Chapter Forty-Five: Shen Ce, Who Regrets Losing the Map

Chapter Forty-Five: Shen Ce's Regret at Losing the Map

The Royal Library stood in the same district as the Temple of Light, so it was hardly surprising to find such a concentration of light-element magic here. Rumor had it that priests often came and went in this place. Perhaps because the Elven Queen was expected today, Shen Ce didn’t see any other people borrowing books, though there was no shortage of patrolling guard NPCs. They were all clad in silver-black armor, their faces solemn and expressionless, which lent them a rather chilling aura.

Shen Ce followed closely behind Serros as they entered the grand hall of the library. The interior was vast and empty, with only a single elderly man—dressed in pure white priestly robes—striding forward to greet them. He carried a staff adorned at the end with silver wings, and his presence exuded authority.

Shen Ce’s eyelids twitched as he sensed the surrounding light-element magic converging upon the old man. He instinctively felt that this elder’s magical mastery surpassed even that of the old priest in Lingshui City.

The elderly priest seemed to sense Shen Ce’s gaze, casting him a fleeting, almost imperceptible glance. Shen Ce hastily lowered his head. He still had important tasks to accomplish here; drawing attention would only hinder him.

“Welcome, Your Majesty the Queen. May I ask what books you wish to see?” The old man smiled warmly as he bowed to the Elven Queen. Since Serros stood at her side, the gesture seemed to honor them both.

The old priest hadn’t expected Serros to be so bold, refusing to step back even a single pace. His expression faltered, turning rather sour. He tried to gauge the Queen’s intentions, mistakenly assuming Serros was one of the elves and thus kept his displeasure in check.

The Elven Queen, naturally, saw through the old man’s dissatisfaction. Such a petty heart! Her initial impression of him instantly plummeted. With a wave of her hand, she said, “No need for formalities. I’m just browsing. You may go.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” The old man, a prominent figure in the capital, could tell the Queen held little fondness for him. Not wanting to make a fool of himself, he simply seated himself at the counter.

Shen Ce followed the Queen’s entourage as they ascended the library. They moved quickly through the lower floors, only pausing on the fifth level, which was filled with books on history and culture. The Queen seemed especially interested, perusing the shelves row by row.

From time to time, Serros offered a brief comment or two. Though he spoke little, his insights were always unique and soon won over everyone nearby, who marveled at his breadth of knowledge.

Seizing the opportunity, Shen Ce quietly approached the leading noble official to request permission to step away, explaining that he’d long wanted to visit the Royal Library but never had the privilege. Now, with this rare chance, he wished to find some books to broaden his horizons.

The noble official, a reasonable man, understood well the allure of the Royal Library. Its collection included many one-of-a-kind volumes, priceless and unavailable elsewhere. He’d seen many commoners yearn for entry and could empathize with Shen Ce’s excitement. After some thought, he granted permission, only cautioning Shen Ce not to wander too far and to return soon.

From the past two days’ observations, the official realized that only Serros was truly responsible for communicating with the Elven Queen. Shen Ce’s presence was so negligible as to be almost superfluous, and the official still wondered how he’d been selected in the first place.

Delighted at how easily he’d been granted leave, Shen Ce hurried toward a remote, shadowy bookshelf. After glancing around to ensure he was unobserved, he quickly retrieved Serros’s cloak from his storage space.

Draping the cloak over his shoulders, Shen Ce silently recited the incantation for invisibility, just as Serros had instructed. Once finished, he appeared unchanged. His heart pounded in his chest—had the spell worked? To test it, he approached a servant standing at the edge of the room. The servant seemed not to see him at all, his gaze never straying in Shen Ce’s direction.

Overjoyed, Shen Ce carefully tried it again with an elf; once more, he went unnoticed. Holding his breath, he crept quietly away from the fifth floor.

He’d already noticed on their way up that there were no guard NPCs stationed inside the library itself. Following his previous route, Shen Ce quickly passed the sixth and seventh floors. But when he reached the eighth, something felt wrong—the way up to the ninth floor had vanished!

How could this be?!

Peering down from the eighth-floor corridor, he saw the plaza below swarming with guards, who from this height looked like clusters of tiny black dots. Wiping away nonexistent sweat from his brow, he looked up: only the bright daytime sky greeted him, nothing more.

Shen Ce’s pupils contracted sharply. He distinctly remembered seeing nine stories when he first looked up at the library from the plaza outside. Why, then, was there no trace of the ninth floor from here?

Could this be some sort of illusion?

Sensing something amiss, Shen Ce stood on the corridor and scanned the eighth floor’s interior. He vaguely felt there was a difference between the first seven floors and the eighth, but what was it?

Brows furrowed, Shen Ce entered the eighth floor, searching for clues. The shelves were neatly stacked with numerous volumes. Skimming the titles, he spotted some that piqued his interest, such as “On the Application of Light Magic Elements” by Todd Gibson—a name every priest would recognize, as all beginner priest handbooks featured lengthy introductions to this once-renowned archmage of the light element.

But now was no time for distractions. Shen Ce forced himself to focus on finding a way to access the ninth floor. Just then, he heard footsteps approaching. Startled, he nearly collided with a bookshelf, barely managing to steady himself without making a sound.

The footsteps grew louder, and a thin figure came into view—it was the white-robed elder from before! Shen Ce silently watched him, noticing that the old man’s demeanor was far from normal—he seemed every bit as anxious as Shen Ce himself.

Puzzled, Shen Ce suppressed his restlessness and began to tail the elder. Perhaps this old man would be his ticket to the ninth floor!

The elder, wrapped in white robes, glanced around and let out a quiet sigh. An inexplicable gleam flashed in his eyes, sending a chill down Shen Ce’s spine. Then, without disappointment, the old man swiftly formed a series of hand signs with both hands. With a sound of mechanisms turning, two rows of bookshelves slid back, revealing a hidden staircase.

Shen Ce committed the sequence of hand signs to memory. He had to follow now, and those gestures were likely the way out as well. He trailed the old man at a careful distance.

Reaching the ninth floor, Shen Ce was utterly astonished—had he not seen it with his own eyes, he would never have believed it. The white-robed elder, so holy in appearance earlier, now had bloodshot eyes and a visage twisted like a demon from the underworld.

Shen Ce had no idea what had transpired in those brief seconds, but he was certain the elder was practicing some forbidden magic. His mind raced, instantly recalling the polar opposite of a light priest—the shadow priest. He regretted never using the old priest’s spell to transform into a demon; if he had, perhaps he could confirm whether the elder was connected to the shadow order. Yet, he remembered that when the old priest demonstrated, his features had remained serene and upright, not exuding the sinister aura this elder now displayed.

Deciding not to look any longer at what he was never meant to see, Shen Ce reminded himself that now was not the time for greed or curiosity. His only priority was to uncover the way to the Demon Realm.

Quickly scanning the shelves, he found that the ninth floor more than lived up to its reputation. Even the book titles were fascinating—volumes on forbidden curses and clandestine pacts abounded. Most of the books, however, were tattered and incomplete, with missing pages being the norm.

As Shen Ce’s gaze swept a particular shelf, he discovered it was filled with materials about the Dark Territories. He couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Carefully searching, he was rewarded: among a pile of dust-laden tomes, he found a map.

Shen Ce’s eyes shone as he gingerly pulled the map free. He glanced at it briefly and, as he tried to slip it into his storage space, inadvertently stirred up a cloud of dust that caught in his throat and nose.

Unable to suppress it, he let out a small cough.

His face changed abruptly. The elder’s hearing would surely detect that something was amiss. Yet what happened next caught Shen Ce completely off guard: the white-robed elder appeared beside him faster than lightning!

With a rush of displaced air, the elder’s robes fluttered as his withered hand snatched the map from Shen Ce’s grasp. His sharp, piercing gaze swept the area, making Shen Ce’s heart quiver, but he dared not make a sound.

“How odd… there’s clearly no one here…” the old man muttered softly, glancing at the map before tucking it into his robes. The moment he did, the sinister aura vanished, replaced once again by the holy demeanor from before.

As the elder slipped the map into his robe, a small slip of paper fell from his garments…

Author's note: The old man isn’t actually important—it’s the slip of paper that matters.