The voice from the Book of Nox didn't merely speak—it thundered through Nova's very soul, vibrating in every drop of mana within him.
"You seek power, little sealer?" it intoned.
The pages flipped on their own, a windless gust stirring the air. Candles reignited, their flames burning black. From that void of light stepped an old man, draped in a tattered black cloak, his face hidden beneath a shadow-swallowing hood.
His presence felt heavy and ancient—older than the mountains themselves.
"I am the keeper of the Nox," he rasped, voice cracked by dust and time. "And you, Nova Loid, have called me."
Nova reeled backward, heart hammering. "W-what are you?"
"That answer comes later," the figure replied. "This is no mere grimoire. It is a contract—granting its bearer power beyond this world's bounds."
He raised a gnarled hand. Black light coalesced around him, swirling like molten night.
"In this world, every mage follows exactly one path—Weapon, Caster, or Sealer. One element. One destiny. But the Book of Nox can shatter that chain. It grants you the right to all three paths—Weapon Mage, Caster, and Sealer, simultaneously."
Nova's eyes widened. "That's… impossible."
The old man chuckled. "Impossible, yes—and yet real. But heed this: you may keep only one element. Choose carefully."
Silence settled over the library. Dust drifted like suspended stars. Nova bowed his head, thoughts spiraling.
"If I choose this… if I accept… can I rewrite my fate?"
The keeper hesitated, then a grin flickered beneath the hood. "Everything depends on your actions."
Memories struck Nova like blades—his grandfather's dreams, the villagers' mockery, Walter's silence, his own endless struggle. He clenched his fists, trembling not with fear but resolve.
"Then I accept."
A faint smile curved the old man's lips. He lifted his staff and the Book of Nox flared like a tiny sun, white light consuming the room.
Then came the agony.
Nova's body burned with invisible fire. He gasped as veins glowed, shifting from gold to crimson to pure black. It wasn't burning—it was rewriting.
He screamed once before the world went silent. Everything faded to white.
When Nova awoke, the room lay still and cold. Every seal had vanished from belt and flesh.
But within him surged something new, something vast. Three cores pulsed inside him—three distinct mana resonances, each alive and rotating in perfect harmony. A normal mage wields one. He had three.
He closed his eyes and saw glowing runes and words fill his vision—spells tailored to his mind: Weapon magics, Caster arts, seals, all alive within him as if memories he'd always known.
Books were no longer necessary. The knowledge lived in him.
Realization dawned, and his eyes blazed red like molten crystal.
"Fire Style… Weapon Magic. Fire Style… Caster Art. Fire Style… Seal," he whispered, awe trembling in his voice. He had crossed a line no one dared dream of. Yet silently he vowed, "No one must know."
He would hide his strength, wait, and rise quietly.
At that moment the ground shook violently. A low tremor swelled into a deafening roar as the library walls cracked, shelves toppled, scrolls scattered like feathers. Outside explosions thundered, and a wave of mana so dense it stole his breath rolled in.
Nova staggered to the window. The night sky over Aldren Village burned red—a firestorm racing down from the cliffs.
For the first time since his awakening, his new power called to him.
"It's beginning…" he whispered.
Beside him, the Book of Nox glowed faintly, its pages turning on their own. Far away, the hooded old man's voice murmured:
"Let the flame of fate begin to burn."