The moment Unwan lowered his hand, Dorgon was slammed into the ground.
It looked as if Dorgon had been fused to the earth itself, pinned there, unable to rise. And in truth, that was exactly the case.
Dorgon's entire body was pressed flat against the ground. The pressure was so overwhelming that it felt as though an enormous stone had been dropped on top of him, crushing his skull. Within seconds, a thin trickle of blood began to run from his nose.
He couldn't endure it. The area soon filled with Dorgon's screams. He was receiving a punishment befitting him, or so it seemed.
Yet, for some reason, Unwan felt no satisfaction.
They were enemies. Nearly enemies. And yet, within Unwan's mind, emotions poured down like a storm. Disgust and pity. Righteousness and hypocrisy. The feeling of doing good, and the feeling of committing evil. The thought "He deserves this" clashed violently with "He should be forgiven."
Unwan stood trapped between two opposing paths. If he accepted that Dorgon deserved it, forgiveness rose in protest. If he leaned toward mercy, the urge to end it all pushed back just as fiercely.
But in the end, Unwan did not dwell on it for long.
Dorgon could no longer withstand the pressure and lost consciousness.
'I'm not like you. I don't kill people for entertrain… or for experiments.'
For Unwan, the danger was now almost gone. Almost. To obtain the grimoire, he had already cast two spells. As a result, his spiritual energy, meager as they were in a newly awakened Owner, were nearly depleted. Fatigue weighed heavily on his body.
Slowly, he lowered himself back down.
Unwan believed that Great Water could heal him. But he also knew it would take time.
He had only denied it earlier as a matter of compromise, an excuse to himself.
After all, Great Water had healed far worse wounds before. One in seven had even been dangerously close to his heart. The real concern now was his abdomen. Great Water activated from the stomach, and in this state, that made the process risky.
'Still… if I'm not mistaken, the healing has begun.'
Unwan placed his hand over the wound.
A sharp, searing pain surged through him.
He would have willingly let Fred beat him three more times if it meant escaping this agony. Ironically, many of his bruises had already begun to fade, but this was unavoidable. Losing more blood was not an option.
So he lay there, lay there, and lay there still. Fortunately, Dorgon did not rise again.
At one point, Unwan even wondered if he had died.
But no, Dorgon was still breathing. Perhaps Unwan had stopped the spell just in time.
Regardless, Unwan had time.
The wound was healing, though it would take much longer to fully close.
He finally released the grimoire from his hand and commanded it to hover. The moment it left his grasp, it floated in the air once more. Violet light began to radiate from it again, dimmed this time, lower, subdued.
Unwan gazed at it with quiet satisfaction. A faint smile touched his lips, and a few tears of joy shimmered in his eyes.
'At last… at last, I have one too. It's mysterious, its power doesn't align with the others—but… it's great. To send someone flying with a single hand movement… wow.'
'But you still don't know how to use it properly. Someone will have to teach you.'
Hearing that voice, Unwan felt a sense of relief. His companion had returned. Once more, he did not feel entirely alone.
'And who do you think would teach me, genius? Someone as unwanted as me?'
'You have a grimoire now. At the very least, the academies will accept you.'
Unwan fell silent. He had never once considered such a possibility. How could he have? He had never possessed a grimoire before. But now… he did.
The academies were royal institutions that provided foundational and intermediate education for newly awakened Owners. Occasionally, they even offered advanced instruction—primarily for Readers. From what Unwan knew, the training lasted anywhere from a month and a half to two months. All expenses were covered by the crown: tuition, meals, lodging.
Keli and the others had told him plenty about it after returning.
But there was one problem.
'I don't even know where the academies are located.'
He expected silence. Instead, the reply came instantly.
'There's the Greater Spell. Go there and ask where the academies are.'
What an elegant and annoyingly logical answer. For a moment, Unwan wondered if the voice was truly just a fragment of his mind… or something more.
'Perhaps you could also consider my current condition?'
'Of course. If you keep lying there, you'll spend the entire night like that. Unless Dorgon wakes up and slit your throat with that sharp thing.
'Are you trying to motivate me… or mock me?'
'Maybe both.'
'There's no point arguing with you. You're just a construct of my thoughts. Any idea can appear within you. So… please. Shut up.'
'…'
***
Several hours later, Unwan slowly rose to his feet. Most of the bruises had faded, leaving only the deeper ones faintly visible. The wound had not fully healed, but it was stable enough for movement.
The downside was his clothes. They now bore not only seven cuts, but an additional hole, along with dried bloodstains.
Despite everything, Dorgon was still unconscious.
He lay face-down, unmoving, save for the subtle rise and fall of his body that proved he was alive.
As Unwan exited the blind alley, his gaze fell on the wall Dorgon had been hurled into. It was slightly caved in—clear evidence that this had indeed been the point of impact.
'Such a light motion… and a blow like that. A pitiful sight.'
'Perhaps.'
Unwan stepped onto the main road. The sun was nearing its descent, yet the streets remained bright. Mechanical Guardians patrolled the roads in steady intervals.
Thankfully, the bleeding from Unwan's throat had stopped. He hadn't coughed up blood for some time now.
Otherwise, he would have appeared highly suspicious, especially given the condition of his clothes.
To make matters worse, a violet grimoire floated openly before him, one no one had ever truly seen before. Until now, people had only witnessed its light. Even so, it was enough to draw attention.
Unwan scanned his surroundings, searching once more for the three towers. He soon spotted them in the distance. The journey was long, but it's closet than the statue of Rendi von Andel's journey.
Slowly, he set off.