The third level of the Great Library of Silverstar.
Reyn sat at a table in the reading area. An open book lay before him, his gaze focused, occasionally flashing with deep contemplation. Other mages passing by couldn't help but feel respect, seeing his dedication to study.
Over the past few days, rumors had spread among the library's inhabitants about the outsider devouring magical knowledge with insatiable greed. They said he could sit with books for half a day, barely speaking to anyone. His striking appearance and bearing left a deep impression.
Young sorceresses were especially interested in him. They discreetly inquired about his origins, casually sat across from him, but all they got was a restrained nod. Reyn didn't favor them with even a single smile; his face remained impassive, like a mechanical golem's mask.
"Just another bookworm..." they thought disappointedly, and being tactful girls, they troubled him no more.
None of them suspected that beneath the mask of calm composure lay frenzied activity. Every day, thousands of books migrated into his mind. In less than a week, Reyn had copied more than half of the third level's folios—the priceless repository of magical knowledge.
Moreover, he discovered another astonishing feature of his personal library. Reading books through his phone's interface, he absorbed information many times faster than normal reading. It was as if his brain, with direct access to the data, operated at peak capacity. He grasped the vast majority of concepts instantly, without the slightest difficulty.
His efficiency was incredible. A two- or three-hundred-page book took him less than an hour. And this wasn't superficial skimming, but deep, thoughtful reading. The knowledge was fully assimilated, becoming part of his own memory, as if engraved in his brain. This was photographic memory in its absolute form.
When Reyn fully realized this ability, euphoria washed over him. For a former librarian and avid book lover, there could be no greater gift. He was on cloud nine.
In the following days, he immersed himself completely in the ocean of knowledge. Like a sponge, he soaked it up, and the process seemed endless. He paid no attention to the dressed-up sorceresses appearing before him. At another time, he might have been tempted to flirt, but now even a fleeting glance seemed a waste of time. Besides, none of them could compare to Viola in beauty or figure.
"Though they say wildflowers smell sweeter than cultivated ones, my cultivated flower hasn't been plucked yet," he mused. "And even if it had, am I that kind of man?"
After sitting motionless for several hours like a statue, Reyn finally closed the book in front of him.
"Phew..." he exhaled softly, creating the illusion that he'd finished reading.
In reality, he had finished the book—but on his phone. It was a treatise by an unknown mage titled "Research on Beam Spells." It detailed various spells of this type: the fiery "Scorching Ray," icy "Frost Ray," electric "Lightning Ray," earthen "Petrifying Ray," and, especially important for Reyn, the "Prismatic Ray."
Until now, it had been his only attack spell. Before, he'd cast it instinctively, simply channeling the element with soul force. After reading the treatise, Reyn realized how primitive his approach had been: slow casting, lack of focus, wasteful soul force expenditure, unstable power, poor timing... His technique seemed clumsy compared to the honed mastery described in the book.
The author broke down the proper way to cast the "Prismatic Ray," from the element's nature to the nuances of soul force interaction with arcane energy. Every step, every detail was meticulously explained. The book covered methods to conserve power, speed up casting, control direction and duration. It included exercises and the author's personal tips.
Moreover, the treatise outlined paths for further improvement: increasing the beam's diameter for more power; controlling range, where shortening could be more effective than lengthening; using the beam as a cutting weapon like a sword. Through fine study of the element, one could learn to trigger not random, but specific effects from the beam's seven negative ones. The author even speculated on making the beam curve, split, or change shape. Combined with metamagic techniques like "Multiple Spell," the "Prismatic Ray" could turn from a pinpoint attack into an area-effect spell.
Reyn was stunned. A seemingly simple spell became a tool with countless variations in this master's hands. And this was just beam spells. How many unexplored depths lay in thousands of other charms?
"Magical art is truly boundless," he thought with awe.
"Cassius Brankia."
Reyn mentally pronounced the author's name. It was unfamiliar. Likely, this mage wasn't widely known. But that wasn't a problem. He immediately searched his personal library.
A faint warmth bloomed in his mind, and the next instant, a list of all mentions of Cassius Brankia appeared before him, sorted by relevance—like a search engine. Selecting a result teleported him to the corresponding page. It was incredibly convenient. Of course, such operations cost energy—two or three searches equaled one charge unit.
Scanning several links, Reyn quickly learned who Cassius Brankia was. He was a high-rank elementalist from the Mage Tower, living decades ago and teaching at the Silverstar Academy for years. He was renowned for beam spell research and one of the strongest mages below legendary rank. Later, seeking a breakthrough to legendary, he left the Tower and never returned. No one knew where he went. Friends searched, but in vain. Foreseeing he wouldn't return, he'd left his works in the Great Library.
The treatise Reyn read was just a copy. But even that proved priceless.
"Once back, I'll immediately train my 'Prismatic Ray' using this book's method," Reyn decided. Now he had a clear plan for developing his magical abilities.
He returned the book to its place and checked the time. It was already evening. Today he'd copied over four thousand volumes, and his phone's charge was nearly zero. Time to wrap up.
Leaving the library, Reyn, following tradition, prayed at the Goddess statue and headed for the academy exit, choosing a new, unexplored route this time.
The main gates were in sight, and Reyn had almost resigned himself to not finding his target today either. But suddenly, a familiar figure flashed ahead.
"Finally!"
Reyn's Eye of the Soul was always active, and he instantly recognized the black-red faith flame blazing over the man's head. It was so bright it seemed almost tangible.
Evidently, the man had just returned to the academy and was alone. Reyn reacted lightning-fast. Spotting him from afar, he veered off and slowed, avoiding a face-to-face encounter—that could give him away due to the Seal of Discord. Out of sight, he switched to the Voice of All Things, tracking footsteps.
Soon, the fifth-rank mage entered the academy and strolled deeper into the grounds. He acted completely normally. Reyn didn't turn, kept his distance, and stayed out of sight.
"He's heading to the teachers' residential quarter?" Reyn guessed.
The Silverstar Academy grounds were vast. Separate housing zones for students and teachers offered excellent conditions. Each teacher had their own house for full privacy.
Having memorized the academy layout, Reyn circled the quarter and approached from the other side, still listening.
"Good evening, Teacher Sofman," came a student's voice.
Then the man's reply.
After several such greetings, Reyn was sure—his target was named Sofman. He sighed in relief. Knowing the name would make finding info much easier. The academy had only a few dozen teachers, each with schedules. Uncovering this dark god follower's routine would be simple.
Soon he reached the residential quarter. Not wanting to arouse suspicion, Reyn didn't enter but sat on a roadside bench, pretending to rest, and continued surveillance via sound.
Sofman soon entered a house. Others were inside—servants, by the talk. His footsteps echoed on the first floor, then second, before he stepped onto the balcony. Clinking dishes suggested he settled there for tea.
Reyn waited patiently.
Night fell. Crystal lanterns lit the academy. Sofman descended for dinner, rested a bit more, then retired to a room like a study. Rustling pages and pen scratches followed.
Reyn sat over an hour on the bench but heard nothing useful. Sofman barely spoke, muttering spell fragments—clearly studying magic. Without seeing the faith flame firsthand, Reyn would never suspect him as a dark god follower.
Still, Reyn knew: anyone bold enough to infiltrate Silverstar Academy was a master of disguise and wouldn't slip easily. Patience was needed for his chance.
Ending surveillance, Reyn left the academy. He hailed a carriage but went not to Vigo Manor, but to the "Basilik" tavern. Telling the driver to wait, he entered and soon exited carrying a large box wrapped in black cloth.
When the carriage reached the manor, Reyn stepped out with the box. Viola met him at the door.
"Reyn, why so late? Lost in the library and forgot time?" she asked warmly, like a wife greeting her husband. She wore a silk house robe. Turning to the maid, she ordered: "Have the kitchen serve reheated dinner."
Once the maid left, Reyn shook his head.
"We'll hold off on dinner. First, I want to show you something."
"Is this the gift you mentioned?"
Viola had long noticed the box. Her lake-blue eyes sparkled with anticipation.
"Yes," Reyn smiled, ascending the stairs. "Let's go upstairs."
"Such mystery..." she whispered, her curiosity growing by the second.
They entered her bedroom. Reyn set the box on the table and said:
"You can open it."
Viola, unable to hide her excitement, approached and yanked off the black cloth.
But seeing the contents, she froze, bewilderment in her eyes.
A strange object stood before her. Most prominent was a metal horn like a blooming flower, made of copper, rough-looking. It attached to a wooden box with a flat black disc atop it. A handle protruded from the side.
With her vast experience appraising valuables—from enchanted equipment to alchemical ingredients—Viola had seen many rarities. Even unknown items, she could roughly gauge. But this device baffled her. No trace of magic. It seemed some mechanical apparatus.
She examined it a while but understood nothing.
"What is it?" she asked, fixing her beautiful eyes on Reyn.
Reyn smirked. Her reaction was predictable. If she'd recognized the gramophone, that would be surprising.
"The result of my month's research. A mechanical device I call the 'gramophone,'" Reyn stated shamelessly.
"Gramophone?" Viola seemed to grasp something.
Reyn approached, gripped the handle, and gave several quick turns, winding the spring mechanism. The disc on the spindle spun. He gently lowered the needle onto the record.
Instantly, smooth melody poured from the horn. The sound was slightly distorted but clear enough for Viola to recognize "Viola by the Lake" at once.
Listening to the familiar notes, she froze in amazement.