By the time Amos set out again, another month had already passed.
Breathing in the damp sea breeze, Amos realized that his body was already filled with the scent of a girl.
The memories of warmth and softness lingered in his mind.
It took Amos quite a while to pull himself free from them.
He was currently heading toward the Grove of Epiphany.
Although his plan to follow the two Chrysos Heirs and see the larger world had been shattered by the sudden destruction of Aedes Elysiae, after thinking it over carefully, Amos realized that what he needed to do hadn’t really changed.
He still had to study at the Grove.
After all, with his current abilities, there was no way he could involve himself in the divine wars of the Chrysos Heirs.
He couldn’t understand Cyrene’s prayers, and when Phainon fought, all he could do was watch.
Perhaps with his knowledge of the plot, he could help the Chrysos Heirs with some things and gain their trust.
But the problems that trapped the Chrysos Heirs had all been arranged personally by Lygus.
If he solved them too easily, wouldn’t that be like slapping Lygus in the face?
He wasn’t a Goldblood protected by the authority of the Titan of Law.
For scraps of data like him, Lygus possessed almost complete editing rights.
Once Lygus noticed him, the matter of his transmigration would definitely be exposed.
Amos had no intention of placing everything on Lygus’s conscience.
As the ship drew closer and closer to its destination, Amos’s thoughts became clearer.
Saving Cyrene was equal to saving the universe.
That subject was too grand, so grand that there wasn’t even a place to begin.
So it would be better to narrow his focus.
Instead of blindly searching for the galaxy, he should first find a way to preserve his memories through the cycles.
Amos actually had an idea about that.
The Lost Realm would not be swallowed by the Black Tide, nor would it be affected by the world’s reset.
If he could split off his memories and place them inside the Lost Secret Realm, then would his next life be able to obtain the memories of this one?
Amos didn’t know how to separate memories, but he knew who possessed a method for splitting souls.
Anaxa(goras).
This was a wise man who might one day join the Genius Society.
His research into souls filled the world with fear.
He had once sacrificed a portion of his soul to pass on clues about the fire seeds to the Chrysos Heirs.
Long ago, he had also permanently lost the soul of his left eye in exchange for seeing his sister one last time.
Therefore, what he needed to do in the Grove of Epiphany during this life was simple.
Become a scholar, study the world, attract Anaxa’s attention, and obtain the method of splitting souls.
Then, before the world reset, place the soul fragment into the Lost Secret Realm.
The only flaw in this plan was Lygus.
Lygus definitely knew about the Lost Secret Realm.
He might only think it was a special condensation of the Path of Remembrance, unaware that it was actually the future Cyrene acting in place of Fuli’s divine power, and thus had not paid much attention to it.
But if someone tried to use the Lost Secret Realm to avoid the world’s reset, Lygus would definitely notice and stop them.
But if it was only for passing on information, perhaps a god high above would not care.
After all, wasn’t the struggle of mortals also a play worth watching?
The enormous divine tree that reached into the clouds slowly appeared on the horizon.
Amos looked at the wonder before him.
On the surface, he marveled together with everyone else, but inwardly, he mocked himself.
He said he didn’t want to place everything on Lygus’s conscience, but…
Wasn’t that exactly what he was doing?
——— Limited by presentation and hardware capabilities, only a few areas of the Grove of Epiphany had been opened in the game.
Everything else was just background images, making it seem as though the Grove of Epiphany really was nothing more than a tree.
But in reality, aside from the divine tree itself and the Grove of Epiphany built upon it, there was also a vast city at the foot of the tree.
The largest group in the city wasn’t students.
It was merchants.
They gathered beneath knowledge not to listen to the teachings of truth, but to learn what experiments the truths were planning recently and which suppliers they would use.
Some pure scholars believed these merchants had stained the wisdom of the Titan of Reason and ruined the academic atmosphere of the Grove of Epiphany.
But Amos thought it was great, because…
“Five thousand Balance Coins and I can participate in the Grove of Epiphany’s examination?” “It’s not an examination.
It’s a chance to audit classes in the Quiet Court of Seeking Knowledge.” Amos glanced at the pot-bellied merchant and asked, “What’s the difference?” The merchant could tell that Amos knew nothing about the Grove of Epiphany, but he had no intention of deceiving him.
The information Amos wanted could be learned from anyone, and in this line of work, reputation was the most important thing.
“Young man, you don’t know.
The Grove examination isn’t something ordinary people can take.
It’s the only path to becoming a Grove scholar.
You need ‘results’ before you can apply.” “Results…
research results?” “That’s right.” Amos pondered for a moment.
“But I heard that some Grove scholars spend their whole lives studying a single subject.
How did they enter the Grove?” The merchant smiled.
“That’s where the Quiet Court of Seeking Knowledge comes in.” “You should know that the Quiet Court of Seeking Knowledge is the only area open to outsiders, though you need reservations in advance.
My business…
is basically just helping people cut in line a bit.” Understood.
A ticket scalper.
“Although the Quiet Court itself doesn’t teach classes, it’s the dream destination of scholars outside the Grove, because not only are the latest studies of Grove scholars displayed there, but every now and then, real Grove scholars go there to ‘recruit people.'” Amos was surprised.
“Recruit people?
For research projects?” “Exactly.
As expected of a scholar, your mind works fast!” the merchant praised.” “These projects are actually recruitment ceremonies for the seven major schools.
Think about it, you need results to take the examination, but research burns money.
How could the sages not know that?” “So to avoid wasting talent, the schools occasionally release projects that are just difficult enough to test a person’s true abilities without costing much, giving scholars from ordinary backgrounds a chance.” “Wouldn’t that bring in all kinds of people?” “No.
Results only qualify you for the Grove examination.
No matter how much money someone spends, without real ability they still can’t become a Grove scholar.” “So that’s how it is…” Amos rubbed his chin and tossed over a small money pouch.
The merchant caught it and weighed it lightly in his hand.
Knowing the amount was enough, his smile grew even wider.
“All right.
Young man, your luck is good.
A scholar canceled a reservation for two days from now because of something unexpected.
You can apply directly then!” Reality was far more vivid than the game.
After spending two days wandering around the city beneath the Grove, Amos couldn’t help imagining how magnificent Okhema, the greatest holy city under heaven, must be.
Two days later, Amos verified his identity before guards who were clearly used to this and entered the Quiet Court of Seeking Knowledge.
The Quiet Court of Seeking Knowledge, untouched by the Black Tide and the Flame Chasers, was much larger than in the game.
A huge square split into seven branches, each representing the path to one of the seven major schools.
The square itself was also subtly divided into seven sections by different colored ground.
Scrolls and slips of paper were posted on the walls.
The former represented newly published research by Grove scholars, while the latter were projects released by the schools.
Crowds of scholars wandered around the square.
Some gathered in front of scrolls and discussed them.
Others held slips of paper while recruiting people to study together.
But most were writing furiously in their notebooks.
Unlike those confused scholars, Amos’s goal was very clear.
He headed straight for the section belonging to the Wisdomseed School led by Anaxa.
After studying the scrolls and papers for a while, Amos walked out without hesitation.
He couldn’t understand them.
He completely couldn’t understand them.
The wisdom of a seventeen-year-old country boy only allowed Amos to understand some rough technical terms.
As for the scientific knowledge from his previous life, it had nothing to do with the alchemy that the Wisdomseed School specialized in.
Amos wasn’t discouraged.
He had expected this.
This visit to the Grove was only for reconnaissance.
He could go back and cram some knowledge in the city based on key terms.
Maybe then he would understand.
Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Amos went to look around the other schools.
The Erythrokeramists school, responsible for arts and education, advocated the growth of the mind and perception.
It sounded a bit like yoga.
Didn’t seem reliable.
The Helkolithists School supervised physical training.
Training was too tiring.
Not going.
The Venerationists School handled important ceremonies and mainly studied theology and politics.
The most useless one.
The Nodist School managed books and archives and specialized in calculation, which meant mathematics.
Amos looked over the Nodist School’s projects and felt that with his mathematical knowledge from his previous life, he was confident he could enter.
But the Nodist School itself wasn’t a good choice.
Everyone knew that mathematicians only needed paper and pens, so the Nodist School was the poorest among the seven major schools.
Moreover, the Nodist School had little connection with the others.
They only focused on theoretical calculations and didn’t care about practical applications.
If he joined, it would be difficult to come into contact with research related to supernatural powers, and it would also be hard to establish any connection with Anaxa.
Not going.
The Caprists School supervised forests and strange beasts.
It mainly studied animals and medicine.
People called them caretakers.
The professional requirements were too high.
Not going.
The Lotophagists School was responsible for herb gardens and food, mainly researching plants.
Its professional requirements were also extremely high…
‘Wait!’ Amos recalled the research results and projects he had just seen in the Lotophagists School and gradually discovered a blind spot.
‘This world…’ ‘Seems to have no hybridization technology?’ ‘That’s right, it really doesn’t!’ This was a world that had existed for less than five thousand years since creation.
Every resource was at its peak.
If not for the Black Tide, new species might be discovered every day.
In such an environment with extremely abundant resources, discovering new crops was easier and more meaningful than cultivating new ones.
Perhaps only after the Black Tide swallowed most of the world and resources became scarce would scholars begin to value the increase in production brought by hybridization.
But now…
‘If I can put forward this theory, then wouldn’t I be able to obtain a “result” and gain the opportunity to enter the Grove?’