Chapter 96: Act 32 – The Scholar
As soon as Brendel stepped into Turiman’s room, he first noticed a scattered mess of manuscripts on the shiny black pine floor. He turned his head to the left and saw a thick book placed on a wooden platform—there’s nothing impressive about the invention of paper in this world, as writing on rough pages typically requires significant effort, with people using wooden frames covered in cowhide to secure them. Thus, transporting books is both time-consuming and labor-intensive, and they can be easily damaged.
Although the kingdom has noble libraries and a royal academy, they mainly serve as places for merchants, minor nobles, and the offspring of landowners to receive an education. Even in wealthy countries, average citizens prefer to send their children to various workshops as apprentices.
Brendel quickly noticed the content of the book; quite fortuitously, Turiman was studying ancient languages. He couldn’t help but glance at the scattered manuscripts on the ground, which appeared to be researching the evolution of the Highlands languages (the Cruzian language family), and from the records on the manuscripts, it seemed that some results had already been achieved.
In this era, most people cannot understand these manuscripts. Even someone as knowledgeable as Balthom would typically consider them to be mere waste paper, while Freya would at most think of them as illegible scribbles.
And the sound of pages turning inside finally stopped—
“Youth, where did you discover this language?” After searching through a series of related texts, Turiman finally identified a language from a rare language family that had a phonetic and structural similarity to the single word that Brendel had mentioned.
The Kiarang language.
The Kiarang people were the weakest among the five ancient Cruzian tribes, but this was enough to corroborate some truths in Brendel’s words, raising the question of whether the ancestors of the Cruz had indeed recorded history.
Though Turiman always suspected that modern Cruz people were not actually descendants of the ancient Cruz, he couldn’t explain how the Fire King Gilt truly exhibited distinctive features of the ancient Cruz.
Brendel smiled but did not respond.
Turiman adjusted his glasses and came out of the inner room holding a thick book. He sat in a wicker chair by a window opposite Brendel, looking up at the four of them; then he opened a side bookcase, took out a pipe from a drawer on the second shelf, tapped it on the table, and a flame instantly burst forth, followed by rising smoke.
Turiman placed the pipe in his mouth, took a puff, and exhaled smoke through his nose. He then spoke, “You’re silent; it seems you have something you desire. Speak your request, young man. I must say you’ve succeeded halfway; you’ve piqued the curiosity of this old man—”
He took the pipe out of his mouth and pointed it at Brendel, saying, “But you haven’t won yet, young man. Though I’m old, I’m not senile. What do you expect to get from me using just a single word? You better bring something useful to the table.”
The old man’s words stunned Balthom and Freya, who then realized that Brendel was actually making a trade with the other party. However, the nature of the wizard’s trade seemed a bit obscure to them, and they still didn’t know what the old man and the young man were really after.
Romaine, on the other hand, seemed intrigued; she appreciated Brendel’s composed demeanor and instinctively sensed that despite the strange old man’s hard exterior, he was actually softening.
“I am a Highland knight. I need someone to introduce me into scholarly circles. My guide sent me here to tell me how to proceed, thus, Lord Turiman, that’s how things stand.” Brendel decided to maintain this facade, for in a sense he was not lying.
The guide was a mentor to a Highland knight’s apprentice, and under Highland laws, he had the responsibility to guide the knight’s growth. Saying this would raise no suspicion, and it could make Turiman wary. He knew Turiman was acquainted with many Black Tower wizards.
Turiman rested one hand on the armrest of the wicker chair, chewed on his pipe, and fell into thought. He pondered which old buddy had set him up this time; although he wasn’t a powerful wizard, he was a seasoned scholar and a great alchemist, well-known in the wizarding world. His friends and enemies spanned across Vaunte, making it difficult for him to recall who was joking with him this time.
However, he thought about it and concluded that introducing a newcomer into scholarly circles wasn’t a big deal; Brendel’s performance wouldn’t make him lose face.
Thus, Turiman took a puff of smoke, suddenly took out a piece of parchment from the drawer, placed it on the book’s cover, and began to write something with a feather quill. Then he folded the paper and placed it in an envelope, sealed it with wax, and stamped it.
He picked up the envelope and looked up, asking, “I’ll recommend you to learn for a while at Sir Pannosun’s place, and you’ll understand how we do things. Sir Pannosun, while being a rather rigid person, is a good teacher. What do you think?”
“Perfect,” Brendel replied. However, he thought to himself that this was just a standard procedure; did he really go through all this effort just to save a few hundred Torls in registration fees?
Of course not.
He decided to push a little harder, so he stepped forward, pinching the envelope with his middle and index fingers, and replied, “Lord Turiman, regarding that single word from before. I must say I am researching an ancient language of the Cruz, and I have made a small discovery: some locals living on the Baltar Plateau seem to still retain primitive customs; their wizards hold onto some ancient words passed down, preserving the most original aspects of the ancient Cruz language—”
Brendel spoke half-truths. The indigenous people of the Baltar Plateau did exist, and the series of discoveries indeed began from that desolate area. However, the first stone tablet surfaced in another location.
To be honest, the stone tablets were of little practical use to Brendel, and he did not wish for this world to prematurely enter an era of chaotic wars.
Turiman’s eyes brightened, and the light and flicker from his pipe indicated his growing interest.
“You are studying the ancient languages of the Cruz?” he asked, looking suspiciously at the young man. “Tell me, what further insights do you have?”
“I presume Lord Turiman has already discovered that ancient languages are imbued with magic. Hence the saying that words and language are the root of all magic; yet the Age of Chaos is a watershed; since the ancient Cruz people, the magical essence of written words has gradually declined…” Brendel thought for a moment, drawing from some background he had seen on forums. His foresight in timing allowed him to understand some core contexts better than this scholar.
Turiman nodded, revealing an expression of acknowledgment.
“The cause and effect must relate to the prolonged wars?” he replied.
“Prolonged wars, interesting,” the old man said, turning back to fetch a ring from a drawer, placing it on top of the envelope, and answering, “You might want to first check Sir Pannosun’s private collection; if you have any new ideas, you can return to find me with this ring—”
There was a way in, Brendel felt a rush of brightness in his heart. He didn’t know if anyone had reached this step before him, but surely every step thereafter would not be simple. At least it was a good start, making him feel a surge of joy.
However, Turiman didn’t completely trust him. This delaying tactic was quite unique. Brendel knew this old man would probably set off immediately to the Baltar Plateau, but whether he gained anything would remain uncertain.
Thinking this, he took the envelope and the ring. A line of eerie green text immediately appeared on his retina—like a series of floating questions forming in his field of vision:
Do you accept the position of ‘Scholar’?
Brendel of course chose to accept. Thus, a new subsection ‘Secondary Profession’ immediately appeared in his attribute panel, where ‘Scholar’ lay quietly, with experience at level 0/6, and below it was only a small line of text marked ‘(Historical Knowledge Level 1)’.
In Amber Sword, the secondary profession complements the primary profession. Unlike the main profession, secondary professions generally enhance a character from the side, thus they do not provide potent skills or attribute bonuses but grant some special abilities.
One could say a secondary profession is more akin to an identity yet also allows for upgrades.
For instance, with the Scholar profession, whenever a character studies knowledge to level 5 or higher, they can unlock a corresponding ‘Familiar Profession’; when they assume this profession, the experience penalty is not counted toward the total for secondary professions. This continues until they possess three ‘Familiar Professions’. Additionally, each level of Scholar provides three times the skill experience of a militiaman, which is why players in the game referred to it as a ‘necessary secondary profession’.
The Silver Fortress Scholar is even stronger, having four Familiar Professions, and considers alchemy their main occupation, effectively combining the Scholar and Alchemist secondary professions.
Of course, secondary professions share the experience penalties among themselves, but they do not affect the main profession.
As soon as Brendel assumed the position, he immediately invested 220 points of experience to raise Scholar to level 6, gaining 250 points of skill experience. The ratio of experience to skill experience for the first six levels of the Scholar secondary profession is as high as 1.1, making it the most formidable among all professions. However, there was a bit of trouble with having a secondary profession; the profession level could not exceed the skill level of 5.
Brendel needed knowledge of nobility or heraldry instead of historical knowledge, so he would have to put the Scholar’s level at 6 on hold for now.
Finishing his own matters felt like just a momentary distraction. He raised his head and asked, “Lord Turiman, I have a friend, and you’ve seen her. You know her aunt, but she has been separated from her aunt. We are looking for her; have you seen Romaine’s aunt?”
Turiman tapped the pipe on the table, adjusted his eyeglasses, and replied, “Young man, I only know her aunt. We haven’t seen each other for about ten years; when I saw that girl, she was as small as this young lady here. In fact, I didn’t even know she lived around here—”
He saw that Brendel was about to speak again and waved his hand, “You need not ask more; every wizard has their secrets. Since she hasn’t told you, I shall not say any more.”
The old man blew out a puff of smoke through his nose, “Well, our conversation is about done. Young man, you’ve achieved your goal; when you believe you have some understanding of your current path, come back to find me.”
Brendel was taken aback and turned to look at Romaine.
The Merchant Miss smiled sweetly at him, “It’s alright, Brendel; my aunt is the strongest.”
You guy. Brendel glared at her, but his heart softened.
…
(PS. Network renovation, outage underway. Unsure how many days it will take, feeling sentimental.
Typing in a net café, it feels rather unpleasant.) (To be continued, for more chapters and support the author, please log in, support genuine reading!)
