Chapter 210 - 179: Truth is Arduous, yet Lovely

While he was packing up, Isabella took a small notebook from her coat pocket and flipped to a new page.

"By the way, Richard."

"Yes?"

"About that list of resources you just mentioned."

She picked up her pencil and began to take notes.

"For the Double Overwrite materials... do you need exercises, or are you looking for reference samples?"

"I’ll need both."

"In that case, I’ll have someone send you a set of exercises from the Imperial University’s preparatory program.

As for the reference samples, I’ll pick out a few from the library with varying levels of difficulty."

"Will that be enough?"

"It will be."

"Gaelic Ancient Script," she continued writing. "How much of it do you know?"

"I’ve only just started memorizing the dictionary..."

"In that case, I’ll just send you a copy of *Gaelic Ancient Language Structure and Transformation*.

Professor Macphie compiled it twenty years ago. It’s the required textbook for the Imperial City Classics Department."

"Professor Macphie?"

"Yes. He’s also from a Hunter Clan in the Gael Highlands. He researches the Ancient Celtic Inscription System and is a leading authority in the field."

She went back to writing on her notepad.

"Medieval Church ceremonial Latin... This one’s a bit more complicated.

The Church doesn’t share its own texts, but there are a few annotated versions within the academic system. I’ll have someone pick out two that are suitable for Newcomers and send them to you."

"And... the extended comparison chart for the later variants of the Alexandrian School."

She made a small checkmark on the page. "This one, I’ll go to the Imperial University Library and copy it for you myself."

"You’re going to copy it yourself?"

"Only lecturers and higher-ranking faculty can check out the extended comparison chart."

"It’s nothing," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "I have to copy plenty of things from the library every year anyway."

Richard watched the lines of text she’d written in her small notebook.

’Document delivery, exclusive borrowing privileges, student assistants to run errands... For his aunt, these were all just a part of her daily routine.

But for him, it would be years before he could even come close to accessing any of them.

Have to admit, being an associate professor with a bunch of students you can order around to do grunt work must feel pretty great.’

Isabella slipped the small notebook back into her coat pocket.

Outside, the snow was falling thicker and faster.

"The snow’s getting a little heavy. You should wait for it to let up before you head back."

"In that case, Aunt Isabella, may I ask you a few more questions?"

Richard thought about it. ’Since I’m waiting anyway, and who knows when I’ll see Isabella again...’

’...it would be a waste not to take advantage of having an associate professor right here who I can ask anything.’

Isabella put down the teapot.

"The number of questions you’ve wanted to ask tonight is already a month’s worth for Sofia."

"But I happen to have some free time. What else did you want to ask?"

Richard pushed the copied sheet over.

"I’ve deciphered the first two lines as ’Singer Unto the Night’ and ’Silent Greeter of the Light.’"

Isabella considered this for a moment.

"The third line here translates to: ’He who is without the Gate, and he who is within.’"

"So, the first three lines of the second set, read together, are: ’Singer Unto the Night,’ ’Silent Greeter of the Light,’ and ’He who is without the Gate, and he who is within.’"

"This is the bidirectional declaration of the Boundary Stone Array. It welcomes those who come from the other side of the Curtain and sees off those who depart from this one."

For the next hour, Richard handed her the twelve sets of inscriptions, one after another.

With each set they discussed, Isabella would jot down corresponding notes and guiding lines of thought on her own sheet of paper.

She didn’t replace Richard’s own thought process, but simply pointed out potentially better paths of inquiry.

All her additions and corrections were written on her own paper in minuscule script.

When they reached the seventh set, she stopped.

"Water."

Richard took the hint and went to the outer room to get her some water.

When he returned, Isabella was massaging her temples.

Richard handed the cup over.

"Thank you for your time."

"It’s nothing."

She took the cup and had a sip.

"Let’s stop with the Boundary Stone Array for now." She picked up her pen again.

"Is there anything else you need my help with?"

Richard pulled the copy of the Bronze Plate inscription from a pile of Rubbing Copies.

Isabella took the copy.

"Bone of oak, cloak of mist; pact of blood, answer of water."

"A typical Druidic ritual phrase."

She tore off a small slip of paper and wrote a few lines.

"I’ll make a list of books for you. You can look for them and read them when you get back."

After writing down a few titles, Isabella held the slip of paper and studied it for a moment.

Then she pulled a full sheet of paper from the other side of the desk and started over.

Richard sat opposite and waited.

By the time she started on the second column, he realized something was off.

"Aunt Isabella?"

Isabella didn’t answer. The only sound was the SCRATCH SCRATCH of her fountain pen on the paper.

"...How much longer are you going to be?"

"Just drink your tea and wait a bit."

Richard picked up his teacup again.

The tea had gone completely cold, but he drank it sip after sip.

The scratching of the pen continued for several more minutes.

Richard shifted his gaze to the paper. Densely packed titles already filled more than half the page.

Isabella finally put down her pen.

"Alright."

Richard reached out and took the paper.

"Thirty-six books in total. It’s not that many."

Isabella pointed to the booklist she’d made.

"During my university days, my required reading was about ten books in a single semester."

"There’s no rush. You can start with the materials I’ll be organizing for you in the next few days. These thirty-six books are for you to study after you’ve been accepted into the preparatory program.

At your current pace, thirty-six books will barely be enough for the two-year program."

"Look at this column." She stood up and boxed in the first column with her pencil.

"This column covers the fundamentals of Epigraphy."

"These are just the basics?"

"The basics," she repeated, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Epigraphy is the skeleton. If you don’t build a solid frame, it doesn’t matter how much muscle you try to pack on later; it won’t hold up.

If you don’t master this, you won’t be able to deconstruct Techniques or deliver a Judgment on Evil Beings in the future."

She pointed to the second column.

"The second column is annotated texts on various rituals in Mysticism. You just need a general understanding of them."

"The third column is all critical academic studies of the Abyss Tradition."

Richard’s focus sharpened.

"’Critical studies,’" Isabella stressed.

"All Guides will warn you not to touch the Abyss Tradition. That applies to the level of ’practical application.’

But on an academic level, studying the Abyss Tradition is unavoidable for anyone pursuing the path of a Scholar.

We must know what it is, so we can recognize it when we encounter it.

This column is about ’recognition,’ which is different from ’practice.’"

"...I can tell the difference."

"As for the fourth column."

Isabella’s pen tapped the heading of the fourth column.

"Of the seven books here, six are introductions to the major traditions and various case studies. The first five each cover a major tradition, the sixth covers the minor ones, and the last one..."

He followed her pen and looked.

Written in the space for the fifth book of the fourth column was a line of text.

The Influence of Later Variants of the Alexandrian School on the Sealing Art of the Western Continent

Author: Isabella Ashford, New Calendar 1904

Richard had a pretty good idea.

"Aunt Isabella, is this your... master’s thesis?" he asked, estimating the time frame.

"It’s actually my doctoral dissertation. It was published nearly ten years ago."

Isabella took a sip of her tea. "It caused a bit of a stir in academic circles at the time."

Richard took the cue.

"Is it still being cited?"

"According to last year’s count, it’s been cited one hundred and twenty-seven times by various academic journals in the last five years."

The corners of Isabella’s mouth lifted slightly, and her speech quickened a little.

"During my defense, my Mentor said it was ’one of the most solid doctoral dissertations to come out of the Classics Department in the last ten years.’"

"One of the most solid?"

"...It was ’the most solid.’"

Isabella cut out the "one of."

"There was no ’one of’ back then."

Richard nodded seriously.

"I’ll be sure to read this one carefully."

Then he asked a question he’d been holding back for a long time.

"So, Aunt Isabella, when did you start down this path?"

Isabella put the teacup back on its saucer.

"When I was sixteen, your grandfather left me at the gates of the Imperial University Classics Department’s preparatory program."

"After I finished the two-year preparatory program, it was on to my undergraduate and graduate studies."

"Those years as a student build your foundation."

"After finishing my graduate studies, I chose to stay on at the university as my Mentor’s teaching assistant.

A TA’s work is grading homework for undergraduates and graduates, marking papers, and sitting in the back of the classroom watching their Mentor lecture."

"Sitting in the back of the classroom watching your Mentor lecture?"

"Yes. For three straight years."

There was no trace of grievance in her eyes, only a hint of nostalgia.

"In those three years, I listened to every single one of my Mentor’s lectures countless times.

First, I’d listen to the content, and how he delivered it. Then I’d think about how I would teach it if it were me."

"After three years, I could teach the same class better than he could."

"Better?"

"At least, I considered it better."

Isabella picked up her teacup.

"But academia is all about seniority. I was a TA back then, and he was an associate professor. No matter how much better I could teach, I could only keep sitting in the back of the classroom."

She took a sip of tea.

"My time as a lecturer lasted for several more years."

"A lecturer’s job is to teach the fringe courses no one else wants.

Things like ’An Introduction to Ancient Celtic Sealing Art,’ ’Case Studies in Pre-Roman Sacrificial Rites,’ and ’A Collation of Early Alexandrian School Texts.’"

"And when were you promoted to associate professor?"

"In my early thirties. I don’t remember the specific year."

’She’s being deliberately vague about the year,’ Richard thought.

"Aunt Isabella, you’re currently..."

"Drink your tea."

Isabella shot her nephew a look and pushed the freshly refilled cup toward him. "Before it gets cold."

Richard obediently picked up the teacup.

He took a sip, understanding that the topic was closed.

Isabella glanced at the ink bottle on the desk.

The Latin motto carved on the side of the bottle shimmered slightly under the light.

"’Truth is arduous, yet lovely.’ This is the phrase I truly want to give you."

"The Latin word *amabilis* literally means ’worthy of being loved.’"

"Truth itself is cold, hard, and difficult. It can cause a young person to pour their entire youth into a sea of books and never emerge."

Isabella’s tone was a little self-deprecating.

"But she is worthy of being loved."

"Anyone who can endure the long, thankless hours will eventually understand that."