He stepped out of the library doors slowly, as if his feet were unwilling to leave just yet. He paused for a moment at the threshold, lifting his gaze toward the sky…
It was dark.
Quiet.
Night had already fallen.
He took a deep breath, then said in a low voice, carrying a hint of genuine surprise:
"Oh… it seems night came faster than I expected… or perhaps I'm the one who lost track of time inside those books?"
He took a step forward into the long corridor, where the torches hanging on the walls cast broken shadows that shifted with every faint breeze. With each step, the echo of his shoes rang clearly, as if it were the only sound in this silent place.
Then he began to speak…
But this time, it wasn't just a passing remark.
It was a dialogue… deep.
Between him… and himself.
"So…"
He paused slightly, his eyes half-closed, as if rearranging everything he had read inside his mind.
"This world… isn't built on random power as I first imagined… it relies on a precise system… harsh… and progressive. A system that begins from almost nothing… from a seed… from something unseen… and then you refine yourself so that everything can be built upon it."
He ran his hand along the wall beside him, slowly.
"The path of existential vessels…"
He smiled faintly.
"An exaggerated name… but… annoyingly accurate."
He kept walking.
Step after step…
"Hmm… refining the soul… strengthening the body… expanding the vessel… then controlling what fills it…"
He exhaled slowly.
"Everything here… depends on accumulation. There are no shortcuts, no free miracles, as far as I can tell. Every level… must be built upon the one before it… otherwise… everything collapses. That's what I've seen so far!"
"Haaah… huh… so…"
He stopped suddenly.
Then said in a deeper tone:
"That means…"
He raised his head slightly.
"That the beginning… is everything."
Silence.
A moment.
Then—
"And I…"
He smiled, but this time, it carried something different.
"I don't even have a beginning."
He lowered his gaze.
"A dormant seed…"
He laughed lightly.
But his laughter wasn't merely mocking… it carried a sense of challenge.
"Hahaha… the weakest possible point in this system… the lowest level… the least value… the smallest existence."
He stopped.
Then lifted his eyes, staring forward steadily.
"But…"
His voice grew calmer… more focused.
"This… is perfect."
Silence.
"Because the one who starts from the bottom…"
A step.
"Doesn't fear falling."
Another step.
"And the one who doesn't fear falling…"
He paused, then smiled faintly, coldly.
"Can rise… in any way he chooses."
He passed by a slightly open window. A cold breeze slipped through, gently moving strands of his hair.
"People here… see levels as degrees of power…"
"But they're wrong."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"It's not just power…"
He opened them again.
"It's… a way of thinking."
"Each level… forces a certain understanding upon you… certain limits… certain rules…"
Then he whispered:
"And whoever understands the rules… can break them."
He stopped.
Then—
He laughed.
A short laugh.
"Hahaha… I really… like this world."
He resumed walking.
But his steps became slower.
Calmer.
"As for the sect system… it's even more interesting."
He raised his gaze toward the sky again, barely visible between the roofs.
"An empire… medium sects… weak ones… powerful ones… alliances… divisions… betrayals… a history filled with endless wars…"
He stopped.
"The Heavenly Phoenix Sect… and the Red Bear Sect…"
He smiled.
"They were one… then they split for a reason not even mentioned in the books. What really happened, exactly!?"
"This alone… is enough to be interesting."
He stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"A split always… creates cracks."
"And cracks…"
A faint smile.
"Are where someone different from everyone else begins."
He exhaled slowly.
"But… there's no need to rush."
His voice became calmer.
"I'm still at the beginning… I have no power… no complete knowledge… not even a stable place within this sect."
He stopped.
Then—
"But…"
He raised his head.
His eyes gleamed slightly.
"I have something more important."
Silence.
Then he said slowly:
"Time… the ability to learn… and the desire to understand."
He paused.
Then smiled.
"And that… is more than enough."
He exhaled…
"And the first thing I need to do… is give myself a place within this sect."
His steps carried him deeper into the corridor, where the lights were dimmer and the shadows thicker.
"Starting from zero… is annoying, yes…"
He exhaled.
"But it's also… a rare opportunity."
"An opportunity to build yourself… however you want… without restrictions… without history… without a past forcing a shape upon you."
He stopped.
Then said in a low but clear voice:
"In my previous world…"
Silence.
A brief moment.
Then he continued:
"I didn't have that choice… but I did what those who had all the choices never did before…"
He smiled.
A smile carrying quiet narcissism.
"But now… I will decide who I become… and in a stronger way."
Faiser continued walking slowly through the corridor. His steps weren't hesitant… but they weren't fast either, as if every movement was carefully calculated—not out of fear or caution, but simply because… he no longer saw value in haste.
He breathed calmly.
Then said to himself, in a low voice only he could hear:
"The problem in this world… isn't that it's complicated, nor that it's dangerous… but that everyone living in it… has accepted its limits without even trying to question whether those limits are real… or just something placed before them to believe in."
He lifted his gaze slightly, his eyes scanning the walls, the engravings, everything around him… as if he wasn't seeing the place, but analyzing it.
"The books… people here talk about levels, progression, climbing step by step, as if the path is one and cannot be changed… as if the peak cannot be reached except by following those who came before…!!!"
He stopped.
Then smiled faintly, carrying a quiet sarcasm.
"But what they still don't understand… is that the path itself… isn't fixed."
He turned his head slightly.
"And that the rules they worship… are merely results… not absolute laws."
He took another step.
Slower this time.
"If everything depends on refining the vessel, on capacity, on balance… then that means the system itself can be read… understood… and perhaps… manipulated."
Silence.
A brief moment.
But his eyes grew deeper.
"Power here… isn't just energy… it's a system. And any system… can be broken."
He stopped again.
This time he didn't move immediately.
"But…"
He breathed slowly.
"Breaking it by force… is foolish."
He raised his head.
His eyes gleamed clearly.
"The smarter way… is to follow it, understand it, and become part of it…"
He paused.
Then—
"Until you reach the point where it can no longer contain you."
A smile.
Calm.
But filled with certainty.
"Only then…"
"You won't be the one following the system… the system will follow you."
He resumed walking.
This time with firmer steps.
Clearer.
"I don't need to be the strongest right now…"
"All I need…"
A brief internal pause.
Then he continued:
"Is to be the only one who truly understands what's happening."
He lowered his gaze slightly.
"Others train to become stronger…"
"But I…"
He raised his eyes.
Slowly.
"I will understand why they become stronger in the first place."
Silence.
Then—
He exhaled lightly.
"And once I understand that…"
He paused.
Then continued in a calm tone, but carrying weight:
"The difference between me and them… won't just be power."
"But… the level from which I look at them."
He smiled.
A small smile.
But this time—
It carried clear narcissism.
"And in the end… what matters isn't how high you rise… but how small others seem when you do."
He stopped at the end of the corridor.
The darkness ahead wasn't frightening.
Nor mysterious.
But—
Calm.
Like an opportunity.
He looked at it.
"This world…"
He breathed slowly.
Then said:
"Won't change me."
He paused.
Then continued:
"I… will change the way I understand it."
And in that moment…
Faiser wasn't thinking about fighting.
Nor enemies.
Nor even survival.
But—
Something far more dangerous.
"If everyone seeks to become strong within this system…"
He smiled slowly.
"Then what would happen…"
He paused.
Then—
"If someone appeared… who doesn't play by the rules at all?"
Silence.
But that question…
Wasn't just a thought.
It was—
The beginning of a catastrophe… no one had realized yet.