Chapter 10
Chapter 10
The Kingdom of Hispania was a maritime power occupying the Iribia Peninsula to the west of the Empire.
As a nation raised on land surrounded by sea on all sides, even the Empire could not easily challenge its naval strength.
Juanna was the only princess of that Hispania.
Hair like it held the sun, and eyes like the blue sea of Iribia.
And talent far beyond her age. There was no reason for the royal family, inside or out, not to cherish her.
Her answer to those expectations was clear.
First place in entrance at Porca Academy.
The center of the entrance ceremony naturally shifted toward Juanna.
She drew even more attention than Ophelienne, who was the Crown Prince’s fiancée. It was enough to call her the true protagonist.
As soon as the ceremony ended, people swarmed toward her as if they had been waiting.
The rustling of luxurious formal wear, the mingled scent of perfume and sea breeze, and one greeting after another poured in.
“Congratulations on taking first place, Princess.”
Juanna gave a slight nod.
Her smile was shallow. Her gaze did not linger.
“His Majesty must be very pleased. Ah, I am Robert von Hettlegen, the eldest son of the Hettlegen family.”
He bowed deeply.
Juanna lowered her gaze out of courtesy, gave him a brief look, and replied shortly.
“I suppose so.”
“As expected of Valentia! I, Karl, knew Your Highness would take first place.”
“You’ve grown even more beautiful since the last time I saw you, Princess.”
“Princess…!”
“Princess Juanna….”
The more the praise continued, the more distant Juanna’s eyes became.
Not one of those who approached her was from a lowly family.
They were children of houses known across the Empire and other nations, people backed by power and bloodline.
Yet their words were all the same.
Refined speech, calculated smiles, and identical looks of expectation.
‘Annoying.’
Juanna muttered inwardly.
Adjusting the glove in her hand, she repeated only formal responses.
She was not young enough to believe their attention was directed at her, rather than the name and status she carried.
Instead, her gaze searched beyond the crowd.
Between people, the front of the stage, even the students beginning to leave.
‘Where did that guy go? He was sitting in the front.’
Matthios was nowhere to be seen.
The familiar presence she had felt throughout the ceremony had vanished at some point.
‘Did he leave early?’
For a moment, her brow creased slightly.
Juanna stepped back and scanned the surroundings again. Still nothing.
Her lips pouted slightly. Even at a moment like this, he disappeared without offering a single word of congratulations.
She glanced toward Ophelienne, wondering if he might be with his sister.
Ophelienne was conversing with imperial nobles. Matthios was not by her side either.
Glance after glance.
She too seemed to be searching for Matthios, her gray eyes moving subtly even during conversation.
‘Where did he really go.’
Irritation rose to her throat.
Juanna lifted her shoulders once, as if calming her breath, and muttered quietly.
“…Next time I see him, I won’t let it slide.”
“Would you like to have dinner— huh?”
“What.”
“Ah, n-nothing.”
The noble who had been inviting Juanna to dinner swallowed dryly and stepped back.
Skills and items were assigned ranks.
Common, Rare, Elite, Legendary.
For example, one of my sister’s traits, “Moretti Bloodline.”
That belonged to the highest rank, Legendary.
The same went for Juanna’s “Eternal Ember.”
Legendary rank was something only one or two people in an era were born with.
By probability, it was close to a miracle, and its power spoke for itself.
A force that could shake the world, or talent that could alter the course of history.
And separate from all those ranking systems, there was something else.
Hidden.
It was not a rank.
It was an exception that refused classification itself.
Something that could never be obtained through a fixed route, and only came into one’s hands through repeated runs, choices, failures, and coincidence overlapping.
‘Being moderately strong isn’t nearly enough.’
Considering my position, there was no way I wouldn’t get entangled in future events.
I had to get stronger as soon as possible.
I headed toward Porca Academy’s landmark, “Compendium of Wisdom.”
The reason it had such a grand name was simple.
This was the first library in human history.
I walked alone through the Compendium.
Since I came immediately after the ceremony, there was no one around. I was probably the only one here.
Shelves stretched endlessly in neat rows, and books carrying centuries of time stood silently in place. The towering stacks looked as if they were bowing their heads, looking down at me.
The smell of books filled the air.
Ink, paper, and time.
Just breathing it in made my mind feel clearer.
Even without reading anything, I felt slightly smarter.
‘It should be around here somewhere….’
Among countless classification markers, I searched for the architecture section.
Because what I was looking for was stored under architecture.
‘Found it.’
The book was placed far above my height.
I reached out, but couldn’t touch it.
I even tried jumping lightly, but the result was the same.
I looked around, then dragged over a ladder. The scraping of wood against the floor broke the library’s silence.
Climbing up, I carefully pulled the book out.
Finally, I had it in my hands.
An old and shabby cover. The edges were worn, the pages tattered. It was thin, a book that wouldn’t stand out among countless volumes.
On the cover, in crude ancient script, it simply read “Herna Architecture History.”
‘Hoo….’
This was it.
Exactly what I was looking for.
After getting approval from the librarian, I brought the book back to the dormitory.
I looked around my room.
“It’s big.”
The words came out naturally.
This was a single dorm room.
There were two ways to enter Porca Academy.
One was through the entrance exam, the other through recommendation.
I hadn’t taken the exam.
It was thanks to the recommendation letter written by my adoptive father, Servan.
For reference, my sister received a recommendation too, but still took the exam.
And she took first place.
Anyway, recommended students and the top 30% of exam entrants were given single rooms.
The justification was to provide an environment that encouraged focus and learning.
I went to the window and closed the curtains.
With the outside light completely blocked, the room fell silent.
I sat at the desk and lit the lantern.
A small glow illuminated the desk.
I opened the book.
–If one descends along the ridge of the Almans Mountains, there is a region called Herna….
At a glance, it was exactly what the title suggested, a record of the architectural history of a place called Herna.
Herna was already a lost name. It was now called something else, but so much time had passed that even its exact location was unknown.
Flip—
I turned the pages quickly.
The scent of old paper rose.
Midway through the book—
–…a red-haired young man assisted with this….
Red hair.
A phrase that wasn’t special at all in such a long text.
But it was what I was looking for.
I bit my thumb with my teeth.
Crunch.
A drop of blood formed.
I carefully let it fall onto the words “red-haired.”
Tap.
The moment the blood touched the text, the book trembled.
Flap—
The pages flipped violently as if a gust of wind had swept through. The letters lifted from the pages, twisted in the air, then rearranged into an entirely different structure.
Thud.
The book closed.
The worn cover was the same, but the title had changed into ancient script.
–Epic of Roshka
I took a breath and opened the first page.
Completely different text appeared.
–“To the one who reads this book, I am Roshka of Egasi. Once called a hero.”
The text was written in an ancient language now considered dead.
Fortunately, I had been educated in it.
I read slowly, piece by piece.
This was an epic written by Roshka himself.
His entire life was recorded within it.
‘The forgotten hero.’
A thousand years ago, in an era where barbarism and war were natural, where the strong devoured the weak.
Roshka slew countless demons and was revered as a hero.
‘But in the end, he could not overcome the demons.’
Countless demons died by his hand.
When even the great demon lord fell, the demons changed their strategy.
Since they couldn’t kill him, they would let time kill him instead.
Roshka was strong, but still mortal.
Time passed, he died, and the demons buried everything about him in oblivion.
His name, his face, his techniques, his vision. Nothing was passed down.
But Roshka knew.
So before he died, he left behind a book containing everything.
‘This is that book.’
Information like this could only be obtained after multiple playthroughs.
Otherwise, it could never be found.
Only I knew it.
Tybern wouldn’t know either, so it wouldn’t affect the story.
Because it was a hidden.
–“You would not know me. I was born in Egasi. My father was a hunter, and my mother the daughter of a woodcutter.”
The letters trembled faintly.
As if resisting being forgotten.
–“I had a loving family, friends, and a lover.
Because of them, I was happy. I took up the sword. I took it up for the world they would live in.
I cut down evil, upheld justice, and protected the weak….”
Toward the latter half, the handwriting became violent.
His emotions were laid bare in the script.
–“But I lost everything. A lord, jealous of me, attempted to poison me, but my younger sibling died in my place. My parents fell ill from the shock and died soon after.
My beloved was violated by that lord and died.
What is this?
I took up the sword for the world. I punished evil and did good.
But is this the price?
The world returned my kindness with a blade.
I hate it. Why did I take up the sword?
If anyone knows, please answer me.”
After that came revenge.
Cold, relentless slaughter unfolded.
–“I have completed my revenge. But all that remains is regret and sorrow. I have no reason to live. I have become a madman, a killer. No different from those I once fought. I am evil. No one praises me anymore.”
–“…With the help of a friend, I was able to leave behind this epic. I do not wish to be forgotten. I want proof that I once lived.”
–“To the one reading this.
Please, use my techniques properly.
From Roshka of Egasi, also called the Red-Haired Roshka.”
I turned the page with a complicated expression.
Beyond the final chapter, everything of Roshka was there.
Roshka of Egasi.
The forgotten hero’s vision.
–“I will describe the vision I poured my life into. I have great confidence in my mana cultivation method. I dare say it will not fall behind any great family’s secret manual.
A friend once said my mana shines like the dark of night. Do not misunderstand. Darkness is not inherently evil. It is merely a color.”
‘…Hoo. I actually got this.’
Roshka’s vision was one of the top skills in the game.
‘A top-tier mana cultivation method.’
I focused and began reading.
–“Ordinary practitioners accumulate mana in the body and condense it in the heart. Mine is similar in condensing within the heart, but the process and result will be entirely different. It will be built not only in the body, but also in the soul.”
I sat cross-legged on the floor.
I followed the instructions written in the epic.
I inhaled and recalled the content.
–“The important point is to empty both body and soul, creating the purest space. Close all senses, and draw your consciousness down to where only the heartbeat and breath exist….”
Honestly, even reading it felt insanely difficult.
It barely felt like words.
‘…Let’s just try.’
I didn’t give up.
Whether it worked or not, I had to attempt it.
I closed my eyes.
Shut off my hearing.
Felt the beating of my heart and the flow of my breath.
Thump— thump—
‘…Did it work?’
Instinctively, I knew.
I pulled my consciousness down to the point Roshka described.
–“Below that, all emotion, memory, and intent will disappear. That is the primordial void.
If you successfully reach it, you will feel a cold sensation as if submerged in water, and your breath will briefly stop.”
My body turned cold.
My breath stopped.
–“Then you have succeeded. In the void, you can do anything. However, you must destroy what you have built so far. If you are prepared, destroy it.”
To build a new foundation, I had to destroy the old.
The two circles coiled in my heart.
Roshka demanded I break them.
‘I was prepared for this.’
The effort and time spent reaching 2-circle felt wasteful, but compared to Roshka’s vision, it was nothing.
In the void, I could see my circles clearly.
Two rings rotating.
I shattered them.
Crack!
“Ghh…!”
The circles condensed in my heart broke, and the shock struck my body.
Muscles and bones trembled. Veins and tendons shook violently. It hurt so much I collapsed forward.
At least it was only 2-circle.
If it had been higher, it wouldn’t have ended with just pain.
“Haa… haa….”
I quickly steadied myself.
Bleeding and sweating, I continued the mana cultivation.
–“Now that you’ve broken it, this is the important part. Do not regret what was yours. Discard it. Discard everything. Compared to what you will build now, it is nothing but trash.”
I threw away everything that had formed the 2-circle.
It came out as blood and breath.
–“Now your body and soul are pure. Build new mana there. Then the purest mana will be formed.”
I followed Roshka’s words without doubt.
How much time passed?
[You have acquired a hidden skill.]
What I had been waiting for finally arrived.