The Imperial Library was a fortress of silence.
Located deep beneath the main administrative building, the Restricted Archives, Section Zero was guarded not by soldiers, but by Barriers and heavy runic locks. The air here was cool, dry, and centuries-old dust, preservation ink, and forgotten secrets.
It was midnight. The Academy above was asleep, but the history buried here was wide awake.
Arthev stood before the heavy iron gate of Section Zero. The elderly librarian, a man with a hunched back and thick glasses that magnified his eyes to owl-like proportions, examined the platinum key Arthev had presented. He checked the magical signature against a ledger, then looked up at the boy in the black uniform.
"The Crown Prince's personal access key," the librarian croaked, his voice sounding like rust scraping against metal.
"Rare for a student. You have three hours. Do not damage the pages. Do not remove anything from the premises. Do not cast any fire-attribute skills."
"I understand," Arthev said, bowing respectfully. "I am merely here to read."
The gate groaned open. Arthev stepped into the darkness, the heavy bars clanging shut behind him.
Inside, rows of towering bookshelves stretched into the shadows, disappearing into the gloom. The only light came from glowing moss-stones embedded in the ceiling, casting a pale, ghostly blue illumination over the spines of thousands of books.
'Spooky,' Shukaku muttered in Arthev's mind. 'Smells like dead trees and old men.'
'It smells like information,' Matatabi corrected, her voice sharp and eager.
'Arthev, this is the repository of the entire Heaven Dou Empire's history. If the information exists, it must be here.'
Arthev walked down the central aisle. He wasn't aimless. He moved with the precision of a predator stalking prey, his footsteps silent on the stone floor.
He located the section labeled Geography and Regional History: Western Border.
He pulled a thick, leather-bound tome from the shelf: The Chronicles of the Western Provinces – Year 1890 to Present.
He placed it on a reading table. He didn't read line by line. His shinragan scanned the pages rapidly, his enhanced perception processing the text instantly with the Tailed Beasts' assistance too.
'Scanning...' Matatabi projected. 'Target: Still Heart Village.'
Arthev flipped the pages. 2635... 2636... 2637...
He stopped.
His finger traced the entry for the date of the massacre.
Entry 412: Still Heart Village. Western Border Region.
Status: Destroyed.
Cause: Soul Beast Migration (Iron-Tusk Boar Stampede).
Casualties: Total. No survivors.
Note: Area quarantined due to residual beast aura and rampant vegetation growth.
Arthev stared at the text. His face was a mask of stone, but his internal world was freezing over.
"Boars," Arthev whispered, his voice dripping with ice. "They blamed it on pigs."
'A convenient lie,' Isobu whispered sadly. 'We saw the flames. We saw the people in black robes. We felt the time distortion. Boars do not use Soul Formations to trap a village in a loop.'
Arthev closed the book gently. This was expected. The local government would cover up a massacre they couldn't explain, simply to avoid panic. It was a bureaucratic erasure.
He moved to the next section. This was the real target.
Heretical Sects, Unauthorized Organizations, and Shadow Clans.
If the "Broken Circle" had a name, a history, or even a reputation, it would be here.
Arthev pulled down volume after volume.
The Cult of the Blood Vine.
The Shadow Dagger Sect.
Remnants of the Wolf Kingdom.
The Holy Ghost Church (Rumors).
He searched for the symbol.
A circle, broken at three points.
He scanned thousands of pages. He looked at drawings of flags, tattoos, crests, and ancient ruin markings. He looked for reports of "time manipulation" or "unknown assailants in black robes."
Hour one passed.
Hour two passed.
Arthev sat surrounded by stacks of books.
Encyclopedia of Spirit Hall Insignias. The Lost Clans of the Star Luo Empire. Dark Soul Master Registry.
Nothing.
Not a single drawing matched the Broken Circle. Not a single report mentioned a group with their specific methods.
'This is statistically improbable,' Matatabi said, her voice sounding puzzled.
'Even secret organizations leave footprints. They need resources. They need recruits. There should be rumors. Reports of strange deaths. Something.'
'Unless they don't operate in the light at all,' Arthev thought, staring at the empty table space.
He stood up and walked to the section on Unsolved Mysteries.
He flipped through reports of missing villages, strange phenomena, and unexplained deaths. He found dozens of cases, but none were linked. None were attributed to a specific group.
The library was silent, mocking him. The grand repository of the Empire, containing millions of facts, had absolutely zero information on that group.
Arthev leaned back against the bookshelf, closing his eyes.
"It's a void," Arthev whispered.
'What do you mean?' Shukaku asked.
"If they were a known 'Dark Sect', the Empire would hunt them. If they were a foreign power, the military would track them," Arthev analyzed coldly.
"But they aren't here. They don't exist in the records. That means they work in absolute shadow."
He looked at the rows of books.
"They are so secretive that even the Empire's spies don't know they exist. Or..."
He opened his eyes, the lavender irises glowing faintly.
"...or they are the ones holding the pen."
'So we hit a wall?' Isobu asked.
"No," Arthev replied. "We found the shape of the hole. If the history books are empty, it confirms that I am hunting ghosts. They leave no witnesses. They leave no banners. They strike, they erase, and they vanish."
He checked the time. He had twenty minutes left.
He couldn't leave empty-handed. If he walked out looking frustrated, it would raise suspicion. He needed to look like a student who had successfully researched his mutation.
Arthev walked to the Botany and Spirit Genetics section. He grabbed a complex theoretical book titled Theory of Plant Spirit Evolution: Environmental Stress Factors.
He tucked the book under his arm.
He walked back to the gate. The old librarian was dozing off but woke up as Arthev approached.
"Done?" the librarian grunted.
"Yes," Arthev said politely. "I found some fascinating theories on how heavy soil composition affects root density. May I borrow this?"
The librarian stamped the book. "Two weeks. Don't lose it."
Arthev walked out of the archives and up the stairs, emerging into the cool night air of the campus.
The moon was high.
He clutched the book on plant evolution, but his mind was still back in the archives, staring at the blank spaces in history.
'If the books don't know them,' Arthev thought, walking back to the dormitory, 'then I need to find people who live outside the books. People who deal in secrets that aren't written down.'
'Dugu Bo,' Matatabi suggested. 'The Poison Douluo. He is a Titled Douluo who operates independently. He hates the Spirit Hall. He has lived a long time in the shadows of the cultivation world. He might know rumors that never made it to paper.'
'And his granddaughter is currently terrified of you,' Shukaku cackled.
Arthev looked at the golden token of the Prince in his other hand.
"The books failed," Arthev whispered to the night. "So now we turn to the living legends."
He put the key away. The investigation had hit a dead end on paper, but Arthev was patient. If the Broken Circle was hiding in the dark, he would just have to burn the whole forest down to find them.
But first, he had to survive high school.
To be continued....