The floor was still cold. His spine ached slightly from sitting too long.
Adrian hadn't moved in minutes.
The first two Scriptures rested quietly beside him — the Death one like a threat that hadn't finished talking, the Contradiction one like a question with no correct answer. Both sat heavy in their own way.
But the third…
He turned his gaze to it.
It looked the most ordinary.
That alone made him wary.
The book was wrapped in golden thread, smooth and veiled like it didn't need to be understood — only obeyed. Unlike the others, it didn't seem to pulse with curse or contradiction. It didn't warn you.
It invited you.
That was worse.
Adrian studied it in silence.
It didn't bleed. It didn't shimmer. It didn't reflect anything except expectation.
"...Knowledge is power," he muttered.
It was something professors used to say. Something motivational posters pretended was wise. Something harmless. Harmless — until it wasn't.
He reached forward. His hand hovered over the cover like he was about to touch something sacred or poisonous. Maybe both.
Then he exhaled, slow.
"Let's see what you think you know."
His fingers touched the thread.
It uncoiled instantly — not like it was unwrapping, but like it was unlearning itself. Layer by layer, the veil fell away.
The book opened on its own.
The title didn't appear right away. Instead, the page shimmered until focus locked onto a single idea. Not a phrase. Not a sentence.
A Law.
The Law of Knowing"There is no ignorance — only willful blindness.The world is a system. The self is its shifting variable.What is known grants control. What is unknown becomes danger without shape."
Knowledge is power.Knowledge is destruction.Knowledge is weight — and it never forgets who lifted it.
He stared.
He read it again.
"...Shit."
It didn't seduce. It didn't frighten. It revealed.
No veil. No mask. Just the quiet, unbearable pressure of something that had already measured him and was now waiting to see what he'd do with the result.
This wasn't poetry. This was math, dressed in prophecy.
And it kept speaking — not in voice, but in weight.
He turned the page.
There were no commandments. No symbols. No grand overture.
Just a set of instructions, written in calm, unshakable lettering.
How to Make the Vow(Scripture of Knowledge)
• Become a Scholar — or one whose title bears the weight of wisdom.• Enter a place of absolute silence and lightless depth.• Remove both eyes. Offer them to the flame as proof of your hunger.• In darkness, meditate for thirty days.Reflect upon your ignorance, your insignificance, your fragile claim to knowing.Understand how little you truly are — and how much you do not know.• When the veil lifts and Enlightenment opens its eye —Speak these words:
"I vow to see all things that wish to be hidden.Let no truth pass unseen, no ignorance remain sacred.Where I walk, knowledge awakens — and power follows."
Adrian read the passage once.
Then again.
He wasn't sure what hit harder — the eye removal or the thirty-day isolation.
"...This one's not subtle," he muttered.
His eyes scanned back to the first line.
Become a Scholar.A simple requirement on paper. But the meaning was clear — this Path didn't accept anyone still figuring themselves out. You had to already be recognized as intelligent. A title wasn't just formality — it was proof.
It was a barrier.
Adrian could clear that one. Barely.
He moved on.
Enter a place of silence and darkness.Not just a quiet room. Not just a basement. It had to be completely silent — and completely dark. No sound. No light. No contact.
Complete isolation.
His shoulders tensed slightly.
He didn't like silence.
But this wasn't punishment. It was preparation.
Then came the hard part.
Remove both eyes. Offer them to the flame.
He exhaled slowly.
That wasn't symbolic. It was direct. Physical. Painful. Permanent.
"Rip out my eyes and burn them," he said under his breath. "Right. Just like that."
Why? Because this path wasn't about ordinary sight. It was about learning things that couldn't be seen with the body. You gave up what you relied on to prove you were serious.
Then came the longest step.
Meditate for thirty days.
No food mentioned. No contact. Just thirty days in the dark — blind — thinking.
About what?
Your own ignorance. Your own limits.You had to accept how much you didn't know. Not in theory — but personally. Deeply.
That was the hardest part for most people.
Not pain.
Not time.
But admitting they were small.
And after all that — once you'd been broken down to the core — then you could speak.
"I vow to see all things that wish to be hidden.Let no truth pass unseen, no ignorance remain sacred.Where I walk, knowledge awakens — and power follows."
Adrian lowered the book slightly.
"This isn't just a vow," he said quietly. "It's a test of how far someone's willing to go."
It wasn't designed to impress.
It was designed to stop most people from ever trying.
He could respect that.
But he also knew this kind of power didn't come for free. You had to give something up — and in this case, it wasn't just eyes.
It was comfort.
It was control.
It was the right to not know.
He didn't look away from the page.
"…And if I fail? What then?"
He already knew the answer.
You either completed the vow — or you lost yourself in the process.
There was no middle.
He turned the page without a word.
Ready to see what came next.
Rank 12: Acolyte"Begin with questions. End with flame."
Adrian frowned.
"…That's not how an answer works."
He flipped the page anyway.
Elemental Initiation
Choose one element:Fire, Ice, Earth, Lightning, or Water.
Immediately gain access to basic, single-target spells:• Firebolt — fast-burning projectile• Ice Spike — piercing freeze dart• Static Pulse — quick shock• Stone Dart — sharp, forceful shard
Range: 10–20 metersDamage: Light to moderate. Non-lethal against armored targets unless you aim somewhere unarmored. Like a face.
Adrian blinked.
"So… I pick up a book… and now I can shoot fire from my hands?"
He glanced at the other two Scriptures beside him.
"Death made me dig a grave and eat my name. Contradiction made me lie to myself until reality cracked."
Then he pointed at the glowing golden book in front of him.
"You. You gave me existential crisis and now I'm a fire mage."
He looked back at the page.
There was more.
Arcane Focus Channeling
Use a staff, ring, or arcane lens to stabilize your spells.Focuses increase casting speed and aim precision — not raw damage.They help you hit the mark, not make the mark explode harder.
Adrian narrowed his eyes.
"Right. Precision. Because throwing lightning just felt too casual."
Spell Geometry Recognition
The Acolyte can scan their environment for elemental patterns:• Heat zones• Ground fractures• Magnetic fields• Moisture pockets
This helps with setting up rune traps or knowing when not to, say, cast a fire spell in a gas-filled cavern.
He muttered under his breath, "So basically… tactical destruction."
He had to admit — this wasn't dumb power.
This was smart power. Measured. Targeted. Controlled.
That made it more dangerous.
Mutation – Glyph-Etched Pupils
Small arcane runes appear in the Acolyte's irises when casting. They glow based on the active element.
Cool to look at.
Also a glowing neon sign that says "Hey, I'm about to launch a fireball."
Adrian made a face.
"Useful, stylish, and also tactically terrible."
He moved on.
Hidden Benefit – Rune Trap Imprint
The Acolyte can inscribe up to two runes into small objects — coins, daggers, rocks.
Each rune triggers a small elemental burst when activated.
Range: 5–10 meters.Cooldown: 1 hour after detonation.
The result depends on the chosen element
Adrian paused, slowly mouthing the words again.
"…I can turn a rock into a grenade."
He stared at the glowing page.
Then, at the book itself.
Then back at the page.
"…Are you sure you're the Scripture of Knowledge?" he asked slowly. "Why are you so violent?"
There was no reply, of course.
Just the lingering aura of polite, intellectual menace.
He looked down at the rune trap details again.
"I signed up for magical research," he said flatly. "You handed me a rock and said, 'Make it explode.'"
He rubbed his temple.
"Do all scholars in this world like to commit war crimes?"
He folded his arms, leaned back, and sighed.
"Death made me dig a grave and swallow bone. Contradiction made me carve off my face and lie to myself for three days."
He tapped the Scripture of Knowledge with one finger.
"You? You turned me into a walking science fair with detonation privileges."
Another pause.
Then, dry:
"Somehow, your power is the most destructive one so far."
He ran a hand through his hair, eyes narrowed in thought.
Combat Use
Limited-range caster.Low damage output.High tactical potential.
Best used to support allies, set traps, or control movement in small areas.
He leaned back, slowly.
Then looked at the Scripture like it had personally betrayed him.
"I thought this path was about learning."
A pause.
"I thought I'd be doing research. Maybe solving some puzzles. Writing some elegant equations. Not—"
He held up an imaginary coin and mimed throwing it.
"—not turning spare change into fire landmines."
He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.
"You give this to the wrong kind of *scholar* especially someone crazy enough to conduct a vow ritual and they're gonna level a city by accident."
He turned the page.
No long descriptions this time.
Just titles.
Clean. Straightforward.
Deceptively normal.
Rank 11: Senior Researcher"Knows what others overlook. Sees what others deny."
Adrian gave a slow, suspicious nod.
"Okay. That… still sounds like academia. So far, so good."
He kept reading.
Rank 10: Elemental Arcanist"Wields the raw patterns of the world — and calls them spell."
He paused.
"…Right. Bit dramatic, but fine."
Then came the next.
Rank 9: Alchemist"Turns theory into weapon. Transforms truth into ash."
Adrian blinked.
"…What kind of thesis defense ends in combustion?"
He squinted at the book now, like it had just said something deeply offensive.
"You're telling me potion-making comes after playing with lightning?"
Then he hit the last one.
Rank 8: Elemental Wizard"No longer a student. No longer subtle. When they speak, the sky answers."
There was a silence.
A long, painful silence.
Adrian slowly closed the book.
Placed it on the floor.
Stared at it.
Then pointed a finger at it like it was a suspect in a crime scene.
"So let me get this straight."
He took a deep breath.
"In this world, a scholar isn't someone who reads in a library. No. A scholar is a goddamn combat wizard who throws lightning, blows up doorways, and levels forests because they understand 'the shape of heat.'"
He opened the book again, flipped back a few pages, then forward again just to make sure he hadn't misread anything.
He hadn't.
"Is this normal here?" he asked the air. "Is this just what education means now? Do you guys hand out fireballs with diplomas?"
He stood up, paced once, then sat back down hard.
"I came here thinking I might find a path that made sense. Something logical. Something intellectual. But no. Turns out knowing things means turning physics into artillery."
He pointed at the rank list again.
"And you people made researchers more dangerous than soldiers."