It had been over a month since the Bone Forest incident. Strangely, not a single rumor about it had surfaced—only news of Moonlight Forest’s lockdown reached the public. Yan Yi breathed a sigh of relief.

He now stood in Section A of Central Academy’s library. How had he gained access? Well…

A month ago, Luris had chosen not to transfer west. She remained at Central Magic Academy. Juben seethed silently—he couldn’t afford to offend either of the two powerful figures backing her. Reluctantly, he’d struck a deal: Luris must visit him during holidays and cheer for him at the Five Academies Grand Competition. Only then did he let her go.

“Sigh… One of us turned traitor,” Yan Yi muttered as the trio headed toward campus. He hadn’t returned to Ink Village; he’d already discussed it with Mo Ping. Glancing at Luris’s wistful expression, he added, “Guess it’s just us now.”

Luris awkwardly turned her head. She knew what he meant—but needed to correct his mistake.

*Ahem.* “Well… there *was* one traitor from the start. But now? There’s *another*.”

Yan Yi blinked, confused. Then realization struck. He whipped his head toward Interle, eyes wide with shock.

“Holy crap! Who’d be suicidal enough to date a *demon*?!”

Interle’s smile froze—just for a second—before darkening at the edges.

Luris coughed urgently, desperate to avoid collateral damage. “Interle’s situation’s worse. She’s got a fiancé. Arranged marriage.”

Yan Yi’s gaze darted between them. He pointed at himself.

“So… *I’m* the traitor?”

Both girls nodded. Yan Yi clutched his head, spiraling into melodrama.

“Back at the academy, people called me a two-timer… Turns out I don’t even have *one* ticket on this boat…”

Twin veins throbbed on their foreheads. Their smiles turned icy.

“Yan Yi,” Luris said sweetly, “is it *really* wise to say that… *to our faces*?”

But Yan Yi, freshly traumatized by his singledom, kept digging his grave.

“I mean—one’s a tsundere, the other’s a demon. Terrible personalities. But their looks? Decent enough…”

The chill radiating from the two girls made Old Man Bai’s hands tremble on the carriage reins. *This level of death-wishing is unprecedented!* Even his formidable magic couldn’t calm his racing heart. He hastily cast protective barriers behind him and stared fixedly at the sky.

…

Yan Yi sprinted the last stretch to campus, fuming. Those violent girls had kicked him out of the carriage—refusing to let him back in, even pelting him with stray spells. *I need a gentle girlfriend. Fast. Nothing like those two monsters.*

Using the Teleportation Array, they reached the academy by noon. After helping Luris and Interle settle their luggage, Yan Yi retreated to his Graygem Residence to rest.

Classes resumed the next day. Professor Liette gave a perfunctory welcome before dismissing everyone to choose electives. As she left, she shot Yan Yi a relieved glance—*Finally free of this troublemaker*—but he merely shrugged it off as another one of her mood swings.

Ignoring course registration, Yan Yi headed straight for the library, student ID and task log in hand. He’d passed its imposing gates before but never entered. Now, he strode past the gawking students without a glance and pushed through the doors.

Inside, the library was vast yet unadorned—simple, serene, and utterly empty except for a bespectacled young man at the front desk. Yan Yi recognized him: the same attendant from the Headmaster’s office. The youth seemed absorbed in his book, oblivious to Yan Yi’s arrival. *Yeah, right,* Yan Yi thought, but didn’t press it.

He approached the desk. Only then did the attendant look up, adjusting his glasses.

“Can I help you?”

“I’d like to know about the Task Tower and library access.”

“Very well.” The attendant closed his book. “Four Task Towers exist: ED, CB, AS, and the rear section of the S Realm. You can’t enter—or accept tasks—without the matching clearance.” He paused. “As for the library… few care about these books. It mainly serves as a hub for Realm of Magic assignments.”

Yan Yi nodded. He only cared about the books.

“Are library sections also restricted by clearance?”

“Technically yes,” the attendant admitted, “but unlike other facilities, the barriers here are invisible. No rating displays. If you can pass through the light curtain… you’re in.”

Relief washed over Yan Yi. *Perfect.*

“Thanks. I’m Yan Yi. And you are?”

“Ward. Librarian.”

After thanking him, Yan Yi walked straight to the first light curtain. It barely rippled as he passed through.

Ward watched him vanish, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Still impossible to read… even face-to-face.”

---

Section One welcomed all clearance levels. Yan Yi’s heart leapt at the sea of bookshelves—a flood of childhood memories hitting him. He sighed, grabbed dozens of volumes, and buried himself in reading.

Two days later, Ward noticed something bizarre: Yan Yi hadn’t left. *At all.*

Curious, Ward entered Section One. The sight stunned him. Books. *Everywhere.* Hundreds surrounded Yan Yi, who sat atop a mountain of texts, flipping pages at lightning speed. He’d pause occasionally, but mostly—*flip, flip, flip*.

Ward set aside Yan Yi’s starvation and grabbed a finished book.

“What’s the third principle of alchemical resonance?” he asked abruptly.

Yan Yi didn’t look up from his current page. “Harmonic frequency alignment between catalyst and substrate. Page 47, paragraph two.”

Ward tested three more books. Yan Yi answered flawlessly each time.

A chill ran down Ward’s spine. This boy was… unnerving. Just then, Yan Yi snapped his last book shut.

“Done with this batch.” He stretched, finally spotting Ward. “Whoa! Mr. Ward, don’t sneak up like a ghost! You scared me!”

Ward’s lips twitched. He placed a hand on the table. Wooden vines—thin as threads—sprouted instantly, each coiling around a book and whisking it back to its shelf. The table smoothed itself seamlessly.

“Whoa! Mr. Ward, what magic is that?!” Yan Yi’s eyes sparkled.

“Nothing special. My Unique Magic: Matter Manipulation. I reshape non-living objects.” Ward kept his tone casual, secretly testing Yan Yi’s reaction. *Most students are awed by this.*

Yan Yi’s mind raced: *The ultimate handyman! He can make ANYTHING!*

“Can you… tailor a suit for me?”

Ward nearly face-planted. *All that awe… for THIS?!* He glared daggers.

Before he could protest, Yan Yi thrust a sketch into his hands. Then—impossibly fast—another appeared: a test tube and rubber stopper. Ward’s instincts screamed *danger*.

“Actually,” Yan Yi cut in again, “forget the suit for now. I’ll gather materials. But make the test tube *extra* durable!”

And just like that—he vanished.

Silence.

Ward stared at the empty space, then at the sketches in his trembling hands. His scholarly composure shattered.

“HOLY CRAP! THIS GUY’S TOXIC! HEADMASTER—I QUIT!!”