Chapter 192: The Price of Knowledge

"This is no ordinary favor, Rayan."

’As I expected, it won’t be that easy,’ Ravian thought.

Earl Patrick continued.

"The Academy guards its archive more carefully than many noble families guard their treasuries. The public floors are one matter, but the restricted sections contain research, refinement methods, political histories, and records that certain families would prefer never to see leave those shelves," Earl Patrick said as he drew out his pipe and lit it. "None of that makes obtaining permission remotely easy."

Ravian leaned forward in turn and rested one hand against the edge of the desk, looking at the Earl as if to ask who, exactly, he thought he was fooling.

"Which is why I’m asking you," Ravian said.

Patrick stared at him from behind the desk, and Ravian calmly held his gaze.

"I’ll use one of the two requests you owe me."

Larette’s eyes widened slightly as she turned toward him.

Patrick’s expression became unreadable, then the crafty smile of an old fox crept across his face.

"You intend to spend one of those requests merely to enter a library?" Earl Patrick asked, though his tone did not sound nearly as disapproving as the question suggested.

"Not merely a library, but the greatest concentration of human knowledge concerning soul power in recorded history," Ravian corrected, echoing the Earl’s own description of the archive.

"You could save that request for something far more difficult to obtain," the Earl reminded him.

"I know, my lord, but this is what I want," Ravian replied with calm firmness.

Patrick tapped one finger against the desk.

"Think carefully before you answer again. Once I use my connections and treat this as one of your formal requests, you will have only one remaining."

"I’ve already thought it through."

Ravian needed no more time.

To an ordinary person, access to the Academy’s archive might provide years’ worth of education, provided they possessed the patience and talent necessary to understand what they read.

To Ravian, however, it was something else entirely.

A library was time compressed into paper—the accumulated attempts, failures, successes, and understanding of people who had spent entire lifetimes pursuing knowledge whose very existence Ravian had discovered only recently. There was no one in this world better suited to extract its value than he was.

Could there possibly be anyone better suited than him?

Absolute Focus would not grant him knowledge he had never encountered, but once that knowledge was placed before him, he could organize, compare, analyze, and retain it with a degree of precision few minds could even approach.

He had no intention of allowing such an opportunity to pass him by.

’If that archive truly contains what he claims, I won’t leave before absorbing everything my available time allows.’

Patrick watched the determination within Ravian’s eyes, then released a quiet breath.

"Very well."

Larette turned toward her father.

"You’re agreeing? Wouldn’t it be better for him to enroll in the Academy with me?"

"I cannot force him to enroll, and I said I would fulfill two requests. This one lies within my ability," Patrick replied. "It will force me to inconvenience several people who greatly dislike being inconvenienced, but that is still preferable to some of the impossible things he could have demanded."

Ravian smiled faintly.

"Then we’re agreed."

"One of your requests will be considered fulfilled the moment the Academy accepts my authorization and grants you permission to enter," Patrick said. "You will have one remaining afterward."

"Agreed."

Patrick drew a blank sheet of heavy paper toward himself.

"I’ll send you with Shmichael. He knows the Academy’s administrative entrance and the people responsible for receiving private authorizations. A sealed letter bearing my name should be sufficient to have the archive’s restrictions lifted for you, but he will remain with you until the authorization is confirmed."

"All right. When do we leave?" Ravian asked, eager to dive into that ocean of knowledge and absorb everything it contained.

Patrick dipped his pen into the ink, but before he began writing, his gaze returned to Ravian.

"There is another matter."

Ravian glanced toward the three sealed folders beside the Earl’s hand and read the heading on the topmost one.

"The investors?" Ravian asked.

"Exactly."

Patrick rested his hand upon the folders.

"Two investors from the capital have agreed to participate in the project: one man and one woman, each belonging to one of the oldest and most distinguished families in the Empire."

Larette straightened slightly in her chair, while Ravian’s eyes settled upon the seals.

"What percentage of the project do they want?"

"Their participation will come from House Viola’s share. Your twenty-five percent will remain untouched, as will the authority and safety provisions we agreed upon."

"Then I have no objection."

Ravian did not particularly care about the other partners as long as his share remained secure.

He had also known from the beginning that the project could not be completed without a powerful partner alongside Earl Patrick, one capable of keeping the many circling hyenas at bay.

"You may object after meeting them," Patrick said dryly. "People from families that old rarely invest their money without attempting to purchase influence along with it."

"I don’t think so," Ravian said. "I believe everything will go smoothly."

A faint smile touched the Earl’s lips.

"That is why you need to return before nightfall. Both of them will come here to sign the final investment documents. Your signature is required because the project, its technical designs, and its safety provisions all originated with you."

"I’ll return in time," Ravian assured him.

"That isn’t all. My engineers have studied the preliminary plans, but plans alone will not enable them to construct a complete network for water supply, sewage disposal, canals, and purification."

Patrick drew another stack of papers from one side of his desk.

"They understand the project’s purpose, but they do not yet understand how every part is meant to function together. You will explain the complete system to them—the water-flow gradients, purification stages, separation of drinking water from waste channels, pressure control, maintenance access, and every other detail they require to avoid turning your design into an expensive disaster."

Ravian looked over the papers without touching them.

"How many engineers?"

"Six senior engineers, accompanied by several assistants. Tonight, you will begin with the fundamental principles and distribute the work among them, after which we can arrange further sessions according to what remains to be covered."

"That won’t be a problem."

Patrick raised an eyebrow.

"They are among the best engineers available to my house."

"Then there will be no problem."

"Good. You will return before sunset, sign the contracts, and begin explaining the complete design to them."

"I agreed to ensure this project succeeds," Ravian said. "Teaching the people who will build it is part of that."

Patrick nodded once, apparently satisfied.

He rang the small bell upon his desk, and a servant entered moments later and bowed respectfully to the Earl.

"Find Shmichael," Patrick ordered. "Tell him to prepare a carriage and come here immediately. Rayan will be visiting the Supreme Soul Academy as my authorized guest."

The servant bowed again without uttering a word and departed.

Patrick finally put pen to paper.

"I’ll need several minutes to write the authorization and send advance notice to the Academy. You may wait here."

Ravian settled back into his chair.

Larette looked at him from the side, still seemingly unable to decide whether spending one of his two priceless requests on access to a library was sheer genius or simple rashness.

Ravian did not care which conclusion she reached. In his mind, the request had already begun repaying its value.

Patrick’s pen moved steadily across the page, every line carrying enough political weight to open doors that might otherwise have remained closed to Ravian for who knew how long.

Several minutes later, footsteps approached the office.

Then someone knocked upon the door.