to be negligible, and that was a good thing.

Small meant safe. Small meant there was still plenty of wax to burn.

As long as he ensured every bit of wax was used in the right way, that the flame grew steadily instead of flaring up suddenly, those distant eyes would not notice him for the time being.

The wind outside blew for another moment. The band of light on the ceiling flickered, then stilled.

The Brighton night was silent, save for the occasional whistling of the wind.

Richard closed his eyes.

The rest could only be left to time.