Chapter 191 - 166: There Was an Expert Among My Ancestors

"I can’t remember her exact name.

Our family reveres her name, but that ancestor... left... more than four hundred years before I was born."

Richard understood.

When one reached that Tier, the end was rarely death.

She might still exist in some form, but she was no longer in a place where she could watch over her family.

"So this Cyan Green Ring... was it passed down from her?"

"It was one of the first Techniques she established. I’ve heard the Cyan Green Ring back then was completely different from the one I use now."

"How was it different?"

"In my grandmother’s own words..."

The freckled girl gazed at the dark, heavy mountain ridge in the distance.

"When her mother—my great-grandmother—used the Cyan Green Ring, she could draw the aura of half a mountain’s worth of leaves to herself, concealing the movements of over a hundred people."

"Not only would Swamp Corpses be unable to see the group, but even if a Middle Tier Evil Being saw it, they would just think it was a nice patch of forest."

’Concealing over a hundred people?’ Richard imagined the scene.

’It’s still so powerful after being passed down for several generations. How terrifying must it have been when the first-generation Expert used it? Could she have made an entire city invisible?’

"By my generation... it can only fool Enchanting Lamps. Against Swamp Corpses, I have to time it just right."

"Fooling Lower-rank Evil Beings for a few seconds is the limit. Don’t even think about trying it on Middle Tier ones."

There was no trace of regret in her voice.

Richard’s thoughts churned.

’Hereditary bloodline Techniques... I’ve never really thought about that path before.’

The Hunter Clans passed down their abilities through bones, muscles, and nerve reflexes—that was on the Material Layer.

But the Technique itself could actually be carved into the bloodline, passed down across centuries.

But... with each generation, the imprint grew a little fainter.

"Then why does it get weaker and weaker?"

"The family tree branched out."

Maggie held her hand out, palm up.

"From my great-great-grandmother’s line down to my generation, there are so many cousins of all kinds."

"Everyone gets a tiny piece, and each tiny piece is smaller than the one from the generation before."

"It’s like a jug of wine," she gestured.

"There’s only so much wine. The first generation drinks the pure stuff. The second generation’s is watered down once. The third generation’s is watered down again."

"By the time it gets to my generation, how much ’wine flavor’ is left in the jug is all up to luck."

"My luck is decent," she shrugged. "At least the Technique isn’t completely gone. I can barely use it, so I can work as support."

"My older cousin only has the ability to ’smell’ things left. She can react to Evil Beings a step faster than a normal person."

"But she can’t use the Technique itself. She can’t even form a Shadow of the Cyan Green Ring."

"And then there are others who don’t even have the ’smell’ and are instead just unusually afraid of the dark since childhood."

Richard finally understood completely.

A bloodline Technique was an ancestral inheritance, constantly diluted with each new person.

What the ninth generation received was the original liquid, watered down nine times.

"Then can the diluted version be systematically learned..."

"If you’re not in this bloodline, you can’t even get a sip of the diluted water." Maggie quashed his idea.

"I could teach you the incantation and hand signs, and you could recite and copy them perfectly, but the Ether just wouldn’t follow that path for you."

"The Cyan Green Ring itself only recognizes those from my great-great-grandmother’s line."

Maggie continued explaining, "My mom said that for a High Tier individual at the Expert level, the way their Technique works is completely different from a Grand Mastery."

"An Expert’s Technique is carved into their bones—their own bones, and the bones of their descendants."

It was as if Maggie’s floodgates had opened.

"Our family is considered an ’old family with a history’ in the Hunter circles of the Gael Highlands."

"The history is real, but now, it’s just history."

"Now, the Hunters in my family are just ordinary Hunters. They earn money to support the family, survive their fieldwork to come home and raise their kids, and that’s it."

Richard thought of a new angle.

"Can a hereditary bloodline Technique be ’re-concentrated’?"

"For example, if a Middle High Tier individual appeared in a generation, would that make the Technique stronger for their descendants?"

"You think fast. I was just about to bring that up." Maggie glanced at him.

"Our family booklet does say that for every Minor Mastery or higher Middle Tier individual that appears, the foundation in the bloodline gets a little boost."

"But who can we blame but ourselves, the disappointing descendants..." she shrugged.

"In the last hundred years or so, our family has only produced three people with Minor Mastery. The boost they provided doesn’t even come close to how much is diluted with each generation."

The wind blew between them.

"Richard." Maggie started asking what she wanted to ask.

"Hm?"

"Mr. Hutton’s words from earlier... what did you think of them?"

Richard finished chewing his last chestnut and casually tossed the shell fragments into a clump of dry grass at the base of the wall.

"That final analogy he used: ’You think you are Walking the path, but the path is actually Walking you.’"

Richard looked at the dark, heavy silhouette on the distant wasteland.

"I’ve heard a similar saying before: ’When you gaze into the Abyss, the Abyss gazes also into you.’"

"...Where is that from?"

"Nietzsche. The textbooks don’t say much about him." Richard said vaguely. "The two phrases mean roughly the same thing."

Maggie bit open a chestnut.

"So are you going to listen to him?"

"Of course I’ll listen. You have to take advice to get by."

Richard’s reply was crisp.

"At least, until I carry enough weight, I won’t actively touch that path."

"And what if you do carry enough weight someday?"

Richard didn’t lie. "We’ll see when the time comes."

Maggie shot him a look, seemingly unsurprised.

"I figured you’d say that."

"Why?"

"Because of your eyes." Maggie peeled the shell off a second chestnut.

"Just now, when Mr. Hutton was talking about multiple overwrites... you were completely focused, like a student hearing a teacher go over key points for an exam. You were just short of taking out a pen to take notes."

"I was sitting right across from you. I saw it as clear as day."

Richard let out a soft sigh.

"What about you?" he asked in return.

"Me?"

"Mr. Hutton’s words were meant for you, too."

Maggie popped the peeled chestnut into her mouth and chewed slowly.

"My family is a Hunter Clan. My dad, my brother, my cousins, my aunt, my uncle—they’re all Hunters.

My mom is the only one who follows the Secret Direction, but she almost never talks about it at home."

"The night before I left for this winter internship... she called me over to the fireplace and told me one thing."

"What did she say?" Richard felt a sense of déjà vu.

"She said that for generations, the Hunter Clans have had Hunters charging into the fray, while occasionally, a Secretive One or a Scholar would stay home and stand guard."

"Guarding the stories, the rules, the little tunes and booklets passed down from our ancestors."

"Hunters see the flesh of Evil Beings, but Scholars see the roots behind them, which is actually more dangerous."

Hearing this, Richard remembered his own mother tightly gripping his hand before he got on the train.

He remembered her saying, "In front of the Curtain, strength is a shield; behind the Curtain, strength is bait..."

Her words and Maggie’s mother’s words were of the same kind.

Only someone who had seen the world behind the Curtain and willingly walked back could say such things.

"So..." Richard began softly, "you won’t touch that path?"

"I won’t." Maggie’s answer this time was even more decisive than Richard’s.

"The twenty or thirty pounds my brother brings home every year is more than enough for my family to live well.

I’ll study hard, find a proper teaching position after graduation, and become a Guide in the Scholar Direction, just like Mr. Hutton.

When I’m old, I’ll sit by the fireplace and tell stories to my grandchildren until they fall asleep, and I’ll doze off right along with them."

"That’s what I want."

She turned her head to look at Richard. "And you? What do you want?"

Richard was a little taken aback by the question.

No one had ever asked him so directly before.

Mr. Hutton would guide him to think for himself;

His mother would worry he was thinking too much;

And Evelyn only thought about snacks and bakeries.

He looked out at the wasteland in the distance.

The stars above the wasteland had grown denser. One, particularly bright, hung directly in his line of sight.

"I want... to give my family a better life."

Maggie’s lips parted slightly. "That’s it?"

"That’s it," Richard nodded.

"You’re so smart, your inspiration is high, you won second place in the Cicero Cup, and Mrs. MacNeil and the others all admire you. And that’s all you want?"

"Yeah." Richard didn’t explain, pulling his gaze back from the stars.

"My sister needs to continue her education, and my mom’s health isn’t good.

My dad’s salary is stretched thin supporting the family. I want them to stop having to count every single pence."

"And then?"

"And then..." Richard mused, "I want to read more books."

The wind blew between them.

The freckled girl turned her head to look at him:

"’Reading more books’ doesn’t sound at all like someone who plans to spend their life in a library."

Richard didn’t reply.

The chestnuts were finished. Maggie closed the lid on the tin box and tucked it back into her pocket.

"Mr. Hutton’s words earlier were directed more at you. I was just a side warning."

"You have that ’urge to dig deeper’ in you."

Without waiting for Richard to react, she turned and started walking back toward the inn.

Richard stood where he was, watching the starry sky for a while longer.

That brightest star still hung at the edge of the sky.