The Temple's Third Floor

Quill responded quickly.

Just one day after Sean announced in the group chat that he would attend the signing event on time, Old Sigel City's police force underwent a major reshuffle. Officers who weren't needed in their districts were sent to the downtown area where the signing would be held, leaving only the essential personnel behind.

On top of that, the major hotels had tightened their inspections. In the middle of last night, the police had raided several rooms and arrested dozens of call girls without the required licenses. They were all sitting in the station now, waiting to be sent in batches to Eldridge Cathedral for reform.

The motels hadn't been spared, either.

After receiving the girl's reminder, Sean returned to reality. He had only just reached the window and drawn the curtains when he saw a police car approaching from the distance and stopping downstairs. Two officers got out and went into the motel.

A while later, they came back out, got in the car, and drove off. They'd probably come to check the guest registrations?

Sean figured it wasn't a big deal.

That was one good thing about motels: under normal circumstances, they wouldn't sell out their guests. Sometimes they'd even help guests avoid room inspections. After all, if they were caught flouting the rules, they'd be punished too—fined at best, shut down at worst. And if they crossed paths with the wrong sort, the person might come after them once they got out of prison. To some extent, then, small motels and their guests were all in the same boat.

The girl at the front desk assumed Sean didn't know what had happened. After the officers left, she came over to knock on his door and take credit, arms folded as she leaned against the doorframe with a sway of her slender waist. She explained, "Look, handsome. You only checked in here yesterday, and the police came to check our records today. Isn't that a little too much of a coincidence? And you said you didn't have your ID. Let me guess... you're in trouble, can't show your face, and came here to hide, didn't you?"

"Tsk, who would've thought? With a face as refined as yours, you're actually a fugitive. Is 'polished scoundrel' a phrase made just to describe you?"

"But it's fine. I like polished scoundrels. Better yet, be a little rough. That kind of contrast is what I'm into."

When Sean didn't say anything, she assumed she'd guessed right and smirked. "So, handsome, I helped you out this time. How are you going to repay me?"

Sean thought for a moment and asked, "Have you eaten?"

"You want to take me out to eat?" The girl blinked. "Nope."

Sean said, "Then how about I hit you twice?"

The girl: "?"

"You're so rude!"

"Didn't you say you liked contrast?" Sean asked.

The girl shot back, "Then come and spear me!"

Sean was baffled. People really asked for that?

Then, under the girl's disbelieving gaze, he speared her right out the door.

The room was finally quiet.

Sean sat down on the bed, planning to rest for a while.

At first, when he heard that deep meditation in the Void Arts Space took a lot out of you, he'd been skeptical. But after trying it himself, Sean believed it. It really was exhausting. He was a little tired.

Mostly, he hadn't expected that, besides Saintess Oliya, another "heroine card" would appear in the pages of his life—and that Elvily might even be his sister-in-law...

But they didn't look alike?

And their ages didn't match, either.

Sean couldn't make heads or tails of it. In the end, he gave up trying and decided to wait for the next related dream.

Once night had fallen and his body had mostly recovered, Sean entered the Void Arts Space again.

What? Elvily had told him not to enter for the next few days?

Sorry, he'd never been one to follow instructions.

The more she told him not to go in, the more he wanted to.

Besides, when did a brother-in-law listen to his sister-in-law?

She was supposed to listen to him. If she did well, he might even reward her.

Elvily still didn't know that he and Kate had already met and become close brothers, united by the same faith. With Mr. Light Servant secretly protecting him, he was perfectly safe. He'd logged off in front of Elvily simply because he needed to rest anyway, and it was convenient to pretend. What came next was something he had to do in secret.

He was going to try to enter a higher level of the Hall of Truth.

The first time someone entered the temple, they had to earn a statue's approval. The statue would then send the wizard into the hall. After that, there was no need to go through all that again; they could enter directly through the temple's main doors. Of course, if they wanted to show off in front of the other wizards, they could enter through the statue just as they had the first time. Sean didn't want to draw attention, so he chose the door.

The back door, to be exact.

Only now did Sean truly get to see what the inside of the temple looked like.

It was a circular hall with a distinctly old-fashioned style. Oil paintings hung on the walls, while upside-down clocks and moving staircases gave it the feel of a medieval setting, with its subdued brown wood tones. Yet the stairs and walls still seemed unreal to the touch, lending the place an even greater sense of age, as though time itself had passed through it.

There were quite a few wizards on the first floor, but almost all of them were busy with their own tasks. Some were meditating, some were reading with books in hand, and others were talking quietly. The atmosphere was charged with the intensity of a study hall before a major exam, and few people were moving around.

No one noticed Sean, and he was happy to stay inconspicuous. Head lowered, he drifted silently to a corner like a ghost, then took the stairs up to the second floor.

The second floor was different. There were far fewer wizards, and not a single person was in sight.

That didn't mean it was truly empty. They were simply in the library or their dorms.

So few wizards could reach the second floor that there were more than enough spots in the library and dormitories. They had no need to come out here to meditate or read. And there were many paths from the second floor to the third. Buildings that connected multiple floors, like the library, could all lead upward—provided you had earned the second-floor statue's approval.

Without it, you'd find an ethereal door at the boundary between the second and third floors. There was one on every route, and no matter how hard you tried, you wouldn't be able to open it.

Sean saw no door—or rather, he did, but it stood open.

What stopped him wasn't a door, but a kind of mental pressure that was hard to describe.

The moment he stepped onto the third floor, his body suddenly felt heavy, as if he were carrying a two-hundred-pound rich woman on his shoulders. His knees nearly buckled under the weight, making every step a struggle. Beads of sweat even appeared on his forehead in an instant.

"Am I making things difficult for myself?"

Sean grumbled.

Aside from him, there wasn't a single wizard on the temple's third floor. It was even quieter than the second, so he could say whatever he wanted. Complaining out loud was more satisfying than just doing it in his head.

Sean had guessed that, as the "owner," he wouldn't be barred from entering the temple, but he hadn't expected mental pressure to be an issue.

Come to think of it, it wasn't hard to understand. When he'd built the Hall of Truth, he'd been a big shot above the tenth tier. This degree of mental pressure would have meant practically nothing to him; it had mostly been there to test the temple's students.

And the pressure on the third floor wasn't entirely a bad thing. If it was there, then there had to be knowledge he could only touch with the corresponding strength of mind. That was why he'd "sneaked" into the temple in the first place.

Still, he couldn't help complaining.

How had he not thought back then that he might end up in this situation himself?

What an idiot!

Sean cursed himself as freely as anyone else.

Grumbling all the while, he kept going, carrying the two-hundred-pound rich woman on his back.

He passed a place that looked like a broadcasting studio and reached the third-floor library. Then Sean suddenly stopped talking.

No more cursing.

Because he'd really found knowledge.

Knowledge was usually recorded in books, and books were usually kept in libraries, so the first place Sean searched was the third floor of the library, which no other wizards had reached. And just as he'd expected—

The library's third floor had row after row of bookshelves stretching as far as the eye could see. They held countless powerful spells and alchemy manuals left over from the Scholar Era, including even a handful of True Formulas he'd never dreamed of. He knew what they did, but not how they worked.

And that wasn't all.

At the very center, a heavy book sat on display inside a glass case.

Four words were written on its old, creased cover—

The Beginning of Forbidden Spells