The Third Ancient Knowledge (1)

Two days later, the long-awaited word finally arrived: the bone whip was complete. Forged by none other than Tokan, the Fire Hammer—an artisan who stood at the absolute pinnacle of his craft—the weapon had been shaped from the Ten Thousand Year Golden Bone, the rarest material imaginable. Sanghyuk's anticipation could hardly have been higher.

"Whoa..."

The moment Sanghyuk inspected the weapon resting in his hands, an involuntary breath of admiration escaped his lips. A Unique-grade item—or rather, a double-plus (++) Unique—the Ten Thousand Year Golden Bone Whip possessed truly breathtaking performance.

In this world, a plus attached to an item's grade required extraordinary circumstances. In this case, Tokan had poured well over a hundred percent of his legendary mastery into the forging, earning a Masterpiece Crafting Bonus that added the first plus. Following that, being the first weapon of its kind ever forged granted the First Crafting Bonus, adding the second.

Each plus increased both the base and special attributes by an additional ten percent. Two pluses translated to a staggering twenty-percent boost overall. The numbers nestled neatly inside the parentheses on the item description were the direct result of those upgrades. On top of that, every added plus tacked on an extra bonus effect.

With stats like this, it's practically sitting at the Elite Unique tier.

An Elite prefix catapulted an item into an entirely different league, creating a gulf in performance so vast that it could hardly be considered the same rank. Elite gear was typically locked behind grueling raid bosses or obscure hidden quests, impossible to obtain through ordinary means.

"Well? How does it suit you?" Tokan asked, puffed up with pride as he watched Sanghyuk's reaction.

"It exceeds every expectation. Thank you so much for crafting such an incredible weapon."

"Bwahaha! I hammered away at that thing for two whole days without catching a single wink of shut-eye. Mark my words, it's the finest work I've turned out in years!"

A masterpiece hammered out by an artisan of Tokan's stature stood shoulder-to-shoulder with a divine-grade creation forged by an ordinary blacksmith. Even if a lesser smith managed to land two pluses on a miracle piece, the sheer disparity in baseline attributes kept Tokan's work firmly ahead.

"As for the batch meant for public sale, I've decided to cast them all from soft iron," Tokan continued, crossing his thick, hairy arms. "It can't hold a candle to the Ten Thousand Year Golden Bone, of course, but it’s pliable enough to function decently as a segmented whip. Soft iron doesn't come cheap, so the final price tag will be steep—though anyone buying an exotic piece like this ought to pay proper coin for it."

It matched Sanghyuk's memories precisely. In his previous life, every mass-produced bone whip on the market had been forged from soft iron.

"Thank you for looking out for me," Sanghyuk replied smoothly.

"Looking out for you? Bah! It serves me just as well—or rather, it serves both of us."

Sanghyuk bantered comfortably with the dwarf, biding his time and watching for an opening to steer the conversation where he needed it to go. Their Bond of Fate had already formed, so whatever Sanghyuk pitched had an exceptionally high chance of being received warmly. Still, caution was second nature to him. One had to tap a stone bridge before crossing, even if it looked sturdy, so he waited patiently for the ideal segue.

"...When you get right down to it, fire and earth are the bedrock of everything!" Tokan boomed, gesturing with an iron fist. "That's why our folk always keep the Fire Spirits and Earth Spirits close at hand."

There it was. The exact opening Sanghyuk had been waiting for.

Now!

"Fire and Earth Spirits..." Sanghyuk murmured, tilting his head with practiced curiosity. "If it isn't an imposition to ask, is there any way I might be able to commune with them as well?"

"What? Thinking of picking up the hammer and learning how to forge for real?"

"Oh, nothing quite that ambitious. I’ve simply held a deep fascination for elementals—those beings often spoken of as the living providence of nature."

"Is that so? Hmph..." Tokan rubbed his bristling beard, considering the request. "If it's elementals you want to understand, you'd best seek out Baise. Ah, but that eccentric hermit won't give the time of day to just any stray traveler. Here, let me scribble you a letter of introduction."

Jackpot.

Baise the Inquirer. Securing a direct introduction to that reclusive scholar had been another major reason Sanghyuk had poured so much effort into building rapport with Tokan. Naturally, Tokan wasn't the only NPC capable of writing a recommendation to Baise; within Falcon City alone, roughly half a dozen other notable figures held that privilege. But a recommendation was only as good as the hand that wrote it. A letter penned by Tokan—a Legend-grade figure—carried unmatched authority, far outstripping anything lower-tier NPCs could provide.

"Thank you, Master Tokan," Sanghyuk bowed deeply, accepting the parchment without hesitation.

With the letter in hand, he had no further business at the Golden Anvil for the time being. He would need to check in periodically to maintain their affinity and prevent their Bond of Fate from degrading, but managing that would be simple enough.

"You wish to understand what spirits truly are?"

Tokan's letter worked like a charm. Had Sanghyuk arrived waving an endorsement from a mediocre NPC, he would have had to grind through tedious goodwill chores just to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠earn an audience.

"I do," Sanghyuk replied, offering a respectful nod.

"And why do you seek this knowledge?" Baise asked, his sharp eyes narrowing behind small spectacles.

"I once heard that among the countless forces sustaining our world, none are more captivating than the spirits. I wish to comprehend those subtle entities that dwell within all matter, weaving the gears of creation."

Every word had been rehearsed down to the inflection. When dealing with specialized, scholarly NPCs like Baise, walking in with the right script was half the battle. That approach didn't work on everyone, of course; some NPCs despised flattery and demanded raw, off-the-cuff candor. But for a pedantic academic like Baise the Inquirer, a well-formulated, philosophical response hit the mark every time.

"Hmph. From the sound of it, you aren't merely some brute hoping to dabble in spirit arts just to swing your weight around."

Baise closed the heavy tome resting before him and stood up.

"Follow me. I will show you what the spirits are."

Walking over to a towering bookshelf, Baise pulled a specific leather-bound volume partway from its shelf. With a muted click, the entire bookcase slid aside, parting down the center to reveal a hidden chamber.

Baise's Secret Laboratory! A recommendation from Tokan really is something else.

Between Tokan's overwhelming clout and Sanghyuk's tailored dialogue, the scholar had bypassed the endless chain quests that usually guarded this room, granting immediate access to his inner sanctum. To the average player forced to crawl through dozens of grueling errand quests, such a shortcut would have seemed infuriatingly unfair. But that was how the world worked.

The quest completion pinged in his peripheral vision, but Sanghyuk brushed it aside. The real prize was right ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before him.

"Spirit arts have been the subject of my inquiry for many long years," Baise remarked, his voice softening with quiet solemnity as he stepped into the study. "Even now, what I do not know vastly outweighs what I do. Yet I believe I can at least impart the fundamentals to you."

Reaching into a mahogany cabinet, Baise retrieved a massive, leather-bound manual and extended it forward.

Sanghyuk stared down at the substantial grimoire resting in his grasp, a grin spreading across his face. Comprehensive Compendium of Spirit Arts—the medium required to unlock Ancient Knowledge: Spirit Arts.

Spirit Arts was a textbook Tier-0 Ancient Knowledge, commonly referred to as a Mastery Knowledge. Unlike standard disciplines that branched outward into first, second, and third-tier evolutions, Mastery Knowledge followed no linear progression tree. Instead, it was bound to a proficiency rating; as mastery deepened through practice and study, new mechanics and deeper mysteries unlocked organically. The most prominent examples of this archetype included Spirit Arts, Taming, and various esoteric summoning schools.

"To be frank, even I do not fully comprehend the true essence of spirits," Baise admitted, sighing softly. "I have dedicated a lifetime to their study, yet the deeper I delve, the more elusive they become. Take this book. It is my sincere hope that you might carry the torch forward and uncover the truth that eluded me."

A stirring speech, old man... but you'll be handing out that exact same copy to the next player who clears your flags.

In the grand scheme of things, the grimoire in Sanghyuk's hands was merely a transcribed duplicate. But he had no intention of pointing that out. Arguing wouldn't alter reality, and since he had future dealings planned with Baise, tanking their hard-won affinity would have been sheer foolishness. Sanghyuk tucked the tome securely into his inventory, offered the scholar a courteous farewell bow, and stepped out onto the sunlit streets of Falcon City.

His purpose in acquiring the compendium was straightforward: Spirit Arts would fill his third Soul Hole.

Historically, players who pursued Spirit Arts dubbed themselves Spirit Masters, overwhelmingly favoring Double Soul setups. The undisputed meta pairing for a Spirit Master was to anchor their second soul to a long-range artillery discipline, letting summoned spirits hold the frontline while the summoner unleashed ranged devastation from safety.

Sanghyuk had no intention of taking a ranged discipline. Nor did he harbor the slightest desire to pamper his spirits like beloved pets, the way conventional Spirit Masters did.

To most practitioners, a spirit was a cherished partner, a dependable comrade, and a fiercely loyal subordinate all rolled into one. Players went to absurd lengths to build rapport and emotional resonance with their elementals. Even Maeda of the Bitter Wind, revered across the previous timeline as the pinnacle of all Spirit Masters, had preached that anyone seeking greatness in the discipline had to master the art of deciphering a spirit's subtle desires first.

In essence, his philosophy dictated that even if a spirit was technically an NPC governed by a rudimentary artificial intelligence, a master should cater to its whims rather than treat it like a mindless tool.

Sanghyuk, however, was about to discard every single tenet of traditional spirit arts.

The build taking shape in his mind didn't just bend the rules—it shattered them entirely. It was unprecedented, disruptive, and unapologetically destructive.

To forge an entirely new combat standard, one had to begin by rejecting the common sense everyone took for granted. Venturing into the unknown was normally fraught with lethal uncertainty, which was precisely why so few ever dared to diverge from proven paths. But Sanghyuk held an unbeatable advantage: he already knew the destination. He knew the outcome with absolute certainty, which meant he had no reason to fear failure.

A trailblazer had already walked this brutal, uncharted path in his previous life. And Sanghyuk, having watched that pioneer's rise from the closest possible vantage point, understood precisely what had to be done.

To fully grasp the reality of that legacy, one had to look back on a buried secret from Sanghyuk's previous life—a truth unknown to the wider world.

Alongside Crash Choi Sangyeol, the pro player who had spearheaded the explosive, worldwide dominance of the Card Master meta was none other than Narel of Blaze.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

And Narel of Blaze had been Sanghyuk's finest masterpiece.