After the bath, I felt renewed, but sothing was still bothering —my disheveled hair and the beard beginning to sprout. "I need to deal with this," I muttered to myself as I approached the mirror once again.
I leaned in, staring at my reflection. My hair was a ss, and my patchy mustache was a joke. I sighed. I started looking around the bathroom for anything that could help shave or cut my hair, but there was absolutely nothing. "Of course... Looks like I’ll have to craft these tools in the future," I thought, frustrated.
Then I rembered the trash bin where I’d thrown my old clothes. I left the bathroom and headed there. After rummaging for a mont, I found what I was looking for: a small blade that had once been part of a worn-out dagger. I held it carefully, analyzing its surface. "This will do."
I returned to the bathroom mirror, blade in hand. Bringing it close to my face, I began to work. With slow and precise movents, I shaved off every strand of beard daring to grow. The cold, rough tal was far from comfortable, but it got the job done. From ti to ti, I stopped to rinse my face and clean the blade before continuing.
After finishing with my face, I moved on to my hair. I lifted a blond lock and, without hesitation, cut it close to the root. I repeated the process until everything was short and even. As I observed myself in the mirror, I realized the style resembled a military cut—practical and no-nonsense. "Much better," I thought, satisfied with the result.
I washed my face and hair again, cleaning off the remnants of my improvised haircut. After one last glance in the mirror, I left the bathroom and returned to the bedroom.
I approached the wardrobe, opening it carefully. Inside were the tower uniforms, impeccably folded. I took out a complete set: white trousers, a hooded tunic, a pair of white gloves, and matching boots. Each piece was adorned with small golden sun designs on the cloak and boots—symbols of the order that now defined my life.
I began to dress. First, I put on the white trousers, adjusting them at the waist so they fit comfortably. The fabric was soft and light but firm enough to allow freedom of movent. Next, I grabbed the tunic and slipped it over my head, leaving the hood to rest on my back for now.
Then I put on the boots. The white leather glead under the room’s dim light, and they fit perfectly, as if tailored just for . Finally, I donned the gloves, which were also white with small golden details on the cuffs.
When I looked at myself in the wardrobe mirror, a completely different figure stared back. Clean, with short hair and a pristine uniform, I truly looked like I belonged there. "Now I’m ready," I murmured, feeling more confident.
I walked over and sat at the desk, placing two books on the table. I lifted my head, contemplating the view that stretched out before the window in front of . The blue sky seed to disappear at the altitude where the tower stood, and yet below sprawled the mountain forest where the tower had been built.
With a sigh, I turned my attention to the books on the table. The first had a red cover with black letters that trembled and sotis dissolved, as if they were alive or unstable. The title, when I managed to focus on it, read "Magical Alphabet." The second, with a blue cover and similarly moving black letters, was titled "Magical Numbers."
I observed the letters on the covers for a mont. It was as if they defied my perception, shifting or trembling as I tried to make sense of them. "My mind isn’t ready to grasp all this yet," I thought. "I’m just a novice acolyte, and consequently, a magical illiterate. Maybe that’s it... or maybe the spell on these books is unstable."
I decided to start with the red book. "Magical Alphabet" seed like a more logical starting point. Language, after all, was the foundation of any knowledge, magical or mundane. I opened the book and imdiately issued a ntal command to the virtual laboratory within my mind.
"Create a folder in the database!"
["Beep!"]
["Folder created successfully!"]
"Rena this folder to ’Magical Alphabet’!"
["Na successfully changed!"]
With everything prepared, I continued. "Now begin extracting the information from the book in my hands."
As soon as I gave the command, my eyes glowed with a golden light as a beam of energy erged, scanning the pages of the book line by line, capturing every detail.
While the laboratory processed the information, I noticed the density of the content. Each letter seed to have a unique identity and profound aning. They weren’t rely symbols—they were entities in their own right, containing fragnts of raw magical power. The laboratory began generating a summary as it analyzed the book.
Each letter of the magical alphabet holds an intrinsic aning and is associated with a specific form of magical energy. When used individually, these letters channel small amounts of power, but when combined in synchronization, they can produce effects in reality.
For acolytes with little spiritual energy, attempting to pronounce magical words using these letters drains ntal energy, depleting vitality as fuel to activate spells. This is why pronunciation practice must be approached with extre caution or only after reaching acolyte level two or three.
An ordinary person who dares to touch a magical book without being "magically literate" will face severe consequences. The words will overwhelm their mind, leaving them unable to control their own body for a period of ti. This happens because of the supernatural force of the letters, which interact directly with the mind.
Only those who have undergone the first initiation ritual and officially beco level-zero acolytes can overco this psychic effect, gaining access to the magical knowledge hidden within the pages.
When the laboratory finally completed the extraction, I heard the notification sound in my mind:
["Information successfully extracted!"]
I smiled and carefully closed the book. "Each letter can shape reality... now, it all makes sense," I thought.
As I looked at the closed book in my hands, an unpleasant mory surfaced. "So that’s why..." I whispered, feeling a shiver run down my spine. I vividly rembered the campsite near the Lucario Tower, when I had tried to decipher those strange letters on the white tent of the wizard Doger, the one who resembled a duck.
At the ti, I had been consud by curiosity—a curiosity that nearly cost dearly. The mont I tried to analyze the words inscribed on that tent, an overwhelming wave overtook . I collapsed to the ground, unable to control my own body, as if my mind had been torn from . In that mont, if it hadn’t been for Styg waking up, perhaps...
I took a deep breath, accepting the truth. "I was reckless, but at least now I know why." With this reflection, I issued a clear ntal command.
"Activate my virtual laboratory!"
["Beep!"]
["Virtual laboratory is initializing..."]
Suddenly, the environnt around changed. While my physical body remained seated in the chair in the room, my consciousness was transported to a vast, endless digital world. It was like floating in an infinite void, a space where the horizon seed nonexistent. Pulsing blue light lines moved like circuits, forming complex patterns that danced in the darkness.
Floating in the center of this vast void, I crossed my arms and looked around, reflecting. "Previously, I had no reason to deeply explore the laboratory," I thought. "The basic functions were more than enough for almost everything. For example, when I customized that warrior breathing technique, everything was simple. There was no magic involved, so the lab just retrieved mories and organized the data I already had."
I gazed at the digital void before , feeling the enormity of the possibilities it offered. "But now... now I’m dealing with sothing entirely different."
I took a deep breath and issued another command. "Create a hologram of myself and have it practice the magical alphabet."
Almost instantly, the empty space began to glow. Lines of light intertwined, forming a perfect silhouette—a precise reflection of myself. The hologram had the sa serious expression, the sa clothes, and even the sa determined look I carried at that mont.
As soon as the hologram was fully ford, it began moving its lips, carefully reciting the magical letters. Each sound produced seed to echo in the digital void, while the energy vibrated around it. The hologram attempted to combine the letters into syllables, as if trying to find the perfect formula to shape reality.
I watched closely, my arms still crossed. "This should conserve my ntal energy," I thought. "If I force my mind directly to learn the alphabet, I might end up drained before finishing a single phrase."
The hologram continued its training, reciting and adjusting the combinations of letters. Sotis the syllables failed, and the sound produced seed unstable, but the constant practice showed progress.
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