Chapter 121: Reading Material
Ryan glanced at the valuable Blue Crystal Card, then lifted his eyes to Cecilia.
The girl’s posture had not changed. The golden thorn emblem at the collar of her academy uniform shimred under the lamplight, and her face still held that sa inscrutable calm.
Instead of taking the Blue Crystal Card, he extended a finger and gently pushed it back toward her.
“Keep this one with Your Highness for now,” Ryan said evenly. “Ten thousand gold coins is enough for the mont. If I truly need anything else, I’ll ask you for it.”
Cecilia froze slightly, then the corners of her lips lifted into a faint, genuinely softened smile.
It was as though a layer of thin ice had lted in her blue eyes. Ryan accepted the support she offered as an ally, yet he still kept a careful sense of proportion, unwilling to owe too much in the way of personal financial favor. That clear sense of distance made him seem even more reliable in her eyes.
“Very well.” She put the Blue Crystal Card away with a clean, decisive movent. “Any ti.”
After exchanging a few more brief pieces of information regarding preparations for the ruins, Cecilia rose to leave.
Ilis, who had stood quietly by the door the entire ti, stepped forward as though she had received a silent command and opened the door for her.
Cecilia reached the doorway, then paused.
She turned back to look.
Ryan was still seated by the table. The approaching dusk pouring through the window drew clean lines along his profile, while his gray-blue eyes were fixed on the gradually darkening horizon outside, as though he were lost in thought.
His thin shirt still clung faintly from the evening’s training, the fabric tracing the fluid lines of a young man’s shoulders and arms after exertion. Unexpectedly, it softened the atmosphere he usually maintained on purpose and revealed instead a kind of focused, restrained strength.
“Ryan,” she suddenly said, her voice very soft, like a feather drifting down, “do not take the matter of the north too heavily to heart. The board may be vast, but the pieces… do not always have to move as the player intends.”
After saying that, she did not linger any longer. With Ilis following like a silent shadow, she stepped into the deepening darkness of the corridor.
The door closed softly, shutting out the last trace of daylight. The dormitory fell completely silent, save for the scattered cries of birds returning to their nests outside.
Cosette quietly poked half her body out from the kitchen alcove. Her small face still carried the tension and faint confusion left behind from witnessing that earlier exchange.
She saw that her master remained seated motionless at the table, his fingers unconsciously rubbing again and again over the cold crystal set into the edge of that violet crystal card, his gaze empty and fixed sowhere ahead. He had not moved for a long ti.
Outside the window, the sky had fully sunk into ink-blue darkness.
There were only a few days left before departure for the Starfall Ruins.
Ryan felt that, by now, his preparations had more or less reached their limit.
A body could not transform from a strip of bamboo into an iron tower within half a month, but all the things Barton had cramd into him—every dirty close-combat trick, every little technique for dealing with different terrain, and every low-circle instant-cast spell application most suited to his current fighting style—had, through repeated sparring, been hamred into his muscle mory like nails.
Those small spells that required no long incantation, were not especially powerful, but were sufficiently tricky and fast—used to interrupt rhythm, create openings, and disrupt vision—combined with his steadily improving reactions and the support of his Magic Tools, were gradually forming a practical combat style that belonged solely to Ryan Velt.
In his heart, he was grateful to Barton, that rough-looking ntor whose teaching thods were rciless.
Beyond combat training, the rest of his ti was spent digesting the materials Cecilia had sent and soaking himself in the library.
The so-called information on the Starfall Ruins was in fact extrely limited. Public knowledge only vaguely pointed to an ancient hidden realm semi-isolated from the main plane, whose entrance was restricted by special temporal and spatial laws, allowing only the younger generation to enter.
What exactly was inside?
Where were the traces of the Elves hidden?
Were they the ruins of a lost city, or a labyrinth concealing so ancient treasury?
No one knew.
The exploration resembled a vast and dangerous field excavation more than anything else. It would require knowledge, luck, and preparation for dealing with rival explorers.
That afternoon, Ryan ca once more to the upper level of the academy library.
More books concerning ancient history, rare races, and mysticism were kept here. By virtue of his Exploration Permit Badge, he had gained temporary access.
Towering bookshelves stood like silent giants all the way to the limits of sight, while magical lamps overhead cast a soft, constant glow. Following the index, Ryan slowly searched along the ancient races—Elves section, his fingertips brushing over spine after spine, so thick, so thin.
Then he saw a back that looked sowhat familiar.
Soft pink hair flowed over slender shoulders. The figure wore a perfectly fitted black-and-white maid dress and was standing on tiptoe, trying to reach a large volu from one of the upper shelves.
It was Lano.
That maid who had indirectly provided a key clue during the Frost Crystal Explosion Incident.
Lano seed to sense his gaze as well. She turned around, and when she saw Ryan, those star-bright eyes widened slightly before settling into a perfectly asured expression of surprise and courtesy.
“Young Master Velt?” She lowered the book in her hands, turned fully, and gave a slight curtsy. “What a coincidence. You are looking for books here as well?”
“Yes.” Ryan nodded and walked a few steps closer. “Looking up so material.”
Lano’s gaze lingered on his face for a mont, and her smile deepened slightly. “It is for the ruins exploration in a few days, isn’t it? The whole academy has been talking about it. They say you and a few other students are going to represent the academy in sothing very important. That is quite impressive.”
Her tone was natural, without much deliberate flattery in it.
Ryan knew the matter was no longer secret. The academy had already officially announced the list to encourage the students, so he gave a simple hum in acknowledgnt.
“I heard that ruin is… no simple place,” Lano continued conversationally, absentmindedly twining a lock of pink hair around her finger. “And it seems to have so connection to the Elves?”
Ryan glanced at her.
The information regarding the Elven connection had not been broadly released throughout the academy. It was limited to the upper ranks and those who had obtained the qualification. The fact that Lano knew ant that the person she served truly held an extraordinary status.
He neither denied it nor pressed her. He rely gave another quiet hum.
Lano did not seem to mind his lack of words. Instead, she looked as though she had found a topic she genuinely liked, and her eyes brightened faintly.
“Elves…” she said. “The one I serve is also rather interested in that field and keeps a collection of related books. I help organize them from ti to ti, and occasionally I flip through them myself. The poetry and biographies they left behind are especially interesting. The Elves first carved their writing into bark and stone tablets, and only later onto parchnt. Their poems were passed down from generation to generation and then gradually deciphered and interpreted by later scholars. It feels almost like solving a riddle stretched across ages. Sotis the very sa word can carry subtly different anings in poems from different eras.”
As she spoke, there was more life in her expression than usual. She was clearly genuinely interested in the subject.
Sothing stirred in Ryan’s mind.
Poetry… as a vessel of inheritance?
Perhaps there were fragnts hidden in it—fragnts of Elven customs, values, or even veiled traces of history that would never appear in formal historical records.
“Is that so?” he said. “Do you have any… recomnded reading?”
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