A gaunt man knelt on the stone floor, his fingertips tracing countless meaningless characters in blood. The symbols made the stone tremble and opened a deep abyss from the darkness.
Standing above it, his yellow, glowing eyes full of arrogance, his white cloak fluttered as if caught in a strong wind. His long golden hair whipped wildly like the cloak, above a smile torn and scarred.
He let himself fall.
"There are still many methods I haven't fully explored… Now!! I will seek it—the voice that has haunted for thousands of years—and uproot the tree that forms the foundation of this world…!"
His body transformed into points of light, moving with a frequency-like vibration. He surged through the parting darkness, roaring like the burning of the air.
A figure appeared above a crowd amid boundless darkness, illuminated by hundreds of torches. The figure shattered into a pool of blood flowing across the dull gray grass, then reassembled from hundreds of thousands of sparkling lights appearing above the droplets of blood.
"Pleased to meet the dungeon organization explorers…!"
The cold, horrifying voice made hundreds of people point their weapons at the gaunt man.
"The light you seek… it may be me…!"
…
A sign appeared within sight, on the corner of a filthy street littered with trash: Reingen Street. According to his memory, it had been extended to New Fanren Street. However, it was mentioned that other streets were no different—it was only enforced for Carriage Number Four. Currently, he had no clear purpose in entering this city.
Initially, facing an unknown world, he only wished to return to the single azure sky over the boundless lands above the clouds. Yet now, he had to be wary of the stars and seek ways to acquire knowledge and abilities to uncover all truths.
Earning money to sustain himself seemed an essential first step. Victor was no inexperienced child, but a man approaching middle age, still distant from it.
In this era, common work included industrial labor and agriculture. As he walked through various districts, he constantly observed his surroundings. Beyond showing his outdoor skills or applying to restaurants or service jobs, other options might suit Victor.
Starting anew in work mirrored starting a new life. He smiled after completing his relaxed thoughts while walking along Reingen Street.
The journey, from the outer city near the walls to the inner city, was rundown; both streets and people displayed the unsightly façade of the republic.
Compared to the imagined era with nobles, inequality was natural. But as a republic, citizens should have the right to choose leaders; such disparity shouldn't exist.
Observing the surroundings repeatedly, he began to think quickly and pressure himself. At one point, he stopped as a luxurious carriage drew near, parting the crowd.
An elderly, plump man in a brown shirt with a gray vest, short white hair, and a friendly face called to Victor.
"Young man, why are you standing there? Care for a ride? Comfortable and reasonably priced."
Victor thought briefly. Standing still near the sign naturally drew attention, as it did in his past—stationary pedestrians often attracted taxi drivers seeking victims.
For now, Victor had no destination, but as he planned to earn a living, he needed knowledge of this world. Visiting the library to acquire essential knowledge was sensible. History, religion—much called for exploration.
He might remain under this three-colored sky for years, perhaps a lifetime. Considering his irrational misfortune, he might spend the rest of his life here.
Ending his whimsical thoughts, Victor approached the driver calmly and politely.
"I'd like to use the carriage service. Is there a library on New Fanren Street?"
The old man smiled.
"Oh, sharp eyes! Your face and attire make you stand out. If you want the library, you've chosen correctly—just a few steps from that street. It's a university library, free for the public. Unlike others that charge, so citizens aren't given knowledge to read and write."
"That means I'm quite lucky. Even if citizens are hindered, it won't succeed if they know."
Victor laughed with the old man.
The man straightened his aching back, guiding the reins as Victor climbed the small steps, opened the wooden door, and sank into the soft seat.
Inside was tastefully decorated; large animal-skin rugs covered the floor, and the seat was plush and ornate—far beyond normal prices. Victor doubted the claimed cheap fare.
Seated, he gazed out, pondering how to access supernatural power. The mysterious man could transport him to another unclear time; thus, he must also achieve it. Usually, such powers require religion or bloodline. But if everything could be learned and reasoned, he could seize the justice of his life in his own hands.
Victor crossed his arms, creating a mental plan. Once financially stable, spending only for basic needs, he would find suitable lodging—one small, cheap apartment had been noted. Even if funds were lacking, negotiation would be necessary.
After seeking sources of supernatural power, he would find all answers, even if preliminary. There was no more interesting way. This place differed from typical fantasy novels—it was another form of reality. Learning power and ascending to rulership was a child's dream without formal education.
The carriage stopped; the street sign read clearly: New Fanren. The opposite window slid open, and the elderly driver adjusted himself.
"Young man! We've arrived. Thank you for riding Carriage Number Four. Few passengers come, so dust may be high. Price is fixed—four silver coins."
Victor paused, surprised by his fortune. Four coins differed from records—two were reserved for Carriage Number Four, for business participants.
The driver had spoken in advance, so negotiation wasn't possible unless Victor complied with the general rules. Yet, being an elderly man, conversation was possible.
"I fear your price is wrong. I can pay two silver coins if you drop the markup."
The man scowled. Being outwitted by a stranger was intimidating. Though Victor had no ties, his confident words implied involvement.
His lips quivered; he rubbed his head and began to argue.
"I haven't marked it up… You can't accuse me! I've always charged this, even for the poor!"
Victor remained silent, staring at the man.
"I understand. I don't wish to argue and look disgraceful. Remember to bring news next time, or I'll mistake you for an ordinary customer. Number Six Alley, New Fanren—don't forget, there's an important meeting tonight."
Victor bowed and placed two silver coins calmly.
He stepped off into the midday sun, warm yet contradictory to the cold air. The carriage moved, allowing him to breathe freely.
Recalling the last statement, Victor retrieved a paper noting symbols appearing across the city's twenty-three districts. The paper's size hindered writing, so he recorded as he understood—for example, one district had two symbolic alleys: northmost and southmost.
To know the alley numbers, he had to walk many steps, wasting time, through crowded streets lined with small fences leading to the university entrance on the left.
It resembled a palace, clearly labeled: New Fanren University. District and street names were similar, easy to remember.
The large plaza was bustling with stalls, branching paths with signs: left—library, small shopping center, theater, outdoor restroom, employment office; right—general classroom 1, classroom 2, cafeteria, indoor restroom, research building, military science building, press office, energy control center.
Turning left, he walked past numerous students in dull uniforms with red ties. The university was also filled with ordinary citizens.
At the end of the plaza, a building stood among wide streets lined with shops and a large outdoor theater. It connected to the university's main building. Dilapidated, with a closed main door, no sign indicated access times.
Yet it could be pushed open, dust swirling as sunlight filtered through thick air, showing long disuse.
While contemplating entering, a man blocked the exit. Dressed as a student, thin with round glasses, he stared at Victor in surprise.
"Uh…! I didn't expect anyone to use this library. That explains why the door is open—please, come in!"
The student lit lanterns, restoring light to the large two-story library, with floor-to-ceiling shelves and a second-floor balcony, and a central table like a palace dining table.
"There may be dust… I'm occasionally assigned to watch here. Some couples cause trouble, so few pay attention to maintaining it," he said, laughing.
"I understand. I just want to study. Do you know if Number Six Alley is north or south?"
"Ah… north! Why?"
"Thanks. I just wanted to ask. Does the library have closing hours?"
"No, use it at your pleasure!"
Victor walked among the sections. Each floor had labeled genres: mathematics, astronomy, linguistics, history, religion.
His finger paused on a thick hardcover: the history of the Ven Republic and Central Continent.
Gently, he opened it. The text began with the land's history: in the westernmost part of the Central Continent, an ancient kingdom ruled all—Ravenis.
During the Dragon Hunter Era (Years 1–1002), Ravenis, though small and backward, became wealthy, famous, and arrogant under a great king. None could rival its king except the dungeon leader Nathan Heraj.
Ravenis' kings were only recorded during the dragon war, causing global devastation. The proud King Emeraz wielded his sword over ten valleys. After his mysterious death, the kings vanished.
Post-Year 1002, the Renaissance Era began (Year 1003). Ravenis declined politically and resource-wise after invasions. Abandoned by five kingdoms after Emeraz's death, it fell.
By 1498, invasions from the northern Infineus Empire and southern Blood Empire ended Ravenis. Citizens migrated south, forming the Ven Republic, splitting southern cities against northern aggressors. Though called a republic, elite economic classes governed. Some pages were torn deliberately, not from age.
After reading, the library lanterns flickered. Cold pervaded, time passing quickly—four hundred pages read. The sky darkened into evening. The student had left; Victor had to extinguish all lanterns.
Wandering the still-busy university, he reflected on history, long and fantastical, with creatures like dragons, even naming eras after their hunting.
Humans had triumphed over dragons for 500 years, easing his mind. Had he lived in that era, life wouldn't be as easy.
Yet an important, suspicious meeting awaited in Number Six Alley.