I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 178 Inexhaustible Ink

Richard felt a dull throbbing pain in his temples and nodded.

"Let's get back to the recent topic."

She picked up the pen again.

"From the moment you sign your name, to becoming a practitioner, and then to becoming a minor expert..."

She drew several horizontal lines on the white paper from bottom to top.

"With each level you advance, your signature artifact will undergo a qualitative change."

"A qualitative change?"

"The essence of rank advancement is a fundamental change in the relationship between the practitioner and the veil."

She wrote the words "signature" below the bottom line.

"When you sign your name, the strange object recognizes you as its owner."

Your microcirculation uses it to announce your presence behind the curtain; the curtain knows you exist, and that's all.

Move the pencil up one space.

"For practitioners, start aligning your career path with Qiwu, as mentioned earlier."

Move up one more space.

"The leap from minor proficiency to mastery is the real watershed moment."

Richard's gaze fell on the tip of her pen.

"The junior proficient needs to complete their 'first oath'," he added proactively.

"Have you already read 'On Climbing Behind a Curtain'?"

"Um."

"That book describes the process of the 'first oath,' but it doesn't mention the consequences of taking the oath."

"What is the price?"

Isabella's pen paused on the white paper for a moment.

"At the moment of the oath, you will transfer a part of your soul into the Signed Wonder."

Richard's mind went blank.

He recalled the fantasy novels he had read in his past life.

The lich's phylactery cuts out its own soul and seals it into an object.

In this world, every practitioner who has reached the level of minor proficiency carries one on their wrist.

"Do you understand?" Isabella asked.

"I understand." Richard lowered his voice. "From that moment on, the Signed Wonder was no longer just a Wonder."

"right."

Isabella stretched out her hand and summoned the parchment scroll back, letting it hover between the two of them.

"My copy of the 'Manuscript of the Alchemy of Alexander' contains a wisp of my own spirit."

Her gaze lingered on the parchment scroll for a moment.

"If one day this book is ruined... lying in bed for the rest of my life would be the best ending for me."

Richard looked at the parchment scroll hanging in the air.

The suite was quiet for a while.

He understood why Mr. Hutton had repeatedly emphasized that the care should not be interrupted, and why his aunt had been so cautious when checking the Sphinx lamp earlier.

Seeing that he hadn't spoken for a while, Isabella quietly put the parchment away.

That's enough for today.

She picked up the teapot and refilled the two cups with water: "If you keep going, your brain will start to smoke."

"……Um."

Richard picked up his teacup.

The tea was already half-cooled, but he drank it all in one go.

Isabella placed the pen on the white paper.

"I came here this time not only to see my sister and your signed artifacts, but also to take care of the artifact recycling we talked about last time."

She pointed to Richard's backpack.

The bronze ornaments were taken out first.

The item that his cousin Vincent "given" to him had been lying in a hidden compartment of his drawer for months.

Richard wrapped the bronze ornament in oiled paper and placed it on the table.

Isabella opened the oil paper and took a look.

She didn't touch the ornament itself.

"I spoke with my father on the phone before I left for this."

She closed the oil paper: "He means that you don't need to keep this one anymore."

Richard breathed a sigh of relief.

The second item is a Sufi incense burner.

Isabella took the incense burner in her hand and scanned it with her spiritual vision.

"It's been modified twice, but the materials are still decent."

The third item is the Sun Seal.

Isabella picked up the stamp and twirled it between her fingers.

"From colonial areas, the items are no more than two hundred years old and are crudely made."

She took out her notebook separately to estimate the price, and the final total price was close to eight pounds.

Richard originally estimated that he would be satisfied if he could get five pounds for the three items together.

Isabella looked up at him: "Most of your oddities are 'pure,' so the buyback price is relatively good."

"Pure?"

"The source is clear, the transfer records are traceable, and it has not been involved in any bloody cases."

"According to the purchasing channels you mentioned before, they came from Tang Na's side and a retired auctioneer from the capital, both of which are considered relatively legitimate channels."

She continued to explain: "Even veteran appraisers are wary of that type of item. Rare items that come through legitimate channels will undergo an initial screening process that marks them as 'Category 2'."

"Don't touch any rare or unusual items from unofficial sources, no matter how cheap they are."

Richard nodded seriously.

"I've got it."

"There's one more..." Isabella added.

"Even if it's a rare item obtained through legitimate channels, if you sense an abnormal flow of ether after acquiring it, you should dispose of it immediately."

"What should we do?"

"Throw it into flowing water, preferably the kind of flowing water that leads to the sea."

If all else fails, find a deserted, abandoned area, dig a pit, bury it, and cover it with a layer of salt.

"……Salt?"

“Salt is the simplest way to isolate the ether,” Isabella replied quickly. “The usual.”

Richard recalled his previous sealing practice, during which Mrs. McNeil had also shared similar tidbits of knowledge.

After she finished giving her instructions, she reopened the desk drawer.

At the very back of the drawer, there was a small box.

The box was small, about the size of a palm, and was wrapped with a thin ribbon.

"This is a gift I brought for you."

"Let's open it and take a look."

Richard untied the ribbon.

The score jumped; there's a strange item inside.

The box was opened, revealing a layer of dark red velvet inside.

In the center of the velvet, there was a glass ink bottle.

A line of very small Latin text is engraved on the side of the bottle:

"Veritas ardua, sed amabilis. (Truth is hard, but lovely.)"

Richard's finger rested on the bottle.

He used his vision to fix the entire outline of the bottle.

The ether in the bottle flows in a different way, with a circulation pathway similar to that in the human body.

This bottle has been modified.

"This is a rare artifact crafted by an alchemist in the capital."

Isabella chimed in, "He's a little expert, specializing in these kinds of assistive devices."

"The ink in the bottle will never run out."

She made a cursory gesture on the table:

"The ink bottle will automatically draw a tiny amount from the user's ether and add it to the ink reservoir."

Richard held the bottle in his hands.

The thought that he could never finish writing was too tempting for him.

Putting aside the cost of ink that he saves, the convenience alone is enough to make him very interested.

He used his spiritual vision to roughly estimate the circulation efficiency of the ether in the bottle.

Based on his current Ethereum reserves, he can retain no more than one percent of his own reserves per day.

The generation speed is relatively slow, just enough for him to use alone, so the idea of ​​selling the ink is out of the question.

"Auntie, is this ink bottle very expensive?"

Isabella took a sip of tea.

"It's alright," she said casually. "After testing, the ether content of this stuff is not high, and the market price fluctuates between five and ten pounds."

"...five to ten pounds."

Richard silently did some mental calculations.

The price of five to ten pounds likely only accounts for the value of the object itself, without considering its actual effects after processing.

If this ink bottle were displayed at a curio market...

Knowledgeable scholars can immediately see the true significance of the phrase "never to be finished".

Isabella could tell he was mentally calculating the price.

"Alright, Richard." She put down her teacup. "No need to calculate anymore."

"When I first signed my name as a practitioner, my father gave me a quill pen."

"That pen is a 'pen companion' crafted by an alchemist. It automatically adjusts the angle when writing, and is specially designed for scholars."

"...Was it a gift from my maternal grandfather?"

"Hmm." Isabella picked up her teacup and took another sip. "He doesn't need those things himself."

"For a scholar, the most indispensable thing is this kind of everyday tool." She glanced at Richard.

"A good pen, a bottle of good ink, a good sheet of paper... their value to someone who has been engaged in scholarship for a long time is self-evident."

Richard placed the ink bottle back in the center of the velvet.

"Thank you, Auntie."

"Don't mention it," Isabella waved her hand. "We're all family."