Translator: CinderTL
The once-glorious civilization of the Aetheron Continent had long since turned to dust over the millennia.
The passage of time and the fragmentation of knowledge meant that among Roland's group, only the bard, obsessed with ancient legends and epics, had any inkling of this forgotten history.
According to Galvis, though the Aetheron Continent was vast, its political structure in that distant era differed drastically from the fragmented, multi-state system Roland knew.
Of course, Galvis spoke with no absolute certainty, as his accounts were based on fragmented ballads and vague records.
Yet one thing remained clear: even if hidden currents of conflict flowed among the human tribes, they all nominally belonged to a single, vast and powerful empire.
The Dawnlight Empire.
Not only humans, but other major intelligent races on the Aetheron Continent—elves, dwarves, and even rarer groups—seemed to have followed a similar structure, coalescing into unified powers.
In that era, the most prominent conflicts and clashes on the Aetheron Continent typically occurred between different races, who waged war over resources, faith, or survival philosophies rather than engaging in endless internal strife within their own kind.
Due to the vast disparities in strength, characteristics, and population among the various races, their territories on the Aetheron Continent naturally formed distinct and vastly different regions.
Weaker races often inhabited remote, barren, or harsh environments.
Conversely, powerful races occupied the continent's most fertile core regions, brimming with mana.
As humans, who ranked consistently in the upper-middle tier of power among all the continent's races, the Dawnlight Empire controlled a vast territory known as "Morningwind's Breath."
Whenever Morningwind's Breath was mentioned, Galvis's tone would unconsciously adopt the bard's characteristic longing and embellishment, as if reciting a lost golden age.
"Legend says that Morningwind's Breath is a blessed land!" he would begin, his eyes gleaming with light.
"There, rolling hills shimmered like the finest jade, and crystal-clear rivers meandered through the land, their beds said to be paved with self-luminous gravel."
"Ancient epics describe a sky perpetually bathed in a peculiar, pale gold, not from sunlight, but from the radiant glow of mild and active mana particles filling the air."
"Majestic peaks, suspended by Anti-Gravity Runes, floated like islands in the sky, dotting the vast plains. Upon them stood elegant spires and hanging gardens."
"Magic wasn't a privilege of the few, but deeply woven into the fabric of daily life, from powering swift vehicles to nourishing fertile soil—"
"Lush forests and grand cities coexisted in harmony, with giant, softly bioluminescent fungi growing shoulder-to-shoulder with ancient oaks along the streets."
"It is said that in Morningwind's Breath, even the humblest farmer might know a trick or two to tend his fields—a radiant hall where wisdom, art, and arcane knowledge converge, a testament to the pinnacle of human strength and civilization!"
The mental tapestry slowly folded shut, and Roland's unfocused pupils snapped back to the reality before him.
The pervasive, deathly gray mist, along with the looming shadows of colossal, dilapidated structures half-hidden within it, laid bare the brutal contrast between epic legend and harsh reality in a bone-chilling manner.
"—This is Morningwind's Breath?" Galvis's voice, soft and tinged with an indescribable melancholy, sounded beside him.
Roland sighed softly, gazing out the porthole at the desolate landscape swallowed by the silent, gray fog. A similar sense of wistfulness rose in his heart.
"If Mr. Bronson's map of mana flow aligns with Elder Duerden's map, then—this should be the Morningwind's Breath from your ballads," he replied, his voice muffled by the pervasive mist.
Due to the limited range of the Magic Net Disturbance Detector, the shell ship couldn't perform long-distance, continuous spatial jumps. After traveling a certain distance, it had to exit the unstable temporary passage and return to the Aetheron Continent to recalibrate its position and determine the next coordinate node.
This time, however, they had docked precisely within the region known in ancient legends as Morningwind's Breath.
The Morningwind's Breath territory was vast, and their current position was still a considerable distance from the core zone of the former Dawnlight Empire and its Glorious Capital.
However, for Roland, this location offered an unexpected advantage.
They were very close to a place he had long planned to explore.
With this thought, Roland lowered his head and carefully re-examined the ancient map Duerden had given him.
He then called out to Bronson, who was working nearby on the deck with Durga, busy with the "Magic Net Disturbance Detector" that was continuously flashing with a faint blue light.
"Mr. Bronson, how long will it take to determine the next stable coordinates?"
Bronson looked up from the pile of complex runes and data and estimated.
"At least half a day. The mana environment here is even more chaotic than in Rust Town, with strong interference."
Hearing this, Roland immediately made a decision. Pointing to a specially marked symbol on the map, he said to Durga and Bronson,
"In that case, Durga, Mr. Bronson, there's a place nearby that I want to investigate."
Pointing in a general direction within the gray mist, he suggested, "Why don't we sail a bit further in that direction? I can descend alone to investigate, and you can use the time to confirm our next coordinates. That way, we can cover both bases. What do you think?"
Durga and Bronson approached, leaning over the map to carefully compare the location Roland had indicated with the surrounding terrain markings.
The area didn't appear particularly distant and seemed to be in a relatively open region, suitable for the shell ship's temporary docking and observation.
Exchanging a glance, Durga gruffly agreed, "Alright, let's do it!"
With the plan settled, the shell ship slowly ascended once more.
However, lacking a clear spatial coordinate anchor, it couldn't enter the astral rift. Instead, it lumbered through the sky like a cumbersome airborne fortress, struggling to maintain slow, arduous flight.
Fortunately, the destination was indeed close.
After about half a day of anxious flight, through the seemingly eternal and even denser gray mist at high altitude, the silhouette of a vast and ruined architectural complex gradually emerged in Roland's vision—like the skeletal remains of a sleeping giant beast.
It was an enormous complex of ruins, built into the mountainside.
Though eroded beyond recognition by the ravages of time and unknown calamities, its former grandeur and magnificence still lingered faintly.
The towering, collapsed spires pointed like broken fingers toward the gray, hazy sky.
The vast plazas and training grounds were riddled with cracks, from which weeds and twisted vines stubbornly pushed forth.
Scattered throughout were the remains of strangely constructed buildings, their facades covered in climbing structures and concealed firing slits.
Even a few particularly sturdy workshops, preserving the remnants of massive furnaces and forging platforms, stood silent testament to the area's former craftsmanship and glory.
"The Imperial Academy—"
Roland took a deep breath, gazing at the vast ruins slumbering in the gray mist.
After meticulously studying Duerden's map, he had already marked this place as a crucial target to explore upon reaching Aetheron.
Regardless of how much truth lay in Galvis's exaggerated bardic descriptions, if this site had once held prominence during the glorious Crystal Era, then the extraordinary profession system mastered by humans at that time could never have been as limited as the single path of the knight found in the River Domain Nations or the Golden Valley Kingdom.
Considering that the methods for accessing extraordinary professions varied among different races and might even be restricted, for Roland, who yearned to expand his strength and discover new ways to access these classes, this place held immense promise.
The Imperial Academy, a monument to the pinnacle of human wisdom and strength, was undoubtedly the safest and most promising place to find answers.
With this thought, Roland didn't hesitate. He led the way down from the shell ship and ordered most of the grey dwarf warriors to thoroughly sweep the landing site, confirming its safety before establishing proper security and patrol duties.
After a brief discussion with Durga and Bronson, he left Avril to watch over them and assist with coordinate calibration. Taking Galvis, who was passionate about history and legends, he stepped into this academic sanctuary that had been silent for a millennium.
They moved through crumbling colonnades and collapsed courtyard walls, their feet crunching on shattered flagstones and withered, bizarre vines.
Their goal was clear: to head straight for the most magnificent building in the complex, the core structure that, even in its ruin, still exuded a sense of its original grandeur.
The Imperial Academy Library.
A massive, long-rotted ironwood door lay askew, revealing the deep darkness within.
As they entered, a sphere of light instantly dispelled the shadows at the entrance, illuminating the scene before them.
Yet this place was less a library and more a graveyard of knowledge.
The sight was truly shocking.
Countless towering bookshelves lay toppled and shattered, as if ravaged by a giant beast, forming small mountains of wood, metal, and paper scraps.
Scrolls and books that had once held the wisdom of ages were torn apart and scattered everywhere.
A thick layer of dust covered everything. Many pages had long since become brittle and moldy, some even stuck to the grime on the floor, transforming into an unrecognizable paste.
The air was thick with the smell of decaying paper and some indescribable, musty odor.
"Oh, no! By the gods! Look at what they've done! These—these are priceless treasures!"
Galvis cried out in anguish, carefully stepping over the debris as he tried to retrieve a still-intact page from the pile of fragments.
The blurred ancient script and intricate illustrations on the page made his breath catch, but he dared not handle it too roughly for fear of damaging it further.
Unlike Galvis's agitation and grief, Roland felt little surprise at the scene.
If even the more deeply hidden and heavily guarded Observation Post No. 7 had not been spared, how could the world-renowned Imperial Academy Library have remained unscathed through the ages and potential plunder?
Ignoring the bard's incessant muttering and lamentations, Roland quietly spread his senses like a spiderweb, alert to any disturbance lurking within the vast ruins.
At the same time, he began meticulously searching for anything of value.
Initially, his search yielded little—mostly destroyed or thoroughly decayed texts.
However, as he rounded a barrier formed by a collapsed bookshelf and scanned a corner of the library, his movements abruptly halted.
The scene there stood in stark, eerie contrast to the surrounding devastation.
A tall bookshelf, constructed from some dark metal and unknown wood, stood completely intact.
Though covered in dust, it showed no signs of damage or collapse, as if the millennia of time and all the turmoil in the world had failed to erode it in the slightest.
Neatly arranged on the shelf were rows of books. Their appearance was far more ancient and substantial than the fragments scattered outside, and the text on their spines even seemed to emit a faint, shimmering light.
Roland frowned slightly, a sense of caution and confusion rising in his heart.
He approached slowly and cautiously drew out a thick book with an unusual texture and a warm, smooth feel.
Before he could even open it, the mere sight of the ancient Common Tongue characters carved into the cover—as if imbued with some rhythmic pulse—made his breath catch in his throat.
Firmament Breathing Technique
The words struck his mind like a hammer blow.
The core knowledge of the Knight transcendent path, which he had once struggled so desperately to access, now lay openly and unguarded on this neglected shelf in the ruins, covered in a thin layer of dust.
Suppressing the turmoil in his heart, he quickly flipped through several pages.
The text didn't merely describe basic training methods. Instead, it detailed how to resonate one's life essence with external energies on a deeper level, how to refine purer and more potent Battle Qi, and how to combine Battle Qi with will to unleash terrifying power far beyond that of ordinary knights.
The comprehensiveness of the content, the completeness of the system, and the height of the power it described were all far beyond any breathing techniques he had encountered at the Knight Academies of the River Domain Nations.
Roland took a deep breath, suppressing his racing thoughts, and his gaze swept across the other books on the shelf.
The sight sent another shock through his heart, nearly overwhelming him.
The names embossed on the spines of the books were none other than the extraordinary professions he had only heard of in the oldest legends:
Elemental Envoy Meditation Principles
Shadowdancer Advanced Training Manual
Prayers and Blessings of the War Priest
Rune Lord: Basic Runes and Constructology
Dragon Bloodline Sorcerer: Bloodline Awakening and Control
Rules of the Temple Knight and Sacred Contracts
Psionic Weaver Introductory Guide
- - -
Not only did it contain basic class progression paths, but also a vast collection of advanced texts such as Battle Qi Qualitative Change and Domain Fundamentals, Analysis of High-Level Spell Model Construction, Shadow Plane Traversal Techniques, and Legion-Level Formations and Will Resonance—all clearly pertaining to the application of higher-tier powers.
This was no mere bookshelf.
It was a complete treasure vault of knowledge, gathering the mainstream transcendent paths of that glorious era.
It was a legacy of power that countless people had dreamed of, a legacy that could stir up bloody conflict in the outside world.
"But..."
Roland frowned slowly.
Why were they preserved so completely here?
Why hadn't the plunderers of that time taken or destroyed them?
A surge of immense joy and even deeper doubt washed over Roland.
(End of the Chapter)
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