The following day, Headmistress Alina Sunstone herself escorted Nihil to the entrance of the Grand Library. This was a statement. As they walked across the main courtyard, all students who caught sight of them fell silent and began to whisper. Darius val-Luminar, who had been practicing swordplay with his friends, halted his movements, his eyes narrowing with a cold stare.
The library doors were made of ancient oak carved with constellations. A stooped old librarian, Master Scrivanus, bowed respectfully to Alina.
"Master Scrivanus," Alina said, her clear voice echoing in the quiet front hall. "This is Nihil, our Special Research Student. He will have access to the general collection and most mid-level archives. Ensure he is not disturbed."
Scrivanus regarded Nihil over his thick spectacles, his wise eyes seemingly piercing through the shadows of Nihil's hood. "Of course, Headmistress. Knowledge is for all who seek it."
Alina turned to Nihil and handed him a small bronze medallion engraved with an open eye symbol. "This is your identifier. Do not lose it." She paused for a moment, her gaze laden with meaning. "I have given you the key, Nihil. It is up to you to find the right door."
With that, she left, leaving Nihil alone at the threshold of an ocean of infinite knowledge.
The interior of the library left Heze awestruck. This was no mere pile of books. It was a living ecosystem of knowledge. Cathedral-high bookshelves soared to a domed ceiling painted like the night sky. Magical light orbs floated in the air like tiny stars, illuminating the countless aisles. In some sections, books flew about on their own, returning to their proper shelves.
Nihil paid no heed to the wonders. He made straight for the central catalog pillar, a giant crystal responsive to mental commands. He began his hunt.
His targets were threefold. First, basic texts on Mana Theory and Holy Magic; he needed to understand the physics of this world. Second, texts on magical anomalies, curses, and mana-less phenomena. Third, all records he could find on the history of House Nocturne.
Armed with his list of locations, he ventured deeper into the labyrinth. He found a secluded corner in the Noble Family Histories section. As he pulled a thick book from the shelf, a calm voice addressed him from behind.
"Searching for your family history, Kitchen Boy?"
Nihil turned. Princess Seraphina val-Argent stood there, holding a book on Ancient Astrology. Unlike Darius, her gaze was not mocking but sharp with curiosity.
"I seek knowledge, as others do," Nihil replied flatly.
Seraphina smiled thinly. "Fascinating knowledge, it seems. I'm more interested in the 'light' you created in Professor Theron's class. I checked the archives. No spells, illusions, or artifacts on record can produce pure photons without thermal energy traces or mana emissions. So, I'll ask directly. How did you do it?"
This was an intellectual trap. Revealing Atomic Manipulation was impossible.
"Light is particles," Nihil answered, speaking a partial truth. "They don't require fire or magic to exist. Just sufficient energy to excite them."
"What kind of energy?" Seraphina pressed.
"The right kind," Nihil countered, meeting her gaze.
A silent battle of wits ensued. Seraphina finally sighed, her smile widening slightly. "You are a tightly locked puzzle box, Nihil. But all keys can be forged." She bowed slightly and left, leaving him with the feeling of being under a microscope.
Nihil refocused on his search. He found a black leather-bound book with a faint raven emblem. "The Tragedy of the Nocturne Bloodline: An Academic Study." This was the sanitized version.
He read it quickly. The story was as expected: a mysterious curse, premature deaths of family members, a history of sorrow. But when he reached the chapter on his ancestor, Archon Zarthus Nocturne—the same from the cathedral journal—he found something odd. Several paragraphs had been blacked out with powerful sensor magic.
Nihil hesitated for a moment. He glanced around. The aisle was empty. Driven by instinct, he placed his finger over one of the sensor blocks. He didn't try to erase it. He simply allowed a thin aura of Void to touch it.
The sensor magic flickered. The magical black ink thinned for a fraction of a second. Behind it, Nihil managed to read a few hidden words.
"...his obsession with the Cult... rituals... Soul Devouring..."
The ink turned pitch black again. But the damage was done. Nihil's heart raced. So, the Imperium and the Academy knew. They knew about his ancestor's connection to the Cult of Nullity. They knew the true nature of the rituals. And they chose to conceal it, burying it under sensor magic.
This was no longer just a family curse. It was a conspiracy. The library was not only a source of answers but also a prison of truths. And he had just found the key.
In the days that followed, Nihil made the library his second home. By day, he attended basic classes—where he continued to frustrate Professor Theron by answering complex theoretical questions while failing spectacularly in every practical session—and spent the rest of his time among the bookshelves.
He found more. Censored texts, erased cross-references, all pointing to a hidden truth about Void power and his family's history. His "Conceptual Forging" talent began to work. By studying magic theory, he started to understand the "language" of this world. He began formulating new ways to apply Atomic Manipulation, creating "spells" of his own in his mind.
But he knew theory alone was not enough. He needed practice.
That morning, he went to the Outdoor Training Ground. The place was spacious and open, filled with students practicing. Some practiced sword duels, others cast spells at training golems. Nihil did not join. He stood at the edge, observing, analyzing. Every movement, every spell, was data.
"Watching won't build your muscles, boy."
Instructor Zander stood beside him, chewing on an apple. "I saw your fight at the exam. Fast. Efficient. Lethal. But it's the fighting style of a starving wolf. One surprise attack works. In a real fight, a long fight, you'll be out of breath in thirty seconds."
Nihil listened in silence.
"You have instinct," Zander continued. "But you lack foundation. No stamina, no core strength. Come to the weight training room every morning before dawn. I'll leave a basic training program for you. Do it without questioning. If not, don't waste my time."
Zander tossed the apple core and left. It was an offer— a rare opportunity from a notoriously hard instructor.
At that moment, a haughty, cold voice cut through his concentration. "Look who we have here. The theory genius trying to figure out what hard work is."
Darius val-Luminar strode over, followed by the twin Vexes. Sweat glistened on his brow, his fine sword slung over his shoulder. He had clearly just finished a training session.
"Enjoying Instructor Zander's attention, Kitchen Boy?" Darius said, his blue eyes regarding Nihil with cold superiority. "Don't let it go to your head. True power comes from mana and Blessings. Something you'll never have."
Nihil did not respond. Provoking Darius directly was foolish.
But Darius was not done. He spotted Professor Theron walking in the distance and a sly idea formed. "Professor Theron!" he called.
Theron approached, his face immediately souring at the sight of Nihil.
"Professor," Darius said with a polite smile. "Given the Special Research Student's enthusiasm for learning, I have a suggestion. The 'Mana Shield Endurance Test' is scheduled for next week. As a mandatory exam for all first-year students, shouldn't Mr. Nihil participate as well? To demonstrate solidarity."
This was a perfect trap. The exam was a simple test: students had to channel their mana to create a magical shield and hold it against light projectiles fired by golems for as long as possible. It was a pure test of mana capacity and control.
Theron's lips curled into a thin, malicious smile. "An excellent idea, Mr. val-Luminar. Indeed, all students must participate to proceed to the next semester. Failure to create a shield, even for just ten seconds, will result in academic suspension."
They had him. A bureaucratic trap from which he could not escape. Orion and Lyra Vex snorted in suppressed laughter.
All eyes were now on Nihil. They expected him to panic, to plead, or to refuse.
Nihil stared at the training golem in the distance, then at the crystal projector used to create shields. He didn't see magic. He saw a system. A mechanism. A machine operating according to rules.
"When is the exam scheduled?" Nihil asked calmly.
Darius was slightly taken aback by the calmness. "One week from now. Good luck... summoning mana from thin air."
He and his group laughed and walked away, leaving Nihil as the center of attention.
不久后, Celia rushed up to him, her face pale with worry. "Nihil, you can't do this! It's a trap! There's no way for you to create a mana shield!"
Nihil looked at his only friend. Then he turned back to the training ground, his crimson eyes scanning every detail of the exam mechanism. A crazy plan began to form in Heze's mind. A hypothesis. An experiment.
"Every system has rules, Celia," he said softly, more to himself than to her. "And every rule... has a gap to exploit."
He had accepted the unspoken challenge. In one week, he must perform the impossible once again: to create magic from nothing.