Amateur Naturalist

That day, Merkel came to the smithy as usual. The only difference was that this time, someone else was with him.

"This is my friend, Victor Bryan."

Victor was clearly dissatisfied with the introduction and shot Merkel a glare. Only then did the latter reluctantly add, "A naturalist."

The naturalist was tall and skinny. His gray robe was so filthy that it was hard to tell what color it had originally been. A mass of fluffy curls was piled haphazardly atop his large head, making him look like a broom stuck upside down in the ground. The sight gave Richard a mistaken impression: perhaps "naturalist" was some kind of respectful term for beggars.

In fact, strictly speaking, Mr. Victor was merely a natural history enthusiast. None of the bullshit papers he had sent to the Continental Society of Natural History—"bullshit papers" being the society director's exact words—had ever been accepted by its publications. Yet such a minor setback could not stop his relentless pursuit of truth.

"This minor setback cannot stop my relentless pursuit of truth!" Whenever he received a rejection letter, he would shout this famous line before throwing himself wholeheartedly into writing his next bullshit paper. The leadership and staff of Tress Magic Academy had quite a few complaints about his neglect of proper duties. That was right—Mr. Victor was a Mage, and a professor at Tress Magic Academy.

"Where's the sword? Where's the sword?" Victor was obviously impatient. Before Merkel could finish introducing the three men, he was already clamoring to see the sword.

Merkel had long grown used to his ways. He gave Donald a helpless look, then said to Richard, "Richard, could you lend your sword to Mr. Victor for a look?"

Richard looked at his brother. Donald gave him an affirmative nod, so Richard untied the sword from his waist and handed it, sheath and all, to Victor.

Victor took it, drew the blade, then found a spot with better lighting and examined it closely. There was no fluctuation of Magic Elements. He had never seen the patterns before, but they definitely were not a Magic Array; the lines did not conform to the basic principles of drawing one. Nor did they resemble Gnome or Dwarf totems.

He cautiously began, "Merkel, you were right. These patterns are the key to the problem." As he spoke, he glanced sideways at Donald. Seeing no change in Donald's expression, he silently breathed a sigh of relief and continued, "These patterns were carved with a Fine Steel engraving knife..." He deliberately dragged out the last word, but when he caught Donald suppressing a smile from the corner of his eye, he immediately changed his tune. "...weren't they? Obviously not!"

Merkel felt his old face might already have turned red. He had not expected his old friend's only improvement after all these years to be an even thicker skin.

Victor touched the patterns on the sword and tried extending his Spiritual Power. Strange. The patterns ran deep into the blade itself, intertwined and tangled together. They were made from the same material, yet were also subtly different.

"Amazing. These patterns actually extend into the body of the sword." This time, what he saw from the corner of his eye was Donald's surprised expression.

Donald did not know he was a Mage. He had not expected Victor to be able to project his Spiritual Power for sensing, and thought he had figured it out through observation alone. If that were the case, Victor might not be far from the answer.

"All right, problem solved." Victor said smugly, "Different materials with differing properties are intertwined and layered within this sword, making it both hard and resilient. What an interesting structure!"

"Can you tell how it was forged?" Merkel asked.

"Forged? Oh, Merkel, Merkel, I think you've misunderstood. You must understand that we naturalists are only responsible for observing and explaining the essence of things. As for how it was forged, that is merely a small matter of engineering. Old friend, it seems you have been too heavily influenced by those overmuscled northerners. I really ought to explain the profundity and greatness of natural history to you more often."

"But didn't you come here because you wanted to uncover the mystery of how this sword was forged?"

"That was because I thought you had discovered a new Magic Array here. I have a feeling you deliberately misled me. How could I possibly be interested in sword forging? Do you take me for one of those dwarves from the Filthy Land?"

Although Donald did not know who the dwarves of the Filthy Land were, that did not sound like a compliment. But since everyone treated him as mute, he could only suppress his curiosity.

"Sir?" Richard's voice broke in.

Only then did Victor realize that his words had been somewhat disrespectful toward the three of them. Embarrassed, he said, "Oh, I'm sorry. Please don't misunderstand. I have nothing but respect for craftsmen. I was talking about those greedy dwarves..."

The naturalist lowered his head to look at Richard, then suddenly realized that his remarks about dwarves could easily cause another misunderstanding. His expression turned a little awkward.

"Sir, may I ask what a naturalist is?"

The moment Richard asked the question, Merkel's expression fell. Donald noticed it and vaguely sensed what was about to happen.

"Haha, child, your name is... Richard, right?" Victor looked at Richard as though a dragon had discovered treasure. Donald almost imagined drool about to spill from the man's mouth. That had to be an illusion.

"Natural history is the greatest thing in the world. It is how we understand the world, and it is also an attitude toward seeking the essence of the world..."

Shaking his head, Merkel walked to his familiar seat and slumped down. Donald thought, Does it really have to be this dramatic?

It was not dramatic at all.

At Tris Magic Academy, everyone knew that when Professor Victor began talking about natural history, the first thing you should do was slip away as fast as possible. Otherwise, the next half-day of your life would be spent suffering through nightmare-like incantations. For someone like Richard to voluntarily ask him about it was practically martyrdom by feeding himself to a wolf.

"Child, you already possess the most important quality of a naturalist: curiosity..." Then he shot Merkel a contemptuous look, and Merkel rolled his eyes at him.

"Natural history is simply too vast. Even if I had more time, I could never explain it all... But... I can introduce you to my latest field of study: Graphics..." Victor seemed to have forgotten that he was speaking to the fourteen-year-old son of a Country Blacksmith. Well, it had been far too long since he had found an audience.

When Donald woke from his nap, he saw both Mr. Victor and Richard squatting on the ground. Victor held several thin branches and kept drawing in the dirt while muttering to himself. Richard already looked utterly miserable.

"Look, using the simplest tools to draw such precise and perfect figures—isn't that amazing? Next, I'll teach you how to divide a line segment..." Victor showed no intention of stopping.

Donald moved closer and took a look. What Victor had drawn was all familiar Euclidean Geometry. It seemed this world's mathematical level was only equivalent to that of Ancient Greece. These simple ruler-and-compass constructions alone had already fascinated Victor to no end.

Richard looked up at his brother with a pleading expression. The boy had already paid more than enough for his poorly timed curiosity.

Donald squatted down and took a branch. He first drew an angle on the ground, roughly divided it into three parts, then looked at Victor with an earnest expression.

"You're asking how to trisect this angle? Using ruler-and-compass constructions." Coming to this smithy had been the most correct decision he had made recently. He had unexpectedly encountered two children interested in natural history at once.

Donald nodded hard, his face full of sincere eagerness to learn, while inwardly he laughed.

"That is an excellent question. I just explained to Richard how to bisect an angle. Your question only requires going a little deeper..." As Victor spoke, he drew an angle and began studying what he considered a not particularly difficult problem in Graphics.

Five minutes later, Victor was still drawing.

Half an hour later, he had covered a large patch of ground with drawings. Forced to move to another spot, he continued trying. Sweat had already appeared on his forehead, and he occasionally looked up at the two boys. "Just a little longer..."

An hour later, Victor had forgotten the people around him entirely. Richard took the opportunity to slip away when he was not looking. Merkel could not help standing up to watch him draw, occasionally casting puzzled glances at Donald.

Donald still wore an utterly harmless expression. Watching Victor dive headfirst, completely unguarded, into a mathematical problem that had plagued Earth's people for thousands of years, he could not help feeling a little sorry for him. But on second thought, to rescue his little brother Richard, this small prank would probably be forgiven.