Arthur sat in his room, the faint morning light filtering through the window. The heat from his chest had subsided, but the memory of it, and the vibrating hum of the coin, lingered. He needed to see what had changed.
He took out the dark metal coin, its surface cool and unassuming. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and focused his mind, sending his consciousness into the spatial item.
The familiar dark room appeared in his mind's eye. The pile of gold coins glittered in one corner. His old sword rested against a wall. And in the other end, the tall shelves of books stood silently, waiting.
This time, he didn't hesitate. He walked towards the shelves.
He remembered the crimson barrier, the wall of pain that had stopped him before. He reached the spot where it had appeared, his steps slowing. He took one careful step forward, across the invisible line.
Nothing happened.
He took another step.
The world twisted.
The small, dark room dissolved around him. The feeling was like being plunged into ice-cold water. When his senses returned a second later, he was standing in a different place entirely.
It was a library. A giant, silent library. Towering shelves, carved from a dark, ageless wood, stretched up into a gloom so high he couldn't see the ceiling. The air smelled of old paper, leather, and a profound, undisturbed silence. There was no dust, no decay. Just an endless sea of books.
"What is this place?" He thought to himself.
He knew about spatial artifacts. And spatial artifacts did not have endless amounts of space like this. Even a single room of space was worth fortunes.
But yet this place seemed so real, like he was teleported into a different dimension.
For a moment, Arthur stood in awe. Then, the excitement hit him. A library left by someone like Ezriel… it had to be filled with powerful skills! Lost arts! Forbidden techniques!
He rushed to the nearest shelf, his eyes scanning the titles on the leather-bound spines.
'Principles of Mana Condensation.'
Useless. He pulled it out, glanced at the table of contents, and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed with a soft thud.
He moved to the next one. 'A Study of Fated Connections: Tier Theory.'
Boring. He threw it behind him.
He moved with a frantic energy, pulling book after book, his heart pounding with anticipation.
'Runic Symbology: An Introduction.'
'The Alchemical Properties of Beast Cores.'
'Fundamentals of Aura Manifestation.'
'An Analysis of Defensive Formations.'
He went through shelf after shelf, his initial excitement slowly turning to cold, bitter disappointment. The pile of discarded books on the floor around him grew.
Not a single one was a skill book. There was no 'Dragon Fist Style', no 'Heavenly Blade Art'. It was all theory. Dense, boring, academic theory. The kind of stuff old mages in towers read. What good was any of this?
"Is this some kind of joke?" he muttered, his voice sounding small in the vast library.
He looked up from the pile of books, his gaze falling on the long, seemingly endless corridor of shelves that stretched further into the darkness. Maybe the good stuff, the real skills, were deeper inside.
He strode forward with renewed determination. He passed the first row of bookshelves, then the second. But as he tried to step past the third, he ran into it.
The shimmering, crimson barrier was back. It pulsed with a faint, dangerous light, blocking his path. He cautiously reached out a hand, but a sharp, stabbing pain shot up his arm before his fingers even touched it, forcing him to pull back with a hiss.
He was trapped. It seemed this mysterious library would only allow him access to the first section. The beginner's section. The theory section.
Arthur stared at the crimson wall for a long moment, then let out a sigh of pure frustration. He turned around and looked at the mess he'd made, the dozens of books scattered on the floor. It was all he had.
Begrudgingly, he walked back and began to pick them up, placing them back on the shelves. As he did, he started to actually read the titles again, this time with less frantic hope and more resignation.
'The Art of Weapon Enchanting.' He paused. "Could be useful later, I guess."
'Meditation and Mana Recovery.' "Maybe."
He continued like this, slowly reorganizing the shelf. Then, a book with a simple, dark green cover caught his eye. It wasn't the title that made him stop. It was the illustration on the cover.
The Art of Herbology (An Introduction)
The picture was a detailed, life-like drawing of a small, silver-leafed plant with tiny, bell-shaped blue flowers.
Arthur froze. He recognized that plant.
He had seen it before, growing at the base of a rock near where he had fought the Dire Wolf in the Eldermoor Forest. At the time, he'd thought nothing of it, just another piece of scenery. But seeing it here, rendered in such detail on the cover of a book from this impossible library… it felt significant.
He hesitated, then pulled the book from the shelf. It felt heavy in his hands. He thought about the Thunder Punishing Fist, the flashy skills he had hoped to find. This was a book about plants.
"The Academy cares only for true potential." Maelon had said.
Maybe… maybe power wasn't just about learning how to fight better.
With another sigh, this one less frustrated and more thoughtful, Arthur sat down on the floor.
He opened "The Art of Herbology" to the first page and began to read.