"Phantom Rebirth: The Last White Raven’s Path to the Ultimate Assassin" Chapter 272: The Secrets of the Lost Age

The chamber was silent, save for the faint flickering of magical embers that hovered in the air.

Seraphis tightened her grip on the parchnt she had picked up. The ink, darkened with age, still pulsed faintly, as if the knowledge contained within it was still alive.

But as she moved deeper into the room, her sharp eyes caught sight of sothing even more valuable.

Against the far wall stood an ornate bookshelf, its wood blackened with ti, yet the glyphs carved into it still shimred faintly.

And upon those shelves—tos bound in dark leather, so sealed with chains, others locked by intricate arcane symbols.

Seraphis took a slow breath. These weren’t just ordinary books.

She approached cautiously, reaching for the nearest to. The mont her fingers brushed the cover, a surge of energy pulsed through her.

The title burned itself into her mind.

"The Unwritten Laws of Transmutation."

Her heart pounded. This was forbidden knowledge—magic that had likely been erased from history itself.

But there was more.

She scanned the shelves, her eyes drinking in the titles.

"The Art of Soulforging" – A book detailing how to bind souls into weapons.

"Blood Runes and Their True aning" – An analysis of lost blood magic.

"Echoes of the First World" – A to filled with historical records of the first civilizations.

"The Creator’s Codex" – A massive book sealed by chains, its title radiating a faint glow.

Seraphis didn’t hesitate. She took them all.

But just as she was about to step away, she noticed sothing beyond the bookshelves.

A stone pedestal, covered in dust, stood at the far end of the chamber.

Atop it lay a single, obsidian box, engraved with symbols she couldn’t recognize.

Slowly, she approached.

The mont she touched it, the symbols flared to life, spinning and shifting before unlocking the lid with a soft click.

Inside was a set of tools—old, but immaculate, each one humming with a subtle magical energy.

A silver chisel, its blade inscribed with unknown glyphs. A hamr, its head made of an unknown shimring tal. A pair of tongs, darkened with ti, yet warm to the touch.

Seraphis recognized them instantly—these were tools ant for creating magic itself.

“These must have belonged to a legendary blacksmith,” she muttered.

She didn’t hesitate. She took them all.

With her arms full of tos, parchnt, and tools, she turned back toward the corridor.

The chamber had given her its secrets. Now, she had to understand them.

Back at the Castle Cave

The journey back was uneventful, though Seraphis kept glancing at the ancient tools in her hands.

Once she reached her castle cave, she wasted no ti.

She entered her library, a grand hall lined with towering shelves, and set everything down on a massive oak table at the center.

She pulled up a chair, grabbing the first book.

"The Unwritten Laws of Transmutation."

As she flipped it open, the pages glowed faintly, revealing intricate diagrams and theories on reshaping matter.

She read about:

Turning stone into tal—not just an illusion, but true transmutation.

rging materials together at an atomic level—creating alloys that shouldn’t exist.

The concept of “living tal”—a material that adapts to its wielder.

Seraphis felt her mind expand as she absorbed every detail.

Next, she picked up "The Art of Soulforging."

This book was darker.

It spoke of:

Binding a soul into a weapon to grant it sentience.

The price of using a soul as fuel—the weapon would grow stronger, but at the cost of the wielder’s essence.

The difference between “willing” and “unwilling” soulforging—the latter being a forbidden art that twisted the soul into submission.

She closed the book, exhaling sharply. “That’s dangerous magic.”

But she had one more to that intrigued her the most.

"The Creator’s Codex."

The mont she touched the chains, they unraveled, and the book opened on its own.

The pages were… blank.

She frowned. “What?”

Then, words began to write themselves.

"To those who seek to create—know this: true creation cos with a price."

The book flipped its own pages, revealing passages about the first blacksmiths, the first enchanters, and the first weapons ever forged.

Seraphis’s breath hitched. This was history itself.

And then, at the very end of the book, a single na appeared.

But the ink was blurred, unreadable.

Seraphis stared.

Could this be connected to the female blacksmith the old man spoke of?

She would need ti to decipher this mystery.

But one thing was clear.

She had found sothing powerful—sothing that had been ant to stay buried.

And now… it was hers.