The 58th Shadow was physically weaker than any of the other Shadows.
He was a mere human—born without high energy, a bloodline, or talent. He rose through the ranks not with strength, but with his inventions. Only after proving his worth did he receive the Emperor's Grace, granting him an extended lifespan and a slight enhancement to his physical abilities.
Still, it remained a mystery to many.
How did a powerless man hold his own against Shadows wielding devastating abilities?
He had no aura core. No physical-type Meta ability. And yet, in close combat, he could sometimes keep up.
"There isn't any further mention of it…" I muttered, eyes scanning the yellowed pages. "What did he mean by creating circuits within the vessel?"
"Should we try it on someone?" Moriarty offered nonchalantly, his voice laced with morbid curiosity.
I shot him a look.
"Unless you're planning to kidnap someone and run your experiments in a basement far from the academy's reach, then no. We're not installing circuits into this body."
"We could test it on a few variables," Moriarty added with a shrug. "You know… if we take on a mission this weekend. Not saying we have to, but it could be a lead to something useful." His expression twisted into a half-smirk.
"But how do you even create circuits within a vessel?" I muttered, mostly to myself. "Our bodies aren't made of materials that are compatible with circuitry."
My fingers tapped impatiently against the desk as I stared at the passage again.
"It doesn't make any sense. Just a single, cryptic line—no explanation, no follow-up…"
I sighed, closing the book softly.
"Father mad again?" Wally asked, his small voice laced with confusion as he tilted his head.
"…Huh," I blinked, caught off guard by the phrasing. "Yeah… that would be a good way to describe him," I muttered, pushing the books aside with a slow, deliberate motion. "Maybe he really was mad."
I leaned back in my chair, eyes drifting toward the ceiling—searching, not for answers, but for resolve.
"After all…" I whispered, "without talent, madness is the only path to the top."
The silence around me deepened, as if the room itself were holding its breath.
"…Screw it." A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. "I already started walking this path long ago. So what if I have to lose my mind to keep moving forward?"
Although there weren't any more clues on this particular subject in the book, I knew that if I could pass the upcoming technological exam, I might gain access to the sealed archives—especially the other writings of the 58th Shadow. Perhaps then, the truth behind his methods would finally be within reach.
Still, I had theories.
The 58th Shadow may have lacked strength of body, but his mental fortitude was on par with any of the other Shadows. That meant he had to possess a Mind Realm.
"What if…" I mused aloud, "he controlled his vessel like a puppet? With his soul acting as the puppeteer, pulling the strings from within the Mind Realm?"
Moriaty, ever the voice of cold reason, frowned. "That still doesn't explain how he managed to create circuits within the vessel."
"Could he have tried… replacing his blood vessels with Grade 1 extraterrestrial alloy circuits?" Moriaty continued, scratching his chin.
I grimaced, rubbing my temples in frustration. "A normal human would die instantly. Every known extraterrestrial alloy is far too toxic to be sustained inside the human body."
But then it struck me…
"Special constitutions… Argh!" I muttered, clenching my fist. "What if he had one tailored for this exact thing? Even if such toxicity would kill a normal human, a rare constitution might've neutralized the effects completely!"
I clicked my tongue in frustration, annoyed by the tantalizing possibility.
"Both of you are veering off-track," Ryuk interjected calmly, his tone unreadable.
The idea shattered instantly. Just from that one vague comment, Moriaty and I discarded the theory. If Ryuk didn't outright deny it—but chose instead to cast doubt—that was more than enough reason to drop the thought.
"You're approaching this too logically," he added, lazily flying up to perch on top of a bookshelf. "Your thoughts are clouded. Sorcery's curiosity still lingers in your soul. Changing topics won't erase that pull—it'll only muddy the waters further. Instead of scattering your focus across everything, stabilize your Mind Realm first."
I didn't want to admit it—but he was right.
If I kept theorizing without clarity, I'd drift further from the truth. Worse, I'd fail to grasp what the 58th Shadow actually achieved.
It was already the end of the third and final class for the day, and lunchtime was approaching—but I had no time to spare. At least, that should have been the case... if I hadn't just realized something crucial.
Nether Vision—oddly enough—felt awfully similar to the Chrono-sense of the Timeless.
The primary ability of the Timeless—the one that allows us to perceive time differently and manipulate it freely—is far more aligned with Nether Vision than with the Mana Heart, which allows witches and wizards to wield and shape mana.
"That's why our Nether Vision is green…" I muttered, leaning back slightly as understanding clicked into place. "I didn't intend to wade deeper into the swamp of sorcery, but if this truly aligns with Chrono-sense… I'd be a fool to ignore it."
As those words settled in my mind, I could feel the Mind Realm fully stabilizing—its warped edges mended, its pressure subdued.
Even after the Mind Realm had been mended, it didn't shrink back to its original size. Perhaps the ritual had forced it to the next level.
"Hm, let's see." I closed my eyes and focused, letting the eerie green flicker of Nether Vision take hold of my senses.
Everything around me remained shrouded in monochrome—shades of lifeless grey, with Wally still glowing pure white in contrast. At first, I could only feel the vague presence of things. But as I concentrated, the vague forms began to sharpen—edges defining themselves, textures bleeding into awareness. I was no longer just sensing; I was seeing without using my eyes.
The entire first section of the second floor unfolded in my mind, every bookshelf, every chair, even the lightest scuffs on the floor tiles... all revealed in silhouette.
Should I try extending it further?
Driven by curiosity, I carefully slipped my consciousness past the boundary and into the second section—an area off-limits to beginners. But the moment I tried to focus on any of the books inside, I hit a wall. I could see them… but I couldn't read them. It was like looking through fogged glass—close enough to touch, yet just out of reach.
"You need a pass for that,"
A raspy, otherworldly voice echoed directly in my mind.
My eyes flew open.
Floating just a few feet in front of me was a figure that looked like it had stepped straight out of a forbidden ritual—half skeletal, half ghost, its translucent frame cloaked in a suffocating black aura. Death energy clung to him like a second skin, and through my Nether Vision, he radiated a darkness so dense it made my own thoughts cave inward.
Just seeing him with Nether Vision… made me want to die.
Made me want to join him.
Made me want to plunge into death and emerge reborn… as a great sorcerer like him.
"Fascinating..." The word slipped from my lips, unfiltered, almost reverent.
"Father, what are you doing?"
Wally's childlike voice chimed in my head like a sudden gust of clarity.
My head jerked down.
In my hand was a spear of ice—its crystalline tip trembling mere inches from my chest, poised directly above my heart.
I hadn't even realized I conjured it.
I immediately shut off my Nether Vision and hurled the ice spear from my hands. Without looking back, I signaled Wally to return.
Catching the message, Wally transformed into a gun mid-air and landed perfectly in my grasp. I didn't hesitate—I fired toward the entity, eyes still tightly shut.
"Hoho... I didn't expect you to snap out of that," the entity chuckled as the bullet stopped mid-air, hovering just inches from its face.
"Yeah? Well, I expected you to do that," I smirked, eyes still closed.
"Hm?" The being tilted its head in confusion. Then, before it could react, its form twisted unnaturally as it was pulled into the bullet, which clattered harmlessly onto the table.
"Impressive."
"…Is this fun to you, Headmaster Charles?" I muttered, still refusing to open my eyes. "Even if this was a test, you trapped your entire school in an illusion—and lured the other four schools into obsession with sorcery. Why would you run an experiment that could drive students to suicide?"
"…None of the students across the four academies would have taken their lives, unless they went completely mad and learned sorcery by skipping their assigned classes—like you did," the voice now whispered directly into my ear, too close.
Before I could even turn around, an ice-cold hand coiled around my neck like a shadow. The voice, laced with something ancient, spoke again—closer now.
"I had everything under control… or so I thought. But then you acted out of order. If only you hadn't, maybe you wouldn't be this far gone either."
"Keuk... So... Did I fail?" I gasped, barely able to breathe as his fingers coiled tighter around my neck.
"…No," Headmaster Charles replied, his voice quiet but resolute. "You passed—along with two others who weren't even interested in the subject."
He released me, and I slumped slightly, catching my breath as the invisible weight lifted.
I could already guess who the other two were.
"So... why did you initiate the test so soon? It's only the second day of the academy," I asked, rubbing my throat.
"You don't need to know that right now," Charles said flatly. "Since you passed, your absence from previous classes will not be held against you. And—" he slipped something into my right hand, cold and thin like metal-plated bone, "—if you ever have questions about sorcery, you may seek me out with that."
I opened my palm slowly, feeling the strange energy pulsing from the object.
"…I'm not planning to transfer to your school," I muttered.
"Hoho... time will tell," his voice echoed faintly as he vanished, leaving behind a silence that made the black card in my hand feel even heavier.
I looked down at it.
A skull—bestial, horned, and submerged in swirling waves—was engraved into its surface.
The mark of the School of Sorcery.