Before Florent could finish lamenting, he abruptly stopped his musings and snuggled deeper into the soft sofa...
With a satisfied sigh, he declared, "Now this is life. Studying is heresy..."
After a moment of peaceful silence, he straightened up with an air of determination, as if erasing all memory of his earlier laziness:
"I love studying. I can't imagine what people would even do without it."
No matter what, studying was currently the most important thing. In his past life, not studying might have earned him a scolding or, at worst, a beating...
But in this world, neglecting his studies would invite the personal intervention of his ancestors to teach him the consequences.
'Who would have thought that Bethel, despite his aloof and seemingly mad demeanor, would turn out to be a stricter taskmaster than any parent from his past life? Terrifying.' Florent mentally crossed himself.
Picking up another mysticism book from his collection, he read the title: ~Low-Level Sigil Studies~
His curiosity piqued, he flipped it open.
Suddenly...
Without hesitation, he dramatically raised the book as if to slam it down... but upon seeing its aged cover, he reconsidered, sheepishly setting it back down.
'It must be my inner drama queen acting up again...'
The book had been compiled by an ancestor of the Abraham family, but the very first page warned:
<...If you are a Sequence 9 'Apprentice', DO NOT OPEN THIS BOOK. The consequences will be severe...>
Naturally, Florent turned to the next page, where he found:
<...I knew you little brats wouldn't listen. 'Apprentices' have pathetically weak spirituality and can't handle sigil-making. Weaklings, don't even try...>
The audacity of these words compelled Florent to keep reading. The following pages contained gems like:
<...Told you not to flip, yet here you are. Asking for a smacking?...>
And:
<...Heh, not showing you anything. Suffer...>
This ancestor had apparently been bored enough to fill a textbook with taunts and had a particular vendetta against 'Apprentices'.
Florent couldn't let that stand. No man could tolerate being told he wasn't good enough... unless it was true of course...
But as he read further, he realized that despite the snark, the compiler knew their stuff. The actual instructional content was solid.
And it turned out 'Apprentices' really couldn't make sigils...
Even after fully digesting the potion, they could only produce one barely functional sigil per day... and even then, they had to guard against the whispers that came with depleted spirituality.
After all, the 'Apprentice' Sequence mainly enhanced the mind and body while granting the 'Door Opening' ability. Asking for more was pushing it...
Before long, Florent noticed it was already past 11 p.m... Deciding not to push himself further, he called it a night.
.....
The next morning, Florent rose early, adhering to a disciplined schedule...
Chanting "Time is precious~" like a mantra, he forced himself out of bed and prepared for a day of study at the Trier National Library.
After getting ready, he idly rummaged through the kitchen. Eating out every day, no matter how affordable, didn't sit right with him.
Unfortunately, even after turning the kitchen upside down, he found no food... just half a can of tea leaves and a fresh pack of coffee beans. Though he had no idea how to brew coffee properly, he did unearth a porcelain mortar and pestle.
What followed was a chaotic half-hour of grinding, boiling, and improvising. By the end, Florent was on the verge of losing his patience... That was until the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, reigniting the joy he once felt when learning to cook.
Placing the solitary cup of coffee on the dining table, Florent frowned.
Something was missing. He considered running out to buy bread, but worried the coffee would go cold. Not in the mood to read, he settled on fetching the morning newspaper from the mailbox... perfect for sipping coffee while catching up on the news.
When he returned, the kitchen was fragrant with coffee. Though no connoisseur, even Florent could tell this batch was high-quality.
Leaning back in his wooden chair, newspaper in one hand and coffee in the other, he felt like the protagonist of a British drama... a modern-day Sherlock Holmes...
Alas, his fantasy was short-lived. The moment he took a sip, he spat it back out. Not because it was scalding, but because the bitterness was overwhelming, amplified by the heat.
Thankfully, he hadn't splashed the newspaper. Wiping his mouth, he stared at the barely touched coffee, his face twisted in disgust.
"Toss it? Or suffer through?"
After a brief internal struggle, he resolved to finish it.
"Waste not, want not. I made this; I'll drink it."
And so, Florent endured the over-brewed, bitter coffee while slowly working through the newspaper. By the time he finished, over an hour had passed.
Stretching, he realized this was his life now. No more frantic, aimless busywork. He'd work when needed and rest when he pleased.
The gentlemen of Trier... no, the entire world's upper class lived like this. Many were even lazier than him. Compared to the breakneck pace of his past life, this era was downright leisurely.
'I'm not a wage slave anymore!' Florent cheered internally, giving himself a mental thumbs-up.
Still, he decided to head to the library. Life is precious after all, and the great ancestor Bethel wouldn't tolerate slacking.
As he strolled through Trier and admiring the scenery, time slipped away. By the time he reached the library, nearly two hours had passed.
Along the way, he stopped at a bakery, sampling local pastries and deciding to skip lunch.
Days passed in peaceful study...
Thankfully, the world remained quiet, allowing Florent to enjoy his first stretch of tranquility since arriving in this world...
...
{T/N: If you know a good Untranslated Chinese Lotm Fanfic, let me know... A fast paced one this time please...}