At this moment, Lucan remained in seclusion. The grand library, bathed in sunlight, stood silently as its bell tolled from above. Dust motes floated in the air like glimmering stars behind the tightly closed doors.
But Maria hadn't lied to Anastasia—today truly was the day Lucan would emerge.
[Day 320. This was your seventh day of seclusion in the Kremlin's library. In ancient myth, God created the world in seven days. You are not God—but you believed that in seven days, you could sort through your gains and lay the groundwork for your mystic system.]
[You didn't expect to forge a complete family magic foundation so quickly—those take generations to develop. As Lucan Lovist, you had little time to spare—but no need to rush.]
[Seven days were enough.]
[Today was the final day.]
[At sunrise, you organized everything you had learned.]
[You had mastered the use of 'miracles.' Raised in a monastery, you were no stranger to faith. Once you understood the principles, applying them came easily. But you had no link to the Church's thaumaturgical foundation. Your miracles stemmed from your soul—not divine grace. This wasn't a blessing. It was an outward manifestation of your inner will.]
[This, too, was a kind of Magecraft—a hybrid of miracle and Magecraft born of the soul.]
[It drew from Magecraft, but unlike Magecraft, it used the miracles of the present rather than phenomena of the past.]
[The past is fixed: set formulas, attributes, mystic quantities.]
[The present holds infinite possibilities.]
[In this new framework, what you imagine can become Magecraft.]
[You defined your new system thus: Magecraft of the Soul.]
[Still in its infancy, it was like a budding seed. Fragile now, but destined to grow into a towering tree with deep roots in mystery.]
[It was your first step toward crafting a legacy rooted in the real world.]
[You began to record.]
Inside the silent library, Lucan sat cross-legged on the cold tile floor. His dark priest's robes fluttered in the slight autumn breeze through the high windows. He took a deep breath, feeling the shift within himself from merging miracle and Magecraft.
"I really am a genius," he mused. But he knew better—he owed much to the Clock Tower's far more refined system from decades in the future. In a world where mystery fades, Magecraft had evolved to preserve it with precision and complexity.
The strength of ancient spells may have waned—but their conceptual sophistication had grown.
In truth, Lucan was leveraging the arts of the future to master the miracles of the present and encompass the mysteries of the past.
Now, only one task remained:
To record it.
In books. In diagrams.
And in the very fabric of the world.
Every new form of Magecraft, every miracle, must go through this process—planting a seed in the soil so it may take root.
[You began to record.]
The books around you opened of their own accord, pages rustling in the breeze.
Lucan opened a blank volume and began to write his theories and insights.
[You continued recording.]
Ink spread across the pages, bleeding through.
[You kept writing.]
[You were completely absorbed. Your thoughts drifted through past, present, and future—as though reaching beyond time.]
["Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law."]
["What you will shall become real."]
[You wrote these words.]
[And suddenly, your thoughts took form.]
In Lucan's vision, imagination became activation.
This was the defining feature of his Magecraft of the Soul—if one had enough mana and mystery, one could make any thought real.
Lucan didn't have enough mana yet. His seed was still unplanted, unfed. Many of his ideas remained theoretical.
But even theories, under miracle's influence, bore fruit.
He no longer needed preparation. No need to prepare rituals or paths. A single thought became a spell.
True, only the simplest spells—illusions, for now—but that was enough.
He thought of the man who founded modern Magecraft.
The First Magician. The Saint of Saints. Solomon.
And in that moment—he saw Solomon.
[An echo from the past. An illusion.]
[Born of your thoughts, manifested by the world's phantom record.]
[You met eyes across time. You could not see his face clearly—but you felt his gaze.]
[The First Magician. King of Saints. You remembered his two great revelations: once when God spoke to him, establishing him as a king; and once before his death, when he created Magecraft and miracle.]
[One moment defined him as man. The other, as god.]
[You had already revealed your first mystery.]
[You knew the second lay not far off.]
[Your final strokes finished.]
[You looked at the completed manuscript—and wrote the title.]
[You named your system.]
"The Book of the Law."
With a soft thud, Lucan closed the book. The sunlight fell on his face as he held it to his chest.
The world looked the same—but everything had changed.
"Maybe I should've named myself Aleister," he joked.
"But he's probably already alive. Don't want to get sued."
[At this moment, Magecraft was born.]
[Still fragile, but the seed of mystery had been sown. It would grow.]
[With every reincarnation, you would take it to older eras, into deeper mysteries.]
[It would evolve with you. Grow ancient. Grow powerful.]
[The older it became, the stronger it would be.]
[The stronger it became, the older it would seem.]
[You still believed in this.]
...
"The Book of the Law."
"In the world of mystery, there is more than one book with that name. But today's subject is a manuscript from the late Tsarist era—written by the man who rose to power with Nicholas II's trust: Lucan Lovist."
"He was called the most dangerous and audacious man in the world. In his book, he wrote: 'Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.'"
"In this book, he combined 'miracle' and 'Magecraft'—two forces that should stand on opposite ends of the mystic spectrum. He used miracles of the soul to manifest the past's Magecraft. A bizarre, unbelievable feat."
"We may never understand how he did it—or how a man reviled by both the Church and the Mage's Association escaped their wrath."
"But though many cursed his name, his ideas survived—and deeply influenced magi and churchmen alike."
"He was a madman. A rebel. But maybe... he was also a pioneer."
—Waver Velvet, Lord El-Melloi II, Modern Magecraft Studies Lecture, 2004.