The corners of Damon's mouth twitched as he cautiously picked up the diary. He had a feeling that resonating with Fang Yuan's intent once more could help him find the missing ingredient he needed to realize his technique, yet he knew if he risked reading the diary, he would likely be devoured.
In the end, he placed the diary back down and reached for the book marked with the words Fundamentals of Spectology. "Better safe than sorry, I guess."
The parchment smelled really new, but that wasn't surprising considering this was merely a standardized copy of the original tome.
"It was a surprisingly thin book considering Specters have existed since the Age of Najat."
As he flipped the book open with enthusiasm, He laid eyes on a strange symbol. It was jagged, drawn with a crimson Ink and bore a trace of a forgotten time. It resembled an open claw with four talons or four horns overlapping, their tips reaching upward as if seeking what lies above. The lines were deliberately flowing into a chaotic looping curl at the base.
Below the symbol was an uneven script written in bold.
To those who would tread the way of the Specter, let this serve as your final moment of choice.
Damon's brows furrowed. The crimson letters almost shimmered, as if the page itself resisted being read.
This path offers power over that which lingers in the beyond, but its gifts are not freely given. Only a tempered WILL shall prevail upon this path, and till death will thy Ideals be tested. Corpse after corpse, you may never know defeat; rather, you will dwell in suffering's mistress. You will never truly walk in silence, nor peace. Your life will be an unbroken chain of tragedies.
"Tragedies, huh…?" Damon exhaled slowly, his fingertips hovering over the warning. He could tell the words were written with the certainty of someone who had lived them. Lowering his gaze, he caught sight of another smaller note at the bottom of the page.
Still, you turn the page? Then tragedy has already chosen you.
Damon stared at the words, his lips pressed into a thin line. A part of him wanted to scoff, to dismiss the warning as nothing more than some overdramatic scholar trying to scare away the weak-willed.
"My life begins with tragedy; no point running from it now." Damon's hand trembled lightly, yet he pressed onward confidently, the thin paper rustling as he revealed the next page.
A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he flipped through the early pages. The Creator's light, the origin of Spiritual energy, and Specters were concepts he was already familiar with, though the book reduces these to explanations, definitions, and case studies. The section on the four pillars caught his eye for a moment, but he had little interest in them.
'I'm already good at Spiritual manipulation, Mystic sense, Mystic Eye, and Mystic shroud, so I doubt there's anything else they can teach me.'
Turning another page, He found a section on Skills. The author kept the explanations simple by dividing the skills into two categories: Common/ basic skills and Innate skills. The Basic skills were originally known for being simple, with little effort, so that any Specter can obtain them. Innate skills, on the other hand, were tied directly to a Specter's species.
Over the years, humanity had discovered several races, such as the Spirits of Ginen and the Bayle, each possessing skills embedded in their essence.
Damon's eyes lit up as he read about the Bayle.
"They're real? Dragons are real ?!"He reeled in shock at the revelation. It was unbelievable to think the creatures he had read so much about in fantasy were soaring through the skies, yet the mundane civilians seemed completely unaware.
But as he continued reading, five minutes later, he understood why.
Rather than the noble beast of myth, the Bayle were a predatory species that thrived on silently hunting strong races and individuals. They possessed a rare genetic trait that gave their scales the ability to naturally refract light, rendering them completely invisible to all non-Specters. Due to the rarity of encounters with Bayles, there have been speculations that they may also be capable of altering their bodies on a cellular level to become smaller or lighter, but no one has been able to confirm the theory.
"I guess I might become a Bayle's dinner one day if I'm not careful." Damon shook his head, almost amused, yet a little unsettled.
Flipping further, the next page allowed him to learn about the Ranks surrounding the Specter's path. The ranking system was established in the age of Enlightenment, spanning from 2213-2612 Post-collapse, the coalition of the three churches had abolished the global Freedom of exploration Act, claiming it was inciting an uprising of Specter cults and heretics that strayed from the Gods to chase power. From then on, it was required for all exploration to be approved by the churches; those who did so without approval were prosecuted and hunted by the Holy knights.
There were also mentions of chants and spells, but it was rather vague, finding little concrete explanations. Damon skimmed most of it without hesitation.
The only spell described in detail was Mosynmonic, A mandatory spell that all specters above Novice Rank used to reduce civilian exposure. It operated like a lure, with charming words that any professional specter could extract memories and secrets from a civilian's mind, resulting in amnesia related to the lost memories. When interacting with civilians who've encountered the mystical, using the spell became the norm.
"It's likely the churches are so limiting access to spells."Sighing for a moment, he continued reading. 'Novice, Grade III, Grade II, and Grade I, huh …I wonder if there's anything ranked higher,' He ruminated.
[There is.. ], Suddenly, a familiar voice echoed in his mind with a humorous tone.
"Eh… master ?" Damon's eyes widened as he exclaimed in astonishment, "W-wait…what do you mean by that ?" Processing her words, he inquired curiously. He was unsure if Tomoe was joking or serious, so he remained silent as he waited for her to continue, but the voice didn't return.
Suddenly, he heard light footsteps nearing the library.
"I wonder whose that?… I doubt Xiuying's back already," Damon muttered. Intrigued, He kept his eyes locked on the entrance door patiently. He could sense that the person drawing near was suppressing their spiritual energy to an abysmally low level!
Creak..With a creaking noise, the door slightly opened, revealing a glimpse of Henry's face.
"Henry ?" To his surprise, it was none other than Henry.
Entering the library, Henry's eyes narrowed as he noticed Damon reading in a corner. As he approached, his gaze seemed to wander around the room as if searching for something, or rather someone.
Henry's steps came to a halt in front of Damon's table. His sharp eyes swept the library one last time, confirming the silence between the shelves, before finally settling on him.
"Did you tell Xiuying," he's asked flatly," that Cassie brought the bloody sword ?"
Damon blinked, caught off guard. A nervous chuckle escaped him as he shut the book with a soft thump.
"Ha? Where'd get that idea? I didn't say anything like that. Don't know how you or Xiuying got that idea." On the surface, Damon laughed it off, but inwardly his thoughts churned. 'Why would Henry even ask me this? The question itself felt strange, almost too direct.'
He could shake the suspicion that it had something to do with Cassie. Henry spent almost as much time with Cassie as Ethan did; if it concerned her, then it concerned him.
Before he could piece it together, Henry gave him the answer. Breaking his train of thought.
"Xiuying came earlier," Henry said with a tightened voice. " She took Cassie with her. Forcefully..said it was for a mission."
His words hit Damon harder than expected. His expression shifted."What? That wasn't me! Why would I have anything to do with that?"
Hearing his response, Henry's gaze sharpened, and for the first time Damon could remember, his composure cracked. Annoyance bled through his usually calm exterior. Without warning, Henry seized Damon by the collar and pulled him out of his seat.
Reflexively, Damon's fingers ripped Henry's wrist as he stared into his eyes.
"Then prove it, "Henry said coldly, his breath close."Training area now. Spar with me."