I loaded the Mysticism panel.

On the last day of the harvest holiday, Richard took the first bus from Briston back to the capital.

My luggage consisted of only an old leather suitcase and a single-shoulder canvas bag.

Evelyn's pastries were stuffed into the suitcase.

Before she left, my younger sister gave me these instructions:

"It's filled two layers. Remember to leave some for your aunt and grandfather; don't eat it all!"

The canvas bag held down two shirts and a pair of socks that his mother had mended for him.

The platforms at Bristol Station are so cold that your lips can turn purple.

The train was still pulling several military carriages, the windows were boarded up, and it was clear that they were filled with boxes.

When he arrived at the porch of Ashford House, the butler was standing there to greet him.

"Young Master Richard."

"Master is in his study upstairs. Please come this way."

Richard handed the suitcase to the maid and went up the spiral staircase himself.

At the corner of the stairs, Gerald in the portrait is wearing a suit jacket, his hair is not yet white, and his gaze is very sharp.

Richard slowed his pace as he passed by the painting.

There is a nearly forty-year gap between what is depicted in the painting and what is actually depicted in the painting.

He knocked twice on the study door.

"Come in."

Richard's first glance fell on his maternal grandfather as he entered the room.

The changes in the etheric field are more pronounced.

"Grandpa." Richard sat down on the guest chair opposite him.

"Hmm." Gerald placed his teacup on the round table.

The old man glanced at his grandson, his expression remaining largely unchanged.

"How's Briston?"

"Everything is fine. Mom and Dad are in good health. Evelyn also made some snacks for you; they're in your suitcase downstairs."

Gerrard's expression softened slightly when he mentioned his granddaughter.

"Let everyone try it at dinner later."

"How is Cousin Vincent?" Richard asked.

"My shoulder blade is almost fully healed, and I'm in the backyard."

"He complained that recuperating from his injury was too boring, so he would do half a set of basic exercises every morning. I scolded him twice, but he still couldn't change his ways."

The two exchanged a few casual words.

The butler knocked on the door and brought up a pot of freshly brewed black tea.

After the butler left, Richard held the teacup in his hand but didn't drink from it; he held it in his palm for a while.

Grandpa.

"Um?"

"I possess a technique."

Gerrard didn't speak, his gaze shifting from his teacup to his grandson's face.

Richard revealed the prepared statement he had long ago.

"The technique can temporarily refresh and activate the etheric circuit, which spreads instantly within the target's body."

I've tried it on myself and two other people, and the results have been consistently good without any problems.

The study was quiet for a while.

Gerrard raised an eyebrow.

"Have there been any side effects after trying it?"

Richard briefly explained the situation of his test subjects.

Gerrard placed his hands on the armrests on either side of the chair.

Why did you only bring this up now?

"Insufficient experimental data..."

Gerrard twitched his white eyebrows.

"In that case, let Vincent try it first."

………………

Ashford mansion backyard.

Three high walls surround a vacant lot paved with gravel, in the center of which stands a training post, its surface pitted and marked with marks.

Vincent is slapping the training post with his left hand, and with each slap, a white mark is added to the post.

"Vincent." Gerald came out from the back porch.

Vincent withdrew his hand and turned around.

"grandfather."

He saw the people following Gerald.

"Richard? When did you get back?"

"Arrived this afternoon."

Vincent walked over to him and slapped him.

Richard's shoulder was swayed by the pat.

"He's much stronger than before," Vincent grinned.

He himself had lost a lot of weight, and his chin was covered with stubble that he hadn't had time to shave.

Gerald sat down on the stone bench in the back porch.

"Vincent, come and cooperate with your cousin in an experiment; it will do you good."

As they were talking, another test subject walked over slowly.

Baldwin walked into the backyard and nodded to Richard.

"Roll up your sleeves," Gerald said to Vincent.

Vincent pushed his right sleeve up, revealing his forearm.

This area has a dark, stagnant patch above the elbow due to a scapular injury.

Richard took out a long box of silver needles from his canvas bag.

"After this injection, you'll feel like that section of the circuit has been washed by high-pressure water."

Richard took the needle out.

"It lasts for about two minutes, followed by a long period of weakness."

"The weakness period is characterized by soft fingers and decreased grip strength. It fully recovers after four minutes."

Vincent looked at the needle.

"Moon Nail?"

"Yes, it's been improved."

Richard omits the details.

Vincent glanced back at Gerald.

The old man sat on a stone bench, holding the hot tea that the butler had just brought him, and nodded slightly to him.

"Come on." Vincent extended his right arm after receiving Gerald's confirmation.

Richard held Vincent's forearm with his left hand, using "Perception and Contemplation" to unleash his inspiration.

The practitioner hunter's path was twice as wide as Coleman's, and the ether attached to the vein walls was also much thicker.

He positioned the needle at the most saturated section downstream of the stagnation.

"one."

Vincent took a deep breath; despite his grandfather's guarantee, he was still a little nervous.

"two."

Richard infuses the needle's handle with ether and pushes it along the central axis.

"three."

Needle through.

The moment the needle pierced his skin, Vincent's reaction was far more intense than Coleman's.

He clenched his fists tightly, his forearm muscles tensing up like an iron cable.

"hiss……"

Large beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and trickled down his temples.

"How does it feel?" Gerald stood up abruptly.

Vincent gritted his teeth, his voice coming out in broken, intermittent bursts.

"...the entire arm..."

His right hand was trembling so much that he couldn't even clench his fist properly.

"It's freezing to the bone."

Two seconds later...

"It's getting hot again."

Under Richard's spiritual vision, the stagnant area on the inside of Vincent's forearm was being washed away by a reflection.

The force was so strong that the "rubble" blocking the loop was forcefully dispersed by the high-density ether.

Vincent slowly loosened his fist.

"...Okay." He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"it's over?"

"The reflection lasted for about two minutes." Richard put the needle back into the box.

"Next, you will feel your right hand become weak and your grip strength decreases, but it will return to normal in about four minutes."

Vincent tried to open his hand, his five fingers vaguely spreading out and then closing again.

It's really soft; you can't really grip it tightly.

He then tried rotating his right shoulder...

"What are you spinning for?" Baldwin, who had been watching for a while, finally couldn't help but ask.

Vincent ignored him and pressed the bandage twice.

"...I'm relieved."

Baldwin lowered his arms, which he had been holding in front of his chest.

"What's loosened?"

"Come over and press it, you'll see."

Baldwin walked over with some skepticism and pressed his fingers near Vincent's shoulder blade through the medicated cloth.

He pressed on two or three spots, finally stopping near the point where the crack had healed.

"You used to be as hard as a rock," Baldwin said, his tone changing.

"Now……"

He pressed it twice more.

"It's definitely looser."

Gerald didn't say anything, but he also reached out and patted Vincent on the shoulder.

Vincent grimaced as he was surrounded by several hands.

"Alright, alright, it's not your injury, why are you pressing it?"

Gerrard remained silent throughout.

He didn't speak until Vincent started to complain of the pain.

"Next up, Little Proficiency."

He looked at Baldwin, the burly man who took a step back.

He glanced back at Gerald, then at the silver needle box in Richard's hand, his face full of reluctance.

"uncle……"

"Vincent has already tried it, what are you afraid of?" Gerald emphasized.

Baldwin had no right to refuse Gerald.

In name only, the head of the main family no longer has any control over the descendants who have branched out.

But if someone is an expert, they should never be taken as advice.

Baldwin tried his best to express his views tactfully:

"Richard is very talented, but he hasn't even completed a full year at Imperial University, and he's already doing this for us. I really..."

"I know," Gerald said, his attitude unchanged.

"Just trust me."

Having said all that, Baldwin gritted his teeth, rolled up his sleeve, and extended his right forearm.

The path of a minor expert is completely different from that of a professional.

Richard noticed the difference when he pasted the inspiration onto the paper.

The vein walls are thicker, with more branches, and each branch has its own regulating valve.

Ether moves faster inside.

"Uncle Baldwin, get ready." Richard took out the needle.

"Alright, enough nonsense." Baldwin closed his eyes.

When they counted to three, the needle went in.

Baldwin's reaction was completely different from Vincent's.

Vincent was completely disoriented, his hands were trembling and his forehead was sweating, exhibiting all sorts of obvious and intense reactions.

Baldwin only made one move.

His right hand clenched into a fist, held for about two seconds, and then released.

The whole process was quiet and peaceful; I didn't even break a sweat.

But what Richard saw through his spiritual vision was much more complex.

The shockwave from the reflection was immediately detected once it entered the Baldwin circuit.

The circuit treated the incoming ether as a foreign object, and the diversion valves automatically switched, splitting the shock wave into seven or eight thin streams that were dispersed into various branches.

After the impact force is effectively dispersed, only 20-30% of the original amount of reflected light actually reaches the target area.

These two or three percent did have an effect; from rising to returning to normal, it took less than a minute in total.

Baldwin opened his eyes.

"It's a bit chilly."

He flexed his fingers.

"Is it all over now?"

"It's over." Richard put the needle away.

Baldwin looked down at his forearm and then flexed and extended his hand twice.

"this one?"

His tone was somewhat subtle.

Vincent scoffed from the side, "Uncle Baldwin, why aren't you thanking him?"

"Why should I thank you? A cool breeze blew by, and I didn't even bother to shiver."

Baldwin rolled up his sleeves.

He turned to look at Gerrard.

"Uncle, for me, this injection is practically useless."

Gerrard nodded; he had expected this outcome.

He looked at Richard.

"It's my turn."

There was a brief silence in the backyard.

Vincent and Baldwin spoke at the same time:

"Grandpa, would you like to...?"

"Uncle, you don't need to..."

Gerald silenced both of them.

He slowly rolled up his sleeves, revealing a section of his forearm.

Not only can you not see any muscles on it, but there are also some age spots.

Finally, Richard's heart pounded with scholarly curiosity as he could see the path to mastery.

He posted his inspiration there.

Seeing the situation inside, he couldn't help but marvel.

My maternal grandfather's route was crisscrossed by dozens of main pipelines, each one incredibly thick.

The main pipeline branches into hundreds of branch pipes, and the branch pipes further branch into thousands of capillary tubes.

The capillary tips disappeared into a depth beyond the reach of his inspiration, merging with every tissue of his body.

Richard took the needle out; his palms were sweating.

He was looking for the insertion point.

Gerrard's circuit was running at high speed everywhere, with no weaker gaps than elsewhere.

He can only choose the widest section of the main pipe to insert the needle, which is theoretically the position with the least interference.

Grandpa.

"bring it on."

Vincent and Baldwin, standing nearby, were in a panic.

Gerrard is the true pillar of the Ashford family; if anything goes wrong with him, the whole family is finished.

The needle tip couldn't pierce the skin, but the ether controlled by Richard could penetrate the tube wall when Gerald released it.

It was mostly absorbed by the tissue on the tube wall as soon as it entered.

The remaining bit was carried away by the high-density ether within the pipe.

The final wisp of water that truly reaches the end of the cycle is about the same as pouring a glass of water into a reservoir.

Gerald opened his eyes.

"That's interesting."

He flexed his fingers.

"The blockage in the extremities has loosened a bit, which is equivalent to the amount I slowly cleared myself over three days."

He rolled up his sleeves and looked up at Richard.

"But that's all for now."

Richard wiped the silver needles clean and put them back in the box.

He had actually anticipated this long ago; the difference in their ranks was indeed too great.

"But its effects are indeed real," Gerald added.

"The injection you received is based on your current ether level."

"But what if the person receiving this injection is a minor expert?"

"Going a step further, what if a highly skilled expert were to administer this injection?"

Richard understood what the other party meant.

"Heal each other's wounds."

Gerrard nodded.

"Hunters getting injured is commonplace; if your technique could spread..."

The conclusion is there: the technique of Moon Nail Reflection is technically sound.

Vincent stood aside and listened to the whole thing, his eyes growing brighter and brighter.

"Grandpa, you mean... this technique should be taught to a hunter in the family whom we can trust?"

Gerald glanced at Richard.

"That depends on whether he's willing to take it out."

The backyard was quiet again.

Baldwin stood to the side with his arms crossed, the slight reluctance on his face having faded at some point.

Richard closed the silver needle box.

"I'm doing experiments for everyone, so of course I'm willing to share them at home."

That was exactly what he came for.

Gerrard sat on the stone bench and remained silent for a long time.

"You child... I thank you on behalf of the Ashford family."

"This isn't just polite talk." He stood up.

"If you're willing to share this technique, we elders won't take it from you for nothing."