"THERE'S SO MANY people out and about town!" Alice gasped, turning her head to follow a little boy that was holding onto a candied apple that had rushed past her.

"Yes," Wyatt beamed, his eyes pressed closed due to his smile, crinkling at the corners. "It's always rather busy in the capital of Gladiolum." 

A day after the ball, Wyatt had suggested bringing Alice around the town square to soak in the sights. He personally had to do a little shopping and thought that it would be a wonderful chance for Alice to grow more familiar with the capital. She had been living with the Ragans for nearly two weeks and yet she had barely even stepped out of the mansion's walls. It was best for young ladies to enjoy their time around town with friends. Being constantly cooped up in the study room with Charlie wasn't exactly an ideal situation in Wyatt's opinion. Of course, not that Alice had ever complained.

Strolling through the cobbled streets, Wyatt pointed out some of his personal favorite shops along the way. They passed by boutiques selling beautiful ball gowns, stores selling sparkling jewels, and even quaint little cafes that wafted out the sugary sweet scent of freshly baked pastries. However, while Alice acted as though she was very interested in those, he could tell that was all it was. An act. She simply smiled and nodded to Wyatt's words, not once asking to step into any of those stores like he had expected. Yet again she had him colored surprised.

Just the thought brought a curving smile onto his lips. The girl that his family had chanced upon was most certainly different from the rest of the girls in the capital. She stood out in such a way that there wasn't any spare place for the others to shine. She was the lone star now, a happy and proud resident of the Ragan household. While still suspicious of her origins, Wyatt couldn't help but admit to himself that he was growing fond of Alice Clemente.

"Are you not interested in any of the shops I pointed out?" He prodded. "Those are all famous names here in the capital."

"Oh!" Alice exclaimed. Wyatt watched with his practiced smile as the girl's eyes widened delightfully, eyelashes fluttering like a pair of butterfly wings under the golden sunlight. Her lips parted just a little in surprise before she quickly gathered back her wits, shaking her head politely. "They are all wonderful shops. I just… I don't have any money to buy all those things. Looking through the store window is more than enough."

For years Wyatt had worn the same smile on his face. It was his perfectly crafted mask made to shield his true emotions from the rest of the nobles. No matter what he felt inside, a smile was always the answer to dealing with those that had to be schemed against. However, every time Alice spoke or made one of her silly little expressions, he found his smiles to turn true as day.

"Let us go into that one, then." Wyatt pointed to a little bookshop down the street, a corner store with a gleaming bronze sign. "There are some things I wish to purchase."

Alice nodded. "Alright," she said.

Although her expression remained as still as possible, Wyatt still caught the slight twitch of her lips. The sparkles in her eyes practically screamed of her excitement. She couldn't fool anyone. Even the blind could tell that she was particularly eager to enter the bookshop. 

The little bell that hung above the door rang when Wyatt entered the shop. Inside, there were no other customers, simply a store clerk that had a book in hand. A pair of round spectacles rested on his crooked nose bridge, his eyes scanning the words at an immense speed before he licked his finger and flipped to the next page. At the call of the bell, the clerk looked up from his book, squinting at the door before rising to his feet. The book was placed pages-down onto the counter, a smile upon his lips.

"Master Wyatt!" The old clerk greeted enthusiastically. "I was wondering when you'll be visiting next. The books you ordered two weeks back are finally here." 

"Greetings," Wyatt replied fairly. "And thank you so much for your help with those. It's nearly impossible to find them anywhere else."

The old man waved, his cheeks reddening just a little. "It's no problem. Let me go get them for you." Shuffling towards the back of the shop, the clerk disappeared behind a dividing curtain.

"Do you come here often?" Alice asked, looking around the small bookstore with great interest. At random, she pulled out one of the books from the shelves, her fingers tracing the title of the book on the cover, feeling the indented words on the hard leather.

'History of Gladiolum. Volume III,' it read. Alice had seen a similar history book in Charlie's study room before. Making a mental note to briefly read through the contents of the book, she slotted the book back to its original position.

"Hmm, I wonder." Tapping a finger to his chin, Wyatt looked deep in thought. "I guess I do visit this store a little more than the average folk. They sell writing supplies as well as books and I run out of the former a little too often. Besides, this store is the only one in the capital that can procure rare and often out-of-print."

Walking a little further into the shop, Alice glanced through the assortment of reading materials offered. They had both fiction and non-fiction books in the store, leaning closer to non-fiction books. Most books were new copies, their covers still brightly colored while others were much older and encased in glass covers. Those books seemed old and tattered but the words were still in dark black ink, most likely having been re-written over so that it wouldn't be lost to time. 

The one that had caught Alice's attention was a purple leather-bound book that was almost as thick as a dictionary. The title of this book was written in bright, glittery gold in thick block letters. A small sign that indicated the price of the old tome was placed beside the book. Alice's eyes widened at the number of zeros, her head reeling back a little in surprise. She still wasn't sure about how the currency worked in Gladiolum but with so many zeros, the book was bound to be expensive no matter the exchange rate.

'The Theory of Magic. Volume I,' the title wrote.

"Are you interested in that one? Ooh, that's a pricey one." Wyatt's voice was right by Alice's ear, causing her to jump a little, her ears tingling from his breath. Stepping away, she held both hands to her chest, staring wide-eyed at Wyatt who looked as amused as ever.

"Just looking," she answered before firing back a question of her own. "How much is that book? I don't really know how the currency works here."

"See that symbol over there?" Wyatt gestured to the symbol behind the number as he spoke. "That's the symbol for our currency, 'fleuron'. That's the larger of the two units that we have in our country's currency. The smaller unit is known as a 'flois'. Ten flois equates to one fleuron. To give you an example of its value, five flois can buy you a piece of stale bread at the end of the day in the capital's cheapest bakery, maybe? Books, on the other hand, are usually five to ten fleurons, if it's a common title that can be easily found."

Alice gulped. Judging by the examples Wyatt provided, the currency here in Gladiolum seemed similar to the system she was used to. A single fleuron held as much value as a dollar back home and a flois would be around ten cents. Her hands were starting to feel clammy as she stared hard at the price tag of The Theory of Magic. 

"And yet this book is…" she trailed off.

"Fifteen thousand fleurons," Wyatt finished the sentence for her chirpily.

Fifteen thousand dollars.

Taking another step back, Alice no longer dared to hover near the expensive article. If anything had happened to it, she wouldn't be able to pay the store back for the damages incurred. She had never seen a book as expensive or even half as pricey. 

"Why is this book so… so…"

"Ridiculously priced?" Wyatt supplied. When Alice nodded numbly, Wyatt chuckled. "This is an ancient tome about magic. There are only five copies of this book that was ever produced. But if you're really interested in this book, there's no need for you to fork out such a hefty amount just to read it. We have a copy of it back in the mansion's library."

Flabbergasted and speechless, Alice blinked dumbly at what Wyatt had so casually revealed. Although she long knew that the Ragan mansion was a sprawling estate with many different needlessly fanciful rooms, she hadn't even thought to think that it might house precious artifacts within its walls. 

In Gladiolum, it seemed as though the gap between its people was wider than the ocean. The rich lived in heaven while the poor couldn't even afford hell.

"Why don't you take a look around the bookshop and see if there's anything that catches your eye?" Wyatt offered. "If we don't already have the book back home, I don't mind making a few extra purchases. It's the least I can do for dragging you out here with me on such a warm afternoon."

Alice's heart skipped a beat. She braved a step closer, momentarily forgetting about the book in the glass display case. Cupping her hands together as if they were in prayer, Alice beamed.

"Really? Any book?"

Wyatt's smile didn't falter. "There's no budget, if that's what you're asking."

Alice wasted no time. Her feet went scurrying across the dark wooden boards of the store, quickly scouring the bookshelves in search of any title that might help her or catch her fancy. Her fingers ran down the spines, quickly pulling out a few covers that had caught her attention, some fiction and some not. She had a feeling that most, if not all, of the non-fiction books were already available in the Ragans' library but there was no harm in bringing the books over for Wyatt to look through. These books will become her survival guide in this foreign world.

As the store clerk returned to the front counter, Wyatt slowly made his way over. However, he was still gazing in Alice's way, watching silently and bemused as the girl darted from shelf to shelf, climbing ladders and bending low in search of more. There were already over seven books in her hands and she only ever added more to the collection.

"My," the old clerk exclaimed. "I've not seen anyone so frantic for a good title since you first came to my humble store years ago. The old ladies at the bakery next block over will go mad once they hear that the young Master Wyatt is no longer single."

The white-haired man chuckled. "She's just a curious little bird my brother picked up a while back."

The old man shrugged, unconvinced, but he didn't say a word more on that topic. With a heavy thump, he placed three thick books onto the counter, the covers in the three primary colors. The titles were all written in gold, large block letters.

"This set was a little trickier to find as compared to your other requests but there you go. Though, Master Wyatt, don't mind this old man prying but are you sure you want to dabble in this subject? There's always a price to pay when you go against the laws of science."

"I can pay whatever price the world throws at me," Wyatt casually remarked. Picking up one of the books carefully with a gloved hand, he examined the old cover, grinning with satisfaction. "Besides, I'm just completing my collection. With these, the set will now be complete. There's no need to worry, sir."

"Oh well," the old clerk sighed, pursing his lips. "If you're sure, youngin. Let me wrap these up for you."

Tottering away, the elderly went to retrieve a few sheets of brown wrapping paper and some strings to bundle up Wyatt's purchases while waiting for Alice. 

Partially leaning on the counter, Wyatt continued to observe Alice. She no longer had the strength to carry the books she had picked out. Instead, she placed most of them on an empty table by one side. The stack of books was almost taller than she was and yet she continued to hunt for more, her eyes practically dripping with avarice.

'How peculiar,' Wyatt thought to himself. 'She is unaffected by fanciful dresses or glittering jewels and yet dusty old books can bring her into a craze. What an odd woman. She is most certainly a woman before her time.'

"I want you to visit me even if it's only in your dreams."

Gifted a candle that was said to be able to make wishes come true, Alice Clemente burned it that very night only to find herself in an unknown world the next morning. 

She had wished for a life of adventure away from the city and its routine. With her wish granted, she was whisked away to a world very different from the one she grew up in. 

Thrust into a new life, would Alice learn how to adapt? Or would she fall down the rabbit hole only to never surface again?

"Lord Minister…"

An uneasy voice trailed into Wei Xuan's ears, filled with a tinge of bitter worry and anxiety. The minister set aside his scroll onto the drawing table, before walking towards the entrance of the study.

The First Madam stood before the double wooden doors, dressed in a plain purple lily robe.

The woman clenched her hands in the folds of her dress, her delicate lips clearly displaying the aftermath of suppressed worry.

"Miaolan…?" Wei Xuan reached forward to caress Sheng Miaolan's cheek in surprise.

"What caused you to worry so much? Quick, come in and tell me about everything, ah?"

The First Madam shook her head as she grasped the proffered hand with trembling fingers.

Stepping into the safe boundary of the study, the woman couldn't help but tremble as she gazed at the minister with teary eyes.

"Lord Minister… this one has had horrifying dreams each night…" Sheng Miaolan pursed her lip, her attractive countenance displaying the inclinations of sorrow.

"Dreams?"

"Yes, dreams… though it would be more apt to label them as nightmares… Lord Minister, this one has dreamed each night that Fei'er was crying to us in agony, displaying numerous, horrifying wounds."

"Fei'er!?"

Wei Xuan took a step back in surprise, his eyes involuntarily widening in surprise.

A moment later, the minister reached forward with both hands to firmly grasp Sheng Miaolan by her shoulders, a stern gleam emanating from his gaze.

"Miaolan, you must not joke with Fei'er's life," Wei Xuan scowled with a dark expression.

"Fei'er has the empress protecting her life, how can she encounter any harm? Miaolan, you must take a deep breath, and not speak of these matters again."

"This one knows," the First Madam nodded with a pitiful countenance, her hand grasping her bosom as she gazed towards the minister with a plea suffused within her eyes.

"Fei'er is Sister Shuyan's daughter, that this one is fully aware. However, since we… toured the streets of Jiang'an, I've… I've considered her as my child as well – Lord Minister, this one is just worried, ah! Worried that the poor child will come into harm, having been separated from her parents at such a young age!"

"Alright, don't start crying again," the minister gently wiped away the tearstains on the woman's countenance.

"Be good, alright? Fei'er should be fine with the empress' protection, but let us hope that your nightmares remain as dreams."

The First Madam nodded her head in quivering assent, her unadorned hair scattered across her shoulders and draped over her back in a messy state.

Wei Xuan took the woman by the hand, leading her towards the recesses of the study whilst closing the double doors with a push of his right palm.

What happened next, was of course, unspeakable yet easy to infer by a single glance.

–

As she climbed up the stairs of sky-blue crystal, the young girl couldn't help but nurse numerous questions in her heart.

How did she come in here in such a fashion?

Why did her leather bag and clothes follow along?

What was… going on?

The desire to seek resolution gnawed at An Fei's conscience, and caused her to reveal a rather unsightly scowl.

The young girl patted her chest to calm her rampant emotions, before surmounting the final step to stand before the throne.

When she had finally dared to direct her glance towards the sacred chair that she had spent numerous hours lounging upon, the young girl was unable to stop herself from jerking backwards in surprise.

Her eyes then narrowed as confusion and suspicion surged within the pair of scarlet irises, and An Fei took faltering steps towards the throne.

The number of books resting on either armrest had increased yet again.

From a single glance, she could recognize the enormous tome bound in black fabric, the <Eternal Sanctum>. Similarly, on the left armest, a book bound in black leather serenely gazed towards the dim sky, the blank cover revealing a dull aura.

Then… what were the other two books?

"<Heavenly Secrets>… and the <Golden Lotus of Establishment>," An Fei read to herself in a quiet voice as her fingers stroked the letters sprawling across the covers of each book.

Her countenance remained dull for a long moment, before a sudden and drastic realization slapped her cheeks with vivacity.

"When did these two books appear in the Sanctum!?"

The two books of tattered leather and goldleaf covers were naturally those she had obtained within the Shattered Star continent.

Both were acquired from the opening of the Pagoda of Sun and Moon, the latter having been elected from a large selection by a group of elders of the Three Lotus Sect, whereas the former had been granted by the high elder himself.

However… how did they appear?

The <Golden Lotus of Establishment> was located somewhere amongst Xiao Ying's possessions, and thus were not located within the study of the Flowing Wind Residence.

The young girl was even uncertain whether the book had survived the screening of the servants in the Wei manor, nor was she aware of its past whereabouts after it had fallen into the maidservant's hands.

As for the <Heavenly Secrets>… she had stowed it into an obscure location in the study, and had forgotten about it ever since.

"These two tomes are indeed the exact manuals I brought out of the Three Lotus Sect…" An Fei nibbled on her bottom lip, the back of her palm slapping the cover of the <Heavenly Secrets> manual in an even rhythm.

"But… what exactly is going on…?"

The young girl twisted and turned as she searched for a possible answer to her inquiry.

However, she could do nothing but return in silent disappointment, for the crystal throne room remained in its ever-present peace and stillness.

An Fei patted the linen coat covering her body to reassure herself of its presence. Without anything else to do, she allowed herself to crumple into the throne, the pair of scarlet irises lazily roaming amongst the books resting atop of the armrests.

She was to remain in this dull state of mind for quite a long period of time, only recovering when her head accidently slid from her supporting palm.

The young girl blinked her eyes in innocent exasperation, before walking towards the first corridor looming towards her from the left.

For some apparent yet inexplicable reason, An Fei wished for nothing but to sleep in a proper bed.

Her mind felt as if it had been submerged into a pool of ice, sluggish to respond to its surroundings.

As she strode towards the gateway that certainly led to the comfortable boudoir, the sound of her foot striking the crystalline ground pounded in her ears with a force akin to that of war drums.

She nearly fumbled her grip on the <Heavenly Secrets> and the book bound in black leather, the imbalanced weights causing her pace to become disorderly and uneven.

[Approach the eternal river].

The Sanctum reverberated as a faint golden light shone from overhead, staining the crystalline ceiling with its golden radiance.

An Fei retracted her foot that had stepped into the corridor, and was forced to stare directly towards the source of the unusual light.

Just a few centimeters below the ceiling, a cloud of golden light remained suspended in the air above An Fei. Thin wisps of light detached from the cluster to coalesce with the crystalline walls, thin threads of light exchanging an unknown information.

When An Fei continued to silently observe the light with beaded eyes, she noticed that the cloud of golden light pulsed at asymmetric intervals, causing a wave of confusion to rise within her heart.

As for why the young girl considered it unusual, was due to the fact that the sky-blue crystal that formed the mysterious Sanctum only released such radiance when it contacted her skin, or was conducting a large body of divine or spiritual essence.

An Fei had never seen a circumstance in which the Sanctum suddenly revealed the golden radiance on its own accord, and thus couldn't restrain her curiosity.

…what was the Sanctum intending to do?

"Approach the eternal… river?" the young girl tilted her head to the side, her brows furrowed in contemplation.

"What does it mean to approach the eternal river?"

Her fatigued and incapacitated mind wailed feebly in response, clearly wishing to spare itself from the torture. An Fei shook her head with a weary sigh, trudging into the first gateway of the Eternal Sanctum of Peace.

A brief moment of time later, and the young girl had snuggled into the blankets within the private boudoir, her palms folded and tucked underneath her cheek as she hugged a pillowcase to her chest.

The young girl was completely incapable of realizing that the dense cloud of golden light had followed her presence into the boudoir, nor did she expect that she would experience a monumental change in just a few hours.

"A mirror?" she wondered, rubbing the smooth surface with her slender fingers. "What's so special about it? It looks so ordinary."


"Just not a plain mirror," replied the grandfather. His gaze distant, his voice was hoarse as he explained. "It'll change your life to the deepest core. Here, since it is your sixteenth birthday, I'll pass it to you as a present."


"How will it change anything?" she retorted, tapping the pristine yet dull surface. "You must be joking! Always prancing about how I need to be more vain, so mean!"


"You will see in due time," was the reply. 



You will see in due time. Just how a single, useless mirror will change your life in many ways unexpected by anyone.


Grandfather was indeed correct. An Fei could not help but admit it. The mirror had completely changed her life, just as he had said.

Only, was she presented hell, or a new life?
Because....

----------------------------------------------


"My dear wife, I particularly enjoyed those soft cries and croons you prepared last night. Husband wants to eat meat again!"

A handsome man dressed in black robes patted her on the back, softly whispering into her ear. 


That handsome appearance combined with his devilish allure, he would torment her night and day without pause, tethered by a tender string of sweetness.


Definitely in hell. No doubt about it!



-


//Hello! This is another project of mine! This one will be incorporating themes of historical, transmigration, romance, and xianxia themes. Hope you enjoy!

The rest of the day at Dahlia's passes by in a blur. All Adius can see is Hope and home and the package. On the ride back, he's anxious. So anxious that his leg is bouncing and his fingers are tapping obnoxiously on the window. His dad, noticing it all, decides not to comment on it.
He also keeps his words to himself as his son flies from the car before he can even properly park the vehicle. Adius is up the stairs and in his room before he can get through two breaths, his hand searching for the package under his bed not even a moment later.
He doesn't waste any time opening it either. Through his nerves, he manages to carefully tear the top portion of the envelope off and slide the contents out. He tosses the envelope and settles the contents that Hope had left him on his bed.
He doesn't know what to make of it, so he reaches for the thing that might explain everything. A black leather-bound book is what he picks up. The cover is worn and a strip of extra leather is wrapped around several times to hold its contents in place. Adius unwraps it, his hands trembling.
Opening the cover, a woodsy scent immediately envelopes him. It fills the room and him with something warm. He shakes his head and swallows. On the inside of the front cover the number four is written and scratched into the leather. It covers nearly every empty portion of exposed space. His brows furrow, but he flips through a couple more pages, and eventually comes across something that looks a lot like a journal entry.
It's titled Letter to Adonis and dated months ago.
He does the only thing he really can and reads. His eyes follow every twirl and dip and curve that he knows was drawn by Hope's steady hand. And when he finishes that entry he moves on to the next. Questions start to jumble his head and ring in his ears as his eyes trail her words, her thoughts. What hadn't she told him? What could have been so important- so urgent- yet not? 

He flips the page again.
His eyes fill with tears that he refuses to shed. 

His lips tremble but he doesn't acknowledge them.
He reads and he feels her fear, her worry, her love. In her third entry, he can feel that air of whimsical energy that initially drew him to her. She was like a trickster faerie that wanted someone to play with. But in her fourth letter, he feels nothing but fear and anxious energy.
She was scared of something, absolutely terrified if the tone and the shakiness of her writing is anything to go by. His breathing nearly stops as he reads her final line: "don't trust a word out of my mouth" . Rearing back, he whispers to himself, "What the hell?" The tingles shooting up his spine and the goosebumps now on his arms lead him to close the book. 

Hands at his face, he sighs. Absolutely nothing had changed.

Adius kicks off his shoes and draws his legs up to his chest. He rests his head on his knees and closes his eyes. He had hoped the package would shed some light on the situation. He had hoped for answers of some kind, but that obviously isn't what he's getting. He never really got what he wanted when it came to that girl.
She always had a knack for manipulating situations to her liking. Even beyond the grave, she was still getting her way.
As he rubs at his eyes something thuds beside him and he jumps from the bed. Next to where he had sat, the leather book lays open, the pages lifting and flipping in front of his very eyes. They stop at a page about half way through. "Hope?" He calls out quietly. 

The boy receives no response, and instead of taking the rational route and high tailing it straight out of his haunted house, he takes several steps closer to the possessed book. He bends over it and glances over the page. It seems like it lists the steps to something.

Squinting, Adius reads out loud, "Number one, 

He is to thee,
What thou is to me,
A whisper and a spell,
A drop within a well,
A shiver and a drawl,
A sound bouncing from the wall,
A moment then shall pass,
A particle in the glass,
Then the beating of several hearts,
Will beat-- rhythms in each part"
And while he bends over the strange leather book, trying in vain to decipher the rhyming words, that familiar feeling of warmth comes over him. He looks up, and their eyes meet once again. To see her smile is almost heartbreaking. The boy can't even manage to push her name off of his tongue.
Her hand, somehow warm and soft, trails down the side of his face, and he can't help but shut his eyes as he takes in a shaky breath. "You can help me. You can bring me back," She whispers to him.
"But how?" She sits him on the bed and motions to everything around him.
"With this, Adonis. You have almost everything you need. You just have to read." Her eyes turn glassy. "Please. I'm so scared here." The boy grabs at her hand and pulls her to him. She feels so real. How does she feel so real?
"Just... Just tell me what to do, and I'll do it," Is his response.
She starts to tremble in his arms, and he can't bear it. "I was never supposed to die," Hope cries. She sniffs loudly and continues. "But they said that if you do these things on the list, I can come back. I want to come back." 

Confusion floods Adius' veins, but that's nothing new. "What?"
Hope pulls away. "I can come home if everything on this list is completed before-" She suddenly stiffens and looks behind her. She sees something that the boy doesn't. Standing, she rushes out, "Here, take this." She places something sharp and cold into his hand. "As long as you have this, I can find you and you can call me. I have to go."
Corrina leans in, her hair clouding everything around her, and places a kiss on the highest part of Adius' forehead. "Be safe." Then she's gone before he can get another word in.

He sits in silence, his fingers closed over whatever was placed in them and his heart beating painfully. There's this tiny, almost minuscule, part of him that wants to toss everything from that package into a black garbage bag and throw it out of his window. That part wants to go to his computer and erase every picture that he had taken of Hope. 

That part of him wants to backspace every word that he had written about her. It wants to forget that she existed just like everyone else had.
But the larger part, the stupider part, the crazier part, wants lay back on the bed and read through every part of that musty book. It wants to look at every trinket and go over every possibility. It wants to bring her back, it wants her to be remembered.
And so as his phone rings, he answers, "Hey. Yeah I'm fine. Yeah, I opened it. Could you meet me tomorrow? Yeah. Bring a backpack and wear comfortable shoes. Okay, see you soon." And he plans. And he starts to count down the moments until he gets to see his girl again.

She died four months ago.

It was said that she was crossing when the red SUV sped down the road.
It was said that if she had left just three seconds later, the SUV would have passed by.
They said it was an accident. 
But they didn't see what I saw. They didn't say what I said. And it's slowly killing me. The guilt is clawing at my insides like a dying cat.
I was the reason Hope was dead. I drove her to insanity and beyond. So why would she come back and offer me a chance?
A chance to fix everything. 
A chance to bring her back from the dead.
A chance that I simply can't refuse.

 
Ever since his teacher left the school, the large Tasura Academy school of thought also began to crumble and fall apart, splitting into the three main divisions. The Great White Bear, the Black Panther, and The Sabertooth Tiger.
Emin actually still had a senior brother and a junior brother, both of whom lived further away. Unlike him, the two of them had long since started spreading their teachings, and now had students as well as grand-students, holding quite an influence over the local community.
They had also invited him over many times, but he rejected them each time.
As his thoughts wandered over there, Emin couldn’t help but sigh, and looked at Garen beside him.
"Your control is great, that’s the little convenience brought by Master-level precision blueprints. If you’re willing, join my school of thought, and I can help you create a White Bear core totem. Of course, once you decide on a core totem, it’ll be very troublesome later if you want to change. And this way, you’ll have to take responsibility for our school."
Garen did remember hearing about the situation of Emin’s school.
Hearing his teacher’s words, he remained silent, and did not reply immediately.
"When we get back, I’ll start teaching you the three major basic tactics. It’ll probably take a few months’ time, you can consider it carefully in that period of time." Emin knew that this was a troublesome problem as well, and didn’t force it.
************
Upon returning to Emin’s house, Garen first achieved a basic understanding of the information and principles regarding the first tactic, analysis.
After washing up hastily, he returned to his room on the first floor to rest.
The kerosene lamp by the head of his bed burned slowly, emitting a bright yellow light. 
Garen sat by his bedside, rather casually flipping through the large book in his hand. The cover of the book said: Illustrated Encyclopedia of Creatures.
"Once you’ve settled on a core totem, you need to wait for more than five years if you want to change it. At the same time, you need a special ritual and ingredients to disassemble it. It’s very troublesome… but, with a decent core totem, you can have an automatically-reacting Totem Light that can follow you everywhere in life."
He understood the benefits of that. Totem Light that activated of its own accord was enough to match any dangers a Luminarist might face.
Without having to release their totem, they could automatically activate Totem Light to protect themselves at any time and place. This was also the reason Lumimarists could stand high above the rest, and disregard even the strongest normal person.
Because no matter how strong a regular person could get, they wouldn’t be able to break that Totem Light that looked so thin. That’s because attacks without silver would not be able to break the core Totem Light. This was a difference in quality, one that couldn’t be overcome by quantity.
"Only Luminarists with core totems can truly manifest this unbeatable nature of Luminarists, and stand at the peak of mortals." Garen murmured, hesitation in his heart.
Logically speaking, choosing the White Bear would make a good shortcut, but deep inside he also knew too well that compared to those unbelievably strong Luminarists in the future, the White Bear was pathetically weak.
"Whatever, now I’ll have to learn the three major tactics, and then accumulate the relevant knowledge. I’m not like other Luminarists, after regaining my power, I’m already standing at the peak of mortals. It’s the same as being a Master-level fighter in this world. I don’t have to rush in to decide a core totem to protect myself." Garen decided, and rolled into his bed, pulling his covers over himself to rest peacefully.
**********
In the time that followed. Garen learned the principles and structures of basic tactics from Emin every day, as well as how to activate his own appraisal ability.
Just as Emin said, the three major tactics weren’t hard, much less with Garen’s special physical qualities. Even regular Luminarists taking it step by step could learn them.
In that period of time, Garen’s attributes also returned to an average of 2.0 and above. Even his intelligence, his weakest point, rose to 2.0, evidently as a result of constantly using his brain.
With Garen’s undivided concentration and effort, he completely learned the three major tactics -- which were expected to take a few months to learn -- in half a month’s time, and he could use them with unnatural familiarity too. This was a great surprise to Emin, who also realized that as time went on, Garen’s ability to learn seemed to be increasing and speeding up.
Soon, he suggested letting Garen go into the underground book cellar on his own to accumulate knowledge. Those were all non-core books he had collected, mostly about basic totem construction that had become public knowledge.
The way he saw it, the thing Garen lacked now was the accumulation of knowledge, as well as a unit factory that was suitable for him and completely his own. He could create a totem for Garen, but a unit factory was different. If Garen wasn’t willing to inherit his school, then as a teacher in the future, Garen would need to create a unit factory all of his own. That involved a nearly astronomical cost…
　**********
"Now, you’ve gotten the three major tactics down. So all that’s left is to gather your own theoretical knowledge. Only with enough theories can your analysis tactic have enough information to be based on. Now, let’s go into the underground book cellar."
Emin brought Garen to the dark corner behind the stairs.
On the wall behind the stairs, there was a heavy metal door, fastened with a huge lock.
Emi handed the keys over to Garen, and then turned to walk away. He left, as though to discuss something with the little girl Nicole.
Garen held the large palm-sized key, and inserted it lightly into the keyhole. A turn.
With a clack, the large lock bounced open.
Garen pushed the metal door with all his strength. It was pitch black inside.
He walked in, and used a match to light the oil lamp on the wall.
Hiss!
It was strange. In an instant, a row of oil lamps lit up all along the walls of the underground room, forming a bright yellow row of lights.
The first oil lamp seemed to be a trigger, lighting all the oil lamps in the underground cellar at once.
The whole cellar lit up at once.
Garen closed the door behind him, observing the whole cellar quietly.
It was about as big as a futsal court, lined with bookshelves made of black stone. There were a few books scattered here and there.
There was a reading desk and chair next to the shelves, and there were sheafs of loose white paper meant for writing on the desk.
Garen followed the slope downwards, and felt a draft flowing in the book cellar. He walked to the first bookshelf on the furthest left, and glanced at the corner of the shelf. There was a black label stuck there, white words on a black base: Tactic research’.
He looked at the shelf. There were only two thin handbooks. They didn’t even have covers, and were all white.
Shaking his head, Garen walked to the second shelf.
The label said: ‘Creature composition encyclopedias’.
There were quite a few books on this shelf, of various sizes and thicknesses, filling up most half of the shelf. The largest book had pages half a meter wide, and was wrapped in very thick leather. It was like a black shield, leaning by the bottom of the bookshelf.
Garen glanced at the cover of this book: Tasura’s Creatures Illustrated.
He continued on to the third shelf.
The label said: Basic school theories.
There was only one book on this shelf. It was extremely thick, and had a leather-bound cover. It said on top: History of Totem Development.
And then, the fourth and fifth shelves had the same name: ‘Theories and Practical’.
The books there were also all about the Lumminarists’ journeys, experiences, journals and so on.
Garen casually pulled down a book and flipped through it. Each of these books were actually written in unique symbols and words. They were all encoded, and each of them differently. There were thirty-two books in total and in twenty-eight separate coded languages. Unless you knew the key to these, there was no way to read it at all. Only a few journals from recent years weren’t encoded, and these seemed to be talking about other Luminarists.
Garen had no choice but to replace all the books he couldn’t read to their shelves.
Most of the remaining shelves were about the same, including that black leather book that looked like a shield, Tasura’s Creatures Illustrated. This was encoded too, so he could only more or less see the pictures inside, and didn’t understand any of the rest.
He could only read one bookshelf.
It was the second one: ‘Creature composition encyclopedias’.
In this period of time, Emin had taught him his unique keyword, which was just enough to decode most of the books on this shelf.
Garen pulled a book off the shelf. ‘Entomology’, by Emin Kreso… and followed by a long line of names.
He flipped open this book, his brain translating its contents through rapid decoding.
This manner of decoding and translating took a long time, equivalent to the time taken to read two books. And it wasn’t easy either.
Garen slowly translated the words one by one, and the read them together.
The time ticked by. A few hours had passed, but he had only gone through half of the book.
Garen closed his eyes. They were feeling rather sore, so he rested them a bit. And then he continued reading.
His attributes had all reached extremely high levels. Faced with an intelligence of more than 2.0, almost anything he saw could be instantly understood and stored in his brain.
In the meanwhile, Emin did come down to check on him. Upon finding Garen wholly focused on his reading and studies, he went out again, feeling comforted.
That first day, Garen didn’t even finish reading that book on Entology. The book started out simple, but got more complicated as it went, and the more creatures it introduced the more complicated and intricate their systems got. There were also more things for him to remember.
On the second day, Garen continued to read and learn in the cellar. And then the third day, during which he finally finished reading the whole Entomology.
Sitting on the chair, Garen watched the light red skills attribute on his attribute pane shift a little. Light red symbols appeared, and he immediately understood what the symbols meant.
"Requirement to fully comprehend Entomology: Intelligence 1.4 (fulfilled)."
As soon as the symbols appeared, Garen felt the parts where he had been a bit blur about when reading instantly become extremely clear. Any secret parts he hadn’t understood fully before, he also comprehended in an instant.
"The first book…" He let out a long breath, glancing at the few remaining books on the shelf. This included zoology, ornithology, marine biology, microbiology and many other types. There were even more specialized books with details among them, such as ‘Composition of Butterfly-type Insects’.
Garen began to go through the books one by one, day after day, staying in the cellar.
Slowly, the books on the shelf about creature compositions began to lessen, and he piled all the books he had read on the desk.


One moment, Luo Jing was at the brink of death after accidentally touching a power outlet while showering. The next, he was in the body of a man named Garen, with memories of a past he was never a part of flowing into his head. As he slowly gets used to the body of Garen, he begins to explore a planet beyond his own logical comprehension. His journey will see him go from surviving in a planet locked in the 20th century, to wielding secret techniques so powerful that they level cities overnight. However, his journey doesn’t end with Garen. Instead this is but the first of many bodies that Luo Jing will come to wield in his mystical journey between worlds.

Gawain couldn't help but lament at the convenience and miraculous effects of healing spells. This world didn't have any advancement in medicine; they didn't have any cognition of biological infections, human anatomy, cell biology, and similar things. To the commoners, an ordinary wound infection might possibly claim a person's life, but at the same time, the possessors of Holy Light and natural powers were able to use magic to achieve unimaginable 'healing'. As long as one could afford the cost, a person who was only left with a dying breath would be able to fully recover in a few minutes and avert death.
The Kant territory didn't have any Druids but had a few Holy Light Clerics, and one of them would live in the castle's chapel for the entire year. He was also the feudal lord's religious advisor and also had the responsibility to maintain the health of the feudal lord. After receiving the servant's timely notification, the Holy Light Cleric arrived at Victor Kant's study room in a short time. The Cleric then used Holy Light spells to rescue the old viscount who was on the verge of death.
Gawain stood by the side and observed the busy work of that Cleric. The Druid medicine had already replenished the urgently required vitality for Victor Kant; the Knight's 'Blood Boost' had supported this vitality and rapidly replenished this viscount's loss of blood. Right now, the healing Holy Light had covered up the wound. The Cleric then prayed sincerely as he carefully grasped the hilt of the dagger before calling out the name of the God of Holy Light and rapidly pulled out the weapon.
The Holy Light immediately surged and allowed the wound to rapidly close up while nursing the damaged flesh and bones inside the wound. During the entire process, the Holy Light Cleric constantly prayed to the God of Holy Light to ensure that the healing effects on the Viscount didn't stop midway.
Gawain nodded silently and thought he had finally seen a normal Holy Light Cleric. How could a Cleric actually obtain the skills of Shoryu Bone Setting and the One-inch Sober Fist?[1]
The healing process was probably going to last for a period of time. While the servants gathered around their master, Gawain started to look around and conducted his own inspection of every corner in the study room.
No one had any suspicion of his behavior as the servants assumed that the Duke was actually inspecting the murder scene. Butler Carter who might have possibly stopped Gawain had already become the guilty party and had fled this place.
Gawain's vision was shifting around this sealed-up study before he frowned.
This place wasn't suitable to be a study. It might be on a high level in the castle, but it was an environment with rather bad lighting. The ancient castle's narrow and unfitting windows were especially prominent as the entire room only had one narrow window. Even during the brightest time of the day, it was hard for the room to have plenty of illumination. The magic crystal lamps that were embedded in the walls had an obvious problem. Even though the lamps were lit up, the room was enveloped in a hazy and dusky atmosphere.
No, it might not be a problem with the magic crystal lamps…
Gawain's line of sight fell on one of the lamps. The lamp's light was actually very bright, but the radiance seemed to be restrained by some force; therefore, it was unable to illuminate the room.
The friendly and cheerful Viscount Victor would normally work in such an eerie study?
Gawain arrived at the side of the room where there was a massive bookshelf leaning against the wall. It was filled with a huge quantity of exquisite books with thick covers that were arranged neatly and orderly. Many of the books' spines were inlaid with golden or silver ornaments, which was the classic trait of a noble's book collection.
In Gawain's opinion, it had multiple functions. The book could be read when it was required for the intellectual contents, and it could also be used to smash someone when required for defense. If the clan declined, the gold on the book covers could be used as funds to rebuild the clan. Apart from the fact that the books might fall off the shelf and cause paralysis when reading, these heavy and exquisite books were simply the example of 'knowledge is power and money'.
In reality, this era had plenty of books that were heavy and exquisite. They were originally 'luxury goods' that the wealthy could possess. Sometimes, the number of books in a castle's collection would directly reveal the foundation and wealth of a noble even if they could hardly read the books in a single lifetime.
But Viscount Kant obviously wasn't collecting these books to hold up his reputation. Most of the books' covers were already worn and deformed to a certain degree. This was a sign that it had been frequently flipped through. Some of the book covers even had the marks of repair that was done with glue, leather, and golden or silver leaves. This was a behavior that would only be seen in book lovers.
However, when Gawain looked through the books, he noticed that the marks of repair seemed to have been done a long time ago, and those golden or silver leaves had already changed in color. The leather pasted on it would also have many abrasions, and there wasn't a single book on the shelf that was even slightly new.
It seemed that at some time, Viscount Victor Kant seemed to have lost interest in these 'ordinary books'?
Then what was he reading? The sorcery books that were given by the Eternal Sleepers?
Gawain then turned to a small table behind the study table. The table was stacked with some documents and files that were not being used for the moment. Gawain's eyes were suddenly attracted by an unfolded piece of paper.
On it were some careless writings of recent transactions, and they seemed to be raw data that weren't recorded into the accounts in time. Among the list, there was a particularly prominent record, and it was the remuneration for a certain mercenary group and the deposit for the next operation. Under the contents for the job, it was written with 'collection of raw material'.
Was this a record of the hiring of mercenaries to capture refugees? Evidence?
Gawain frowned, and just as he was walking closer to the piece of paper, he suddenly heard a commotion from the servants at the back. Additional radiance entered this slightly dusky room.
Gawain turned around and was rather surprised to see that Viscountess Lilith Kant was standing at the entrance. The sickly madam was so skinny that she was like a shadow. She was holding onto a portable lamp that she probably used to run from the north tower all the way here. Her eyes were widened as she saw everyone crowding around Victor Kant, while her face was filled with fear and astonishment.
"What happened!?" Lilith exclaimed before she stuttered. "Who—who can tell me… Victor, he… What happened?!"
"Madam, Madam, please don't be alarmed. My lord is fine." The Holy Light Cleric quickly stood up and said, "Thank the God of Holy Light's blessings. My lord merely suffered a physical wound and is only unconscious due to shock. Duke Gawain fed my lord with medicine promptly, and with my healing spell, my lord is now safe."
While speaking, the Holy Light Cleric raised his hand and attempted to summon a ray of Holy Light to pacify the madam's fright. But Lilith Kant simply ignored the Cleric and staggered as she ran to Victor's side. She checked to see that Victor was indeed breathing before she let out a breath of relief and looked at Gawain. "Thank you… Thank you for saving him."
"It is something I should do." Gawain nodded slightly before looking at the surrounding servants. "It is too congested here. Your master needs fresh air. Apart from the personal servants, the rest of you are dismissed."
Gawain wasn't the master of this castle, but when he gave the instructions, no one opposed. Most of the servants left the room immediately, and after ensuring that the healing spell had already taken effect and that the Viscount didn't require any more spells, the Holy Light Cleric had also dismissed himself.
Viscount Kant's wound had already healed. A high-ranked male servant was wiping the blood off the Viscount's body, while the viscount gradually awakened.
His line of sight focused for a moment before he clearly saw the situation in the room. He saw Gawain first and was stunned for a moment. Immediately after, he saw Lilith who stood in front of him and immediately got nervous. "My love! Why are you here?!"
"I… I heard that something happened in the castle…" Lilith Kant appeared to be rather nervous as she said, "Then I ran over to see you…"
"I am fine." Viscount Kant used some effort to wave his hand as an indication for the personal servants to be dismissed. He then attempted to stand up in a weak manner but failed after trying his best. Lilith immediately stepped forward to support him, but he grabbed Lilith's arm and said, "You don't have to worry. Instead, I am very worried that you are here."
"I—I am okay." The viscountess spoke frantically and turned to nod at Gawain. "The Duke rescued you in time and even called for the Cleric. My love, what exactly happened?"
"Thank you for helping." Victor Kant immediately thanked Gawain and frowned while he slowly inhaled. His wound had recovered, but the pain of the dagger that was stabbed into his chest seemed to be lingering at his heart and lungs. "It's Carter. Carter suddenly attacked me, and I was stunned. He seemed to have changed into a completely different person, and when he stabbed me, he was also saying something strange. Saying that the castle has an intruder and that something must be protected… I am now completely at a loss!"
Immediately after, the Viscount suddenly recalled something. "That's right. Carter… Where did he run to? Did he attack anyone else?"
Just as Gawain wanted to reply, a shadow suddenly took form in the study. Amber's voice echoed from the shadows. "He escaped."
When the half-elf young lady appeared, her body was almost completely drenched by the rain. Her long ears shook in the air (probably to shake off the water?) before she turned to look at Gawain. "That old butler definitely isn't a normal person! I saw him running on the top of the castle, and it looked like he was flying. His figure would vanish for a moment before reappearing. I used Shadow Walk but was still unable to catch up to him… I pursued him to the stables at the back of the castle, but he vanished without a trace, and I couldn't find him anymore."
Gawain was shocked. "There is someone that you cannot trace?"
"Yes, that person is at least a half-god." Amber spoke with confidence, "I am the Goddess of Night's chosen one after all…"
Gawain treated it as though he didn't hear the statement.
"He escaped and will probably become a threat." Gawain looked at the Viscount and Viscountess and said, "I advise you to increase the defenses of the castle."
"That is for sure." Viscount Kant nodded forcefully.
Lilith had also nodded, but she suddenly held her head while her body started to sway slightly as though she had lost support.
Viscount Kant instantly turned nervous. "My love?"
"I… I am a little dizzy." Lilith held her head and spoke with a little agony, "I am not feeling well…"
"You have left your room for too long!" Viscount Kant sounded stern as he said, "Hurry up and return to rest. Don't worry. I will send twice as many soldiers to guard the north tower. Once I feel better, I will go over to be with you."
"Okay… Okay." Lilith Kant swayed as she stood up and complied with her husband's arrangement in a daze. She then lifted the portable lamp and walked slowly to the entrance of the study.
[1] This is actually referring to Wright Awiken


During Gawain transmigration, a little problem occurs.
After hovering in the sky above the land of a strange world for over hundreds of thousands of years, he realizes that perhaps his transmigration is completed by acquiring a physical body.
Never did he imagine that he would have to guide the body out of a coffin after going through great difficulties to obtain it, only to come face-to-face with his two extremely shocked great-great-great-great... great-granddaughters, and also—
Be thrust into a world that's the verge of its era’s end.

" Without a sigh , his sword , the brave man draws ; 
And asks no omen but his country's cause " 
----Alexander Pope

Northborn Kingdom
Frontier City of Vigan
Death Valley

     A great battle is about to unfold in the historical valley just in front of the City of Vigan. Countless soldiers: mages, archers and mercenaries alike face off in the middle of the valley with contradicting reasons, for one , to protect their homeland, for the other, to establish power and dominance. From numbers to equipment, the defending soldiers of the City of Vigan cannot compare to the imperial legion of the Byzantine Empire. Yet, in the faces of the defending soldiers, though filled with the sense of grave danger, there is hope and bravery. Even though they face against a great storm, with the chances of complete annihilation as clear as the sunlight that shines through the whole battlefield, they did not falter nor cower under the might of the so called strongest army of the continent, because they know there is still hope and that hope lies in a man each one of them treats as their nephew. Yes, the son of their deceased commander whom went through life and death, through thick and thin with every one of them. They know their "nephew" is coming.

   With their morale soaring to the sky, they fight with all their might to hold on until help arrives, until he arrives. With mages and archers firing arrows and casting spells towards the enemy , and warriors engaged in close combat with their swords , with each side taking countless casualties, you can see how bloody the battle is. With dwindling numbers , the defending soldiers are still fighting with all their might, still carrying that sliver of hope as they face off against the enemy. Then, on the pale faces of the defending soldiers, you can see a glint, a smile. 

   At the middle of the battlefield, suddenly, a single strand of lightning streaked and tore through the sky as it hit the ground. As the dust settled, you can see a man clad in shining leather armor, plated with gold and carved with intricate designs of draconian scales , a perfect armor for someone who prefers agility and flexibility rather than defense. In his left hand is a silver one-handed sword, with a luster so bright and exquisite, and in its handle is an elegantly carved dragon. In his right hand is an ancient tome, with inscriptions etched on its cover, an aura of archaicness and killing intent covering its entirety. Seeing this man brought fear on the enemy, and with the killing intent coming from him and that book made their hair stand on end, but to the defending soldiers, hope is what he brought.

"Uncles, sorry for being late, let me take it from here. " His words echoed throughout the whole battlefield as the defending soldiers carried their fallen comrades and retreated to the safety of their fortress, not even having the hesitation to not follow his orders, fully trusting his skill to take care of the enemy.

With his comrades already a safe distance away, he flicked his right hand as the archaic book in his hand started to emit a buzzing sound, accompanying it are the screams of the enemies as lightning arced through their bodies. Then, his left hand shuddered as a light suddenly shines at the tip of his sword, illuminating the entire battlefield, bringing with it a comfortable feeling to the people of the fortress, healing their wounds, even saving those at the brink of death. With a flash, he moves through the enemy's ranks, his sword enveloped in lightning , the ancient book giving off surges of scorching fire , killing off every person who comes on his way. Geysers and lava constantly coming out of the ground from where he stepped as the enemy's mages cast their spells to counterattack, compromising the safety of their fellow soldiers, a sacrifice they're willing to make. Yet, not a dent is seen on his leather armor, still shining in magnificence as an elemental armor completely made of water covers him.

   With their dwindling numbers, the enemy starts to feel fear, starts to cower and retreat from this monster. With a sound of a trumpet blowing , rows and rows of soldiers scurries to the opposite direction, trying to preserve their lives. They came with a humongous number of a million soldiers, leaving with only just 50,000. A huge number of casualties and a dropping morale is what their leaving with.

  Cheers started to ring out in the fortress as another explosion sounds out in the middle of the battlefield, losing the trace of the man which have done this miracle.

As a child, he grew up to idolize his father, a renowned warrior who sacrificed his life for his country. When he grew up, he chose to unsurprisingly, follow on his footsteps. 

Join Stern as he ventures the desolate and dangerous world, fighting against mythical beasts in search for strength.

Kobold woke, confused as to what was going on. The last thing he could remember was... Nothing!
It would appear that he has amnesia. He opened his eyes and was only met with darkness. He let his eyes adjust for a second only to realise he was in a cavern filled with... Goblins!

This is horrible! Goblins?! I HATE golbins! Their green and atrocious and small and disgusting little creatures! What is going on?!

He got up and took a better look around. There were many huts around the cavern and the place was lit by torches. He couldn't make out the number of huts, but there were a lot. All around there were goblins walking, tending to their own affairs' but occasionally a fight would break out and everyone would just keep walking. Goblins were very greedy natured creatures as the cause of these fights would often be over valuables.

The goblins all were dressed in leather shirts and loinclothes. There were some lucky ones who wore shoes or braces. They also varied in color despite what Kobold thought. There were green, orange, and yellow. 

He looked at his own appearance and saw that he was dressed in only a shirt and immediately felt embarrassed. He looked around to see if anyone was paying him any mind but saw that none of the little green creatures were staring at his green parts. He turned to looked around to find somewhere to hide or something to cover himself with. He saw a hut with an open door and immediately rushed in.

Once inside he closed the door and inspected his surroundings. It seemed to be deserted but there was still rough looking furniture there. There was a long table with two chairs, a bed in the back with tattered covers and a pillow, and several crates scattered around. 

Kobold was still getting used to being to being so short but thanked the makers for everything being fun sized. He went to look through the crates and found a book, shoes, braces, surprisingly a pair of leather pants, and three rings which were in a small jewerly box.

He quickly dressed himself except for the rings and inspected the book. It had no cover so he open it up only to realise it was written in the tounge of the goblins.  What was suprising was that he could understand it. He read the book until he was finished with it, undisturbed. As he finished the book words popped up in his vision.
_______________________________________
System unlocked
Class unlocked
You have learnt a new ability: Lesser Shadowball
-----------------------------------------
"Oh?" Kobold was suprised.
_________________________________________
Name: Kobold
Race: Cave Goblin
Class: Necromancer
Level: 1
Stats: Strength 1, Dexterity 2, Endurance 3, Intelligence 5, 
[ A lesser goblin with a chance at becoming great}
---------------------------------------------------------------
Kobold learned his name.
"Hmm Kobold is it? Interesting. Although I'm a disgusting goblin theres not much I can do about it." He said with an uneasy face.

He looked picked the rings up and touched them, one by one.
___________________________________________________________
Ring of Lesser spell casting. Lowers the time it takes to chant spells
Ring of Invisibility. Can turn the user invisible for 20 minutes
Ring of Lesser Summoning. Can be upgraded with exp. Allows the user to summon Imps from the void.
------------------------------------------------------------
"Very interesting. It would appear I'm in an rpg of sorts. The ability to level up. I must become strong so no one can jeopardize my life."

He noticed a trapdoor in the floor of the hut. He walked over and opened it, revealing a ladder that led down.
"Welp. Here goes nothing."

Kobold descended down until he reached the bottom. He was in another cavern, although it was small. The walls were a deep, dark grey instead of the lighter stone of the cavern outside. There were chains along the walls, where skeletons of goblins hung. There were pits of fire that were an eerie green that lit the room. Kobold could feel the dark energy radiate from these fires. As he walked past the chained up skeletons he followed the trail of fire until it led him to a chamber.

Once inside the chamber he noticed a black staff made of dark wood with the skull of a human resting at the top. At the end there was a sharp tip. The staff was standing upright on a pedestal. At the bottom of the pedestal laid the corpse of a dark grey goblin. He was in black hooded robes.

Kobold approached the pedestal and touched the corpse and touched it when the interface popped up again.
____________________________________________________
Name: Lazure Fright
Class: Necromancer
Condition: Dead
Level: 12
-------------------------------------------------------
"Ew thats disgusting." Kobold remarked.

The moment he took his hand off of the body, it turned to ash and flew towards the staff, which emitted a dark green glow. Kobold furrowed his brows as he organized his thoughts.

First of all, that body just turned to ash right in front of my eyes! Am i going crazy? 

He was wary of the staff but approached it anyways. It didn't appear to change as he drew closer to it. He gripped it and the interface popped up again.
_________________________________________
Staff of Lazure Fright
Stat increase: 5 intelligence, 5% increase to all stats of raised undead
[ The staff of a goblin necromancer. The goblin died of unknown causes, although he was a prominent necromancer.] 
------------------------------------------

Kobold was very concerned now.
"Will I end up like him? Oh god this is horrible!" he exclaimed.
He was scared for his life at this point. With all that had happened thrown in his face, he promptly passed out.

Chapter Five

The Things We Treasure

Darkness.

All she could see was darkness. Darkness and warmth. It filled her with a slow and sweet feeling, one she did not remembering feeling in a long time. A moment later, her sleepy brain realized that she was wrapped in a blanket, on a bed of some sort. Turning her head, she tried to untangle herself. Briar moved, her side hurting as she attempted to switch sides. It stung as she stretched, causing her breath to hitch and her form to spasm.

Her body hit something. Something warm. There was somebody next to her. Her breath caught in her throat, scared. Silently, she poked her head out from under the covers, and peeked at the body next to her.

The cloak covered him from head to toe, shrouding his features. Fear caught her again. Quickly she pulled her head back under the covers, trying in some infantile way to protect herself from this unknown man.

There is a strange man laying in bed with me. Laying in bed WITH ME! Many, many scenarios ran through her mind, playing out kidnappings and murders, and wild horrors that could never happen. Why had this happened? Exactly what happened? How am I supposed to explain this to Adam? Briar gasped. Adam. It came back to her as memories are oft to do, in flashes. She remembered that she had led her down to the sewers, he had lead her on some twisted game of hide and seek, and then he... and then he stabbed her. Wait.. what? Briar remembered, her eyes narrowing in anger. The bastard STABBED me! What the hell was he thinking! Wait until I get my hands on him, he would beg for mercy. That was something she was damn sure of.

Frustrated and trying not to cry she rolled over, forgetting the pain such movements caused. She hissed in pain and clutched her side, writhing under the covers. Above her, a soft voice like a whisper echoed. "The wounds should not be causing her such pain still. The anesthetic in that poultice was quiet potent..." the man next to her sat up, causing the bed to sink under his weight. "Perhaps I need to apply more salve to the wound." Silently he got up from the bed, and Briar heard him messing around with something close to her head. A quiet, "Ah, yes." was followed by the unmistakable sound of someone approaching, a click following each footfall of her capture.

Closing her eyes, she feigned sleep as well as she could. The covers were removed, their weight lifting from her body, silk and cotton unwrapping from around her. She felt her body being moved, smooth and gentle movements forced her over on her back. A strange sensation hit her every time the man tried to move her, He must have been using something like a tool to turn her over. The edges of the tool felt hard, and almost like cartilage.

Finally on her stomach, she chanced opening her eyes just a slit. Now that the covers had been removed, she saw what she had thought as a bed was actually a pile of old cushions. They seemed to be stacked on one another balanced on a rug and an old futon. A musty smell came from them, mingled with the odor of fresh flowers. Three old and torn comforters adorned it, making it seem old and almost elegant.

Across the pile of cushions she saw the rest of the room on her side. The walls were cement, and may have once been bare. Now they were adorned by curtains and draperies that reached the floor. None of them matched, some shorter than others and most were somewhat full of holes and rips. Shelves constructed from milk cartons, and planks of wood placed between cinder blocks were full of leather bound and paper back books and against every wall. The massive library spilled onto the floor, papers, pencils and pens joining the pile. Candles, hundreds of them were set on top of the books, lit and lighting the room almost as if a lamp was on. A circular doorway at the end of the lead to a room blocked from her view by another set of drapes.

Above her, the man once again laid the odd tool on her back. This time it hooked itself under the bandages that adorned her side. Briar felt the cloth tighten for but a moment, then loosen as they ripped, falling from her side and onto the bed seconds later. Talking to himself in that melodic whisper he used, the man talked to no one in particular. His voice was that of honey and gravel, almost a whisper.

"This should do it. All it needed was a little adjustment." a warm sensation came over her as she felt something sticky and smooth being poured onto her back, moving forward and downward as the sensation covered her entire body. Once again the tool touched her skin, only now it moved back and forth, rubbing the delightfully warm substance on her back. Clacking sounded as the warmth spread even further, and Briar groggily guessed there were many of the odd tools he used tied together.

Drug dulling her senses and unable to control herself, Briar sighed, placing her hands under her chin. "That feels so good." she muttered lowly. Suddenly the hands stopped, and the warm sensation no longer radiated down her back. Briar turned her head, to take in her savior. He stood tall in the rounded room, larger than anyone she had seen in many years. A tattered and battered cloak enshrouded him from head to toe, the hood shading his features from her. One single long deadlock lay in the opening of the hood, as if he had hastily put the hood back on his head.

"The pain has gone away." she sat up, moving slowly as to not bring the pain back on herself. "What did you do?" There was no reply. He just stood there, facing her, silent and stoic. Growing irritated, Briar looked down and saw that she was naked except for her panties. "You undressed me?" she asked, a smirk tugging on her lips. A blush crept up her face for some unknown reason, and lingered even as the man left the room. He had turned abruptly from her, not speaking a word and walked out into the room beyond the drapes. Passing silently through them, he returned shortly.

In the mans hands were a set of folded clothes, a green t shirt adorned with some high schools mascot, and a large pair of sweatpants stained by some long forgotten accident. He tossed her the new clothing, and turned his back. "I shall await your consent to return. I wish to.." he paused. That whispering voice he had contained some hoarseness, as if it was barely used. "examine you better. Now that you are awake, my questions can receive answers." Again he slipped through the drapes, and the odd clicking noise followed, leaving her to her own devices.

*****************************

Slipping one leg into the pants provided for her, Briar decided to have a look about the room she currently found herself. She pulled the pants on the rest of the way, and threw on the large t shirt she had also been graciously given. Padding along slowly, she looked at the lay out of the room.

It was larger than she had expected. The whole room must have been round, and by the fact that it all seemed to be concrete, she deducted it must be an abandoned part of the sewer tunnels. Gripping the shelves that lined the entire room, she hobbled her way over to the far end.

There sat a table top, its leg having long ago been broken off. It sat on top of two cinder blocks, and was surrounded by more cushions. A chipped tea kettle rested on a torn piece of cloth, accompanied by a set of chipped matching china. Not far from there, a small pit had been made in the cement, and piled with ash.

Smiling, she turned toward the small pit. "That must be the stove." Above it, a spit sat, a grill placed over the top of the pit. Briar continued around the room. In another corner sat a drawer. She looked behind her, to make sure he was not there, and pulled one of the drawers open. Inside she found pants, many of them ripped and stained. Jeans, all of them. Next drawer held shirts, each one with out sleeves, and torn in places as if by claws. Not thinking much of it, she continued to dig through his clothes. After going through the underwear, she was interrupted by a soft knock on the cement wall across the room.

"Are you ready?" the voice of her savior called roughly.

"Just a moment." she called, shutting the drawer and hobbling as fast as she could back to the bed.

Once she reached it, she took some deep breaths. The room was large, but she should not have been this winded. Her wounds must be worse than she thought. After she had caught her breath, she called to him.

"Okay, come in." The drapes parted, and he entered, cloak raising slightly. He must have seen her labored breathing for he disappeared in a flash, and reappeared next to her.

"What happened?" he began to move her, checking her vitals. "Why are you breathing so hard?" Briar shook her head, too winded to talk.

Tentatively, he lowered his cloaked head to her chest.

"Wha.." she gasped out, but relaxed when he only placed his head above her heart. For a moment, he listened, then spoke.

"Your heartbeat seems fine. Maybe changing winded you." he spoke more to himself than anyone else. Briar once again, noticed the hair falling from the cloaks hood. Long black dreads, shiny in the candle light hung from the hood as if part of the darkness inside the cloak itself.

He stood up, and stepped behind her. She felt the bed shift under his added weight, and she shifted as well.

"I am going to look at your back. Tell me when this hurts." she nodded, and her shirt was lifted to her shoulders. That odd tool was once again pressed against her back, pressing around where she guessed the wound was.

"Any pain yet?" he asked, breath on her neck. It smelt of fresh fruit. She shook her head, and he continued prodding. What is with this guy? Briar stared at the concrete floor more confused than ever. One moment he is cold as this fucking floor, then he is checking up on me? What the hell is his problem? On he went, for minutes, or what seemed like minutes. Finally deciding she could no longer take the silence, Briar tried to start a conversation.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking around.

His hood moved slightly. The man remained silent for a few moments. Briar was about to re ask the question when his soft voice reached her ear. "In my home."

"Is it a sewer pipe, or an old tunnel?"

"Yes."

"Which one?" she asked, not taking the aversion lightly.

"The right one." he chuckled, thoroughly enjoying messing with her.

"Okay, whatever you say."She thought for a moment on something else to talk about, then decided to be polite. "My name is Briar. Actually, its Briar Gantz, but everyone calls me Briar."

"Pleasure to meet you." he continued prodding her back once again.

"So..."she smiled again. "What's your name?"

His prodding stopped, for but a moment, then continued. "The wound seems to have taken to the salve quiet well." his tool now prodded her spine, going up and down, causing her to shiver. "No nervous damage. Good response."

Noting that he did not want to talk about the name subject, she attempted to change the subject again.

"I see you like to read."

Again the odd tool he used to prod her back stood still for a moment. Glancing backwards Briar saw the hood was facing away from her, staring at the shelves against one wall.

"Oh, yes." she could almost hear him smile. "Books are one of my few pleasures down here." Briar looked at the hood, noticing that he wore it down over his face even when not looking at her, as if ashamed of his face. She turned her head back around to face the wall, now wanting to talk about books.

"Really? What do you like to read?"

Again he said nothing for a few moments. In her peripheral vision Briar saw the hood jerk back to face her. Silence ruled the room once again.

After a few minutes of tense quiet, the man spoke again.

"Why do you want to know? Going to make fun of a book worm hermit are you?" his soft whisper of a voice held a very harsh venom to it.

Briar was taken aback. How dare he think something like that of her! She was trying to be nice for gods sake! Biting her lip, she forced herself to stay calm.

"I used to read a lot as a kid. Then, I just sort of had no time for it." she shrugged, brushing off bringing up her past. That little girl was long since dead.

No one spoke for a moment. Briar wondered if this was even worth it. The man did not seem to want to talk.

"Dickens, Shakespeare, Stephen King, Koontz. As of late though, I have had this fascination with Holly Black's faerie world. It is quite intriguing." his voice seemed calmer, less accusing. Yet Briar could still feel the mistrust mixed amongst the shyness.

Briar nodded, sensing that this subject seemed to be one he would answer her about, she continued. "Adam did not like to read, and most of my money went to food, and rent, so I have not read a good book in a long time."

Again, the tool stopped, then began its movements again. Nervousness showing in his voice, he spoke.

"You are not well enough to walk. I would prefer it if you would stay here so I may monitor your wounds." he cleared his throat. "All my books are yours as long as you stay here."

Excited, Briar jolted upright, clapping. The pain, harsh as a shot in the gut, shot through her back, and she doubled over. Gently, she was pulled back up right.

"You would do well not to move too much." his voice was right in her ear, something in his voice causing her to shiver again.

She nodded. "Thanks for letting me stay." He got off the bed, heading to one of the shelves. Returning, she saw he had a book. The black of the cloak obscured her view of his hands, and the book landed next to her.

Briar leaned over, and picked it up. Little scratches no deeper than a needles width ran vertically across the front and back. She ran one hand over it's dusty skin, feeling the age of this book. A delightfully dusty smell, one of attics and hidden ancient knowledge hit her as she turned the book around and around in her hand. The leather bound cover had its title embellished in gold leaf. "The Picture of Dorian Gray." she read aloud.

"It is one of my favorites." he turned to leave, but stopped. For a moment he stood still, then a sigh escaped him once again, and he continued."If it is not yet known to you, you are residing in my bed." a sigh escaped lips hidden beneath the hood. One cloak sleeve gestured to the pile of cushions and blankets. "I feel I must tell you that I slept beside you last night. If it bothers you, then I shall find other sleeping quarters."

Briar shook her head. "No. You can stay."

He nodded, and exited the room. Putting herself in a more comfortable position, Briar opened the cover of the book. Before the main title of the story, written on the back of the front cover sat a small inscription half faded by age. Quietly she read off the words, one fingernail tracing the swirling handwriting across the page. " To my darling Enoch. May your days be peaceful in such restless times." There had once been a name signing the book, giving it an identity, but time and fate had forever smudged that identity beyond comprehension. Carefully flipping to the first page, Briar set to reading the story of vain Mr. Gray. The studio was filled with the rich odor of roses, She looked down the page, following the tale of such a divine sitting room. A sound from the doorway took her attention from the text. The cloaked man had poked his head through the drapes.

"My name is Dais, Dais De Beaumont." as quickly as he had spoken it, his head disappeared behind the drapes once again.

"Dais De Beaumont." she breathed, falling back, the Picture of Dorian Gray gripped in one hand.

Every generation has its Beauties and its Beast's. Yet, not ALL endings are happily ever after, and not every Beast gets its Rose.. At least that's the way i see it.
~ Dais De Beaumont

I stand my ground, ready for battle. "We just want you, Alíce." He says, moving closer. I throw a knife at his knee, causing him to fall to his knees. "No. I am not yours." I growl, yanking my knife out of his knee. He groans painfully, swearing wildly "Shoot him." he instructs painfully, pointing at James. I run to him, pushing him out of the way. I stop the bullet, it helplessly falling to the ground. More bullets followed, making me lose count. I sigh and stand in front of my group, putting my hands up. I make a black force field, saving them from the bullets. I am starting to lose strength. I groan wearily, pushing more force. "Alice! Stop it, your hurting yourself." James cried. I am almost out of power. I drop my hands, falling to the ground. You are probably confused, as though I just passed out. This is our story.

  I woke up with a start. I sigh and sit up, throwing the covers off. I had to go to that industry that they call 'school'. It has been centuries since I have been to school. I am most educated, though. I stand up, walk to the bathroom, and take a quick shower. I come out with a towel around my body and a towel in my hand, drying my hair. I quickly dry off and walk to my closet, opening it. My closet is a walk-in closet. It has many accessories such as; two- pieces, leather pants, black jeans, and sweaters. I do not wear dresses. Only if I have to, and that is rare. I put on black jeans and a black sweater that says 'VICIOUS' in gold. I put my black boots with heels on, making my favorite clacking noise. I brush my hair-which is to the middle of my neck.- and place a black rose on the side and grab my phone and keys, applying lip gloss to my lips. As I walk out, I swiftly grab my leather jacket off of my office chair.  I rub down the stairs, slipping my jacket on. I grab my coffee cup from the kitchen table. I walk quickly to the couch, snatching my bookbag off of it. I walk outside , hit with the smell of strawberries. I smile slightly, jumping in my Volvo. It is a black color, my favorite. I drive off, ready for everything.

  I arrive at the school, parking my car next to a red Volvo, Yasmin's. Yasmin has been  my best friend for centuries. We both turned at midnight, the time of the wolves. Which makes me a hybrid. I slowly get out of my car, checking my surroundings. "Alíce! Over here." I heard yasmin say, quietly. I turn my head to her car, which she is in with Peta. Peta was her lover when she was human. Apparently, when she died and became a vampire, he wanted to be with her. I smile and walk over to her, hugging her. "Hey, for eternity?" I say. "In maturity." she replies. "We are family in life and death." we finished in usion. It was a phrase we made up when we were little. It meant that "No matter what I will always be by your side." I have missed her, terribly. "What is this industry?" I ask as we walk in the 'double doors', as they call them. She laughed and showed me where the office was. "Dinner on me?" I invited.
"Yes,please" we laughed, hugging each other. I quietly opened the office door, unsure what to do. "Come in." she assured as she ruffled her papers. I came in and sat in the nearest chair to the door. "Wait one minute" she said, looking at papers. I took a book out of my bookbag, reading quietly. My book was a supernatural one. It was about vampires.A boy walked in, sitting next to me. I read on to a description about a man named James Stark, who wore bright clothes. I read more and then looked at the boy. "Dear god.." I mumbled, surprised. This boy was the man in the description! "Hey, I'm James Stark." he greeted, smiling brightly at me. I nodded and played with my hair. My rose fell and he caught it, holding it out while looking intensely at me. I gently took it, our hands brushing. I glance at him, catching him glance at me. He looked away, blushing. I laughed, leaning closer to him. "First, you become my friend." I teased.

Alice Smith reads books every day. It's what keeps her calm. Sometimes, she can't get control. Somehow when she wakes up the next morning, her favorite character is laying next to her. He is also intensely staring at her. He states he needs her help to save his world. She is a complete badass. He is a gentle and loving person. How will they fight the same battle?

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