I loaded the Mysticism panel.

Chapter 526 Mantra (Happy Mid-Autumn Festival)

Richard sprinkled salt in a circle on the table and placed the Carthaginian lead scroll in the center.

Last time, he forced the curse out, collected the remaining clean ether inside, and stuffed the curse back in as a sample.

He then took out the Viking Trade Bead.

This is one of the spoils we got in Firelands during our last mission with Catherine and McFee.

This bead is the most portable of all the empty shell artifacts, so he carried it with him and is now conducting an experiment.

He placed the beads on the outer edge of the salt circle, a hand's width away from the Carthaginian lead scroll.

The ether that was opened was pressed into the lead scroll, and the curse was quickly squeezed out of the lead surface, about to dissipate.

Richard spat out a vacuum and sewed the edges shut.

Three lines of text lit up one after another in the stagnant water:

Bind the horse's hooves, bind the driver's eyes, and bind his hands so that he cannot hold the reins.

Richard's eyes lingered on the third line. The person who inscribed the curse had misspelled the Latin 's' (hand) as 's', and the last 's' was reversed. He raised an eyebrow at the misspelled word; tonight's strike would be aimed at that misspelled 's'.

The curse was able to remain suspended in stagnant water because of the vacuum that Richard had just exhaled.

The ether that was opened was pressed into the lead scroll of Carthage, and the curse was quickly squeezed out of the lead surface. As soon as the curse left the lead surface, it would disperse.

Before the curse could spread, he exhaled a vacuum, sewing the edges of the vacuum shut, thus sealing the curse within the stagnant water created by the vacuum.

Richard had already dealt with the curse in the Carthaginian lead scroll once.

Last time, after forcing the curse out, I took away the last bit of clean ether that remained in the curse, and then put the curse back into the lead scroll as a sample.

Tonight is the second time I've forced out the same curse.

The Carthaginian lead scroll was placed in the center of the salt circle, while the Viking trade beads were placed on the outer edge of the salt circle, with a palm's width between the scroll and the beads.

In the past, Richard only had one method for striking: first, aim at the edge of the curse, then make a diagonal cut with the tip of a needle, and then wait.

Sometimes what you get is a cool, refreshing feeling on the inside of your wrist, and once it feels cool, it stays there for several days.

McFee calls the coolness on his wrist a "backlash," and if the backlash is strong enough, the coolness won't just stay on his wrist.

Tonight, Richard added an extra step before striking. He first pointed to the Viking trade beads outside the salt circle and whispered "i" (to settle) in Latin.

The two immortals in the book stood on scorched earth, forcing the horse to neigh and land at a designated spot, using an ancient language that Richard couldn't pronounce.

He only had Latin at hand, and that was all he could use.

After finishing reading the needle tip, he returned to the third row of edges and drew a diagonal line down.

"Cheer".

That stroke was broken.

The backlash emerged from the broken opening, paused for a moment in mid-air, and then veered towards Richard.

But then it turned back, circled around the edge of the salt ring, and plunged into the glass in front of the bead.

Richard sat up straight in his chair.

A light black curse appeared inside the bead, slowly swirling along the glass wall, probably not understanding why it had ended up there.

After a while, Richard looked down and touched his wrist.

It's not time to wrap up yet.

The marginal note in the book makes it clear: the summoning and the recall should be taught together.

Only knowing how to cut but not how to collect is another case of a horse neighing; there's no pregnant woman's belly here to land on.

Richard picked up the bead, held it in his palm, and tried to pull it back.

He held the bead in his hand, took out the third of the curse he had cut off from the bead, and placed it back on the lead plate along its original edge.

The stroke was quickly and smoothly connected.

Now that I've cut off the branch myself, I can reverse the investigation of the backlash and the target, pointing everything to a different landing point;

And, after making a cut, you can undo it and put it back perfectly intact.

With these two foundations, his current technique is quite different from the branch-breaking technique that McFee taught him. It can be considered a semi-modified and semi-restored ancient technique.

Richard could feel that the Moon Hunting Marks wrapped around his body had been integrated.

The panel lit up. [Critical Thinking Lv.4, Progress 99% → 100%.]

[Achieved: Independently reconstructed the complete operational logic of a lost technique.]

[Critical Thinking lv.4→lv.5: All advancement conditions have been met. Required points: 2.]

[Current available points: 4.46.]

Richard stroked his chin, somewhat hesitant.

If you put two points in, your "Critical Thinking" skill will reach level 5.

The special feature [Chemical Structure] is immediately available: it comes with self-checking for any etheric structure you build later.

But after putting in two points, he only had 2.46 left.

4.46 is just a little short of five o'clock, and five o'clock is the threshold for level 7 preview.

He took Hecate's paper out of the notebook and placed it under the lamp.

"Winter Solstice, Saint Gotthard, do not let your people approach the mountain pass."

The note below reads: "The source of this information is unknown." Even a master of the traditional web-weaving art, upon receiving this piece of paper, couldn't determine whether it was the truth or bait.

Richard folded the paper back and patted the inner pocket of his chest. Deer Antler Point was quiet tonight.

Let's save the points for now. We've already met all the requirements for advancing to the [Critical Thinking] level, so we can upgrade whenever we want.

Furthermore, upgrading [Critical Thinking] to level 5 does not provide an immediate increase in combat power.

Keep your points in hand; you can invest them in [Debate].

It can be used to expand the spiritual capacity, to pull out an extra wisp of spiritual energy, or to keep it for a quick look at level 7.

After making his decision, Richard went straight to sleep.

Around midnight, a wild rabbit came by.

The room he lived in was dark during the day and dark at night.

At that moment, a path of light brushed against the opposite wall, made two turns, and finally reached his window.

Richard was awakened by the light outside and then discovered a snow-white wild rabbit perched on the window, with a small roll of paper wrapped around its hind leg.

Richard pushed open the window, and the rabbit shrank back half a step, then raised its leg and stomped heavily on the windowsill. "Whose rabbit are you?"

Despite saying that, he had already seen through his psychic vision the etheric traces that McFee had deliberately left behind.

The rabbit stomped its foot again.

He reached out to untie the roll of paper, and the rabbit tilted its head and gently bit his tiger's mouth.

Although only a white mark was left, the attitude was already very clear.

After it finished biting, it kicked Richard's hand with its hind leg, pushing him away.

Richard covered his hand and stepped back, then thought for a moment and handed over a piece of bread.

That was a late-night snack the landlady had found for him in the kitchen; it was already hard.

The hare sniffed it, then turned its head away, presenting the back of its head to him.

Richard was at his wit's end and could only untie the paper to see what was inside.

While he was looking down, the hare still managed to snatch the hard bread away.

The letter appeared to be torn from a hotel ledger; the back was printed with the name of a hotel in Thessaloniki and a price list in Greek. The writing was in pencil, heavily pressed, and had torn the paper in several places.

Richard:

You received the Chief's letter. Winter Solstice, Saint Gotthard, do not approach the mountain pass.

But I know that if you want to go, no one can stop you.

Let me tell you about my side. Women aren't allowed on Mount Athos, Professor... (repeated plot points omitted here)

……

This rabbit bites; don't touch it with hands that have been soaked in hot water.

How's the food in the Apennines?

I heard food is expensive in Milan, so don't order three portions by yourself again.

Professor Mortimer is getting old; please take good care of him.

It's getting cold, and your coat is too thin; it won't keep out the wind.

Oh, and remember to reply!

The accounts haven't been settled yet. —.

Richard read the letter from beginning to end, and when he came to the line "Don't order three servings by yourself again," he felt that the words sounded somewhat familiar.

My younger sister likes to say it, my mother likes to say it, and my aunt also says it when she brings me roasted pork knuckle.

Clara once said this during a tutoring session in room 314: "Don't always stay up until the wee hours. Don't you think lamp oil is free?"

Grey handed him a sandwich on a bench in Kensington Gardens and said, "You've lost weight again."

On the back of Lillian's laurel wreath bookmark was written: May you be well.

Now Catherine is also saying: Eat, sleep, it's cold, don't get hurt, her tone is about 70-80% similar to the people before her.

Richard stood by the window, holding the letter, his expression somewhat complicated.

He pulled the IOU out of his notebook; the IOUs had been piling up and had never been cleared.

The hare had finished eating its bread and was now washing its face with its two front paws.

Richard sighed, stuffed the IOU back into his notebook, sat down at the table, and picked up a pen. He wrote two lines and crossed them out, then wrote two more and crossed them out again, until only a few sentences remained:

Catherine:

I received the letter, and the rabbit bit me.

The food in Milan is indeed expensive, but I only ate two portions, not three.

Professor Mortimer is doing well; he's snoring next door.

I have other things to do on the night of the winter solstice, so I will be careful.

You wrote an IOU in July, and this one is subject to interest.

—l.”

He turned to the last page of the notebook, where a photograph was tucked away.

That afternoon in July, Catherine shoved the manuscript of the sealing and deflection ceremony into his arms, took two steps back, plopped down on the old sofa, and fell asleep.

In the photo, the girl is slumped on an old sofa.

Her long red hair was disheveled, her lips were slightly parted, and her face showed no trace of her usual aloofness. Richard had just gained the ability to take pictures after the Sphinx Lamp's second transformation, and inexplicably, he took a picture of her rarely seen sleeping face.

The hare turned its head, sniffed the paper roll wrapped around its hind leg, then looked up at Richard with a complicated expression.

After looking at Richard, it turned around, leaped, and landed back in the light, turning two corners along the alley and disappearing.

A north wind blew in through the cracks in the window, and Richard shivered, his mind clearing up a bit.

He secretly took pictures of girls sleeping without any defenses, saved them up for four months, and sent them back to Catherine tonight as "interest".

The opponent can crack a stone with a single punch and scatter evil spirits with a single whip.

"...What am I thinking?"

Richard regretted it and rushed to the window to look outside.

The alley was pitch black; the light path had long since disappeared.

A cough came from the next room, followed by Mortimer's disgruntled snort:

"...You brat, what are you doing opening the window in the middle of the night? It's freezing!"

"Let it air out." "What air out? You blew out my stove!"

Richard closed the window, sat back on the edge of the bed, and covered his face with his hands.

After a while, he remembered the letter that the old scholar had given him some time ago, from Lillian.

"Your Excellency:"

Thank you for that night. I don't know how to address you. You said you would not eat, drink, or swear oaths.

I thought about it for a long time and decided that a letter shouldn't be included here, so I wrote it anyway.

There are a few things I'd like to ask, but you don't have to answer them.

When you knocked, you first knocked two short knocks followed by one long knock; this was a secret signal I had agreed upon with someone.

Before you left the main hall, you said something in Latin, qi e ipisir (He who dares will have it).

I left a note on that person's desk before, and it said this.

I will go to Helvetii during the first week of December.

Loki wanted to bring the newly recruited people to the foot of Mount Gotthard to get acquainted before the winter solstice. My mentor also had to go to Zurich, so we would go there first.

Later, a patient will be going to a sanatorium, so we will go to Helvedi ahead of time.

If Your Excellency had been here at that time, I would have liked to thank you in person.

If Your Excellency does not recognize the person I am referring to, please burn this letter.

If you recognize...

Please tell him for me that winters in Prague are colder than in Briston, and the titmouse is still on the window.

—Skadi (crossed out)

The patient going to the nursing home, isn't that Lillian's mother?

However, the other party remained reserved and did not explain things too clearly.

Does this mean I have to deduce the specific location myself?

Richard put the two letters together. Now Catherine was saying not to go near the mountain pass, but Lillian was going there. This was really...

He lay back down on the bed. In the alley, a cat jumped down from someone's roof, knocking over an empty flowerpot as it landed. The next morning, an argument broke out in the small living room downstairs.

Mortimer sat by the fireplace, confronting the innkeeper.

The proprietress held a plate of sliced ​​lemons in her hand, her expression kind and gentle, much like a mother looking at her child who refused to take his medicine.

As Richard came down the stairs, the proprietress immediately turned to him and spoke a long string of words in Genoese dialect.

Richard only understood the gist of it:

Her pilot husband used to put lemon in his tea every morning, and after drinking it, his voice wouldn't be hoarse even after a whole day at sea.

Mortimer's hand, protecting the teapot, remained perfectly still.

"Tell her that I've been teaching at the Imperial University for a hundred years and my voice has never gone hoarse."

Richard translated it for him.

The proprietress thought for a moment and then said something else.

She said it was because you hadn't spoken at sea in a hundred years.

The old professor twitched his beard and glanced at the photograph behind the cabinet, which was draped in black gauze. In the photograph, a pilot with a mustache stood at the bow of a small boat.

With one hand resting on the side of the ship, he squinted at the camera, perhaps because he found the studio lights too bright.

Mortimer removed his hand from the rim of the glass.

"...just one piece."

The proprietress put one in with satisfaction, and then added another one when he wasn't looking.

Richard walked to the window with his coffee and smiled contentedly.

Actually, he suggested this last night when the landlady brought him some late-night snacks.

After finishing breakfast, Richard went back upstairs and continued reading the Mahabharata.

Occasionally, a diary entry will appear in the margins, completely unrelated to the main text.

For example, "It's so hot today, the ink is dry on the tip of the brush," or "The rainy season is coming, and swarms of mosquitoes have arrived first."

Today he decided to flip to the next page, and he found the densest section:

"There is a strange spell in the subcontinent that can be described as neither a ritual nor a technique. In Sanskrit, this method is called sy-riyā, which I translate as i veriis (the practice of mantras)."

Its method is not achieved through incantations, but through truth.

The speaker first states their own truth, and then states what they want.

The greater the truth stated, the more likely the request will be fulfilled.

The truth must be the speaker's own; the truth of others cannot be borrowed.

"When Sita (Rama's wife) entered the fire, she also used this method, and the fire could not burn her."

Savidri also used this method when traveling with Yama.

The women in the village also used this method to cure their sick children; this method was used regardless of social status.

The last two lines were written very small and the ink was light:

"Every time I use it, it never works."

Perhaps it's because my truth is too fragile, or perhaps there's doubt in my heart; doubt, in itself, is falsehood.

Richard put the leaf down; now that he'd read this far, he wanted to give it a try. He first took a box of matches from the drawer and bolted the door.

He knows a lot of truths, most of which are quite mild:

His surname is Williams, he was born in Briston, he is eighteen years old, and he ate two servings of risotto for dinner yesterday.

He cleared his throat, feeling that he looked a bit silly.

"If everything I say is true."

I was born in Bristol... so let's not burn this match.

He pressed the match head against the sandpaper on the side of the box, but it didn't light.

He wiped it again, but it still didn't light.

The third strike shattered the red phosphorus in the match head into pieces, and the matchstick broke in half.

The matchstick in Richard's hand broke in two.

There was a knock on the door, and the landlady's voice came through the door:

"Sir? I heard you striking a match several times at the door, but it wouldn't light. The matches in your room got damp. The day before yesterday, I was hanging clothes upstairs, and the window wasn't closed properly, so the rain came in and soaked the matches."

A dry, new matchbox was slipped under the door, and the landlady continued from outside:

"The new box is dry, please use the new one."

Richard looked down at the new matchbox, then at the matchstick that had broken in two.

There were no footsteps coming downstairs outside the door; the landlady was still standing there.

"There's one more thing. Sir, you said yesterday that you wanted to drink hot milk, so I saved a cup for you."

Keep it warm on the stove downstairs. Remember to come down and drink it.

Richard had no recollection of saying he wanted to drink milk yesterday; he had to go back in time.

Yesterday evening, he returned from the university library and asked the shopkeeper if she had sent a letter to Richard.

The word "xin" in Apennine is "leer." Richard misplaced the stress, and the first two syllables were vaguely connected together. To the landlady, it probably sounded like "e," which means milk.

"...Thank you, landlady," Richard said through the door.

The proprietress answered from outside the door, "You're welcome. You Albion people are short, so you should drink more milk." After she finished speaking, footsteps echoed down the stairs.

Richard threw the broken match into the wastepaper basket and opened the dry matchbox.

In the second experiment, he changed the rules. After lighting the candle, he opened the window, and the sea breeze squeezed into the room from the direction of the harbor, causing the flame to bend towards the inside of the room due to the wind.

He used the condensation method to compress the microcirculation into a still, ripple-free surface, and then opened it:

"If I'm telling the truth... my last name is Williams, so let the flames drift out the window."

The wind continued to blow into the room. The flame hesitated for a moment, straightened up, and then slowly and reluctantly leaned against the wind towards the window.

Richard did not move. The Tree of Light of the Sun remained calm and still, with not a single drop of ether escaping from its microcirculation. The flame was being supported by a force other than himself.

The flame veered towards the window for three breaths before collapsing back to its original position.

The sea breeze blew in through the window, pushing the flames back into the room.

Richard tried again with a different lie: "If I'm telling the truth, and I have Blackburn blood, then let the flames drift out the window."

The flames continued to lean into the house without the slightest hesitation.

Richard breathed a sigh of relief. The Blackburn family and Richard's family were not related by blood, which made Richard quite relieved. It seemed that the Ashford family's ancestors had never intermarried with the Daren family. If they had, Richard might have inherited one or two of their family's magical techniques.

He felt a little regretful, as he had always envied Maggie and Montagu.

During the third test, Richard got greedy and set very high requirements right from the start:

"If I'm telling the truth, my last name is Williams, and I'll make all the windows in the room open by themselves."

The window remained unmoved, so Richard had to compromise and lower his demands slightly:

"If I'm telling the truth, my last name is Williams, so move the water glass on the table an inch."

The glass remained untouched, and not a single ripple appeared on the surface of the water.

Richard sat back in his chair, stared at his water glass for a long time, and came to a conclusion: "My surname is Williams" is too insignificant, probably only enough to stomp a flame.

If you want to move the water glass, you need to say something more substantial and truthful.

The first thing that popped into his mind was his mother's name. Richard opened his mouth, but then closed it again without making a sound.

Family matters weigh heavily on Richard's mind; he doesn't want to put his mother, Evelyn, and grandfather on the scales.

Richard finally chose a statement he felt carried enough weight, one that had nothing to do with his family: "If I'm telling the truth, and I've read a lot of books, then move the water glass on the table an inch."

The water glass remained untouched. Richard frowned and changed the second half of his statement back to the small request he had verified earlier: "If I'm telling the truth, and I've read many books, then let the flames spill out the window."

The flame didn't move, so the whole statement was essentially meaningless.

Richard tried it three times in a row, and the result was the same each time.

After much thought, Richard realized the problem lay in the "many".

How many books are considered a lot?

A dockworker who has read three books is considered to have read a lot;

To achieve the level of mastery that Professor Mortimer possessed, reading 30,000 books would probably only be the beginning.

When you reach the administrator, reading three million books is not much; all the books in the world originally belong to Him.

Richard threw the matchbox on the table, collapsed onto the bed, and suddenly remembered that the mantra seemed to not require a loop.

He continued thinking along the lines of the mantra and came to the oath ceremony of the Lesser Master.

During the oath-taking ceremony, Clara stood at the center and said, "I stand between lies and truth," and the curtain copied Clara's oath verbatim. The senior's oath was also a truth, carrying immense weight; the person who uttered the oath had to pledge a wisp of their soul as a guarantee.

………………

Mercury treated him to dinner on the last weekend of November.

The restaurant is located on the breakwater of the old harbor. The tables by the window are almost suspended above the water, and when the tide comes in, the waves crash right under the floor, which is quite interesting.

Mercury arrived early and had already ordered the food.

After the dishes were served and the waiter had left, he picked up his wine glass.

"I followed all the methods you suggested the other day, and business on this street is even better than in previous years."

Richard bent down to remove the fish bones.

"Last month, that cotton merchant in Marseille placed an extra order. And that shipowner in Livorno introduced his cousin to us as well."

Mercury got more and more excited as he spoke.

"Yesterday, a Swiss man I'd never met before walked in and said the first thing he said was, 'I saw you in the General Chamber of Commerce directory.'"

He put down his wine glass, his businessman's shrewdness vanished, and he sincerely thanked him: "I really have to thank you this time."

Richard's Hermes mask suddenly became hot.

His hand holding the knife trembled, scraping it across the plate with a sharp sound.

An elderly gentleman wearing pince-nez glasses at the next table looked up, then looked down again.

In that instant, Richard felt that his third divinely crafted weapon had been successfully formed.

"Your Mightiness?"

"There was a fish bone stuck in my throat."

He suppressed the strange feeling, a sheepish smile on his face, and prepared to go back and check what new things the Hermes mask had given him.

Mercury nodded considerately and placed a piece of fish belly on his plate.

"Sea bream has hard spines, but this piece is spineless."

Richard ate the fish belly, and the mask burned painfully on his chest.

Halfway through the fish meal, Mercury brought up the goods. "The knotted rope from Peru, once it arrives, I'll have the Chamber of Commerce issue a certificate stating it's an academic specimen, and send it directly to No. 7, Huayue Street, the capital."

"Where's the bark paper?"

"We have to wait for the ship from Tampico to depart from Oaxaca."

Mercury sighed.

"Several factions are vying for the capital in the central sea of ​​the New World this year, and the ports are opening and closing intermittently. The latest it may be will be next spring."

When the waiter came to clear the plates, Mercury waited until he was out of sight before continuing.

"There's another piece of news, free of charge, just for you."

"Please speak."

He drew a winding line on the tablecloth with his finger.

"Starting in mid-November, the entire northern border of the Apennines was placed under military control."

"Civilians need the signature of the military region command to leave the country, which takes at least two weeks, and even then, there's no guarantee of getting a signature."

He moved his finger to the other side of the line. "It's more complicated in Helvetia. Foreigners must register at the Foreign Police Station within 24 hours of entering the country, writing down which hotel they stayed at, who they met, and when they left."

Their troops guarded every mountain pass, and soldiers were stationed even on the sheep-herding paths.

Mercury spread his hands.

"As you know, this location is bordered by Germania to the north, France to the west, us to the south, and Austria-Hungary to the east. There are wars on all sides, and they are right in the middle."

He finished the last drop in his glass.

"If you wish to return to your country, it would be best if you left this month."

"What about next month?"

"Next month, you might not even be able to buy a train ticket."

At this point, Mercury casually added:

"Speaking of which, there were two people from Cairo who spent the whole afternoon in the insurance shop diagonally across from me, asking me nothing but directions to Helvedi."

"It's indeed rare to see guests from Cairo."

Richard smiled knowingly, but inwardly he was on high alert. Was there some activity on the Black Earth River in Cairo?

After finishing his meal, Mercury bowed slightly to Richard and turned to walk towards the old town.

After taking a few steps, he turned back and called out:

"The bark paper has arrived. I'll have Piero send you a telegram. Where should it be sent?"

Richard thought about it.

"Send it to Beijing University."

"The Petrie Building?"

Room 314.

Mercury raised his hand in a "I've got it" gesture and turned into the alley.

When Richard returned, Mortimer surprisingly said that he also wanted to go to Helvetii.

The committee's batch of copies was sent to the monastery's cellar, and Professor Taliaferro sent a telegram.

The telegram said that several copies were in "somewhat strange condition," without specifying what was wrong, so the old professor wanted to see them for himself. Richard asked, "After Helvétie, Germania is to the north. How do we get back?"

Mortimer said that if you cross the Alps to Franco, you can go directly back from Calais.

This person is trying to think of themselves as Hannibal or Napoleon.

Richard was reminded of Napoleon's famous painting of him riding a white horse.

"Professor, Hannibal had elephants when he crossed the Alps, Napoleon had horses... We have nothing, are we just going to cross the Alps on foot?"

Just then, someone came in from outside the door.

Mr. Williams.

Piero, who had been sent to run errands, nodded to Richard as he entered the room, then saw Mortimer and his hand trembled.

"...And good evening, sir."

Mortimer glanced at him.

"You're the one who brought me tea that day."

"Yes." "The tea is brewed well."

Piero's face flushed red, whether from the praise or the shock, it was hard to tell.

He came to tell Richard that there was an expo organized by the Genoa municipal government the day after tomorrow, Saturday.

Mercury also relayed a message to Richard, saying that fewer people came this year due to the war, and the goods on display were more varied.

Many people are in a hurry to exchange their money for cash, so they've dug out all sorts of old antiques from their homes.

After Piero left, Mortimer bluntly stated that he was too old and frail to go, and that Richard should go by himself.

Richard had no choice but to go back to his room.

The "Shadow Reversal" branch-breaking technique, along with new divinely crafted weapons, await his attention.

I have to go on the journey to the spirit world next month on the winter solstice, so I need to make more preparations.