The road stretched endlessly ahead.
Constantine walked with steady steps, the morning sun warming his back as the village slowly disappeared behind him.
His pace was neither hurried nor slow.
Measured.
Efficient.
Traveling as a merchant required patience. People who rushed drew attention.
And attention was something Constantine had no need for.
The pouch of gold from the villagers rested inside his bag.
It was not much by noble standards.
But for a small village, it was trust.
The warmth in his chest stirred faintly again as he thought about it.
Constantine ignored the sensation.
Instead, he focused on the task ahead.
His destination had already been decided.
If he wished to recreate the Rune Magic that summoned Veyrath, he needed information.
The scholars who had performed the ritual eleven years ago had belonged to an obscure academic circle.
They were not royal mages.
Not temple priests.
But something more… secretive.
Constantine remembered fragments of their robes.
Their speech patterns.
The way they argued about ancient texts.
Those small details had been recorded by the system long ago.
And when Constantine had spent his year absorbing knowledge from the Mirror Realm, those details finally made sense.
There was only one place such scholars would gather.
A city famous across the continent.
The academic capital.
Ardelion.
The City of Scholars.
The journey took several weeks.
Constantine traveled with merchant caravans when possible.
Sometimes he walked alone.
Other times he shared campfires with traders, hunters, or wandering priests.
People rarely questioned a quiet merchant.
Especially one who carried himself like a disciplined fighter.
His blindness also helped.
Many assumed a blind traveler could not possibly be dangerous.
Constantine did not correct them.
One night, while traveling with a small caravan, two bandits attempted to rob the group.
The men approached confidently.
They had seen the blindfold and assumed weakness.
The fight ended quickly.
Before either bandit could even raise their swords properly—
Constantine moved.
A single step.
A twist of the wrist.
The first man collapsed unconscious with a broken shoulder.
The second dropped his weapon after his knee bent in a direction knees were not designed to bend.
The caravan guards stared.
One of them whispered,
"…did the blind guy just handle that?"
Constantine calmly returned to his seat beside the fire.
No one asked questions after that.
Weeks later, the sound of the road changed.
Stone replaced dirt beneath his boots.
The air carried the scent of ink, parchment, and burned oil lamps.
Voices filled the streets.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Constantine had arrived.
Ardelion.
The City of Scholars.
Even without sight, the city's nature was obvious.
Constantine could hear the constant murmur of debate everywhere.
Students arguing about philosophy.
Scholars discussing magic theory.
Merchants shouting about rare books and artifacts.
Every street sounded like a lecture hall.
The city thrived on knowledge.
Libraries stood taller than churches.
Bookstores filled entire streets.
And everywhere Constantine walked—
He heard the rustling sound of parchment pages turning.
It was the perfect place to hide forbidden knowledge.
And the perfect place to find it.
Constantine rented a small room in a cheap inn.
The innkeeper barely looked twice at him.
Traveling scholars were often eccentric.
A blindfolded merchant was not the strangest guest the city had seen.
Once inside the room, Constantine sat quietly on the bed.
The system activated immediately.
[Environmental Analysis Initiated]
Fragments of skill data began processing.
He had absorbed countless scholarly memories in the Mirror Realm.
Historians.
Librarians.
Archivists.
Researchers.
Those skills now guided him.
To find rune scholars, Constantine first needed to understand one thing.
Where forbidden knowledge hides.
And the answer was simple.
Not in famous libraries.
Not in public institutions.
Those places were watched.
Forbidden texts lived elsewhere.
Private collections.
Secret societies.
Underground auctions.
Scholars who pursued knowledge too dangerous for the official academies.
Ardelion had many such circles.
Constantine only needed to find one connected to Netherworld studies.
He stood slowly.
His first step would be the city's largest public archive.
Not because the information he needed would be there.
But because the people who searched for it would.
Scholars often left trails.
Footnotes.
References.
Mentions of banned subjects hidden between legitimate research.
Constantine intended to follow those trails.
Until they led him to someone who knew Rune Magic.
And eventually—
Someone who knew how to summon Veyrath.
Constantine stepped out of the inn.
The city buzzed with endless intellectual life around him.
Students hurried past carrying stacks of books.
Professors debated loudly in the streets.
Ink-stained scribes rushed between archives.
None of them noticed the blind merchant walking quietly among them.