The vast expanse of this library extends in all directions, with towering shelves forming an unbroken ring around you, creating an illusion of infinity. The shelves, meticulously carved from dark wood, rise to imposing heights, their surfaces adorned with intricate patterns and symbols hinting at the wisdom they once cradled.

As he moves further into this monumental space, he realized that the library had circular arrangement, with the library as a whole following the pattern of a perfect circunference. Due to its massive size, it was impossible to tell from the outside. However, after walking around for a while, Arthur was positive of his acertion.

'If the library is organized in this manner, heading towards the center seems like a promising move. In the movies I've watched, that's typically where the treasure is found.'

And thus, Arthur adjusts his movement pattern accordingly, guiding himself toward the center. The warm glow of ancient lanterns suspended from the ceiling being the only company he has in his lonely jorney.

One thing he found deeply puzzling was that, despite the grandeur of the library, a haunting and unending emptiness lingered. With every step he took he felt this emptiness seep into his bones.

Each shelf, though meticulously organized with precision, following an a specific pattern in order to a perfect circle. Who knows how long it took for whoever built this place to arrange things this way. If it was back in his old world, even with modern technology, it would takes decades, if not centuries to complete.

Yet, despite the awe-inspiring nature of this place, Arthur hadn't spotted a single book on any of the shelves so far. His original theory was that the outer reaches of the library remained book-less due to an insufficient supply to fill the entire structure. He believed that as he approached the center, books would gradually make their appearance—a plausible assumption given the colossal size of the building.

However, that theory had been proved wrong. Despite almost an hour of walking, he hadn't come across a single book. Arthur wasn't lingering in the outer edges either. He was on a direct path to the center. Yet, the absence of books persisted. Peering ahead, it appeared that the prospect of encountering one wasn't unfolding anytime soon.

It was a peculiar situation. The purpose of constructing such a massive library seemed baffling if no books were intended to inhabit its shelves. Starting a project of this magnitude would probably require some confidence that a considerable portion, if not the entirety, of the library could be filled with books. Not even a madman would spend so much effort in a empty library.

One plausible explanation would be that, immediately upon completion, the library was abandoned for reasons unknown, leaving it devoid of any stored books. A failed project of sorts.

Examining the shelves, he could tell that the assumption of the library having always been devoid of books was mistaken . This library had undoubtedly been a home to a myriad of great books in the past, documenting a diverse range of information. He could feel it—from the slight book marks that adorned each shelf to the lingering smell of dried ink that stained some walls, and the small pieces of paper left behind in the corners of the shelves.

The once vibrant repository of countless lifetimes' worth of knowledge has been reduced to a mere shell. The silence is palpable, broken only by the hushed whispers of his footsteps.

Vestiges of the library's former glory are evident in the worn and weathered shelves. Traces of the immeasurable knowledge that once dwelled within these walls still linger, permeating the very essence of the wood.

He pondered on what might have occurred. It didn't appear to be the aftermath of a great fire that turned everything to ash—the shelves remained intact. Even if only the shelves survived the fire, there was no trace of ash from the burning of countless books. With no wind in the place, the ash would have lingered, yet there was no evidence of such destruction. No remnants to indicate a fire had ever occurred.

could the books have been stolen? Did someone infiltrate this place, claiming everything for themselves? Recalling the sign cut in half at the entrance of the library added weight to this theory. He continued to theorize in his mind, considering the implications of a covert plundering of the literary treasures within these walls.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

As he indulges in his theories, attempting to unravel a millennium-old mystery, he presses on.

At last, after what felt like an eternity of traversing endless shelves, a subtle change in the scenery captures his attention. The shift in view, however slight, immediately seizes his focus.

He quickens his pace and moves towards the source of the subtle change in the environment.

One bookshelve, two bookshelves, three bookshelves, four bookshelves ... Twelve bookshelves.

After the twelveth bookshelve, Arhur finally manages to reach the place he had seen earlier. After such a monotous walk, the change in view is instantly greeted with a lot of anticipation.

He looks around.

It was a small room. The first thing that captures his senses is the aroma. Initially, a sweet fragrance wafts through the air, possessing the power to soothe even the most agitated nerves, taming the fiercest of beasts back to sanity. Yet, upon closer inspection, a second, more subtle scent emerges. This one is fresher and purer, capable of keeping the mind refreshed and focused—akin to a brisk, cold shower in the summer, banishing any trace of drowsiness from the system.

Allowing himself to immerse in the fragrance for a moment, he lets the scent weave its way around him. After a few seconds, his body acclimates, and he shifts his focus away from the captivating aroma.

He focuses on his surroundings again.

He gazes around the small room, taking in its details. As expected, it maintains the circular shape consistent with the rest of the library. Positioned in one corner is an armchair—not overly luxurious but radiating a cozy allure. In stark contrast to the ostentatious library outside, this room offers a most welcome change.

The decor follows suit, with a modest fireplace casting a warm glow, flames gently crackling. A small table holds a tea setup, and a beautiful rug with intricate designs sprawls across the floor. Elegant chandeliers descend from the ceiling, illuminating the space and creating an inviting, comfortable atmosphere.

In the center of the room, a substantial marble table commands attention, acting as the main focal point that ties everything together. Intrigued, he steps closer to inspect the table more closely.

When he gets close, he gets slightly shocked.

On the corner of the table lay a peculiar pair of glasses. They exude a geeky energy, seemingly crafted for the quintessential Harry Potter enthusiast. Yet, that's not what astonishes him. It's the three books positioned beside the glasses that truly grab his attention.

After speding who knows how long without seeing single one, he finally found some.

He looks at them.

'Basics of Qi Cultivation; Basics of Body Cultivation; Basics of Soul Cultivation'

"That's... Actually pretty good"

While these names might not impress most, they were precisely what Arthur had been hoping for.

All his knowledge of cultivation stemmed from the memories he inherited from Lao Jianming.

Lao Jianming, though somewhat impressive in his own right, was a cultivator of modest stature, navigating the realms with limited experience. His earlier years were dedicated to secluded cultivation within the confines of his sect. Following his father's instructions, he never ventured into questioning the fundamentals or sought to unravel the deeper concepts of the cultivation world.

In the grand scheme of things, Lao Jianming's insights into cultivation proved rather limited. Being a low-level cultivator, he remained oblivious to the intricacies of higher-level workings. Frankly, even his comprehension of the realm he had attained was somewhat subpar.

Adding to the challenge was the almost nonexistent knowledge Lao Jianming possessed regarding body and soul cultivation. The meager amount of information proved insufficient for Arthur's aspirations.

He wanted to understand how everything related to cultivation worked. He sought to comprehend the inner workings of a process that defied all logic. He yearned to unravel the mysteries, pushing the boundaries of the system. His quest extended to understanding the limits, questioning the existence of perfection, and harboring an earnest ambition to achieve it if it indeed existed.

To attain such a lofty goal, knowledge was paramount. These books, at least according to their titles, seemed to hold at least some very basic information regarding the topic. The initial step of a lengthy and arduous journey of learning lay before him.

Unbeknownst to Arthur, a genuine goal began to take shape within his subconscious. Though not fully realized, his once-empty heart was gradually finding fulfillment, even if he wasn't entirely aware of it just yet.

With the books awaiting his eager exploration, Arthur turns away momentarily. Deciding to address the "big elephant in the room" first, Arthur looks up.

In the heart of the room, suspended just above the table, a peculiar ball of light hovers gracefully. Emitting a soft, gradual glow, it stands in stark contrast to everything surrounding it, as if a manifestation from a more ethereal plane of existence.

The luminous orb seemed to go to great lengths to capture attention, as if there were an invisible sign proclaiming its importance. It demanded notice in a way that hinted at significance beyond mere chance.

Swayed by an imperceptible force, Arthur yields to the pull and approaches the radiant orb. Without resisting, he allows himself to be guided, embracing the intrigue of the unknown.

Arthur's hand moves toward the luminous ball, akin to a puppet responding to the gentle prodding of its puppeteer.