The "Available Points" column was in the upper-right corner of the panel, its number utterly still.
Richard flipped the coin over a few times with a ruler, then held his right hand suspended above it, less than half an inch away, for a full minute.
The number remained unchanged.
’Even if something is sealed tight, there’s usually some leakage, enough for the panel to absorb a trace amount of Points.’
’But this clay coin has nothing. It’s just a recently man-made craft.’
Richard stroked his chin. The fact that they hadn’t delivered the object directly to his home lessened his wariness.
From a purely rational standpoint, however, they likely knew that the invitees came from extraordinary backgrounds.
Many of the invitees’ families would have powerful Seals and protections in place.
Therefore, they had deliberately chosen a location with weaker defenses, but where the target would regularly appear.
’This organization is, at the very least, tactically sophisticated.’
Richard gently wrapped the clay coin in oiled paper, taking care not to touch the object itself.
He stood by a window in the second-floor hallway for a moment, watching the younger students run laps on the field outside.
Soon, he arrived at the school’s public telephone room.
The phone rang three times before the butler answered.
"This is Ashford Mansion."
"This is Richard Williams." He lowered his voice. "Please put my grandfather on the line. It’s urgent."
"Young Master, please wait a moment."
Richard could hear the butler’s trotting footsteps fading away through the receiver, soon replaced by another set approaching.
"What is it?"
Gerald’s voice was the same as it had been on their two previous calls—no preamble, no pleasantries.
Richard recounted the events in the storage room in their entirety.
He described how the moth had appeared from thin air and disintegrated, the pattern on the clay coin it left behind, the contents of the letter, the Latin maxim at the end, and all of his own preliminary conclusions.
He omitted no detail.
After Richard finished, the other end of the line went silent for about ten seconds.
"Where is the clay coin now?"
"Still in the storage room. I haven’t touched it. I’ve only handled it with a ruler or through the oiled paper."
"Very good," Gerald said approvingly. "You’re calmer than I gave you credit for."
Richard didn’t respond to the compliment.
"Grandfather, I have a theory I’d like to confirm with you."
"Go on."
"I don’t think I was the only one they contacted.
The recipients are likely a specific sample group—Cicero Cup winners, perhaps, or other teenagers who have publicly demonstrated their talents in recent months."
"They’re screening resumes. They’re not just looking at the abilities of the recipients, but also, perhaps, the reactions of the families behind them."
The other end of the line went quiet again for a moment.
"Richard."
"Yes."
"You’ve made a correct assessment."
"Regarding this matter, the direction of your analysis is essentially correct.
They’re screening resumes, but what they’re really screening is the backing."
Gerald’s speech was slower than usual.
"But I must tell you something first, so you don’t make the wrong assumptions going forward."
"What is it?"
"In this matter, the Strength the Ashford Family can offer you is less than you might imagine."
Richard frowned under the dim yellow light.
"How much less?"
"So much less that after taking your call here in the Imperial Capital, the first thing I can do is *not* send people down to you."
Gerald said, "Based on the distance, for our family to get a Minor Mastery of the Secret Direction from the Imperial Capital to Brighton, it would take until tomorrow at the earliest."
"Tomorrow?" Richard had a bad feeling about this.
Gerald continued.
"I know you probably think Ashford Mansion looks quite impressive from the outside.
In our family’s most glorious era, our ancestors had three Grand Masteries at the same time. Even our branch families started with those of Minor Mastery."
"But that was before your great-grandfather’s time."
Once he started explaining, he held nothing back.
"My father’s generation marked the beginning of our decline. The family suffered several accidents, and my own younger brother died an untimely death as a result.
By the time of your Mother’s generation, those of us who could hold our own amounted to one and a half, including myself.
The other half is your aunt, Isabella. She follows the path of a Scholar and doesn’t do fieldwork."
Richard listened as a cold draft blew through the phone booth.
"I’m not trying to burden you with our troubles," Gerald said.
"I’m telling you that the protection the Ashford Family can provide you right now is limited."
"Since they were able to use a Spirit Realm Messenger to enter a space you frequent, it means you could already be under their constant surveillance.
Just locking away the clay coin isn’t enough. You need someone sufficiently powerful to guard you at all times."
"And that is something the Ashford Family cannot do."
The old man spoke very slowly, and Richard could sense the unspoken apology in his words.
"Among the high nobility of the Imperial Capital, you have families like the Montagues and the Greshams, who have ties to the Royal Family.
Each of them has their own Sealing Array, exclusive Secret consultants, and combatants of Minor Mastery they can deploy at a moment’s notice."
Gerald continued to explain.
"If one of their children runs into something like this, they just have to ring a bell, and someone will be on the scene within half an hour."
"Those families have had Experts in their lineages, and each generation is guaranteed to have several living Grand Masteries.
They are deeply entrenched in the Royal Family and official systems, leveraging power from one another."
"We are not like them."
"For the last few decades, I’ve been single-handedly propping up the Ashford Family."
Hearing this, Richard felt his throat tighten. He said nothing.
"So..." Gerald didn’t delay his conclusion.
"I suggest you handle this matter in the following way."
"Give the clay coin and the letter to your Guide.

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