Rising

The tavern was silent, so quiet that even the faintest breath could be heard.

Albert wasn't some fool. In the novel, despite having minimal dialogue and only a handful of appearances, he left an undeniable impact on both the plot and me.

He chuckled, pulling up a chair and sitting across from me.

 "I need to know. What's your real aim? Sure, I want to revive him. That much is clear. But you? What are you planning?"

I took a deep breath, letting my expression turn somber. "I only wish to keep this world safe."

Albert raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt.

"His revival is just one step a single piece of a much larger plan I've set into motion," I said.

"And to see it through, I need connections. The Silent Court offers that. With your support, I can make it happen."

Albert studied me carefully. He wasn't the kind of man to rush into decisions, especially one this monumental.

In the novel, his intelligence was a defining trait. My offer wrapped in layers of intrigue and implied knowledge was bound to appeal to someone like him.

I wasn't just asking for a place in the Silent Court.

I was presenting myself as an asset, someone who might know more than even he did.

For Albert, that alone could make me invaluable.

"Inanis," he said after a moment, his tone calm but probing, "why now? What's changed to make you act?"

I smirked faintly. "Must a man reveal all his secrets? All I need from you, Albert, is an answer. Will you allow me to join the Silent Court?"

Albert leaned back, his sharp eyes fixed on mine. There was an unsettling silence as he considered my words, his gaze unrelenting. Finally, he extended his hand.

"You'll have your chance," he said, his voice low and deliberate.

I took his hand in mine, the handshake firm. It was then I noticed something odd Albert wasn't attempting to bind me.

No vows, no oaths, no magical ties to force loyalty. Nothing.

"You're not binding me?" I asked, my voice betraying my surprise.

Albert's lips curled into a faint grin. "Why would I? If you're lying, it'll show eventually. And if you're not, forcing loyalty would only insult someone with your... potential."

His confidence, his complete lack of wariness, unsettled me more than any threat might have.

This man wasn't simply clever he was calculating, willing to take risks where others would falter.

"That's a dangerous gamble," I said, releasing his hand.

"Perhaps," he replied. "But I've made worse gambles and survived."

Albert wasn't fully trusting me far from it.

He was simply playing a different kind of game.

"So," Albert said, folding his arms, "you're in. But I'll warn you this isn't some comfortable alliance. I'll expect you to pull your weight."

"Understood," I replied smoothly. "And I think you'll find I'm more than capable of holding my own."

Albert chuckled. "We'll see. Now tell me what's your next step? Surely you've planned ahead."

It was quite amusing that he asked that question. Truthfully, I had planned far ahead. I am a very smart man.

"I need a few items to spark my evolution," I said, leaning back slightly. "And I also want to alter my pathway to gain a different aspect."

Albert stared at me for a moment, his expression unreadable. "I'll be going to the capital soon," he said finally. "I won't help you with such tasks, but you can stay here while you work on them."

I laughed softly. "I suppose that's fair. It should only take me a day. Until then, I suggest you contact anyone you think is important let them know my name and appearance."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's not very common. Usually, we know each other by an alteration of our souls."

"No," I replied, shaking my head. "I need everyone you deem worthy to know of me. After all, I'll need their help to overthrow a king."

Albert didn't react to my bold statement, instead giving a curt nod. "Once we reach the capital, what do you wish to do?"

"That depends entirely on you," I said with a slight grin. "What I'll be doing is... private. But trust me it's all for the betterment of Nicholas."

He ignored my words again, his gaze steady. "Choose any room. Though be warned, dawn is only three hours away."

I nodded as I rose from my seat. "Oh, and by the way," I added, glancing at him over my shoulder, "you might want to refine your members. All those who died here today didn't need to."

Albert shrugged. "They weren't given orders. They chose their deaths."

I placed a hand on my chin thoughtfully. "I suppose death is all too gripping for those ignorant of my name."

Turning to him with a smile, I said, "Good thing you know it, huh?"

Albert's expression didn't change, but I could tell my words lingered in the silence.

Without another word, I left the room and climbed the stairs to find a place to rest.

The room I chose was modest, but it suited my needs.

The bed was simple but clean, and the air was still.

I slipped out of my cloak, setting it aside, and lay down.

My thoughts swirled as sleep crept over me, and soon I fell into its embrace.

When I opened my eyes again, I wasn't in the tavern. I stood within the grand library once more.

The endless rows of towering shelves stretched into infinity, their heights vanishing into the hazy, glowing void above.

I couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and surprise that my meeting with Albert had gone so well.

Truthfully, I half-expected him to kill me at some point. But then again, that wasn't his nature.

His character was built on calculated, well-thought-out decisions.

Of course, he didn't have much of a choice in this situation. Still, I found myself quietly praising my own acting skills.

And while doing so, my mind drifted to something more pressing: my pathway.

Pathways were preordained, the result of aligning oneself with one of the core concepts tied to existence.

And within a pathway, an Order was chosen a manifestation of that concept.

My pathway was Scholar, and my Order? To no one's surprise, I had chosen Scholar. It felt straightforward, almost redundant, yet it suited me perfectly.

I once thought about becoming an Archivist after reaching a higher power level. But now?

I was beginning to believe it was better to pursue that goal immediately.

Becoming an Archivist, however, wasn't simple. Among the three known requirements, the most difficult was owning a library.

And as I gazed around this vast, infinite expanse of knowledge, a realization struck me.

What if this place... was already mine?

I wandered through the library, trailing my fingers along countless spines.

Each book seemed unique, filled with knowledge and stories I couldn't begin to fathom.

But mapping out an infinite realm was, of course, impossible.

To claim this place, I would likely need to assert dominance over it in some way something far beyond my current abilities.

Still, I found myself drawn to the same door as before.

When I opened it, I entered the familiar room with the round table and the singular chair.

There, sitting as I left it, was my diary.

As I approached and opened it, five more pages revealed themselves, seemingly out of nowhere.

This confirmed my suspicion: the diary's growth was random, tied to no discernible logic.

Only two or three days had passed since I last visited, yet here was more to read.

I scanned through the new entries, reading carefully.

Each page chronicled my actions from a perspective that felt both intimate and detached, as though I were narrating them from a third-person view.

Yet the tone suggested a voice closer to second person direct and oddly personal.

The entries detailed events spanning the next five days. They aligned with my expectations, but the specifics were hazy, as though seen through frosted glass.

According to the diary, I would leave for the capital tomorrow and begin stirring up trouble.

The details of this trouble were unclear, but the outcome wasn't: it led me directly to the king.

Unfortunately, my arrogance in those future events would result in imprisonment. Apparently, all it took was an insult. How trivial.

Frustration bubbled within me. Was that truly my best course of action? Or was it simply a reminder to reconsider my approach?

I closed the diary, stood, and raised my hands.

The air shimmered around me as the room responded to my will.

It seemed that all connected to the Scholar pathway shared access to this room a space of collective knowledge.

Moreover, they held the ability to alter it as they saw fit.

I decided to reshape the room into a library where each page of my Bingo Book would become a novel, detailing the lives of those whose stories I had committed to memory.

With a single thought, the room began to shift.

I found myself in what appeared to be a small room.

Its walls were lined with shelves, but only a handful of books occupied them ten, perhaps, scattered across the vast emptiness.

The rest of the shelves stretched endlessly in anticipation of knowledge yet to come.

A single table stood at the room's center.

It was simple, carved from dark wood and illuminated by the flickering glow of a single candle.

My diary rested there, its worn cover closed, and beside it lay an ink-stained quill.

The flame of the candle danced, casting long shadows across the room.

Though the space appeared cozy at first glance, I quickly realized it was far larger than it seemed.

The shelves seemed to stretch endlessly when viewed at a certain angle, as if the room itself defied ordinary dimensions.

I sat back down at the table, running my fingers along its smooth surface, and smiled. "Just as I wanted it."

The power to shape this space was fascinating.

The stronger you are, the larger and more complex the space you can create.

It's not just a room it's akin to another world entirely, with a window into ours.

In essence, this space served as a sanctuary, one that no ordinary being could hope to intrude upon.

I shouldn't have to worry about anyone reaching me here, even those far beyond my current level.

Of course, the only reason I could manipulate this place was due to my immense knowledge and wisdom, accumulated from my time spent reading the novel.

It wasn't a feat just anyone could achieve, even among those at my current level of power.

Most people at my stage of development if you could even call it that are at best superhuman.

They could dodge bullets, and perhaps, at the highest end, even react to lightning.

Yet by now, I was certain that if I were back on Earth, I'd be considered a global threat, a being capable of shaking the very foundations of the world.

I stood and gazed at the room, my will shaping it further.

A door appeared before me, elegant and unassuming. It formed from nothingness, its existence bending to my desires.

Now that I had control over this place, I realized I could create a gateway to almost any realm I knew of.

Yet, the thought of doing so gave me pause.

If I were to step into another domain, there was a very real chance I'd encounter beings far more powerful than I could handle.

And if I did… well, I doubted they'd let me live.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped through the door and into the infinite library once more.

Rows upon rows of towering shelves stretched endlessly before me, the sheer scale enough to overwhelm most minds.

And yet, it was quiet. No voices echoed, no signs of life stirred.

It struck me again that I hadn't encountered a single soul in this place.

Perhaps it was because no one else in this world was walking the same path as me, at least not with the power or knowledge to truly claim it.

This ability this sanctuary was a feat reserved for the strongest, the most exceptional.

Of my Order, I couldn't help but conclude that entering the realms of those who truly ruled might be a grave mistake.

I roamed the library for what felt like hours, marveling at the expanse of knowledge hidden within its infinite depths.

Eventually, I stopped at a ladder, its worn rungs leading upward.

Step by step, I climbed, ascending into the unknown, each step feeling heavier than the last.

At a breaking point in the infinity above, I paused.

Among the countless books lining the shelf, one caught my eye.

A red book, its spine unadorned but pulsing faintly, as if alive. Reaching out, I grasped it from the shelf and opened it.

Its title: Mana Theory.

A grin tugged at my lips. This was what I needed.

Without hesitation, I jumped from the ladder, the book clutched tightly in my hand.

The fall felt endless, the library's boundless void rushing past me in a blur. Yet, as I hit the floor, there was no pain only a soft, weightless sensation.

When I opened my eyes, I was back in the tavern, the faint light of the candle illuminating the book I held.