Breathing Lv. 2

Back in the faculty office, Holland rummaged through something on the bookshelf against the wall behind him.

"The competition is a month away. Just memorizing the textbook excerpts won't be enough."

He took three books from the shelf and stacked them on the desk.

"These are supplementary materials. Take one home and read it."

Richard glanced at the spines.

The first was a complete annotated edition of Cicero's Speeches, thick enough to use as a brick;

the second was an introduction to Rhetoric Studies, covering the classical system of oratory, from breath control to proper gestures;

the third had a rather long title: From Temple to Podium: The Evolution of Religious Ritual Language in Classical Rhetoric.

Richard immediately chose the third book.

The evolution of religious ritual language—that subject straddled religious studies and linguistics.

If the code system in Appendix C wasn't an isolated case, then books like this would be the tools he needed when he encountered similar encoded texts in the future.

Reference books could help him trace a term's original meaning through its etymology and determine whether a word was common Latin or jargon specific to a particular sect.

"I'll take the third one."

Holland scratched at his bald head.

Most students would choose the first or second book: one for the points, the other for the techniques.

He had picked the third one at random. It was a purely academic work, and the least directly useful for the competition.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure."

"All right, suit yourself."

When Richard took it, he felt its weight in his hands. The paper was good quality, and the type was crisp. It must have been a rather expensive book.

"Sir, this book wasn't cheap, was it?"

"It wasn't. I had to pull some strings with an old classmate to get it. You won't find it in an ordinary bookstore."

Holland pushed the other two books back onto the shelf and said without turning around,

"The book's yours. Take it home and read it as much as you like. Better yet, read it to pieces."

Richard's performance earlier had made him look good in front of his colleagues. This was a kind of reward.

"Thank you, sir."

Richard left the office and headed down the corridor toward the stairs.

[Scholarship] Lv. 1 Experience: 147/200

Between his practice presentation just now and his conversation with Mr. West, his experience had jumped by several points.

A high density of information combined with immediate feedback really was more effective than passively sitting through a lecture.

He hitched his schoolbag higher on his shoulder. His steps were lighter than they had been on the way in.

Early Wednesday morning, before the sky had fully brightened.

Half-asleep, Richard felt a burning sensation in his chest, as if someone had pressed a warmed copper kettle against the spot between his ribs.

As the air flowed in, he faintly heard a sound coming from inside his chest.

The panel updated.

[Breathing] Lv. 2 Experience: 0/500

He took several more deep breaths in bed and tried to feel what had changed.

The air seemed to move faster through his windpipe, and it met less resistance as it passed the branching points of his bronchi.

In short, his breathing had become more efficient.

Each breath could bring in a little more oxygen and expel a little more waste gas.

As a result, he already felt more clearheaded than usual, even though he was still lying in bed.

Every morning, he used to spend a few minutes in a fog after waking up, like a computer waiting for its hard drive to spin up.

Today, that foggy period was almost nonexistent.

He reached over and checked the detailed information on the panel.

Lv. 2 had not unlocked any new effect description. The only change was that the experience bar's cap had risen from 200 to 500.

The experience required to level up had more than doubled, but his breathing had become more efficient, and each breath was higher in quality.

Although the experience bar was longer, the rate at which he gained experience probably wouldn't drop by much.

Richard pushed off the covers and sat up, taking a moment to steady himself on the edge of the bed.

He didn't sleep well. He woke up once or twice in the middle of the night, sometimes because his own coughing woke him.

But last night, he had slept straight through until morning.

The [Sleeping] skill hadn't lit up yet, but with his breathing optimized, the improved oxygen supply during sleep probably meant his body had repaired itself more efficiently overnight.

Skills could affect one another indirectly.

He picked up the notebook beside his bed and drew a simple diagram on a blank page:

Breathing → oxygen supply → sleep quality → energy → learning efficiency → Scholarship experience

[Breathing] affected sleep quality, sleep quality affected his energy during the day, and his daytime energy affected how efficiently he learned. In turn, learning efficiency affected how quickly he gained [Scholarship] experience.

If Lv. 3 [Breathing] really could achieve "gradual recovery from chronic illness," its indirect effects would be enormous.

A body that was continually repairing itself would have its energy reserves pushed higher and higher.

He would be able to devote more time and effort to studying, training, and working each day, which in turn would accelerate the leveling of all his skills.

When he went downstairs, his mother was already in the kitchen.

"You look lively today." Margaret glanced at him.

"Yeah, I slept pretty well last night."

"That's unusual." His mother looked surprised. "You used to cough for ages in the middle of the night. You've been better these past two weeks, but you still cough a couple of times."

"Maybe it's because it's gotten warmer."

It was early autumn in Briston, and the temperature had actually dropped over the past few days.

But his mother didn't press him on it. She simply brought the bread and tea to the table.

His father still hadn't come downstairs. From Evelyn's room came the sound of things being rummaged through; she was probably looking for something.

Richard sat at the table and took a sip of tea.

The numbers on the panel continued ticking quietly.

[Breathing] Lv. 2 Experience: 1/500

[Scholarship] Lv. 1 Experience: 150/200

Breathing was progressing, and Scholarship had only a quarter of its experience bar left.

Once Scholarship reached Lv. 2, his ability to absorb knowledge would improve another notch.

By then, his preparations for the Cicero Cup, the books that followed Appendix C, and the copy of From Temple to Podium that Mr. Holland had given him would all be absorbed more efficiently.

And then there was the Sphinx Oil Lamp.

Warren was paying for lunch, and Gray was taking care of breakfast. With those two expenses covered, he could save all the pocket money he would otherwise have spent on food.

But the two-pound gap was too large. No matter how much pocket money he saved, it wouldn't be enough. He would still have to rely on the Cicero Cup.

He heard Evelyn coming downstairs.

The girl dropped into a chair, her braid swinging behind her, and reached straight for the bread.

She glanced at Richard out of the corner of her eye, looking curious.

"Bro, you look even better today."

"Do I?"

"Yeah, you've got some color in your face."

She split open the bread and spread marmalade on it, quick and deft.

"Could it be because..." she murmured, her expression turning a little strange.

Richard immediately cut in. "Because I slept well last night."

"Oh, you slept well."

Evelyn took a big bite of her marmalade-covered bread, chewed twice, then added indistinctly,

"That's good. Remember to... um, rest."

Richard was a little speechless. He picked up his teacup and took a sip.

His little sister still hadn't gotten over that misunderstanding from last time.

He decided not to explain anything. He knew from experience that trying to clear things up would only make them worse.

Time would wash everything away, including his sister's overactive imagination.

His mother poked her head out of the kitchen. "What are you two whispering about?"

"Nothing," the siblings answered in unison.

Outside the window, Briston's chimneys began to belch smoke. The low-frequency vibrations of heavy machinery in the distance traveled through the foundations and into the house.

A new day.

Richard finished his bread, drained his cup of tea, and carried the dishes to the kitchen.

Then he headed out for the bus stop with Evelyn, who was hurriedly stuffing a slice of bread into her mouth.

Today they had Mr. Hutton's history class. Richard had plenty of questions he wanted the old gentleman to answer.