Standing before the hexagon, I steeled my resolve.

Since I’d come this far, I might as well explore the rooms beyond.

My mild obsessive tendencies demanded I uncover every secret here before diving into the magic archives. What if unknown dangers lurked where I hadn’t looked? That’d be disastrous.

I pressed the darker hexagon. Sure enough, faint violet veins flared across the wall. Under my tense gaze, a door split open down the center.

Beyond lay utter darkness—not even my rose badge’s glow penetrated it.

Did the light only work inside?

Holding my breath, I stepped through.

The badge’s radiance finally banished the shadows. Outside, its light had been blocked completely, as if by an invisible barrier.

This room was larger than the last. Rectangular tables filled the space, cluttered with transparent glass bottles and bizarre contraptions. Vessels held liquids in every color of the rainbow.

Like… a scientist’s lab?

What was this place for?

I approached a workbench. Unfamiliar instruments and materials covered its surface. After scanning the room, I found nothing useful.

Alchemy, perhaps? The thought popped into my head.

Abandoning the bench, I turned to the walls. If I’d found the first and second doors… might a third exist?

Turns out I was right.

In the same spot opposite the entrance, another hexagon gleamed.

Curiosity truly was addictive. Not seeing this through would leave me restless.

*Please don’t let there be too many doors.*

Pressing the hexagon led me to a third room. Three bookshelves stood here, packed with mysterious black-bound tomes. Metal plaques labeled them:

—*Mental Magic: 182 Volumes*

—*Wind Magic: 337 Volumes*

—*Earth Magic: 265 Volumes*

So these covered the remaining three magic types, beyond fire, ice, and curses.

Had the old lady collected all these? With so many books, surely healing magic existed here too… or was it deliberately missing?

After skimming the shelves, I headed straight to the back wall. My eyes locked onto the familiar hexagon—the key to yet another door.

*How many rooms are there?*

I pressed it. Violet runes flared, revealing a new doorway.

This room stood empty—no shelves, no workbenches. Only a flat, oval stone floated mid-air, white and luminous.

Yes, *floated*. Lighter than air, or held aloft by unseen force, it hovered silently at the room’s center.

It glowed faintly—not as brilliantly as my rose badge, but its soft light was unmistakable.

*What is this? Magic ore? A rare material? Could it be the Philosopher’s Stone? But isn’t that supposed to be red?*

I reached out. The moment my fingers touched it, a jolt shot through me.

*What kind of stone is this? So cold… and… no physical form?!*

*Wait—no physical form?!*

The white "stone" slithered into my forehead.

*What’s happening?! My forehead’s freezing!*

Panicked, I shoved my hair aside and groped my skin. Nothing but smooth flesh met my touch.

*Where did it go?!*

Nameless terror seized me. Then—searing pain ripped through my skull. My vision blurred; thoughts shattered.

I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

But as quickly as it came, the agony receded like a tide. Two seconds? Three? One?

It vanished the instant my mind went blank, as if it had never existed.

I exhaled shakily, wiping cold sweat from my brow. I never wanted to relive that horror.

The pain was brief, but the fear had burrowed deep.

*Where did that white stone go? Did it vanish inside me like the Demonic Sword?*

Suddenly, a flood of utterly foreign knowledge surged into my mind—complex, profound, nearly incomprehensible. No, not memories. *Knowledge.*

*Magic knowledge?*

Forced into my head by that stone?

I reeled, then steadied myself.

Magic. Power. Exactly what I’d craved—to protect myself, to stop living in fear, to escape constant brushes with death.

I sorted through the mental torrent, deciphering its meaning.

It was like a beginner’s magic primer: the essence, principles, categories, control, and application of magic. Even as an otherworlder, I could grasp it with effort.

Understanding it was one thing. Actually *using* it? That remained to be seen.

The "Magic Primer" claimed any mentally sound person could learn magic—but talent dictated speed and limits.

The dull might die as mere Magic Apprentices. The gifted could become Formal Mages by their teens, mastering multiple spells.

Yet genius wasn’t unbeatable. With relentless effort and a powerful mentor, ordinary learners could rival prodigies—*if* the prodigies lacked advanced resources or grew complacent.

*What tier was this place’s owner, that old lady? Wait—*

The white stone had vanished into my head. Would she think I’d stolen it?

I snapped out of my magical reverie, glancing around nervously.

*Guilty conscience…* That intangible stone was gone without a trace.

*What now?* I steeled myself. *Find Eunice first. She’s all I’ve got—even if she killed me once.*

Ahead, another dark hexagon waited on the wall.

*Seriously, how many doors are there?*

*Is Eunice even here? Did I pick the wrong place?*

But I’d come too far to turn back. Maybe she waited beyond this door.

I pressed the hexagon. Deep purple veins bloomed across the wall, parting into a passage.

Only darkness lay beyond. An invisible barrier blocked my badge’s light. The unknown loomed.

I touched my forehead and sighed.

*Please let this be where I find Eunice.*

Stepping through—

Rain greeted me. Pattering drops. *Outside?!*

Blood. Even through the downpour, the metallic stench clung to the damp air. A trace of fear coiled in my gut, urging me to flee.

But my feet stayed rooted.

The sky hung leaden, moonless. Sparse trees dotted the landscape, ringed by low wooden fences. Rain soaked me to the bone. Before me, a scene froze my blood. Even a gentle breeze would’ve made me shiver.

Bodies lay scattered like discarded sacks. Their faces twisted in final agony, eyes bulging with terror, frozen in death. Blood mingled with rainwater, pooling in muddy hollows. Thin streaks of crimson swirled in the murk, tangled with dirt, shattered by raindrops before slowly dissolving.

Twenty corpses. Limbs torn apart, owners unidentifiable.

*What… happened here?*

Their clothes—*weren’t these the mercenaries who fled earlier?!*

But were they ordinary sellswords? Or Archibald’s men? Members of the Chaos Cross Chapter?

All dead. *Where was this? Where had I ended up?*

A frog croaked in the distance. *A swamp? A mage’s territory?*

I turned stiffly, like a broken puppet. In the pre-dawn gloom, three wooden cabins stood side by side. And this… was their *backyard*.

*Impossible!*

Cold sweat drenched me. *Where had I just been?!*

I’d passed through four hidden rooms—each at least five meters wide. These cabins couldn’t possibly hold that space.

*A dream?* No. The magic knowledge in my head felt real. The icy rain felt real.

I bit my lower lip gently, forcing calm.

*Hah. Just corpses. Dead people. Joke’s on them—I’ve died once already. What’s to fear?*

Shoving down my trembling, I circled the bodies. Confirmed: these were the same mercenaries from daytime.

*Why were they here? Who killed them?*

Given the location, one suspect came to mind.

A hunched figure stood at the fence’s entrance.

Had she been there all along? Or just appeared? Leaning on a gnarled wooden cane, one hand tucked behind her back, her face deeply lined, eyes clouded—this was the old mage Eunice had described.

"Don’t be afraid, child."

She shuffled forward, unsteady yet never falling. Raindrops slid around her body, repelled by an unseen force. She stopped before the corpses.

"These were rude bandits," she rasped, coughing twice. "They barged in with weapons, demanding my home and my exile. In my anger, I flicked out a few wind blades to teach them a lesson. Didn’t expect them to crumble under a mere third-tier spell." She waved a dismissive hand. "I meant to burn these eyesores last night, but your arrival delayed me. Burning flesh smells rather unpleasant, you see."

I swallowed hard, speechless.

*Flicked out a few wind blades… Burning flesh smells unpleasant…*

The absurdity was too overwhelming to even process.