In those labyrinthine corridors, Shawn had already regained consciousness.
"Fate is a concept."
"If such a concept is taken away, then the part of the world that belongs to this concept will be polluted. For example, humanity's lost knowledge, humanity's distorted reproduction methods, and even humanity's normal cycles of life and death."
Shawn's current information isn't much because the final spell was interrupted; he only looked at half of that black book.
"Knowledge has been polluted. Knowledge is a living thing."
"Mysterious knowledge is even more dangerous, harboring madness and chaos, like a virus."
While using Reading Magic to grasp mysterious knowledge, Shawn felt madness and pain in his heart, as if that mysterious knowledge was trying to erode his brain, and he risked mental disorder with any carelessness.
His current situation is very dangerous.
His astounding Inspiration Talent makes all the 'indescribable illusions' want to obtain him.
Now Shawn must use his own cognition to reinterpret this bizarre world.
Because this is the first step in ascending to become a spellcaster.
"To understand the world in my own way."
"Complete the ascension."
Shawn murmured to himself: "Then in my eyes, what does this world look like?"
Mrs. Hecate is very generous.
As a teacher, while others are still teaching apprentices how to master a spell or a certain ability, Mrs. Hecate has already handed the general outline of transcendent ascension to Shawn, which is to understand this world and know where the origin of the power of transcendents lies.
Use your own cognition to reinterpret the world, and finally, in the ascension ceremony, obtain the caster's primitive magic power.
"Cannot know too much, or will go mad and die."
"But cannot know too little, or will become blind and stupid." Mrs. Hecate's many words are enigmatic and obscure.
So does it require one to guess on their own?
As a glimmer of light appeared ahead, Shawn saw the Butcher waiting by the door, resembling a mountain of flesh.
"Let's go." The Butcher nodded slightly.
Passing through that long overhead corridor again, the Butcher said in a deep voice: "From now on, your working hours are in the morning, and in the afternoon, you can come to Mrs. Hecate."
"She's generally available in the afternoon."
If there's anything you need, you can tell me, and I will prepare it for you."
"Of course, the cost will be deducted from your salary."
Shawn nodded lightly: "Okay."
The two returned to the original place, and the Butcher prepared another small room for Shawn.
"You can now deal with your own matters."
"Dinner in an hour and a half." The Butcher removed the blood-stained apron from the wall, while on an iron rack not far away, something covered in black cloth seemed like a huge mountain of flesh.
He now needs to work.
Inside the room.
Shawn was still thinking about how to ascend to become a true caster, or rather, he was trying in his own way to reinterpret this world.
Mrs. Hecate had given him many things, but unfortunately, he couldn't fully grasp them yet.
"Knowledge will teach you magic."
This single sentence was enough for Shawn to ponder for a long time.
"The first step for a caster to gain power is to reinterpret this world, and then get feedback from it."
"This is primitive magic power."
"The closer all cognition is to the essence of the world, the more dangerous it is, but the stronger the feedback received."
In the room, Shawn fumbled around, found a sheet of white paper, a quill pen, and ink, he randomly scribbled something on the white paper, murmuring: "Understand the world."
"This world should have been normal."
He began to recall the knowledge he saw from the black book, those words were etched in his mind, ready to be recalled at any moment.
This way of learning is convenient but not easy.
At least currently, Shawn sees that magic in this world is not achieved by loudly reciting a spell and then consuming some magic power.
"A mysterious side world with relatively high civilization, besides humans, there are other races."
"Yes, it's somewhat like a mysterious side Fantasy Realm."
Shawn sensed the agitation of knowledge because with his random scribble, those symbols representing knowledge were moving on the white paper, like little tadpoles of ink gathering, possessing their own life and spirituality.
But when he focused again, the scribbles remained the same.
"Mysterious knowledge." Shawn's expression gradually became solemn.
Once mysterious knowledge is written down, it is imbued with life and spirituality. Shawn's murmurs, the fleeting thoughts in his mind, all belong to mysterious knowledge.
This knowledge is the hidden secret of the world, only the transcendent can read it.
For example, the things Shawn doodles casually might just be random scribbles in the eyes of ordinary people, but in the eyes of the Transcendent, they are the words fleeting through Shawn's mind.
This is very idealistic.
Because the mysterious Knowledge Shawn understands cannot be deciphered from the mere textual symbols seen by the naked eye.
They are shrouded by blind foolishness.
"Then."
"The Unnamable ancient existence became aware of this world."
Shawn felt he needed a bit of imagination; Lady Hecate only told him to recognize the world to gain Primitive Magic Power, but didn't instruct him on how to perceive it, merely handing him a book to ponder on his own.
Is this a Mad world endowed with Supernatural Power?
Such understanding is clearly insufficient.
Not enough to support Shawn in becoming a Transcendent and acquiring the Primitive Magic Power to cast Magic.
"They descended upon this world."
"Or rather, their will entered this world, and the age of turmoil began." Shawn began to recall the Knowledge he saw using Reading Magic, seeking information about the age of turmoil, but unfortunately, there wasn't much.
The doodles Shawn penned began to change again.
"In the age of turmoil, as these ancient and unnamable descended, the order of the world gradually collapsed, and civilization fell into decay and madness."
Shawn could only try to conjecture to fill in the missing parts.
He always has a feeling now that his initiation ritual might not be like others, as Lady Hecate seemingly had him tackle a history quiz, urging him to complete his recognition of the world from history.
Unfortunately, he couldn't finish reading that book.
"The Dark Age has come, the ancient Old Ones further entered this world, and they seized the world's destiny, or some corresponding Conceptual Law, and the Old World gradually moved towards destruction, other races were obliterated, with mankind as the sole survivor."
"The world was transformed into a Mad Realm suitable for Evil Objects to inhabit, which is why they say this world once fell."
"The Bizarre Realm was thus born."
Shawn felt it.
With a slight tingling on his scalp, he felt a bit of cool and slippery presence, like intangible tentacles brushing past his body, causing goosebumps all over and unable to discern what it really was, but it was entering his body little by little.
This might be what Lady Hecate referred to as Primitive Magic Power, the feedback the world grants to the Caster, the source of all Supernatural Power.
Yet it felt somewhat disgusting.
"The Power of all Transcendents is stolen, the Warrior seizes the Origin of Life from the filth of flesh and blood, the Caster pilfers Primitive Magic Power from the illusory Knowledge."
This is the Primitive Magic Power!
Shawn now felt incredibly nauseous because that Primitive Magic Power felt like an invisible mental tentacle, unconsciously sweeping over his body, as if those mysterious Knowledge and Shawn's recognition of the world attracted its arrival.
"This is definitely not the kind of Magic Power that the Fantasy Realm should possess!"
"At least Magic Power shouldn't be like this!"
The Primitive Magic Power entered Shawn's body; it had Life, but no Spirituality, compared to the living Knowledge, Primitive Magic Power, it, should be referred to as it, was not active, nor could any emotional consciousness be felt.
While reading the black book, Shawn experienced pain and madness, emotions left by the one who wrote the book when recording mystical Knowledge.
But Primitive Magic Power had none; its thought consciousness seemed like that of a single-celled organism.
Primitive Magic Power was incredibly vast!
Chaos, disorder, madness, ignorance, eeriness, Shawn didn't know what words to use to describe this behemoth.
It had no physical form.
Shawn could only sense the vague existence of Primitive Magic Power, like a vast unconscious mental entity enveloping the entire world.
"We are thieves."
Shawn now somewhat understood Lady Hecate's words; he needed to steal a portion of Extraordinary Power belonging to him from this behemoth.
Ritual.
Shawn began arranging the ritual, using shredded paper strips to lay a net around him, a net about three meters in diameter, with Shawn standing at the center of the grid. Lady Hecate had mentioned that the first ritual for a Caster's ascension is the simplest, requiring only a traditional ritual called the 'Magic Net' woven with materials containing mysterious Knowledge.
And the doodles Shawn just wrote down were the mystical Knowledge.
Buzz!
As the ritual Shawn arranged completed, the shredded paper strips began to ignite with deep purple flames, each mystical Knowledge swam like tadpoles, gathering into intricately woven black runes, resembling a giant pitch-black spiderweb, capturing and slicing the intangible tentacles brushing past Shawn's body.
"Undying Touch."
"Detect Emotions."
"Secret Hand."
Shawn finally understood what Lady Hecate meant by 'Knowledge will teach you Magic,' because within the invisible tentacles sliced by the 'net,' he obtained Knowledge, new mystical Knowledge, inscribed with Extraordinary Power.
The dissolving Primitive Magic Power surged into Shawn's body, Magic Power wrapping like a gray mist, enveloping the mystical Knowledge, streaming into the depths of his mind with his breath.
——"Secret Hand!"
The quill in front of Shawn's sight was lifted as if by an invisible hand. When he slightly shifted in Confusion, he saw a large black hand emitting a ghostly aura emerging from his back, the invisible, naked-eye invisible black ghost hand clutching the quill on the table, drawing a pentagram on the blank paper.
.........