The transition to Split Mind was not a graceful evolution of power; it was a violent mental storm that nearly broke my sanity. The first time I attempted to activate the skill on the quiet landing of the fifth floor, I collapsed. It felt as if a physical wedge was being driven through the center of my skull, forcing my consciousness to tear into two distinct streams. For hours, I lay in the dark, clutching my head as the world doubled in my vision.
But I was Akira—the boy who had read a thousand worlds before being thrown into this one. I knew that in every story, the greatest power comes with the greatest price. I forced the headache back with sheer resolve, clearing the "fog" of my thoughts until the two streams ran parallel.
Suddenly, the world changed. I had a "second head"—an invisible, intangible presence that looked through a second set of eyes. While my physical eyes looked forward, my second sight could track the shadows behind me. With this mental breakthrough, my Mage Grimoire pulsed with newfound depth. I had reached Level 2 in Mage Grammar. I was no longer restricted to simple sparks; I could now weave complex elemental structures. Fire Tornadoes, Wind Veils, and Water Wheels were now part of my vocabulary, alongside the cold, suffocating pull of Dark Magic.
The Sixth Floor: The Invisible Ghost
The Sixth Floor was a jarring contrast to the dark spider dens above. It was a lush, vibrant wilderness, filled with green foliage and hanging vines that looked almost peaceful. But beneath the beauty lay a void. I activated my Minotaur Eyesight, expecting to see the thermal blooms of hidden predators, but the room remained cold. There were no heat signatures.
A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. I was being watched by something that didn't have a heartbeat.
"Appraisal," I whispered, focusing on a slight distortion in the air near a large, moss-covered stone.
A window flickered into existence before my eyes, revealing the truth the dungeon tried to hide:
[NAME: GREEN CHAMELEON]
[LEVEL: 20]
[SKILLS: INVISIBILITY, SEARCH WAVE, COLD-BLOODED (NO HEAT SIGNATURE)]
The beast was a ghost. It used "Search Waves"—low-frequency pulses that acted like radar—to ping the room. It didn't need to see me; it already knew exactly where I stood.
Using my Split Mind, I didn't succumb to the panic. While one "mind" kept the Mage Grimoire open and primed for a fire spell, the other commanded my Spider and Slime books. I moved with a silent, deadly purpose, weaving a trap that the invisible lizard would never see coming. I stretched strands of Spider Silk across the corridor, coating them in a lethal mixture of Corrosive Slime and Spider Poison.
The Chameleon charged, confident in its invisibility. It thought it was the hunter, but it was merely a fly entering a web. It slammed into the poisoned net, and the corrosive toxin immediately began to hiss against its hidden skin. The invisibility flickered and died, revealing a massive, scaly predator thrashing in agony. I didn't give it a chance to recover. I pointed a single finger and unleashed a precision Point Shot directly into its brain.
[NEW GRIMOIRE UNLOCKED: CHAMELEON GENERATION]
[SKILLS ACQUIRED: INVISIBILITY, SEARCH WAVE, DOUBLE EYES (360-DEGREE VISION)]
With Double Eyes, my second sight became permanent. I could see the front, the sides, and the back of my head simultaneously. I was no longer a human with a blind spot; I was a living fortress of perception.
The Seventh and Eighth Floors: The Blitz
The Seventh and Eighth Floors became a blur of high-octane slaughter. I was no longer the boy who had struggled against a single Minotaur. I was a hurricane of shifting Grimoires.
On the Seventh Floor, I encountered the Armagogons—monstrous, armored beasts that looked like a cross between a boulder and a dragon. they relied on Barrier Magic to deflect attacks and high-speed Rolling Attacks to crush their enemies.
With Split Mind, I handled them with terrifying efficiency. As they rolled toward me, I used Water Wheels to negate their friction and Fire Tornadoes to superheat their armor until it cracked. I didn't just kill them; I harvested them. I absorbed their skills, transferring the Barrier Magic directly into my Mage Tome, allowing me to manifest translucent shields of mana at will.
On the Eighth Floor, the environment shifted to a desolate, wind-swept plain. This was the territory of the Spirit Wolves (Level 23). They moved in packs, using Wolf Howl to create crushing wind pressure that could pin a man to the ground. Their Wolf Strike allowed them to launch blades of pure wind from their claws.
I didn't even give them the satisfaction of a fight. I activated Invisibility and used my Double Eyes to step behind the Alpha. While my physical body swung the Minotaur's Axe, my second mind was casting Dark Magic circles beneath the pack. The wind they generated was swallowed by my shadows. Within thirty minutes, the entire pack lay still in the snow. I was everywhere and nowhere at once.
The Evolution of the Library
By the time I stood at the massive, obsidian gates of the Ninth Floor, the notification window in my vision was a constant stream of gold. I had reached Level 35. My "Bookworm" title—the very thing that had started this journey—continued to reward my obsession with the Grimoires. As a reward for reaching the mid-tier of the dungeon, two new, powerful books appeared in my orbit, bound in silver and light.
The Teleportation Grimoire: A game-changer. I could now instantly return to any location where I had physically stepped before. The stairs were no longer my only escape. I could blink between levels in the blink of an eye.
The Assistant Grimoire: This was the soul of my library. The Assistant Grimoire acted as a central processor, organizing my chaotic mess of skills and books. It allowed me to "hot-key" my Grimoires, switching between Slime, Minotaur, and Mage skills instantly without the mental fatigue of manual switching.
I took a moment to test the Taming Grimoire on a lingering, wounded Armagogon. I reached out, trying to force its soul to submit. But the beast snarled, its pride refusing to break. The submission failed. I tried again, but the requirement was absolute—if a species refuses twice, they are lost to the taming arts forever.
I closed the Taming book with a sigh. "I don't need pets yet," I muttered, looking at my scarred hands. "I need to be a god."
The Ninth Floor: The Ogre Warlords
The gates of the Ninth Floor groaned open, revealing a massive, blood-stained arena. The air here was hot and smelled of burnt meat and iron. Waiting for me in the center of the hall were the Ogres.
These weren't the mindless goblins of the first floor. These were massive, ten-foot-tall warriors with skin like cured leather, carrying clubs carved from the thigh bones of dragons. They didn't have the supernatural speed of the rabbits or the invisibility of the chameleons. They had something much more dangerous: raw, unadulterated crushing power.
I stood at the entrance, a stark contrast to the monsters before me. My shredded tactical gear was held together by mana, and my eyes—now glowing with a faint, multi-colored light—scanned the room with 360-degree precision. My Assistant Grimoire hovered at my shoulder, its pages flipping at a speed the human eye couldn't track, keeping all my powers in a state of perfect readiness.
I opened the Mage, Minotaur, and Chameleon books simultaneously.
"Split Mind: Full Output," I growled, my voice echoing in the vast chamber.
The Ogres roared, a sound that would have paralyzed the Akira of three weeks ago. Now, it was just noise. I vanished from sight, my Double Eyes tracking the movements of every Ogre in the room. I could see the mana flowing in their muscles; I could see the stress points in their bone clubs.
The first Ogre swung his club, a blow that shattered the stone floor where I had stood a microsecond before. I was already behind him.
One mind focused on the Minotaur's Axe, infusing it with the weight of a mountain. The other mind began chanting a Dark Magic incantation, weaving a web of shadows around the Ogre's ankles.
"Let's see how much your 'power' matters when you can't even touch the floor," I whispered.
The Ninth Floor was no longer a challenge. it was a laboratory.