Chapter 10 – The Gate of Knowledge and the Spirit of Arcanis
The long, winding path toward the Arcana Library was lined with ethereal lamps, glowing with bluish-white mana fire. The air itself felt heavier here, charged with dense magic that made each breath thick and tingling.
At the towering entrance stood two mage-sentinels, each cloaked in silver and indigo robes. Their presence alone was daunting—Fifth Circle mages, no less.
As Chris approached, they straightened with respectful composure.
"Young Master Chris," one of them said, bowing slightly. "The Duke has already informed us of your visitation rights."
The other mage added, "May the threads of wisdom guide you. You may now enter."
They turned, placing their hands on the giant gate etched with ancient runes. With a deep, echoing hum, the runes lit up one by one until the massive steel-wood doors creaked open, revealing the hidden world within.
And what Chris saw stole his breath.
Before him stretched an endless expanse of bookshelves, each stacked to impossible heights. Ancient tomes, floating scrolls, crystal-bound grimoires, and rune-etched tablets hummed softly with restrained power. The ceiling—or what should have been one—was nowhere to be seen. The upper levels of the library disappeared into a shimmering mist of golden light and arcane dust, as if the space itself bent time and gravity.
Chris took a hesitant step forward.
It felt like walking into a forgotten realm—not just a place of books, but of dreams, madness, and the weight of a thousand years of magical legacy.
Suddenly, the ambient air shifted. A soft gust of wind stirred the pages around him, and from it emerged a glowing silhouette—an elegant spirit draped in flowing robes, its eyes glimmering like moonlit silver.
The spirit stopped a few paces away and inclined its translucent head.
"You are not to take another step."
Chris stood still.
"I am Arcanis, contracted spirit and eternal guardian of the Arcana Library," the entity announced. "First bound to the will of the Founder Duke, and since then, to every Duke of House Celestrius."
Chris immediately lowered his head in respect. "I've come with the permission of Duke Reinhardt."
Arcanis's tone remained neutral, yet unmistakably dangerous. "Then present the token. For even a son of the Duke who enters without a sanctioned permit shall be obliterated—no questions asked."
Chris reached into the folds of his cloak and retrieved the platinum-inscribed scroll, sealed with the Duke's personal arcane crest. As Arcanis's gaze fell upon it, the seal glowed and unraveled, releasing a faint hum that resonated with the very walls.
The spirit studied the seal, then gave a silent nod. "Permission acknowledged. Access granted."
Chris let out a quiet breath of relief.
Arcanis hovered closer now, his voice calm and ancient. "You have seven levels before you. Each tier grows more dangerous, more demanding. Many have entered… fewer have returned whole."
"I'm ready," Chris said.
"Are you?" Arcanis murmured, almost to himself. "Even damaged, your spirit burns brighter than most. Perhaps… just perhaps…"
Without finishing his thought, the spirit turned and began floating deeper into the grand labyrinth of knowledge.
Chris followed, his heart pounding—not from fear, but from the sheer weight of what lay ahead.
Behind him, the doors slowly closed with a thunderous thud, sealing him within the timeless vault of secrets.