"Alright."
Isabella opened the food container.
Inside was an assortment of dishes far more exquisite than the school cafeteria’s, clearly ordered specially from an outside restaurant.
She sat on the edge of the desk and poured herself half a glass of pomelo tea.
As she poured the tea, she finally managed to squeeze out a few words of comfort.
"Second place... that’s actually quite good."
Richard couldn’t help but smile. ’My aunt’s personality can be pretty endearing sometimes.’
"I know why I got second."
"Oh?" Isabella raised an eyebrow.
"In the assessment section, I was probably about the same as Montague, maybe even tied."
"I lost in the ’Comprehensive Quality Assessment’ category, under the ’Development Potential’ metric."
"Catherine fell short in the same category," he added. "And Edith, too."
Isabella speared a piece of roasted pork knuckle with her fork and chewed on it.
Richard glanced at his aunt.
"This ’Development Potential’ metric..."
"It wasn’t evaluating me as a person at all. It was evaluating how tall the tree behind me is."
Isabella set down her fork. "You see things quite clearly."
"Don’t let it get to you. We’ll make up for that category in other ways."
"What ways?" Richard’s eyes lit up.
Isabella began to explain the development plan she had laid out for her nephew.
"Once you’re in the Classics Department preparatory program, don’t just go through the motions and wait it out.
Go as fast as you can. Chew through those prep courses as early as possible. It’s best if you can graduate a year early."
"And after graduating early?"
"You don’t need another exam after the prep program; you’ll matriculate directly into the undergraduate program."
"Once you’re an undergraduate, whatever research resources I have that I can shift your way, I will."
"Auntie..."
"Don’t be in a hurry to thank me," Isabella said, waving her hand dismissively.
"Shifting what little I have to you isn’t against the rules, but it’s not much.
You’ll have to earn the rest yourself."
"During your undergraduate years," her tone slowed, "I want you to build a solid foundation. Don’t be in a rush to jump ahead."
"It would be best if you can reach the level of a ’Senior Practitioner’ before graduate school."
"And if I can’t?" Richard asked.
"If you can’t, it’s better to delay graduation than to force your way forward unprepared," Isabella answered decisively.
"Why?"
Isabella glanced at him.
"Because once you reach the graduate level, you’re considered semi-independent."
"The academy will start sending you out on field assignments."
"Normally, that’s fine." She frowned. "The usual field assignments aren’t life-threatening."
"But these aren’t normal times."
She picked up the glass of pomelo tea again, cradling it in her hands.
"In wartime, everything must be used to its fullest potential."
"If you’re sent out without that solid foundation..."
Richard understood. An insufficient foundation meant you wouldn’t come back.
"Sofia and Clara," Isabella said, suddenly changing the subject. "In a few days, I expect they’ll be sent out, too."
"On an independent field assignment?"
"Mhm."
As she spoke, Isabella glanced at the food container on the desk.
A big, fat cat had been drawn on it with a marker—a gift from Sofia.
"The two of them only crossed the Practitioner threshold a couple of years ago."
"According to the rules in previous years, they’d need to train under me for at least another two years before it would be their turn for independent work."
"This year is different."
"Auntie, try not to worry too much," Richard could only offer. "They’re both Practitioners."
"Practitioners," Isabella repeated, glancing at him. "Your uncle was a Practitioner at seventeen."
His uncle. The one his Mother had mentioned but never elaborated on.
Richard knew very little about him.
Isabella stroked the food container with the fat cat drawn on it.
"...Has your Mother ever told you? About your uncle."
"A little. She only said he took the path of a Hunter. Nothing more."
Isabella took a couple of sips of pomelo tea, her brow relaxing slightly.
"Your uncle was the eldest of our generation, almost ten years older than me."
"When he was thirteen, Father started making him train."
"He crossed the Practitioner threshold at seventeen, but he was still stuck before the gate of Minor Mastery all the way until he was thirty."
"And then what happened?" Richard asked.
"Then, he made a decision for himself," Isabella said. "He went to the New Continent."
Richard’s breathing slowed.
The New Continent.
The New Continent... from the newspaper headlines, where expeditionary forces went missing time and time again.
"So, is Uncle still..." Richard didn’t know if he should continue.
"He’s still alive," Isabella cut him off. "A letter came back a while ago."
Richard breathed a sigh of relief.
"There are plenty of Hunters who get stuck before Minor Mastery."
"Most people get stuck for life and just accept it, living out their days as stable Practitioners."
"My big brother wouldn’t accept it."
"He went to the New Continent to find an opportunity to break through to Minor Mastery."
"Grandfather let him go?" Richard asked.
"Father tried to stop him, of course," Isabella shook her head. "But he couldn’t."
"My big brother..." Her lips twitched, and it was hard to tell if it was a smile or something else.
"Just like his son, Vincent, he usually seemed carefree, laughing and joking with everyone.
But once he set his mind on something, no one could pull him back."
"Before he left, he said one thing to Father."
"What was it?"
Isabella said, perfectly imitating her big brother’s tone, "Rather than be stuck in the Old Continent for a lifetime, I’d rather go to the New Continent and gamble once."
"If I win the gamble, the Ashford Family will have one more person to hold up its name in this generation."
"If I lose, just consider it me scouting the path ahead for the family."
His aunt said no more.
They looked at each other in silence, slowly eating the rest of the food in the container.
"There’s one more thing."
Just as they finished eating and Richard was about to wash the dishes, Isabella suddenly remembered something.
"While I have the time today, I should make it clear to you."
"Okay."
"If a war really breaks out, you can submit an application to the Branch Office."
"An application for what?"
Isabella looked at him.
"Your parents are in Brighton. Someone will be assigned to arrange for their evacuation.
Through the Ashford Family’s connections, they’ll be given top priority for protection."
Richard’s movements, as he gathered the dishes, froze.
His aunt sighed softly.
"Honestly, the safest way would be to bring my sister’s entire family to the Imperial Capital."
"We have the Ashford Mansion here in the Imperial Capital, and there’s a proper Sealing Array beneath it. It’s much safer than an industrial city like Brighton."
Richard thought of his father, Rogers, and his stubborn personality.
"My dad won’t agree to it."
"What he values most in this life is self-reliance, and his job as an engineer."
"Making him live off handouts in the Ashford Mansion every day..." Richard shook his head. "He’d never be willing."
"During last year’s Cicero Cup, he stayed in the Imperial Capital for half a month."
"For that entire half-month, he was itching to leave. If the butler added an extra dish for him, he’d feel uncomfortable all over."
"He’d rather go back to Brighton and live his life with his blueprints and his salary."
Isabella wasn’t surprised.
"...My brother-in-law is indeed a tough nut to crack. That’s probably one of the things my sister liked about him back then."
"Yeah."
"Then we’ll arrange it according to the evacuation protocol for now."
"If it really comes to that, someone from the Branch Office will escort them to a safe zone."
"When it’s truly a life-or-death situation, my brother-in-law’s ’self-reliance’ will have to be put on hold."

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