"So, it's dynamic,"
Vel squinted at the party member list hovering in his vision. The names of Celia and Hileya, present just hours ago, were gone. The system logged them out the moment they were no longer engaged in a shared activity.
Well, at least I won't be intruding on anyone's privacy this way. Still... it could be helpful. Especially now.
He glanced at the time. Hileya was late with dinner, something she had never been before. Knowing her location right now would have been reassuring.
As if summoned by his thoughts, a soft knock came at the door. Hileya entered, balancing a tray laden with steaming dishes.
"My apologies for the delay, Young Master."
"Did something happen?" Vel asked, his eyes catching the slight tremble in her hands as she set the tray down.
"No, nothing at all," she said, her voice a little too bright. She busied herself arranging the plates, her back turned to him. Vel watched her for a moment, deciding not to press the issue.
But his concern lingered. The dagger training was a start, but against the kind of threats that existed outside these walls, it felt inadequate. Magic was the true equalizer in this world. Remembering the affinities his interface had shown for her, he found his opening.
"Hileya," he began, his tone shifting. "Your dagger practice is going well, but have you ever thought about adding magic to your defense?"
She paused, her shoulders tensing. "For someone like me? I wouldn't know where to begin."
"Everyone has potential for attunement," he said gently.
"Most servants don't receive such opportunities," Hileya replied, her voice barely a whisper. "Few masters wish for their servants to be capable of defending themselves... let alone surpassing them."
"But there are exceptions, aren't there?" Vel countered softly. "I've read that in the royal houses, some servants are trained as protectors for the young nobles."
Hileya looked down at her hands, a flicker of disbelief in her eyes. "Me? Protecting Young Master? I... I don't think I would deserve such a responsibility."
"It's not about protecting me, Hileya. It's about helping yourself. Your well-being is important to me," Vel said, his voice earnest. "In a way, you've become part of the people who I could call family."
Hileya froze, her head snapping up. Her blue eyes were wide with shock, and a faint blush spread up her neck, coloring her pale cheeks. She stared at him, speechless, her posture rigid as if bracing for an impact.
Vel gave her a moment before breaking the charged silence. "I'll ask Instructor Lyvenna about it. Perhaps there's a way."
He gestured to the chair across from him. "For now, sit and eat. You can bring Celia her portion afterward."
Hileya gave a small, jerky nod and moved to the chair. She sat down, her gaze fixed on the plate before her, as if the steam rising from the food was the most fascinating thing in the world. The blush still lingered on her cheeks.
The next morning, Vel walked past the usual training grounds, ignoring the clang of practice swords. Today wasn't for sparring or spellcasting. After his conversation with Hileya, one purpose consumed him: finding answers. He needed to understand the chaos element, the primodials, the void—and the grand library was the only place to start.
The grand library doors stood before him, ornately carved with scenes of ancient mages and scholars. Vel pushed them open, inhaling the distinct scent of old parchment and leather bindings that greeted him. The vast space stretched upward with shelves reaching toward the vaulted ceiling, sunlight streaming through stained glass windows casting colorful patterns on the marble floor.
As Vel stepped further into the library, his gaze fell upon one of the large reading tables at the center of the room. A girl with vivid blue hair tied in a ponytail was already seated there, surrounded by open books and scattered notes. Konomi—Celia's roommate.
She looked up as he approached, recognition flashing in her eyes. "Vel, right? Celia's friend from the unstable class?"
"That's me," Vel replied with a polite nod. "Working on alchemy research?"
Konomi gestured at the array of books before her with a slightly frazzled expression. "Instructor Nalren assigned an essay on elemental transmutation principles. I'm trying to find examples of successful four-element conversions, but the texts keep contradicting each other."
Vel glanced at her notes, spotting diagrams of alchemical circles and ingredient lists. The formulas looked complex, even to his experienced eye. A memory from his past life flickered through his mind—chemistry exams with red marks slashed across formulas he'd never quite understood.
He had to smother a laugh. The creator of a world built on elemental principles had nearly failed high school chemistry. The universe, it seemed, had a sense of humor.
"I wouldn't know anything about it," Vel admitted, scratching his head. "But it's always fascinating seeing an expert at work."
Konomi laughed lightly. "I'm hardly an expert. Just trying to stay afloat in Instructor Nalren's class."
"Well, I should get to my own research," Vel said, nodding toward a nearby section. "Mind if I join you? I just need to grab a few volumes."
Konomi waved a hand dismissively. "Go ahead. It's good to have some company while reading."
Vel circled the massive bookshelves, running his fingers along ancient spines. He pulled out tomes on Primodial Theory, Elemental Convergence, and one particularly ominous-looking book titled Mythic Accounts of the Great Darkness. With a stack of books that threatened to topple, he returned to the table and settled into the empty chair.
Vel pushed a fourth volume away, the sound echoing softly in the vast library. Every book was a near-identical copy of the last, repeating the same sanitized history with only minor speculation to differentiate them.
Leaning his head on one hand, he lazily traced a paragraph with his finger, his eyes glazing over the words he'd already encountered four times. Five hundred years ago, the primodials existed. A period of darkness came, swallowing the entire world.
Vel rubbed his temple. When it receded, the primodials were gone. Most regions recovered, but places like Forua Island and Arno Lake remained consumed—dead lands shrouded in dark mist. Anyone who ventured inside never returned.
Hence the name: Void-land.
He sighed and threw the book onto the pile, grabbing another one.
One of the illustrations made him pause. He counted again. Six figures, each representing one element. There was something fundamentally wrong with this knowledge; it was passed from one generation to the next with no origin to back it up. The pieces began to connect. If he was ever going to truly understand Chaos, he needed to find a source that predated the Void's appearance.
"The disappearance of the primodials led to the misconception about the Chaos element," Vel whispered to himself, tapping his finger on the table.
"What are you researching?" Konomi's voice broke through his thoughts. She had leaned across the table, eyeing his stack of massive books. "Those books are pretty thick."
Vel looked up from his book and met Konomi's curious eyes. "Just some mythical tales. Do you happen to know anything about the primodials?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
Konomi tilted her head, her vivid blue ponytail swaying slightly with the movement. "I'm not sure you're asking the right person. Alchemy students don't usually read about that unless they come up in a test."
"Anything helps," Vel encouraged her.
"But from what I know, they are the guardians of this world—'were'... they were supposed to be 'immortal,' you know," she said, her expression thoughtful.
Vel nodded, understanding the statement perfectly well but wanting to hear more from someone else's perspective. The confirmation felt familiar, though he wondered what else had changed.
Konomi continued, setting her quill down. "Legends had it that if one of them ever perished, they would reincarnate into a different form."
That confirmed exactly what Giri had designed. In the game, player questlines revolved around protecting the Primodials. The main gameplay loop had centered on this concept—when a Primodial died, it would be resurrected into a different being. A Fire Dragon would become a Fire Phoenix, or perhaps a Flaming Basilisk.
"As long as the primodial element exists, they shouldn't die," Vel whispered, more to himself than to Konomi.
Her eyes widened slightly. "How do you know?" The silence of the library made his voice audible to her.
Vel caught himself.
"Just a wild guess," he replied with a shrug, turning his attention back to the ancient tome before him. "I mean, it makes logical sense, doesn't it? If they're manifestations of elemental power, then as long as that element exists in the world..."
Konomi nodded slowly, but her eyes held a hint of suspicion.
Vel cleared his throat, changing the subject. "It seems modern knowledge has disregarded old knowledge as obsolete."
"That happens in every field," Konomi agreed, her suspicion fading. "Even in alchemy, we're constantly throwing out old theories when new discoveries prove them wrong."
"Do you know where I can get the oldest books in this library?" Vel asked.
Konomi leaned closer, lowering her voice. "There's an ancient tome section, but I'm not sure it has what you need. You also need permission."
"Where can I get the permission?" Vel asked, his interest piqued.
"The librarian. You need protective gear to handle the books though—they're fragile."
Vel looked around the vast library. "Where? I don't see them."
"Pssh, don't say too loud," Konomi whispered, glancing around. "Walk over there, you'll see." She pointed toward a small desk nestled between two towering bookshelves.
Vel thanked her and made his way across the library floor, weaving between tables of studying students. He reached the librarian's desk where a very short person stood, arranging scrolls with practiced efficiency.
She looked up as he approached, her penetrating gaze making him nervous.
Vel realized he was staring. A wood elf. They were famous for their small bodies—she appeared youthful like a child, but her face told a different story.
She spoke in a child-like voice that contradicted her clearly ancient eyes. "Can I help you, or did you come here just to gawk?"
Vel hesitated, caught off guard by the librarian's directness. Her eyes seemed to peer right through him, as if she could see his true purpose.
"I uh— I need to access some of the ancient tomes," he stammered.
The librarian's expression remained unchanged. "Name. And Class Instructor."
"Velarian. Instructor Lyvenna's class," he replied, trying to sound more confident.
She picked up a small quill and began jotting something down in a leather-bound ledger. "What are you looking for." It wasn't a question but a demand.
"The oldest book ever existed... in this library," Vel said. "Anything about the primodials and elements?"
The librarian's quill paused mid-stroke. She looked up at him, her ancient eyes narrowing slightly. "Most books predating Primodials are gone, lost. Academy only possesses a few. But not in the library's possession. Only one here available for students."
Vel leaned forward. One was better than none.
The wood elf emerged from behind her desk, revealing her full height—barely reaching Vel's chest. She gestured for him to follow her through a narrow doorway he hadn't noticed before.
She led Vel through several arched doorways and down a spiral stone staircase. The air grew cooler as they descended, and Vel could sense a subtle magical presence—preservation spells, he guessed.
The librarian approached a cabinet and retrieved what looked like thin silk gloves and a face mask.
"Protective gear," she explained, handing them to Vel. "Oils from your skin damage the pages."
She then walked to a well-protected crystal casing positioned in the center of the room. She opened the case with a small key that hung around her neck, revealing an ancient tome nestled inside. As she carefully removed it, the crystal case continued to glow softly—some kind of preservation enchantment.
The librarian set the ancient tome on a nearby desk. Vel carefully sat down before it, feeling a reverent anticipation at what knowledge it might contain.
"Are you going to stand there?" he asked when the wood elf remained beside him.
"This book older than your ancestors. I watch," she replied simply.
Vel pulled on the silk gloves, adjusting them to fit snugly against his fingers. The wood elf continued standing there, her ancient eyes unblinking. Was she watching to ensure he wouldn't damage the precious text, or had she grown curious as a librarian who'd likely read every book in her lifetime?
"What are you hoping to find?" she asked suddenly.
"I'm researching for my personal project, regarding the different elements and their origins," Vel answered, trying to sound casual.
"Hm." The sound escaped her lips, but she didn't elaborate. She stood, watching.
Vel felt awkward under her scrutiny but turned his attention back to the pages. With careful movements, he opened the book, revealing yellowed parchment covered in faded ink.
As he began reading, recognition struck him. This was it. The original design, his design of Aeonalus, written in ancient language. Primodials, created by the gods to keep the balance of this world. If the elemental spirits were processors, primodials were the power source.
Vel leaned closer. Seeing his original concepts documented in ancient text felt surreal, yet oddly validating.
"This one is full of ancient text," the wood elf commented.
Vel nodded, continuing to read. The author had written a note in the margin, admitting he never fully understood the knowledge contained within. He could only decipher fragments through years of research and speculation.
But to Vel, what should have been incomprehensible ancient script displayed clearly before his eyes. He had been reading without realizing something critical—the segments the author referenced as indecipherable were written in programming language.
Vel's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the diagrams spread across the ancient pages. What others might see as incomprehensible runes and arcane symbols, he recognized instantly as something far more familiar—his own code.
"This can't be..." he whispered, forgetting the librarian's presence completely.
Vel flipped through the pages with growing amazement. The author had somehow obtained knowledge that went far beyond normal scholarly research. Page after page revealed intricate magic circles for each element—Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Light, Dark—each one documented with meticulous detail.
Each elemental representation came with its corresponding sigil—complex geometric patterns that resembled circuit diagrams more than mystical symbols. The Air element's sigil caught his attention first, with clear annotations pointing to specific components:
"_apply_force()" — with notes describing strength and power applications
"_velocity()" — explaining direction and speed parameters
"_invoke_air_spirit()" — detailing connection protocols to the elemental plane
Vel's fingers trembled inside the silk gloves as he carefully turned to the next page. Water element sigils appeared, complete with similar function calls: "_fluid_dynamics()" and "_pressure_manipulation()".
"It's code," he realized, his mind racing. "The entire magic system's architecture."
Fire elements showed "_thermal_output()" and "_combustion_rate()".
Earth displayed "_density_modification()" and "_structure_integrity()".
Page after page displayed the same meticulous detail, each diagram and notation absorbing his complete attention.
"Interesting find?" the wood elf's voice suddenly cut through his concentration.
Vel's head snapped up, his expression freezing as he realized his mistake. He'd been reacting too openly to information he shouldn't understand.
"The diagrams are fascinating," he managed, trying to sound appropriately scholarly rather than shocked.
The librarian's gaze didn't waver. "Most students see only pretty pictures. You seem to see... more."
"Do you know who the author is?" Vel asked.
"Tivan. Was a Scribe in ancient time."
A scribe, Vel thought. A subclass back in Aeonalus, part of the mage branch that specialized in a different direction.
"Rumor had it that he was able to connect to elemental plane thanks to his devotion to Tir. God of Clairvoyance."
So he was a scribe with seer-like abilities. That might have explained it.
Vel turned his attention back to the ancient tome, trying to control his racing heartbeat as he carefully flipped another page. The sensation was impossible to miss—each time he discovered a new elemental sigil, a small chime resonated in his mind. Not audible to anyone else, but clear as bells to him.
[Earth element sigil discovered]
Another page revealed darker, more intricate patterns that seemed to absorb rather than reflect light.
[Dark element sigil discovered]
Vel's fingers hesitated as he turned to the next page. There it was—what he'd been searching for all along.
[Chaos element sigil discovered]
Vel looked at the Chaos diagram more closely. Something was wrong. The diagram appeared like a glitch, layered on top of the page, almost as if his interface was showing him the diagram instead of his eyes seeing it directly.
He turned to Polma. "Are you seeing this?"
Polma looked at the page. "What? Just normal painting."
So only he could see this. As if someone or something was trying to hide the existence of Chaos in this book.
Unlike the other sigils with their ordered, geometric patterns, the Chaos sigil appeared as a swirling, asymmetrical design that seemed to shift slightly even as he looked at it. The annotations surrounding it were exactly what he suspected:
"_randomize()" — creating true unpredictability within spell effects
"_probability()" — adjusting likelihood of various outcomes
"_distribution()" — determining how chaotic energy dispersed
This was it—the missing element. The one modern academia had forgotten or deliberately erased. The element that, when combined with others, created what the Academy dismissively labeled "unstable attunements."
Vel's hands froze as he stared at the Chaos sigil. Then, without warning, a massive notification appeared before his mind's eye, overlaying his vision:
[ALL ELEMENTS DISCOVERED]
[NEW DATA UNLOCKED]
[PENDING...]
The world around him dissolved. The wooden chair beneath him, the musty smell of ancient parchment, the watchful gaze of the wood elf librarian—all vanished in an instant.
A vision gripped him, identical to what he'd experienced outside the Academy gates. Seven figures stood before him, each illuminated by a distinctive elemental glow—crimson fire, flowing blue water, earthy brown, swirling white air, radiant gold light, absorbing black darkness, and finally, a shifting prismatic aura that could only represent Chaos.
They formed a perfect circle, static and unmoving as if frozen in time. Their faces were indistinct at first, but then, simultaneously, all seven turned toward Vel's direction. Their gazes locked onto him, as if they could perceive his presence within this vision.
Their expressions transformed in unison—eyebrows raising, mouths parting. Was it surprise? Confusion? Or something deeper, more ominous... dread?
Vel tried to move closer, to speak, to reach out—but before he could make sense of what he was seeing, an invisible force yanked him downward. The world spun violently around him, colors blurring together as he spiraled back toward reality.
As consciousness returned, one final notification blinked before his eyes:
[New Item Received]
[Interface Updated]
Vel gasped, his senses flooding back as the vision released him. He blinked rapidly, trying to orient himself back in the small, quiet room of the library. His heart pounded in his chest, fingers still clutching the edges of the ancient tome.
That again. Another vision, just like outside the Academy gates.
Each time he discovered something significant about this world's true nature, these visions occurred. He was starting to recognize the pattern—it meant he'd reached another major milestone, a progress point of sorts. These moments signaled that the "system" was about to change in some fundamental way.
Vel took a deep breath, trying to recover from the disorientation. The pending notification still lingered at the edge of his consciousness.
"What happened?" The wood elf's voice cut through his thoughts. "Found something?"
She was staring at him with intensified scrutiny, her ancient eyes narrowed. Had she noticed his momentary absence? How long had he been lost in that vision?
"This book," Vel said carefully, gesturing to the open pages, "seems to show there are seven elements rather than what's being taught—six elements."
"Old knowledge. Grow dusty on shelves." She tapped a finger against the tome. "Academy teaches what Academy wants to teach."
Vel studied her face, trying to gauge her true thoughts. "What about you?" he asked boldly. "Do you think there are six or seven?"
The wood-elf's expression remained unreadable. For a moment, it seemed she might actually answer him, might share some ancient wisdom that her lifetime of reading had granted her.
Instead, she glanced at a small timepiece hanging from her belt.
"Hmph. Time's up. Get out." She began closing the tome, her small hands moving with practiced efficiency. "Polma have things to do."