The list

I sat on Rose's bed, gently weaving her hair into a single braid as she meditated in serene silence.

The motion of braiding was repetitive, almost soothing, yet my thoughts churned with restless unease.

I had very little confidence in my ability to retain the power I currently held.

Each day since my return, I'd been steadily infusing Rose with fragments of the Lamb God's power.

A gamble, perhaps, but a calculated one.

Though I had lost some irreplaceable allies, I'd also gained certain advantages.

First and foremost, I had the king in a precarious tug of war a position of mutual leverage where neither of us could act too recklessly.

Second, I'd gained clarity, a broader understanding of this world and its mechanisms.

But clarity came with harsh truths. My current powers, formidable as they seemed, were insufficient.

As a Scholar, I held the ability to alter reality and create spells with my words a power that was versatile yet rigid in scope.

But now, as a Visionary, the breadth of my abilities had expanded significantly.

Perception manipulation? I could twist reality itself into illusions that felt, looked, and functioned as real as the truth.

Sense corruption and theft?

I could siphon the abilities or strengths of those who matched my level or weaker.

Perhaps the most unsettling ability was my passive foresight: a sense of imminent danger tied to my mana.

It allowed me to subtly influence outcomes without consciously knowing the details of the threat.

The extent of this power, however, remained elusive a slippery thing to quantify, let alone control.

Yet my mastery was still in its infancy. Advancing in an Order like mine required living in accordance with its principles.

As a Visionary, I was compelled to create a future constantly.

That was why I had taken on the guise of a revolutionary it wasn't just strategy; it was necessity.

Orders shaped personality and action, amplifying traits that aligned with their essence.

And as someone who had glimpsed the future, I fit the mold perfectly.

Another revelation was the cost of my abilities.

The spells I created, no matter how impressive, were consuming massive amounts of mana.

The cards I wielded, for example, weren't just tools; they were physical manifestations created by transmuting mana into tangible form.

I'd also started practicing the creation of other physical objects, though that art was still in its nascent stages.

As I tied off the braid, I exhaled and stretched my arms wide, letting the tension drain from my muscles.

"Alright," I said, standing and glancing down at Rose. "Next week, we leave the capital."

Rose glanced back at me, opening her left eye with a teasing smirk. "Is it because you're a wanted criminal now?"

I sighed, shifting my gaze to the mask resting on her pillow.

The mask was a critical piece of the persona I aimed to build the Visionary, a figure cloaked in secrecy.

No one alive had seen my face, aside from Stark, and his knowledge didn't concern me.

The mask symbolized a break from my old self, allowing me to wield influence without exposing who I truly was.

The real reason we're leaving the capital is because I want to help in the war. To do that, I need to be on the front lines.

 The kingdom hasn't officially declared war on anyone yet.

But it's only a matter of time. Veritas, this kingdom, sits in the middle of the continent.

That makes it a prime target and a prime aggressor.

To the east lies Herstia, a kingdom known for its focus on magic and agriculture. They'll likely be Veritas's first target.

Due west is Grandia, a nation of powerful industrialists and mercenaries.

Their resources make them a critical ally or a dangerous enemy.

North of Veritas stretched a barren, icy wasteland.

Dragons roamed that frozen expanse, and its scattered human inhabitants lived under a rigid code of laws.

Though they were technically outlaws, their society consisted mainly of knights and hunters individuals bound by discipline and strength.

To the northwest lay Balo, a vast and ambitious kingdom whose movements could destabilize the entire region.

Each of these kingdoms resides solely on the central continent, while the northern continent is dominated by an extreme cold, caused in part by an ancient frost dragon that blankets the region in eternal winter.

The northern continent itself is a desolate expanse of raw coldness, formed entirely of pure ice.

Separating the central continent from the others lies the Black Sea, stretching across its western and eastern sides.

Beyond it, additional continents house various kingdoms, though on the eastern continent, Novastia stands as the most significant power.

"No, it's because we need to start your real training, and that means stepping out into the real world," I explained.

She sighed as I began walking toward the door. "Also, be prepared to set up camps we'll be living in the wild for a while."

She smirked. "What do you take me for? I've survived the streets of this rotten kingdom."

I laughed softly. "Yes, you have, haven't you?"

Leaving her room, I headed back to mine to begin packing.

The mask remained on my face it had become almost second nature at this point.

As I sorted through my belongings, I realized I'd need a better weapon.

My last one was lost during the encounter when Stark captured me, and I had given my backup to Rose.

I then went down stairs and made my way outside stepping into the backyard, the cool air brushing against my skin.

There, lined up under the vast night sky, were the gravestones I had carved for them Daniel, Albert, and the others who had fallen because of me.

The stones were crude, the result of hurried effort, but they stood firm, a tribute to their sacrifice.

I knelt before them, my hands clasped together, and began to pray.

"Lamb God, guide their souls to the Astral Sea. Let their spirits find peace beyond this life, unburdened by the weight of the world they left behind."

The silence that followed was almost suffocating.

The stillness was heavy, as though the night itself acknowledged the weight of my words.

After a long pause, I rose, brushing off my knees.

I had made my decision. I would become a follower of the Lamb God.

It was the only path forward now, the fastest way to gain the strength I would need for what lay ahead. I didn't need to rationalize it further.

With a deep breath, I turned and headed back inside. Rose was lounging in the common area, her legs stretched out, absently flipping through a book.

"Rose," I called.

She looked up, her brow raised in curiosity. "Yeah?"

"Don't bother me for a moment, alright?"

She smirked, closing the book. "Alright, but don't go too hard or anything. I need you alive, you know."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Go to your room, and don't cause trouble," I said in a mock-stern tone.

"Yes, sir," she replied with exaggerated seriousness, standing up and heading toward her room.

Once she was gone, I made my way to my own room.

I closed the door behind me and fell onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling for a moment before shutting my eyes.

The familiar pull of my consciousness began, a sensation like being submerged in warm water.

And then I was there, standing in the Library of the World.

I've already come to terms with the fact that using the novel as a basis for the future is useless now.

That said, the room I crafted to create a space for reading should be expanded.

I need a dedicated place to compile all my knowledge both from the novel and what I observe as I travel the world.

As I wandered the endless library, I came across a door. Pushing it open, I entered the room.

Right now, I had to walk through the library to reach this place, but I needed a more efficient way to access it.

I want to make it a part of me an extension of my being and find a way to pull from the metaphysical world.

All realms beyond the Veil are metaphysical in nature.

Physical and material confines lose their meaning beyond the multiverse and its contents.

Creating such a place from scratch is impossible, so it's better to claim one already existing.

I know of a few stranded realms that could serve as suitable candidates.

As one grows stronger, they can create their own inner worlds spaces they can pull others into and bring into reality in small, controlled aspects.

When you reach the peak of power, you can even shape reality itself through these realms, though the consequences are grave.

If someone dies in their manifested realm, it still stands even after their existence is erased.

I intended to claim someone else's realm, and the options I knew of were three.

I sat down in the chair and opened my diary. Only one page revealed itself, detailing my attempts at each word.

It was a dark sequence, ending with me waking up and beginning final preparations to leave the capital.

I sighed as I closed the diary. Out of my three options, I'm still unsure which to choose.

One realm is completely off the table the Castle of Darkness. It's overrun with eldritch horrors, and the Horror of the World has tainted it beyond repair.

The other two, however, are different. 

The Dormant Summit was a vast, structural world much like the Castle of Darkness.

Instead of a single castle, it was a sprawling realm featuring a central throne room, meeting chambers, and countless rooms filled with artifacts, weapons, and, most intriguingly, Remembrances.

Remembrances were intangible concepts representing a person's will and power.

Each individual could only possess three, assigned randomly to the mind, body, and soul.

However, taking control of this world required a careful decision.

To seize it, I would need to expend a Remembrance.

The Remembrance granted me the ability to seal a portion of my power, the longer it remained sealed, the greater its strength upon release.

For instance, sealing ten percent of my power would result in twenty percent after a day.

Yet, I knew there were far more advanced Remembrances for the body that I could either forge myself or discover in the future.

Risking an unknown Remembrance wasn't a gamble I was willing to take.

The other option, the Myroneth Sanctum, presented its own unique challenges.

Myroneth was a massive planet encircled by stars, but at its peak lay a small cabin a modest space comparable to the room I was in now.

The issue lay in the method by which the creator shaped the world:

A higher-dimensional shifting process.

The only way to claim this realm would be to take the soul's Remembrance, which, while granting immunity to higher-dimensional influences on the soul, offered no tangible benefit beyond that.

The risk was not worth the reward, as it would render the power useless once I outgrew its limited application.

The only other option is to expend all of the Lamb God's power and create a realm using it.

However, this would require meticulous care and precision in its crafting.

I leaned back, reflecting deeply, and after careful consideration, I've decided to take over the Dormant Summit.

But with this choice, I'm prepared to face the risks that may arise later.

The process of creating a realm demands the deliberate fusion of one's power with a metaphysical contraption.

It is akin to weaving a delicate tapestry, where each thread symbolizes a layer of existence, intertwining seamlessly with the very fabric of one's essence.

This act transcends simple construction; it becomes a profound extension of the self a harmonious synthesis of reality and abstraction, where every decision and image embodies the creator's will.

To merge these two realms, I would need to channel both my mana and the Lamb God's power.

In doing so, I can harness the full force of the Dormant Summit without the need to rely on a Remembrance.

With that, I cleared my mind and started its construction.