The air inside the Forbidden Archives was dead. It didn't circulate; it sat, heavy with the weight of centuries and the dry, sweet scent of parchment that had outlived its authors. As the door clicked shut behind him, the muffled sounds of the capital—the bells, the horses, the distant laughter of the banquet—vanished completely.
Ren stood in a narrow corridor lined with shelves that disappeared into the gloom above. He adjusted his hood and let his eyes adapt. He didn't need a torch. Since he had absorbed the mana of the Shadow-Stalkers and the enchanted weapons, his vision had shifted. The world was no longer just shapes and colors; it was a map of energy.
[Current Power Level: 950]
[Detecting Active Magic: Defensive Wards, Preservation Charms, Gravity Traps.]
The system's text floated in his vision like embers. To anyone else, this place was a death trap. One wrong step would trigger a blast of lightning or sound an alarm that would bring the entire Royal Guard down on their heads. But to Ren, the traps looked like glowing threads of blue and gold light.
He didn't avoid them. He walked right toward the first ward—a shimmering curtain of light blocking the path.
"I don't have time to solve puzzles," Ren whispered.
He reached out his hand. The moment his skin touched the barrier, the "Void" inside him surged. The golden threads of the ward didn't break; they were pulled. They stretched toward his palm, spiraling into his center like water down a drain. The hallway flickered, the lights dimming as Ren feasted on the security system itself.
[Mana Absorbed: +50]
[Status: Stealth Undetected. Ward neutralized.]
Ren moved deeper. He wasn't looking for history books or scrolls about the Demon Lord. He was looking for the "Uncharted Dimensions" section. He passed through the General History wing and the Elemental Magic wing, his footsteps swallowed by his Hollow Step skill.
Finally, he reached a heavy, circular door made of silver-veined iron. Above it, a sign read: The Records of the Star-Crossed.
This was it. This was where the kingdom kept the notes on every summoning ever performed—and every attempt to send someone back.
As he reached for the handle, a voice echoed through the circular room. It wasn't a human voice; it was the sound of grinding stone and humming crystal.
"Knowledge is earned, not stolen, traveler."
Ren spun around. In the center of the room, a heap of discarded armor and broken stone began to float. It assembled itself into a towering figure—a Library Guardian. It was an automaton, a machine powered by a massive, pulsing blue crystal in its chest. It held a spear of pure energy that hummed with enough power to level a building.
The Guardian leveled its spear at Ren. "The Null Soul. You are the one the King discarded. Why have you returned to the house of your betters?"
Ren didn't flinch. He didn't feel the need to defend himself or explain his story. He just looked at the blue crystal in the machine's chest. To the Guardian, it was a heart. To Ren, it was a battery.
"I'm just here for a book," Ren said, his voice flat. "Move aside, and I won't have to break you."
The Guardian didn't respond with words. It lunged. The spear of energy cut through the air, trailing sparks. Ren dived to the floor, the heat of the passing blade singeing his cloak. He rolled and came up behind the machine, but the Guardian was fast. It swung its heavy stone arm, catching Ren in the ribs.
The force of the blow sent him flying back into a bookshelf. Books tumbled around him, their pages fluttering like wounded birds. Ren coughed, feeling a sharp pain in his side. Even with his increased power, he was still human. A direct hit from a Guardian could kill him.
[Health: 70%]
[Warning: Physical impact detected. Stored mana being used for rapid healing.]
The Guardian raised its spear again, the blue light intensifying. It was preparing a wide-area blast.
Ren knew he couldn't win a physical fight. The machine didn't have lungs to tire or a mind to fear. He needed to use the one thing it couldn't defend against.
"You're made of magic," Ren said, standing up and wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth. "That was your first mistake."
As the Guardian fired a beam of pure mana, Ren didn't dodge. He stood his ground and held out both hands, palms open.
[Skill Activated: Black Mirror]
The beam hit him, but it didn't explode. It hit an invisible wall an inch from Ren's skin. The blue energy began to swirl, trapped in a localized vortex. Ren's teeth grounded together as the sheer volume of power tried to tear his arms apart. It was like trying to hold onto a lightning bolt.
"Eat... this!" he groaned.
The "Void" opened wide. The beam was sucked into Ren's body at an impossible speed. His veins began to glow blue, his skin humming with the stolen frequency of the Guardian.
[Mana Absorbed: +400!]
[Current Power Level: 1,400]
[Status: Overcharged.]
The Guardian staggered. The blue crystal in its chest, which had been bright and vibrant, was now dim and flickering. It tried to raise its spear again, but the weapon was dead. The machine had been drained of its lifeblood.
Ren walked toward the stumbling automaton. He didn't feel pity. He reached out and touched the central crystal. With one final pull, he sucked the remaining energy out. The Guardian collapsed into a pile of junk, the blue light fading from its eyes forever.
Ren stood in the silence, his body vibrating with power. He felt stronger than he ever had in his old life. He felt like he could punch through a mountain. But he forced himself to calm down. He wasn't here to be a warrior.
He walked past the scrap metal and opened the silver-veined door.
Inside, the room was small and filled with glowing crystals that acted as projectors. Ren began to sift through them, his hands moving quickly. He saw records of the first summoning a thousand years ago. He saw the "Heroes" of the past.
And then, he found it. A crystal labeled: The Failed Return.
He touched it, and a hologram appeared in the air. It was a map of the dimensions. It showed two spheres—Earth and this world. Between them was a bridge made of complex geometric patterns.
"The Dimensional Anchor," a recorded voice said. "To traverse the void and return to the World of Origin, one must possess a Mana Density of 1,000,000 and the Heart of the World—a jewel held by the Demon Lord himself."
Ren stared at the numbers. One million. He was at fourteen hundred.
He had a long way to go. But he had a map. He had a goal. And he knew that the King would never have told him this. The King wanted the Heroes to stay and die for his kingdom. He would never let them go home.
Ren pulled a blank piece of parchment from a nearby desk and quickly sketched the geometric patterns of the bridge. He didn't need the whole book; he just needed the formula.
As he finished, he heard footsteps in the outer hall. Not the heavy clanking of a machine, but the light, rhythmic steps of a person. A person with a very high power level.
"Guardian?" a female voice called out. It was soft, melodic, and familiar.
Miya.
Ren froze. He hadn't expected her to leave the banquet so soon. She must have felt the disturbance in the mana when he drained the Guardian.
He looked at the window. It was high up and narrow, but he could make it. He shoved the parchment into his cloak and pulled his mask tight.
"Guardian, report," Miya said, her voice closer now. She stepped into the circular room, her golden dress shimmering in the dim light. She saw the pile of scrap metal that used to be the protector of the archives. Her eyes widened, and her hand went to her throat, where a Rare Light pendant glowed.
She looked up and saw a shadow perched on the windowsill.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice rising with authority. She raised her hand, and a ball of pure, golden light illuminated the room. "Turn around!"
Ren looked at her over his shoulder. Behind the bark mask, his eyes were unreadable. For a moment, he wanted to say her name. He wanted to see the look on her face when she realized the "Defect" was standing in the most forbidden place in her new kingdom.
But he didn't. He didn't need her recognition. He didn't need her apology.
He simply tilted his head, a silent goodbye to the girl who had let him be thrown away.
"The Unknown Lord," he whispered, his voice distorted by the mask.
Before she could fire a spell, he dropped out of the window and into the night.
Miya ran to the ledge, her light spell casting a long beam into the dark gardens below. But there was nothing there. Only the rustle of leaves in the wind.
She stood there for a long time, her heart racing. She had felt something when she looked at that masked man. A coldness. An emptiness. A feeling she hadn't felt since the day Ren was dragged out of the throne room.
"No," she whispered to herself. "That's impossible. He's dead. He has to be."
Meanwhile, a mile away, Ren was already moving toward the city gates. He had the map. He knew the cost.
He needed to get to the Demon Lord's territory. Not to save the world, but to steal the "Heart" that would buy his ticket home.