Chapter 94: Laurel Branch

"I understand." Richard nodded.

"Glad to hear it." Mr. Hutton flipped his lesson plan back to the first page and picked up his red pen, ready to resume grading.

"One more thing. You've been spending a fair amount of time with Lillian lately."

Richard didn't answer, waiting for him to continue.

Mr. Hutton chose his next words carefully.

"I sidestepped the questions you asked about her last time, and I still don't intend to discuss her situation directly."

He pulled the cap off his red pen, then snapped it back on.

"But I will tell you this."

"That girl's aptitude is equal to yours. In certain respects, she's even more meticulous. She's spent more time on those third-floor books than you have; passages you skimmed, she scrutinized word by word."

Mr. Hutton twisted the pen cap tight.

"Yet she's been stuck in the exact same spot for over half a year."

Mr. Hutton drew a line on his lesson plan.

"I'm not asking you to tutor her. You're a long way from graduating yourself."

"But there are things friends can say to one another that a teacher can't."

"She spent half a year poring over those books, pushed the door open a crack, took one look inside, and retreated because she thought it was too dark."

"Some mental hurdles, some doors a person just can't push open alone... it makes a difference to have someone standing beside you, pushing against the same door."

Having said his piece, the old gentleman lowered his head, returning his full attention to the lesson plan.

The boundary of his meaning was clear: I won't interfere with your friendship, but if you can lend a hand, do it.

Whether Richard could actually help, and to what extent, was his own business, not an assignment.

Richard didn't make any promises on the spot.

He already had a rough idea of Lillian's situation.

From bumping into her in the stairwell the afternoon of the Spirit Board incident, to the note she left before the Cicero Cup, to the quiet silhouette that occasionally appeared at the edge of his vision on the library's second floor.

She had been lingering at the edge of the veil, her hand already touching the doorframe, but her feet had never taken the step across.

He understood what Mr. Hutton meant by mental hurdles.

Barriers of knowledge could be worn down with time and talent, but psychological thresholds required something else to pry them open.

Courage, or a fellow traveler.

He didn't linger on the topic, turning instead to another question he had been mulling over.

"Sir, I'd like to confirm the upcoming schedule with you."

Mr. Hutton's pen didn't stop. "Go ahead."

"The Empire's standard academic year consists of three terms. We're currently at the tail end of the autumn term, with the Christmas holiday starting at the end of December. After Christmas comes the spring term, running roughly from early January to the end of March. Then comes the Easter holiday, followed by the summer term, which ends in late June."

"Correct."

"The winter internship you mentioned earlier is scheduled during the Christmas holiday, meaning late December to early January."

"Yes."

"And after the summer term ends?"

Mr. Hutton's pen stopped.

He pushed the lesson plan toward the center of the desk and leaned back in his chair.

"You're asking about the summer schedule."

"I am."

"I recall telling you before that there will be a summer research program over in the Imperial Capital."

Richard nodded.

Greenwood itself offered university preparatory courses; the older students he saw in the corridors were enrolled in them.

At the end of this academic year, a normal progression would place him directly into Greenwood's prep program.

He would study in Briston for another two years, then take the university entrance exams.

If he took that path, he could get into either of the two local colleges in Briston.

Their admission thresholds weren't high, and the teaching quality was passable; for most Greenwood students, it was a perfectly respectable outcome.

But now that Richard knew the inner workings of the academy system, that path was no longer an option.

Imperial Capital University, the Royal Academy, St. Augustine College... the realities behind those names far exceeded the glamorous titles printed in newspapers.

The true core resources, connections, and avenues leading deeper past the veil were all concentrated within the walls of those top institutions in the Imperial Capital.

Greenwood's prep classes couldn't cultivate the abilities he needed, and Briston's local colleges were even less capable of it.

He only had one choice: after this academic year ended, he had to go to the Imperial Capital for his prep studies.

And the gateway into Imperial Capital University's prep program was the summer research program.

Every summer, the major Imperial Capital institutions recruited a batch of outstanding students from across the country for several weeks of intensive assessment.

Those who passed were placed directly into the prep programs, while those who failed returned to their hometowns to continue their studies and try again the following year.

Aside from local students who had grown up attending school in the Imperial Capital, this was the only official channel for provincial students to squeeze their way into the top universities.

Richard mentally mapped out this timeline.

It was mid-November, leaving about seven months until the end of the summer term.

His tasks for those seven months:

Learn Ancient Greek to decipher the secret art on the Gargoyle;

Complete the winter internship and secure the probatio;

Continue his breathing method training to push [Breathing] to Lv.3;

And break the seals on the Sphinx Oil Lamp, fully unlocking all four components of [Body] to see exactly what lay inside [Spirit].

Time was as tight as sand clenched in a fist—the moment he loosened his grip, it would spill out.

"Sir, what does the summer research program entail?"

"Different institutions have different arrangements. The summer research program for the Department of Classics at Imperial Capital University lasts four weeks. The first two weeks consist of intensive lectures and assessments, and the final two weeks involve specialized research led by mentors."

Mr. Hutton pulled a thin booklet from the bookshelf and flipped it open on the desk.

"At the end of the four weeks, there's a comprehensive evaluation. Those who pass enter directly into the preparatory classes of the Department of Classics at Imperial Capital University."

He closed the booklet.

"Those who fail can choose to return to their original schools and try again the following year. Or they can attend a regular university's prep program, though that shouldn't be an option for you. Judging by past years, the pass rate for the summer research program is around twenty percent."

A twenty percent pass rate was much more lenient than Richard had expected.

But those qualified to participate were already the cream of the crop, selected from across the regions.

A twenty percent pass rate meant that the vast majority of those elites would still wash out.

"The competitive environment in the Imperial Capital is entirely different from Briston," Mr. Hutton said, as if reading his mind.

"At Greenwood, you stand out like a crane among chickens, but in the Imperial Capital, you'll just be a crane among a flock of other cranes."

He returned the booklet to the shelf, his fingers lingering on the spine.

"You don't need to be too anxious, though. Your Cicero Cup results and the recommendation list are merely stepping stones; once you're through the door, what matters is genuine ability."

"On that front, I'm not overly worried about you."

He picked up his red pen again.

"As for Ancient Greek, however, you need to pick up the pace. The summer research program's assessment subjects include classical languages, covering both Latin and Ancient Greek."

"You'll have no issues with Latin, but if you hand in a blank paper for Ancient Greek, the judges' expressions will be quite something."

Richard shook his head and chuckled.

Yet another reason why he had to learn Ancient Greek.

Fortunately, the two tasks ran in parallel: learning Ancient Greek would let him crack the encrypted inscription and pass the summer research assessment.

Opening two doors with one key meant the time investment wouldn't go to waste.

Richard pulled the door open and stepped into the corridor.

Mr. Hutton didn't look up, his red pen already scratching across his lesson plan.

"Richard."

"Sir?"

"You're the first student in this school to take the initiative and knock on my office door."

"In the past, I was always the one holding people back. This time, it's the other way around."

"Would you prefer students not knock on your door, sir?"

"Of course I want them to." Mr. Hutton screwed the pen cap back on. "I've been waiting a long time."

He closed the lesson plan and aligned it neatly on the corner of his desk.

"Go on. There are two introductory Ancient Greek reference books on the third floor of the library. You can find the exact location yourself."

He added, "They aren't with the unlabeled shelves. They're proper language textbooks, located in the second row of the linguistics section."

"Understood."

......

By the time he walked out of the academic building, the corridors were largely empty.

Most of the students had headed to the athletic fields or returned to their classrooms for a midday nap, leaving only the hollow echo of his footsteps bouncing off the stairwell walls.

Richard walked along the connecting corridor toward the library.

The red brick building looked two shades darker under the overcast sky, making the lights shining through its windows all the more prominent.

He went up to the third floor and headed straight for the linguistics section.

Separated from the unlabeled shelves by more than half the floor's length, the bookcases in the linguistics area were affixed with orderly categorization cards, clearly numbered.

Second row. Richard crouched down and scanned the spines.

There were several Ancient Greek textbooks. He pulled out two that were suited for absolute beginners.

The first was an introduction to grammar, moderate in thickness, with an illustration of the Parthenon on the cover.

The second was an Ancient Greek–Albion Language bilingual dictionary, as heavy as a brick.

He carried both books over and set them on a table by the window.

Ancient Greek and Latin belonged to the same language family, with significant overlap in their root words.

His foundation in Latin would let him skip a considerable chunk of the vocabulary memorization.

However, the grammatical system of Ancient Greek possessed a few more features than Latin: the middle voice, the optative mood, dual declensions...

Just by looking at the table of contents in the grammar introduction, it was obvious that this language's declension tables were nearly twice as long as Latin's.

The boost from [Learning] Lv.2 would make his study speed significantly faster than an ordinary person's.

Going from absolute zero to participating in the Cicero Cup in Latin had taken him about a month.

His current goal for Ancient Greek didn't require reaching competition level; he only needed to reach the point where he could use a reference table to decipher encrypted text.

The threshold was a notch lower than Latin, but the language's inherent complexity was a notch higher. With the two offsetting each other, half a month would be more than enough.

He opened the first chapter, his eyes falling on the alphabet.

α, β, γ, δ... The twenty-four letters were arranged in two columns on the page, with pronunciation and stroke order annotated beside each.

His brain entered a familiar mode of absorption.

The shapes of the letters entered his retinas, and the memory enhancement of [Learning] carved the curves and turns of every stroke into his mind.

The phonetic rules echoed in his ears, automatically cross-referencing with the corresponding Latin phonemes in his head.

Differences were highlighted in red, commonalities in green. Within ten minutes, the entire alphabet went from completely unfamiliar to fundamentally recognized.

Very light footsteps drifted from the direction of the stairs.

They paused in the hallway for a moment before continuing to approach.

The gait was light, striking the floor with a small surface area—likely a girl's leather shoes.