Chapter 17
[Embercrown 20th (8/20), Year 1356 of the Arcane Calendar]
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[ Location- unknown]
There was nothing. No sky, no ground—yet I stood. It felt like standing on the surface of water, just deep enough to almost cover my feet. A suffocating black void stretched forever. Then, faint light flickered.
A white blur surfaced—hazy at first, a voice familiar—finally had sharp clarity.
"Finally. Took long enough."
I tensed, forcing myself upright, every nerve on edge. "Where the hell is this? The spirit realm?"
Kyzen's memories made the world feel heavy. The spirit realm wasn't some tourist spot—it was a soul-slicing slaughterhouse crawling with wraiths, creatures born from festering resentments of the dead. Being alone there was basically signing your own death warrant.
But the blur just chuckled. "Wrong guess. This is your soul sphere. Your own private little mental closet. Cozy, isn't it?"
My jaw tightened. "So what are you then—friend, or some squatter spirit who doesn't pay rent? Because trust me, it isn't free."
The figure sharpened, its tone smugger than any boss-fight narrator. "Oliver Carter. Twenty-one. From Earth. First crush at fifteen—your English teacher. You bawled when you found out she was married."
I froze. "Stop."
Embarrassment, I could handle. But someone rifling through my memories? Whole other violation. I'd thought maybe it had scraps about Kyzen, maybe could slip me hints in my head—but having full access to my memories? That was terrifying.
I exhaled through clenched teeth. "What are you?"
"Yes, I have full access to your thoughts and memories. But you don't." It chuckled.
"I'm both function and spirit," it said, like reading from a script. "A leftover from the old age. I once guided your ancestor in mastering his lineage magic."
I blinked. "…My what?"
"Oh, I mean Kyzens ancestor"
The blur didn't even let me process. Its tone dropped into full-blown mockery. "Fine, let me put it in trashy-webnovel terms. I'm a System. Yes, that kind. Numbers-go-up, ding-you-leveled-up variety. Congratulations, protagonist—you're officially a walking cliché."
My arms folded. "You realize you just roasted yourself, right?"
A noise that was definitely a snort. "Please. Systems in those novels are soulless calculators. I'm not just 0s and 1s—I'm part spirit. Actual personality. Lucky you."
"Oh, great," I muttered. "My life's hijacked by a sarcastic knockoff ChatGPT with a consciousness."
"Better than a mute HUD, isn't it? Or did you want the robotic voice spamming 'New Quest: Don't Die!' every ten seconds?"
The silence stretched, heavy and awkward.
I sighed. "…Fine. Explain, then. What's happening to me? And where the hell even are you? I can't even see you."
The glow rippled, shifting into something sharper. The voice slipped into casual familiarity. "Alright. Let me pick nice clothes, something you'll recognize. Just don't complain."
Particles swirled, stitching together until I was staring at—
Me.
My Earth self. Oliver, jacket and all, wearing the exact crooked grin I hated in photos. Except the hair was wrong—bright yellow.
"Better?" it asked, brushing imaginary lint off its sleeve.
"Yeah. Not creepy," I muttered.
"What, you'd rather I borrow your mom's face? Maybe your sister's? Or one of your idiot friends? I can be generous." The clone tapped my chin with my own finger, smug as hell.
"Don't." My voice came out sharper than I meant.
The grin faded just enough to sting. "Thought so. You'd love to see them again, wouldn't you?"
The weight of homesickness crashed down, heavy and unrelenting. My face, smirking back at me, only twisted the knife.
Is this his real form?
"Of course it's not," it said, smirking wider. "But it's a nice one. Your face isn't too bad."
First of even if you can read my thoughts, stop replying instantly, it makes me feel stupid.
"Quite honest," it replied.
"Well, I can't lie to you, can I?"
Looking at him, I realized I'd almost forgotten what I looked like. That was me—that was Oliver. A strange thought struck: is this how Kyzen would feel if he saw me wearing his body?
"Why so depressed?" Cornelius tilted his head.
I frowned.
"You can even read my emotions?"
"What are emotions?" he asked, tone sharp, like a professor tossing out a serious question. A complex product of our brain? The thought clicked.
He didn't just have access to my memories—he had my entire brain. Then… could he control me?
"Close, but wrong," he corrected smoothly.
"Even emotions are recorded somewhere in your memories as events. I can notice that too. You remember when you felt angry at Liam's snoring, don't you? Everything is recorded."
"Also," he continued, "there's probably a way back to your home planet. This world… from what fragments I remember… it isn't natural. It's artificial. And before you press me, I don't remember what that means."
He hesitated, eyes flickering. "More accurate to say—I was made to forget many things."
My breath hitched. "What do you mean, there's a way? Can you help me?" The questions tumbled out, frantic. "Why am I here? What are contractors? What happened to Kyzen? Did I… did I kill him?"
"Calm down," the apparition said, holding up my hands—but not my hands. "As I told you, my memories are sealed from the moment I woke up from stasis. I can only answer a few things."
He began counting on fingers that looked uncomfortably like mine:
1."There's a high probability you can return to your world."
2."Contractors' is the title for beings like me—those who grant Inheritors a contract."
3."Kyzen's condition? Unclear. But… I sense a faint presence of his spirit soul, mingled with yours."
"How do you know I can return?" I asked, my voice tighter than I meant it to be.
His expression grew sharp, almost grave. "Gods exist, Oliver."
The words hit me like a stone in the chest. Wait—you mean I'm going to have to meet a god?
"Wrong." His lips curved into a smirk. "You'll be meeting many gods."
I froze. Before I could push further, his eyes narrowed, and his tone shifted—low, deliberate. "I can't say more. Knowledge like that isn't mine to give. Some truths are… sealed. If spoken aloud, they devour the one who speaks them."
After a moment of thinking, "Then why me? Why not Calix? He never showed any signs of Noctis' lineage magic."
The doppelgänger's expression turned grave.
"Each lineage magic requires specific activation conditions—unique circumstances that awaken the guiding spirit meant to teach its use. For Noctis' bloodline…" He met my eyes.
"The condition was transmigration," I whispered, the words spilling out like the answer to a riddle.
My chest tightened. "Does this mean the first Inheritor was also a transmigrator?"
"No," he cut my thoughts off. "From what I know, each generation's head receives different activation conditions for their bloodline magic. The transmigration condition was set after the death of the first Inheritor. If you were to die now, the next inheritor would awaken under an entirely different condition. Understand?"
"Yes," I muttered, "but why?"
His form flickered. "We don't have much time. This meeting only happened because of that prayer—your stubborn soul sphere briefly allowed mine to enter. That's the only reason I'm even here."
He leaned closer. "So now—will you accept me as your contractor?"
My brow furrowed. "So… contractors are Systems, right? And I'm assuming my bloodline magic's already unlocked?"
"In a sense, yes and yes. But you don't know how to use it yet." His smirk returned.
"One last question. Will you help me go back home?"
"Of course," he said without hesitation. "And I don't lie."
Even though I didn't trust him, a bitter laugh slipped out. "I'm already lost. Getting a little more lost won't hurt."
"Excellent," he replied with a grin.
The air around us shuddered. Glass-like fractures spiderwebbed through the void, silently shattering.
A chill rippled through me as the void began to destabilize, fractures spiderwebbing through the dark. He extended a hand, steady and expectant.
"No more blackouts," he said. "Just direct access to your encyclopedia."
My throat felt dry, but I reached out anyway, fingers brushing his. "What's required?" I asked, gripping his hand tight.
Alaric's form dissolved into silver threads, which coiled around my body like serpents of light. They pulsed with a cold burn, searing into my skin, sealing the pact.
"This is enough for today. Your spirituality is already drained."
"What—" I started, but the world crumbled before I could finish.
My eyes snapped open. I was lying on a bed in Liam's room. Liam, who had been keeping watch, sighed in relief before shouting out the door:
"He's awake!"
Liam's concern was palpable; the usual bravado in his eyes had softened. He turned back to me, voice low and earnest. "My bad—I should've let you rest instead of dragging you out."
I gave him a faint smile, trying to brush it off. "This is nothing. You should start worrying about the sleep deprivation we're about to suffer at the academy."
That earned a chuckle. "Fair point."
Just then, Tia stepped into the room, her expression tight with worry. "If you're feeling well enough, come down for dinner."
"I'm fine now," I reassured her, pushing myself upright. "I'll be down in a few minutes."
As Liam sat beside me, I asked, "What happened to Cale and Lyanna?"
"They helped carry you back and even bought medicine to help with your energy after you woke up. I told them we'd meet tomorrow."
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After a short rest, Liam and I finally made our way downstairs, sharing dinner with the others before turning in for the night.
As I settled in, his voice broke the quiet. "What electives are you taking this year?"
I thought for a moment. After eight semesters, students finally chose their specialized tracks—I had gone with Runic Scholars, while Liam had chosen Beast Taming. From the third year onward, anyone with a strong enough foundation in their specialization could also pick three electives. Mine were already locked in:
->Illusions & Curses
->Advanced Weapon Mastery
->Magical Engineering
Liam raised an eyebrow. "Magical Engineering? Didn't expect that from you."
"Well, I've been feeling innovative lately," I said with a smirk. My knowledge of modern Earth tech gave me ideas—ways magic and engineering could be fused in ways this world hadn't dreamed of yet.
Liam sighed. "Just don't regret it later. That field's a nightmare if you don't have patience."
I laughed. "I'll manage. What about you?"
He listed his electives without hesitation:
->Spirit Binding & Contracts
->Stealth & Espionage
->Linguistics & Ancient Texts
"Looks like we're going down very different paths," I remarked.
"Yeah," he said with a yawn, "but that just means we'll cover more ground." He rolled over. "Anyway, I'm heading to sleep."
"Yeah. Good night."
The room fell quiet, but my mind wouldn't settle. The weight of the day pressed on me.
When I woke up earlier, I realized something—Cornelius and I could talk through my soul sphere. I didn't understand how it worked, but the connection was there, constant and undeniable.
Hey, Cornelius. You there? I sent the thought out into the dark.
A mental grumble came back immediately. Unfortunately.
I shifted under the blanket. Can you explain lineage magic to me?
Cornelius's voice resonated in my thoughts, calm but firm. Lineage magic is unique—exclusive to the bloodline it belongs to. Only those who carry that blood, along with their guide, when given access to it. It cannot be taught, stolen, or replicated by outsiders.
His tone deepened. Each inheritor's blood carries a distinct property, and that property defines how its magic manifests.
I listened closely, every word sinking in, knowing this wasn't just knowledge—it was survival.
"Think of it like a lock placed on everyone who possesses the blood of the 15 gods. The key is only forged when the previous inheritor dies, and it can be instructed to unlock the one who fulfills the activation condition."
Cornelius's gaze sharpened, his tone shifting into something almost ceremonial. "For you, Kyzen, your lineage magic —the power to consciously shape 3 forms of dreaming into reality."
— ◈Character Profile ◈ —
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Name: Kyzen Lunthaler Varae
Contractor: Cornelius Veydris
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->Bloodline magic: Three Pillars of Dreams
▶ Conscious skills [0]:
▼ Unconscious skills [1]:
▼ Oneiric step: Once activated, it creates a temporary link between the user's soul and the target's, opening a pathway into the Soul Sphere. Through this connection, the user can step inside and interact with the target's inner realm of memories, emotions, and essence.
Caution- This skill allows the user to enter another person's Soul Sphere, provided the target does not possess a higher resistance. If failed target may notice the attempt.
▶ Subconscious skills [0]:
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->Stats progression :
▼ [Level 2- Mage] :(54%)
[0%—————(54%)————100%]
▼ [Level 1- physique] :(09%)
[0%—(09%)————————100%]
▼ [Level 3 -Mentality] :(33%)
[0%——(33%)———————100%]
▼ [Level 2 -spirituality] :(43%)
[0%———(43%)——————100%]
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— ◈Character Profile ◈ —
"You actually made a system?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"Yes. And I can tell you like it."
"For the last time, stop speaking my thoughts out loud," I snapped.
After skimming through the information, I realized something strange—I could already use a bloodline skill. How is it possible I'm able to use this skill?
"Well, in theory," Cornelius replied calmly, "you should be able to use it even without formally learning it. Experience helps in understanding—and you've already gone through it once before."
"It's similar to what we experienced when I entered your soul sphere," Cornelius said. "I waited before forming a connection because you were a special case. Your body and your soul sphere were still harmonizing—foreign to each other at first, but slowly spreading spiritual roots, taking hold within the vessel."
He paused, his voice slipping into something almost ceremonial as he recited:
'May your Light join what was meant'—words meant to guide your body and spirit into harmony.
'May the Eternal Root of Anchor bind us as one'—a phrase for me, to gain stable access. These incantations are used by priests to mend fractured soul spheres, not to forge connections between them."
Cornelius's tone deepened. "The only reason it worked with you is because I was already bound to your soul sphere. To me, it looked damaged, since it hadn't yet fully fused with your body."
He exhaled slowly, eyes lowering. "The truth is, I'm tied by an ancient contract—one that links me to every new inheritor. I don't even remember if I had a choice in the matter."
I nodded quietly, taking in the weight of his words.
For once, even I didn't have a sarcastic thought to throw back at him.