The Knight family library was silent — the kind of silence that made every movement feel louder than it should. The air smelled of parchment and faint candle wax, and somewhere in that stillness, I felt something I hadn't in years. Peace.
I walked slowly between the towering shelves, eyes tracing the faded titles carved along ancient bindings. History, magic, combat, alchemy — a world of knowledge that stretched further than I could see.
"Master Sebastin?"
The voice came softly from near the entrance. An elderly man stood there, thin-framed, with silver hair neatly tied back. His spectacles sat low on his nose, and his uniform bore the faint crest of the Knight family. He bowed slightly.
"I wasn't told you would be visiting the archives today."
"Thought I'd change the routine a bit," I said, offering a small smile. "It's been some time since I picked up a book."
His brow lifted slightly — surprise flickering for a brief second.
"A change most welcome, young master. Please, let me know if you require assistance."
"I'll manage," I replied gently. He nodded and went back to sorting a pile of scrolls behind the desk. His footsteps faded, leaving only the rustle of old pages and the faint hum of the manor's quiet heartbeat.
I turned back to the shelves. If I wanted to survive here, I needed to understand this world — its structure, its magic, its people, and the rules that bound it together. I began pulling books one by one — Aetherium: A History of the Empire, Principles of Mana Control, Introduction to Sword Forms and Combat Flow, The Houses of Nobility, The Theory of Core Resonance — and carried them to a long oak table near the window.
When I opened the first book, the letters swam briefly, then settled into focus. And just like that, everything clicked. Lines, ideas, and dates stitched together effortlessly in my mind. My eyes moved faster, my thoughts processed faster. The words didn't just stay on the page — they arranged themselves neatly in memory, perfectly recalled, just as they had back in the lab.
I stopped, testing it. One random paragraph. Closed the book. The words repeated flawlessly in my mind. Still there. Still me. So whatever they'd done to my mind — whatever I'd become — it hadn't been left behind.
I kept reading. Hours turned into days. The librarian brought meals — bread, fruit, tea — which I barely touched. I slept little, only enough to keep the body from collapsing. The rest of the time, I read — history, geography, noble customs, magic foundations, and even the principles of swordsmanship unique to this world.
By the fourth day, I'd already begun piecing together how the Aetherium Empire functioned — the politics between the Four Dukedoms, the mana academies, the existence of magical beasts, and the hierarchy between knights, mages, and commoners. It was a world built on order, but beneath it, I could already see cracks — greed, ambition, and something darker that tied the Empire's history together.
And that's when I found the last book — thick, dark-bound, its title printed in bold, simple letters: The Nature of the Demon Races.
Nothing ominous. No strange aura. Just a book — heavy with information. I turned the first page.
It wasn't myth or superstition — it was research. Descriptions of various demonic species, their anatomy, their mana structures, their hierarchy — Lords, Warlords, Generals, down to the lesser spawn. It spoke of the Great Rift, the barrier that separated the human realm from the demon world centuries ago, and the occasional breaches that still occurred.
The demons weren't just monsters — they were intelligent. Strategic. Capable of understanding human emotion even if they couldn't feel it the same way. Some were said to mimic humans entirely. Some even lived among them, unseen.
I leaned back slowly, letting that thought sink in. It wasn't a warning. It was a reminder. Knowledge was a weapon. And now, I was collecting blades.
As the evening sun bled through the tall windows, I closed the book carefully and rested my hand over its cover. Four days. Four days, and I already knew more about this world than the person who'd once lived in this body.
Tomorrow, I'd start piecing together how to use it.