Turn on Namuwiki (2)
Suuuuck!! Kuuuuh!!
I barely had time to freak out over the sudden spiritist job offer.
I took a massive breath, facing the spirit enveloping my body.
"So this is what the wiki inside the spirit corridor tastes like..."
The light cluster that had been swirling around me until moments ago scattered in a panic, like it was terrified.
Yeah, definitely a wiki.
I'd wondered if I was imagining it, but its weakness was spot-on: strong on offense, pathetic on defense—just like a half-baked knowledge spirit.
But that wasn't the point.
"What do you mean? Become a spiritist?"
To reiterate, spiritists and mages are polar opposites.
Spiritists aren't a subcategory of mages; they're an entirely separate class.
Yet my master acted like it was no big deal.
"Don't they have mages living alongside spirits in the southern Tauren Archipelago? What's stopping you?"
"Those guys are druids!"
"I went there myself, and their constitutions weren't anything special. Contracts depend most on affinity with spirits. That way, you can wield spirit arts while still casting your own magic."
"Huh?"
"Druids handle both because of their lifestyle in harmony with nature—nothing more. The difference between elves and druids is just long-lived versus short-lived races."
Hold up. Dual core?
Now that piqued my interest.
Master wasn't wrong, actually.
Tauren Archipelago.
If the empire's west has the elves' great forest, below it stretches a pristine, vast coastline.
It's the empire's top resort spot, but also the continent's highest concentration of spiritists.
The spiritists—druids—there maintain their own culture and way of life.
They borrow spirits' power to cast the exact same spells as imperial mages.
Since spirits, not their own mana, drive the casting, their prowess is determined by the spirit's strength, not innate talent.
High spirits are supposedly stronger than grand mages.
Even during the previous emperor's era of conquest, Tauren stayed a "neighboring resort" rather than fully annexed.
They had their own five high spiritists, matching our eight grand mages.
"Eugene."
I looked at my master.
Had she broken our promise?
No way.
My bond with Arkisiya wasn't just master-disciple.
See? Those eyes gazing at me right now.
That's why she's the only one who truly gets me in this world.
Men lay down their lives for those who see their worth.
For me, that's Grand Mage Arkisiya Piel Athena.
"If I contract a spirit, what happens to all the progress I've made so far?"
"Same as always. That's why I'm choosing this unconventional inheritance method."
"Ah... because of my innate attributes...?"
"Close enough. Your body couldn't handle even a single strand of my circuits anyway."
I have no talent for magic.
Just rare spatial affinity—no real mage potential. Best case, academy second-year level.
Magic relies heavily on internal mana density.
No matter how skilled the inheritor, if they can't match the master's level, it's all for naught.
"But contracting a spirit changes that."
In other words, an external battery.
Spiritists aren't mainstream in the empire, so details were fuzzy, but if Master was right, it was perfect for my mana shortage.
"Don't worry, I'm still inheriting everything. The Wiki contract is just prep work."
"I wasn't worried! I always trust you, Master!"
"Then, Eugene, shall we start the spirit contract? Ready?"
I swatted at the Wiki still floating around me.
"What the hell—let's do it."
I nodded.
I sat cross-legged before the Sephirot.
Closed my eyes, focusing on my circuits.
Mysteries attract mysteries—my pitiful mana reserves thrashed wildly.
Master's soft hand on my shoulder calmed it instantly.
"Hold this state. Breathe slow and deep. Good."
The key to spirit contracts: no stray thoughts.
Spirits are phenomena, existences unto themselves—nature's souls, some say.
Humans have souls too: great transcendent wills beyond emotion and intellect.
Blending two souls demands purity—no impurities allowed.
Deep in meditation, ambient sounds faded.
A vast cavern, just me.
"..."
I cracked my eyes open.
The golden tree gone, replaced by flawless white expanse.
Standing, looking around, a familiar voice guided me.
"This way."
Heading toward it, a hazy figure bobbed in the air.
"Wiki."
"I never imagined contracting with you, Eugene. Should I be happy or not...?"
I smirked at Wiki.
"What're you on about, you shut-in spirit who can't even kill time?"
"Decision made: not happy. You tried shoving me in your mouth earlier. True to the demonic traditions from the academy."
"Blab whatever. So, what's next?"
My bond with Wiki rivaled Master's—we were tight.
First friend and ally here, my rock during Master's absences.
If I had to become a spiritist, it'd be this opaque blob or bust.
"Form the 'covenant' with me."
"Covenant?"
"I am the spirit of knowledge. Born from the faith of those who worship and record all the world's wisdom, as you named me."
"I desire all your knowledge. The underbelly of the world you see. The laws of the worlds you create, the pre-sapient memories slumbering in your depths. Concepts absent from this world, knowledge like a book never written."
"I yearn to see the true world beyond libraries. To delve deeper into human emotions, to nourish myself on them. Everything beyond ink and letters."
"Mages hoard their knowledge and worlds. But you, Eugene Paltrow, opened forbidden realms to me, let me shape their creation."
"Thus, I demand you share all you experience, realize, and seize from now on."
Wiki's body shimmered gold.
The lights wove into form: a perfect black cube, like obsidian carved precise.
A shape I knew too well.
A Gaming Cube.
"By the covenant, swear to uphold the contract."
I cupped the cube carefully in both hands.
A jolt like electricity surged through me briefly.
"I swear."
Blinding radiance from the cube flooded my vision.
Then, countless places flashed.
Central Magic Library. My childhood estate. Adjacent forest. Imperial capital Romanium. Philemon Academy and great forest. Northern wilds and Purgatory Valley.
Not just this world.
Lancaster Manor. Sanctuary. Lakeside village. Sky Island. Three-Way Gorge. Eternal Tundra. Red Moon Fishing Village. Neon-lit quarantine zone. Ocean train, sunken city. Legion camp on vast plains.
—And my old home, Seoul, South Korea.
Scenes whirled like a montage, my mind reeling—
"I'll be waiting."
A voice rang clearer than any I'd heard.
"Until you pierce the essence of ascension."
Opening my eyes again—
"Eugene! Are you okay!?"
"...Ah."
I lay under the golden tree in nothing but my underwear.
"Aigoo, my head. What the hell happened?"
"Contract successful. Look at your chest."
Fumbling, I felt something hard under my skin.
Glancing down: a square obsidian gem protruded over my left pec.
"That's a Spirit Stone. Your implanted spirit corridor, tailored to you. You're now a 3-circle mage and spiritist."
Master hugged me tight, beaming with pride.
"Congratulations, Yujin."