[System Notice: Soul Stabilization in Progress…]
[Stability: 42% → 45%]
[New Anchor Detected: "Elowen, Sarah"]
[Warning: Soul Fragmentation still critical. Risk of Descent remains.]
Arthur sat on the edge of his bed, the last echoes of the System's voice fading into the stale air of Dormitory 7C.
His fingers trembled slightly as they hovered above the notebook he had taken from Valen's desk drawer. The pages were half-filled with jagged symbols, half-formed theories, and desperate scribbles. There was no method—only survival.
A mirror of the soul that had once occupied this body.
"I was weak," Arthur murmured.
Then he frowned.
"...No. He was."
The distinction was growing sharper now. The fractured memories were no longer flooding in waves but trickling—slow, poisonous drips that tainted thought and twisted certainty. He could see the moment Valen first stepped into this dorm, the moment he hid under the blankets while others laughed in the halls.
But he could also remember the night he—Caelum—debated rune logic with Archmage Belcrest over firewine beneath the stars.
He was both.
He was neither.
[System Advisory: Mental Divergence Risk — High]
[Initiate Focus Protocol?]
"No," Arthur whispered.
"I'll anchor myself. My way."
▣▣▣
Morning – Classroom Wing, Archive Level
Mist still clung to the outer walkways, making the glass bridges between towers slick and treacherous. The early morning lectures were sparsely attended—only the obsessives, the desperate, and the damned arrived before sunbreak.
Arthur was one of them.
Not because he wanted to impress.
Because he needed answers.
[Side Quest Progress: "Echo's Path" — Archive Access Initiated]
The doors to the Lesser Archive were open, but barely attended. A single apprentice scribe dozed behind the desk, runic ink smudging the side of his face.
Arthur slipped past.
The shelves were tall, iron-bound, and ice cold. Dust clung to everything. Wards flickered faintly on the older scrolls—protection against decay, tampering, theft. But not truth.
He followed the memory. Not his own, but Valen's—a fleeting trace of fear and hope that had led him here once before.
He found the tome.
"Genealogies and Graves: Lineages of the Mana-Bound Houses."
A thick, blood-red book.
His fingers hesitated.
Then turned the page.
Valen's name was there, buried beneath the records of low-tiered cadet branches. The discarded heir of one of the 'Divine Families' The Valen family—no political power, once a genius... but now a forgotten madman, only a name with a title too thin...
That explained the beatings.
The mockery.
The indifference of the staff.
He was nobody right now. No power.
But he was still a Valen.
And someone had still feared him enough to kill him.
▣▣▣
Later That Day – Practice Hall G
Arthur stood at the edge of the dueling circle. The scent of ozone clung to the air from previous spell casts. Chalk lines sizzled with ambient mana, marking the boundaries of the warded arena.
His opponent sneered.
"Look who thinks he can fight now," Drel Moreck spat, cracking his knuckles. A fourth-year with the body of a brawler and the mind of a drainpipe.
Arthur said nothing.
He let the instructor count down.
Three.
Two.
One.
Drel launched forward with a Flamebind spell, the glyphs barely stabilized, fueled more by anger than form. Arthur moved sideways—not with speed, but with memory. Every step was already calculated. He'd trained dozens of mages once. Taught them precision.
Drel's fire hissed past.
Arthur traced a single glyph in the air—Siphon: Ember Sink—and collapsed the flame midair.
The spell shattered.
Gasps erupted from the sidelines.
Arthur lifted his hand again.
Paused.
Then dropped it.
"I forfeit," he said, voice cold.
Drel looked stunned.
The instructor blinked.
"You… win?"
"I got what I needed," Arthur replied.
[Trait Activated: Combat Insight (Lv.1)]
Years of experience manifest through instinct. When calm, detect weak points in enemy spellcasting.
▣▣▣
[Main Quest Update: Suspected Murderer Identified — Drel Moreck (Status: Enforcer, not Instigator)]
You were taken to the ritual by force. He held the chains. He laughed as they bled you.
Arthur sat alone that night, staring at his hands.
He remembered the pain now.
Drel had been one of them.
The blood wasn't an illusion.
Arthur had died.
And Drel had helped.
Now he was alive again.
And Drel wasn't laughing anymore.
But Arthur didn't want revenge yet.
Not until he knew who gave the order.
▣▣▣
Three Days Later – Inner Garden, Tower of Alchemia
Sarah sat with him on a bench carved of moonstone, eyes closed, listening to the wind rustle through the blueleaf vines.
She had asked no questions since their last talk.
And that was why he trusted her.
"You said you wanted the truth," Arthur said finally.
She opened her eyes.
"I did."
He looked at her.
"I think I've found one piece of it. My death… wasn't an accident. Or an initiation gone wrong."
Sarah nodded slowly.
"I suspected."
Her fingers brushed his.
And then—a flash.
Not a memory.
A vision.
[System Trigger: Bond Sight – Elowen, Sarah]
Blood. Screaming. Her hands bound by silver thread. A room she did not choose to enter. Three shadows laughing in masks. One watching in silence.
Then a whisper: "This is the price of power."
Arthur gasped, stumbling back.
Sarah's eyes went wide.
"You… saw something?"
He looked at her.
"You were there."
She looked away. "Not by choice."
"Who brought you?"
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"…Marcus."
▣▣▣
[Main Quest Update: Marcus Valen — Status: Unknown (Last Seen near Tower of Final Rites)]
The second name falls into place.
Marcus. A cousin. A scholar. Smarter than the others. Quieter.
Valen had trusted him once.
And Caelum knew that trust is a blade with two edges.
Arthur stood, heart heavy.
"I have to go."
Sarah didn't stop him.
But she watched him leave with eyes full of stormlight.
▣▣▣
That Night – Sub-Level 3, Sealed Corridor beneath the Tower of Final Rites
No students came down here.
The stone was too old.
The air too thin.
Arthur's breath misted before him as he descended the spiraling stairway. Each step triggered something deep in his bones. Pain. Memory. Echo.
He reached the sealed door.
Carved with the same runes from that night.
He traced them.
Not with fear.
With precision.
Click.
The door opened.
[Side Quest Completed: Echo's Path]
Reward: Skill Gained — "Fragment Weave"
You may now stabilize one memory fragment into a usable ability.
Choose carefully.
Arthur chose:
"Spell Echo: Dual Cast (Lv.1)"
Once per day, replicate a spell you've just cast without cost. (System cooldown: 24 hours)
He stepped into the darkness.
Candles lit by his presence.
And in the center of the room—was a mask.
The one worn by the silent figure in Sarah's vision.
He approached it slowly.
Lifted it.
Behind it, etched in the wall, was a symbol.
Not of any noble house.
Not of the university.
But older.
Far older.
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
"Now we're getting somewhere."
▣▣▣
Elsewhere – Chamber of the Hidden Circle
"They know."
"They remember."
"The girl has awakened."
"Valen grows stable."
The leader stood, voice cold.
"Then we begin the next phase."
From the depths, a creature stirred.
Its voice was not a voice, but a sickness that echoed through thought.
"Bring it. Bring me the Host."
" 'They' want the plan to progress."