Above the mage

Chapter 131 A Man Like a Stone

After reviewing the materials Hosie O'Kenley had asked him to read and completing the "homework exercises" and "homework reflection questions" he had "assigned," God placed his answer sheet under his notebook and quietly left the rune workshop.

"Read the documents on the table first, and then you can leave"—this was Hosie O'Kenley's instruction.

Gaode acted strictly according to the instructions.

So, after he left, the huge rune workshop fell into a long silence.

After a long, long time, a faint sound broke the silence of the workspace.

That was the sound of the door to a small room inside the workshop being gently pushed open.

Immediately afterwards, an old man with a cane came out.

The old man was wearing a very simple and old-fashioned gray robe, without any patterns, which was so plain that it was almost shabby.

His hair was already gray, but it was combed meticulously.

His forehead was covered in wrinkles, and his eye sockets were slightly sunken, but his blue eyes were not cloudy; they were as deep as lake water.

The old man looked slightly tired.

He's getting old and his energy isn't what it used to be, yet he's doing the things that consume the most energy.

He was Hosie O'Kenley, the mentor to whom God was assigned.

He hasn't taken on any students in a long time.

No one wanted to be his student.

Although he is a third-ring monk.

Although his positions at Cyrus Academy are: Senior Instructor, Head of Rune Department, and Chief Rune Instructor.

Although his area of ​​expertise is runic constructs, which are hailed as the "crown jewel of runic literature".

Although he is the only runemaster in the entire Duchy of Sien who can create Tier 3 rune constructs.

However, his research on "rune logic and computation" was considered nonsense by other mentors in the rune department, and even by the few high-ranking rune masters in the entire Duchy of Sean, and a dead end leading to a precipice.

In fact, it's more than that.

Long ago, in the most advanced place on this continent in terms of rune technology, Hosie O'Kenley's research was already considered a fantasy and had been rejected more than once.

All the students knew that following such a mentor would only lead to "wasting their youth" like him, then "being driven to despair," or even failing to graduate.

Furthermore, He west will not provide any resources to the students.

No one in the Duchy of Sean could understand why Hosie O'Kenley, who should have had a bright future and was able to create third-tier rune constructs at such a young age, would become so immersed in such a wrong path and unable to extricate himself.

He didn't improve his mage level, his runic writing skills, or attempt to create a fourth-tier runic construct capable of altering the ecology of the Principality of Sean—a construct that, if successful, would elevate him to instant power.

Instead, they put all their time and energy into something that even a layman would know is impossible.

Fifty years ago, Hosie O'Kenley could easily create Tier 3 rune constructs.

Fifty years later, however, he made no progress whatsoever.

Other instructors in the Rune Department advised him, Dean Shel Ian advised him, and even King Jeros XIII of the Duchy of Sean personally advised him.

Everyone hopes he can abandon this wrong path and get back on the right track.

But Hosie O'Kennedy was like the gold ore in the mines beneath Coolie Cliff—shining with gold, yet foul and hard, silent, unchangeable and unshakable by anyone.

His research findings, like his personality, are both obscure and inflexible.

In layman's terms, it means "no matter how much time is spent, there is no substantial progress."

"Someone should be dissatisfied," murmured the very old Hosie O'Kenley.

He knew that the college had used the former dean's recommendation letter to force a student onto him, just to give him a warning.

For fifty years since arriving at the Cyrus Academy of Magic, Hosie Oakenley has devoted all his energy to the seemingly hopeless subject of "rune logic and calculation," yet has made no progress.

As a once renowned figure in the rune literature world of the Principality of Xin, he gradually disappeared from people's sight.

Like the sweeping monk hidden in the Shaolin Temple, he silently sweeps the floor, concealing his martial arts skills.

The academy had long been dissatisfied with his behavior, and the continuous reduction of their rune department's funding over the years was a sign of this.

For this reason, other instructors in the Rune Department also had some complaints.

Everyone hoped he would do the right thing—create rune constructs.

It won't take long for Hosie Oakenley to refocus his efforts on "Rune Construction," and once he makes that decision, the Rune system can regain its former glory.

But he continued to do things his own way.

"I don't have many years left. What I didn't care about when I was young, why would I care about now?" Hosie O'Kenley said softly.

He didn't understand why the academy didn't grasp this principle, but he knew he was nearing the end of his life.

Despite spending so much time and effort, his research has still not made any breakthrough progress.

However, Jose was not disappointed.

A few decades is a negligible amount of time in the history of talisman literature.

Moreover, what he wants to do is to completely overturn the existing system of rune literature that has been developing for thousands of years.

Decades of time and the efforts of one person to accomplish this "great feat" are as unrealistic as a grain of sand trying to fill the sea.

History has long proven that to achieve disruptive or leapfrog development in a system, it either requires the wholehearted and painstaking research of several or even a dozen generations, or the emergence of an epoch-making figure like Leo Monk who created the Eighth Ring spell.

He west, however, neither believes nor aspires to be that kind of person.

He simply followed his heart, researching what he believed to be right, and leaving something behind so that even after his death, he would leave some information and direction for future generations.

However, after all these years, no one has ever followed him, and not even one has ever agreed with him.

As he realized that time was running out, his feelings underwent a subtle change.

If he has no peers or admirers, then after his death, it is likely that no one will remember his research.

By then, everything he had accomplished with his life's work would probably be seen by others as nothing more than a few absurd lines on a piece of paper.

They would be carelessly thrown into some garbage dump in the college, rotting away with putrid food scraps and crawling with worms.

The old man sighed softly. He had anticipated this possibility, but there was nothing he could do to prevent it from happening.

As the old man pondered this, he walked to the workbench in the center of the rune workshop.

Although the student named Gao De was forced upon him by the college to serve as a reminder and a warning, he has always been a very responsible person.

Regardless of how this student came to be, since he has taken him as his mentor, He west will teach him some runic arts.

Of course, this is on the premise that the person is willing to learn and can learn it.

He hadn't taken on any students in a long time and had forgotten how to teach one.

So last night he even took two hours to review the introductory book on rune literature, which was almost fading from his memory.

Then, some materials were compiled for "Gaode" to help him gain a preliminary understanding of the profound subject of "Symbolic Literature" in the shortest possible time.

However, He west glanced at the worktable and did not find the materials he had prepared last night.

He thought about it carefully, then tapped his cane with some annoyance.

"I'm getting senile. I was in a rush to come here for testing this morning and forgot to bring my documents. I even subconsciously thought I had them with me."

Then, He west thought of another question.

Since you didn't bring the documents, what was that freshman named Gaode doing?

Did they just leave without even seeing the information or asking me anything?

He Xi frowned slightly. He could understand Gao De's decision to "give up" after reviewing the information, but he could not accept Gao De's "departure without saying goodbye".

"Sigh!" He sighed again, feeling that it was pointless to worry about this at a time like this.

However, the countless hardships he endured as a child to learn "Symbolic Literature" made Hosie instinctively reject this behavior of not cherishing the opportunity to "learn".

Thinking this, he began to tidy up the calculation papers that had been carelessly scattered yesterday.

After organizing and categorizing everything, He west closed his handwritten notes, preparing to take them back and make several more copies.

Making multiple copies might ensure that one or two of them don't end up in the trash.

The old man found his idea somewhat ridiculous, but he was genuinely prepared to put it into practice.

However, after picking up the notebook, the old man discovered that there was a piece of manuscript paper under his notebook.

"Did I forget to collect and categorize the calculations from one of those days?" he wondered, his gaze unconsciously falling on the manuscript paper and on the handwriting that was clearly not his.

Then, the old man's pupils dilated for the first time in a long time, and his eyes, which were as calm as a lake, suddenly became turbulent.

(End of this chapter)