Archivius turned slightly, the motion impossibly fluid, like watching a video played at the wrong frame rate.
"Your three books are adequate. Not impressive, but adequate for someone of your current... limitations."
The being gestured again, and three books flew from impossible distances—one from a shelf that definitely hadn't existed a second ago, another from somewhere in the vertical infinity above, the third materializing from a shelf that existed sideways relative to gravity.
They slammed onto a table that absolutely, definitely hadn't been there before Don blinked.
The table was made of the same starlight material as the floor, and it held the three books with perfect stability despite apparently being conjured from nothing.
Don approached cautiously. His boots made no sound on the starlight floor.
Up close, the books looked... normal. Almost disappointingly so after the spectacle of the library itself. Three volumes of varying thickness, their covers worn but intact.
"Energy Control Fundamentals," Archivius stated, one long finger pointing at the thinnest book—a small tome bound in blue leather, its title embossed in silver. "Common grade.
Basic mana manipulation techniques for those born with the intellectual capacity of particularly stupid rocks. You'll find it useful nevertheless, given your current state of complete ignorance regarding proper energy flow."
The finger moved to the second book—thicker, bound in dark gray leather with gold lettering. "Power Stages for Leveling, Volume One. Uncommon grade.
Contains foundational information on the Seven Stages of Ascent and Destruction, with particular focus on Stage One: Iron Will. Also contains information that will likely get you killed if you're not careful with its application. You're welcome."
Finally, the third book—medium thickness, bound in worn brown leather that looked like it had seen actual combat. "Primitive Combat Arts. Common grade.
Fighting techniques that predate organized civilization. Brutal, effective, utterly lacking in elegance or refinement. Perfect for someone in your current situation of desperate survival."
Archivius's page-eyes flipped rapidly, the text within them scrolling at speeds that would make a normal person dizzy.
"I can provide you a detailed summary of each book's contents—approximately three hours of explanation, including proper context, historical significance, and practical application advice."
A pause.
"Or."
The being leaned closer, those book-eyes focusing on Don with uncomfortable intensity.
"I can transfer the complete knowledge directly into your mind.
Instantaneous absorption. Every word, every diagram, every technique—imprinted directly onto your consciousness. The summary will take three hours. The transfer will take three seconds."
Another pause, and something that might have been a smile crossed those too-perfect features.
"The transfer will feel like being stabbed in the brain with frozen lightning while simultaneously drowning in molten text. Quite unpleasant. Several users have compared it to having their soul scraped with a cheese grater made of concentrated agony."
Archivius straightened.
"I recommend the transfer. It's significantly more efficient. And far more entertaining."
A beat.
"For me."
Don stared at the being—this impossible, arrogant, ancient thing that existed inside his own soul. Three hours versus three seconds. Comfort versus efficiency.
The war drums were still out there. The goblins were still hunting. Time was a resource he couldn't afford to waste.
"Transfer," Don said, his voice steady.
"Excellent choice."
Archivius moved faster than thought itself.
One moment the being was standing across the table, the next, that impossibly long finger pressed against Don's forehead, right between his mismatched eyes.
"Try not to scream," Archivius said, voice carrying something that might have been amusement. "It disturbs the books."
And then—
Pain.
Not physical pain. Don's Immortality skill
would have reduced that to manageable levels. This was something else entirely.
Something worse.
Information.
Raw. Unfiltered. Uncompressed.
It poured into Don's mind like molten metal into a mold—three entire books worth of knowledge, every word, every diagram, every concept, forced through his consciousness at speeds that mortal brains were never designed to process.
His mind stretched. Warped. Expanded to accommodate the flood.
Energy Control Fundamentals: mana channels, flow patterns, breath synchronization, meditation techniques, seventeen different methods of circulation, warning signs of mana poisoning, emergency procedures for channel rupture—
Power Stages for Leveling: the Seven Stages, their requirements, the sacrifice system, cultivation methods, breakthrough techniques, the Iron Will foundation, the Severing Breath pattern, stat thresholds, common failure points, deadly mistakes—
Primitive Combat Arts: knife techniques, sword forms, spear thrusts, shield positioning, grappling methods, pressure points, killing strikes, seventeen ways to end a fight in under three seconds, brutal efficiency over flashy technique—
Everything.
All at once.
Simultaneously.
Don's yellow eye blazed like the sun itself, light pouring from it in golden rays that illuminated the entire library.
His brown eye wept blood—actual blood, crimson tears streaming down his face as blood vessels burst from the sheer pressure of information being forced through neural pathways.
His hands clawed at nothing. His jaw locked. His entire body rigid with the effort of not collapsing under the weight of three lifetimes of study compressed into three eternal seconds.
And then—
It stopped.
Archivius withdrew the finger, utterly unbothered, page-eyes flipping casually to a new chapter as if nothing interesting had occurred.
Don collapsed to his knees on the starlight floor, gasping, shaking, blood dripping from his face onto the glowing surface where it sizzled and evaporated into crimson mist.
His mind reeled. But the knowledge was there. Solid. Complete. Permanent.
He knew the Severing Breath Technique as if he'd practiced it for decades. Could execute it perfectly right now if needed.
He understood mana flow like it was his native language—could feel his own channels, could sense blockages he hadn't known existed, could optimize his circulation with thought alone.
He could perform seventeen different knife techniques without conscious thought—muscle memory that didn't come from muscles, but from pure information grafted directly onto his nervous system.
And the combat arts—brutal, efficient movements designed to kill quickly and move on. No wasted motion. No flashy techniques. Just effectiveness distilled into its purest form.
"This..." Don rasped, voice raw, "...hurts."
"Yes."
Archivius's tone carried no sympathy, no concern, just statement of fact.
"Knowledge often does. Particularly when acquired through methods that violate several natural laws regarding information transfer and consciousness manipulation."
The being turned away, already dismissing Don, long fingers gesturing and causing books to fly back to their proper shelves.
"Your time here is done. Return to your physical body. The Abyss awaits your continued survival—or your imminent death. Both outcomes are equally valid from a cosmic perspective."
The library began to fade around Don, the starlight floor becoming translucent, the infinite shelves growing distant.
"Oh, and Don?"
Don looked up through blood-stained vision, using his sleeve to wipe his eyes.
Archivius's page-eyes focused on him one final time, text within them scrolling to something that almost looked like approval.
"Your method for entering Stage One will work. The technique you're considering—using Emotion Suppression as a substitute for permanent sacrifice."
A pause.
"It's clever. Exploitative. Technically cheating the system through abuse of skill mechanics and semantic interpretation."
Those too-perfect features shifted into what was definitely a smile now—sharp, knowing, almost proud.
"I approve. The best cultivators are always the ones willing to break rules intelligently. Now go. And do try not to die immediately after gaining all this knowledge. It would be terribly wasteful."
The library vanished like smoke.