Rhett furrowed his brows, thinking to himself that perhaps soaking the vase in water wasn’t the solution. Two possibilities crossed his mind.
One, the water-soaking method might not be sufficient to break through the hidden mechanism left by the previous owner.
Two, he might be overthinking it—perhaps the breathing technique or combat skill wasn't hidden inside this particular antique but within other yet-to-be-discovered relics.
He was about to pour out the water and try heating the vase when something stopped him in his tracks. Small black particles began to float on the water’s surface, gradually increasing in number at a steady pace.
Rylee blinked in surprise and exclaimed, “There’s something in the water! What is that?”
The commotion caught Tuck and Thales' attention. They set down their forks and knives, leaving their food behind as they hurried over.
“What’s happening?” Thales asked curiously, his eyes glued to the vase. Although he didn’t possess any extraordinary powers, his fascination with them was undeniable.
Tuck, with his thick eyebrows and large eyes, stared intently at the black particles on the water’s surface. Instinctively, he positioned himself closer to Rhett, his body tense and ready to protect his father should anything dangerous emerge from the water—though the odds of that seemed slim.
Seeing this, Rhett's lips curled into a smile. It appeared his luck was turning, as the first attempt yielded results.
As the group watched intently, more black particles emerged on the vase's surface until they formed a thin black layer, gently rippling across the water.
"Alright, drain the water," Rhett instructed after noticing that the black layer had stabilized and was no longer increasing.
Rylee’s curiosity intensified as he eagerly awaited the outcome, but the black layer blocked their view of what lay inside.
With a thought, Rylee manipulated the water into a murky stream, which flowed out of the vase and into a nearby patch of open ground.
As the interior of the vase was illuminated by Rhett’s magic, it seemed as though it had shed an old skin. This time, everyone could clearly see the vase's interior.
No longer aged and weathered, the surface now revealed pristine, newly inscribed text and illustrations.
Everyone’s expressions were ones of astonishment, their breaths quickening in excitement. Even Rhett feigned surprise, pointing to the vase. “It looks like... a breathing technique?”
It wasn’t difficult to discern. The illustrations included numerous movements, anatomical diagrams, and other complex details—typical of a breathing technique.
Meditation methods, magic, and combat skills generally wouldn’t be depicted in this way, as they rarely required such detailed visual representation.
Tuck’s eyes widened as he absorbed the information inscribed within the vase, gradually becoming enthralled. Though rough around the edges, Tuck wasn’t unintelligent. He quickly realized that this breathing technique was far more advanced than the lower-tier Bull Breathing Technique he currently practiced.
This had to be a mid-level breathing technique!
His body trembled with excitement. As he returned to his senses, he couldn’t help but marvel at his father’s foresight—anticipating that there might be hidden treasures within the relics of the ancient Dan Kingdom.
If not for Rhett’s keen intuition, the caravan would have departed today, potentially leading this antique to fall into the hands of another noble. If that had happened, Tuck would have missed out on this precious mid-level breathing technique.
Glancing back at his father, Tuck’s eyes were filled with deep admiration. He couldn’t contain himself and lunged toward Rhett with a wide grin. Caught off guard by the close proximity, Rhett found himself in a tight embrace.
“Thank you, Father!” Tuck laughed heartily as he hugged Rhett, reminiscing about childhood days spent playing with his father—some of the happiest memories of his life.
To onlookers, however, this scene appeared comical. Tuck, with his towering frame, stood a head taller than Rhett, making the embrace look somewhat absurd.
Rhett’s face darkened as he heard the faint sounds of laughter from those around him. He quickly shoved Tuck away with a look of disdain. “Get off! How many times have I told you not to overreact?”
He added, “When Dick grows up, I’ll make sure to warn him to use you as a bad example.”
“It’s just a mid-level breathing technique—no need to get so worked up!” Rhett rubbed his arm, though despite his grumbling, a smile crept onto his lips.
Mid-level breathing techniques were undeniably valuable for any faction, as they could accelerate a knight’s training. Generally, unless a viscount or baron’s family had an exceptional ancestor or had encountered a rare opportunity, acquiring a mid-level breathing technique was extremely difficult.
For noble factions, breathing techniques were as valuable as meditation methods. After all, if magical talent was rare—say, one in ten thousand—then knightly talent might be one in a hundred, or at worst, one in a thousand.
Given the same population base, the number of knights would naturally exceed the number of mages. As a result, the impact of knightly breathing techniques was much greater.
With this in mind, Rhett’s thoughts began to turn. This development meant that expanding the population of his territory could be prioritized.
However, population expansion had to be gradual. After all, the Kingdom of Gillon strictly forbade internal conflict among nobles. Forcefully seizing population from other noble territories was out of the question. Instead, he would have to find ways to attract refugees, free people, or purchase slaves from other kingdoms.
Having been unceremoniously pushed away, Tuck didn’t mind in the slightest. He continued grinning to himself, basking in his newfound fortune.
Meanwhile, Thales looked on with genuine admiration in his eyes. “Congratulations, brother. With this breathing technique, you’ll be able to become a Great Knight even faster, right?”
Since he wasn’t a practitioner, Thales had always considered Great Knights to be immensely powerful, like Baron Brann, who was a rank four Great Knight.
Tuck, with a broad smile that he made no attempt to conceal, chuckled as he ruffled Thales’ curly hair. “Haha, of course! I’ll definitely become a Great Knight!” Little did he know that if Rhett hadn’t intervened today, his path to knightly power might have ended prematurely.
Feeling that Tuck had ruffled his hair a bit too forcefully, Thales rubbed his head in annoyance and pushed away the large hand.
Rylee chuckled from the sidelines. He had switched to the Furnace Meditation method over a month before Tuck, so he had no envy—only happiness for his brother’s good fortune.
Instead, his thoughts aligned with his father’s: with a mid-level breathing technique, their family’s knightly forces would grow stronger and faster.
He eyed the rectangular vase and furrowed his brow, thinking aloud, “I suggest cutting the vase open along the four corners and piecing it together into a tablet. That way, it’ll be easier to reference in the future.”
Tuck’s eyes darted around as he imagined the inconvenience of having to peer inside the vase every time he wanted to study the breathing technique. The idea of carrying a vase and a light source around seemed too cumbersome, so he quickly nodded in agreement.
He wasn’t a mage, after all, and couldn’t summon light at will.
Rhett nodded, acknowledging Rylee’s suggestion, but added, “There’s no rush. Let’s put everything else on hold for now and head to the Little Thorn Forest.”
Then, turning to Rylee and Tuck, he said, “The caravan’s departure will be postponed for a few days. We must thoroughly investigate the area around the thorn trees, even if it means digging three feet deep to ensure there are no other hidden relics.” His tone was firm, leaving no room for refusal.