Chapter 10: Tainted Artifact

In the beginning, the universe was shrouded in darkness and chaos. But from that void emerged a being, a being of pure energy and light. This was the Aeon, the god of spirits.

For countless eons, the Aeon existed alone, observing the universe and studying all there was to know about the natural world. He watched as civilizations rose and fell, as wars were fought and peace was made.

But even with all of the knowledge he held in his power. The Aeon remained solitary, a passive observer of the world around him.

But one day, the Aeon felt a stir within his heart, a yearning for something more than mere observation. He desired to create and shape the world according to his design, leaving his mark on it.

And so, the Aeon set out to create his own race, a people who would embody his ideals and beliefs. He imbued them with the energy known as anima, giving them life and powers beyond their wildest dreams.

These people became known as the Althera, a race of beings with incredible magical abilities and a deep connection to the natural world.

The Aeon watched over them as they grew and flourished, guiding them with his wisdom and knowledge.

The Althera lived in a world known as Ulythes, a vast and beautiful land filled with lush forests, rolling hills, and shimmering rivers. They built great cities and fortresses, and their magic allowed them to construct wonders beyond the imagination of mortal men.

But as the Altherians' knowledge and mastery of their elements grew, so did their hubris and arrogance. The Altherians began to see their kind above the other races of Ulythes, and their actions became increasingly reckless and selfish.

The Aeon watched as they mined the earth for its wealth, polluted the skies with their magic, and fought wars over territory and resources.

The Aeon saw the danger of this and warned his people of the sophistication of their hubris. But the Altherians were too proud to listen and continued down a path of destruction and ruin.

As the Altherians continued to use their magic, they began to drain the life force of the world around them. Plants withered and died, animals fled to safer lands, and the once vibrant world of Ulythes began to wither and decay.

Aeon watched as the Altherians fell into darkness, their cities crumbling and their people scattered. He knew he could not intervene directly, as their fate was in their own hands.

The Aeon watched with sadness as his people brought about their own downfall. He knew the world was beyond saving, and Aeon wept for their loss.

At that moment, Aeon vowed to never create a race of beings of such immense power and instead watch over the natural world, protecting it from harm.

And so, the Aeon continues to watch over the universe, observing and knowing, but always with a sense of sadness for the loss of his beloved creation. But Aeon still had hope for the Althera.

The Aeon continued to watch over them, waiting for the day when they would remember his teachings and return to the ways of spirit.

Until this day, Aeon remained a guardian of the natural world, a symbol of hope and spirit, and a reminder of the dangers of hubris and pride.

Even as the Altherians descended into darkness.

Aeon remained.

A beacon of hope in a world tormented by despair.

***

"Are you alright, lad?" one of the soldiers asked, extending a hand.

Lionel took the soldier's hand and sat up slowly, feeling weak and disoriented. "I... I don't know," he muttered.

The soldiers helped Lionel to his feet and led him to a nearby tent, where a healer examined him. After checking his health, the healer shook his head. "I don't see anything physically wrong with you. But you should rest for a while, just to be safe."

Lionel head still spun around as he lay down on a cot, making it difficult for him to remember about what had just happened. The vision of the army and forge still lingered in his mind, but its meaning eluded him. He rubbed his temples, and gathered his thoughts, but the more he thought about it, the more confused he became.

"The book, right, it was the book." Lionel groaned. It was the same plastic-bound cover cluttered with unfamiliar language written on the cover. At first glance, the page appeared empty, devoid of any written text or scriptures. However, after he unfurled the front page of the book, the pages suddenly came alive, with each letters shifting and changing with every movement of his hand. The book revealed complicated patterns and symbols arranged in written words that seemed to be independent of any language he knew. The text was written in an unfamiliar language, filled with symbols, equations, and concepts that he couldn't even begin to understand completely. The pages contained ages of knowledge and progress, describing different types of materials that were matter and energy.

Lionel wondered if the mysterious voice he had heard was somehow connected to the language of the book. Was it possible that the book had unlocked a part of his mind, allowing him to understand a language he shouldn't have been able to comprehend before?

"Feeling better now?" A soldier interrupted.

Lionel opened his eyes and sat up, feeling a little more clear-headed. "What happened to me?" he replied, looking around the tent.

The soldier shrugged. "We don't know for sure. You fell down like a sack of potatoes out of the blue. The healer checked you out, but they couldn't find anything physically wrong with you."

"Here, have some water." The soldier handed him a canteen, which Lionel gratefully accepted. He drank deeply, feeling the cool liquid soothe his parched throat.

"I needed that. Thank you," Lionel said, handing the canteen back to the soldier while standing up, still feeling a bit wobbly. "I think I need some air." His voice was still hoarse.

"Maybe a walk will clear my head."

Once he stepped outside the tent, he noticed that the camp had already been set up and the soldiers were starting to clear the area. The sky had already turned into a beautiful array of oranges and dipping clouds, signaling the arrival of the evening.

Lionel made his way to the nearby river and settled down by its banks, letting the gentle sound of the water calm his thoughts.

The market had been emptied out, with only a handful of people packing up their stalls and leaving. Lionel sat in silence, staring at the book resting on his lap. Suddenly, he felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder, causing him to jump.

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He turned around to see the captain of the soldiers standing beside him, wearing a short sword hanging from a scabbard tied to his belt. His stern expression sent shivers down his spine. "May I have a moment of your time, lad?" the captain asked, settling beside him.

Even after knowing the question was coming to him, he could still hear his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to maintain his composure. He set the book aside and turned to face the captain, steeling his mind for the questions.

The captain studied Lionel for a while, his piercing eyes looking straight at him. "What's your age, boy?" he demanded.

Lionel swallowed hard, feeling a rumble form in his stomach. "I'm thirteen, sir," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lionel's heart skipped as he thought of the implications of his lie. Should he tell the truth or keep his secret hidden? He understood that the anima ceremony was a revered practice, a custom that had been passed on for countless generations.

It's one of the traditions that have been kept for centuries. It was believed that by awakening their anima, individuals would gain access to their innermost spirit and be able to tap into their spiritual realm.

The ceremony was a rite of passage that every member of the society had to go through. Its purpose held a deep symbolic meaning within the community, representing maturity and strength. Lionel had always been fascinated by the stories his father had shared with him about the ceremony. Some had seen flames, others had seen water, and some had even seen animals or plants. It was different for everyone.

In fact, Lionel also yearned to experience the awakening of his own anima. But given his age, he would still have to wait until he was thirteen, like everyone else.

"Thirteen," the captain repeated, his expression growing serious. "You shouldn't be traveling alone in Hidoran Forest at such a young age, even if it's not as dangerous as some other zones."

Lionel bit his lips with a flush of embarrassment. He knew he looked younger than his age, and it was not uncommon for people to mistake him for a young kid.

"I'm searching for an herb in the forest, sir," Lionel replied and gulped nervously. "I need to follow a specific direction to find it."

The captain nodded, but his expression remained stern. "And what about the ceremony? Are you part of it?"

Lionel blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Ceremony? What ceremony?"

The captain scowled. "Don't try to play dumb with me, lad. You can't fool me that easily."

Lionel shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about, sir. I haven't been to any temple or ceremony."

"Yet..." The thought of lying made him uncomfortable, almost causing him to blurt out the truth.

"Are you sure?" The captain looked skeptical, but he dropped the subject. "What about that metal-slime you fought a while back? What happened there?"

Lionel's heart skipped a beat. He had been hoping the captain wouldn't bring that up. "It was a tough fight," he said, his voice barely audible. "I thought I was going to die. But somehow, I managed to defeat it."

The captain remained skeptical, and Lionel could tell he wasn't convinced. "I find it hard to believe that you don't remember anything at all," the captain said. "That was quite a feat you accomplished there. I heard it from others."

Lionel tensed, his heart throbbing, not wanting to reveal his true abilities and risk drawing unwanted attention. He recalled the alchemist's advice about keeping his abilities hidden.

"I was lucky, sir," Lionel replied, trying to sound convincing. "I read about the monster's weaknesses in some books, so I knew it was weak against certain herbs. I managed to make a flask potion out of those herbs just in time, stopping it from causing further harm."

Lionel paused, taking a deep breath. "And as for the rest, I don't remember much. It was all a blur."

He wanted to tell the captain and yell at him that his magic wasn't made from an anima, but he also knew it was better to keep that information for now. Even if he were to reveal the knowledge written within the book, he would likely be labeled a heretic and shunned by the community.

In this world, life flourished from anima, the life force that flowed through all living things. Anima was a mysterious and powerful energy that allowed people to use magic, heal wounds, and even bring objects to life. The book held secrets and knowledge that went against the conventional beliefs and practices of the anima.

In a world where everything depended on the anima, change, and progress were hard to come by. People clung to the old ways, afraid to deviate from the traditional teachings passed down from generation to generation. However, for some reason, Lionel couldn't help but feel drawn to the knowledge contained within the strange book. It held the promise of unlocking untold power and unraveling the inner secrets of the world, but at what cost?

Would he really be willing to risk everything for the sake of progress and knowledge?

Or would he be content to remain in the safety of his familiar world, where the rules were evident? And the boundaries were known?

It was a difficult decision.

Lionel could feel the weight of the captain's eyes on him, but he maintained his composure, keeping his face neutral. After a few moments of silence, the captain finally spoke. "Very well, I'll take your word for it," he said, still doubtful what he had just heard.

Lionel breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that the captain seemed to have bought his lie. "Thank you, sir," he replied as he silently prayed that the captain would leave it behind.

During the exchange, his mind was constantly plagued by the mysterious book resting on his lap. Its presence seems to be calling out to him, urging him to open its pages and explore its secrets further. The book had already become an obsession for him, and he wouldn't rest until he learned all of its secrets.

Wearing his [Rugues New Glasses]. The title that used to be a blur of letters and symbols now appeared crystal clear to him. The gibberish mess that had previously left him confused and frustrated began to assemble into a coherent phrase in plain English.

[Introduction to Chemistry]

A thesis written by a student, Rylbert Einston.

[???]

Taking a deep breath, Lionel opened the book, his fingers trembling with anticipation. To his surprise, the first pages, which had previously been nonsense to him, were now starting to make sense.

Yet, as he stared at the strange symbols, he remembered the voice whispering at the back of his mind. It was the same voice, a whisper that spoke directly into his thoughts. In a sudden epiphany, everything fell into place. The meaning of the book's patterns and connections between its complexities became apparent to him. It was as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, and he finally could see the underlying structure and logic behind its knowledge.

Slowly, he closed his eyes, and a small flame flickered to life in the palm of his hand. Staring in marvel as the fire caressed around his skin. The change happened, the first and second pages of the book were now glowing with soft light, similar to the flame he once used to fight against the [Inrigs Slime]. The pages began to write on their own like a pen had come to life, writing out new words and diagrams that were increasingly complex. Soon enough, he began to understand its symbols and equations from those of a field called chemistry and material science.

"Science," he muttered, repeating the word through his lips, struggling to understand its language. As he continued to read the book, his understanding of its language deepened, and the words on the page began to make sense. The book contained secrets to creating materials with incredible strength and durability that surpassed anything he had ever known in metalworking.

The second page contained detailed diagrams and equations for creating a new type of alloy. It explains how to refine and mix them in precise ratios to achieve the desired properties, such as increased strength, flexibility, and corrosion resistance.

Additionally, the page explained a combination of metals such as titanium, copper, and silver, along with a few rare earth elements that he had never seen or heard of in his entire life.

Lionel's mind raced as he weighed the implications of this newfound knowledge. If he could create such alloys, he would revolutionize the world of metalworking and perhaps even become the most renowned craftsman in the land.

But as he continued to read, Lionel realized that the process was far from simple. It required equipment and techniques that were beyond the capabilities of his skills and experiences.

Determined, he clutched the book tightly in his hands and made a bold decision in his heart. He would seek out and find individuals whose knowledge and resources could help him unveil the ideas written in the book. It was a risky decision, but at the same time, it was the only way for him to move forward and gain the knowledge he sought.

But for now, it's just another dream that he needs to set aside, at least temporarily. Lionel sighed, unable to bear the thought of the time and resources he needed to accomplish his goals. Indeed, it would still take a long time before he could make his dream a reality. Setting his thoughts aside, he carefully placed the book back into his backpack, closed it, and slung the bag over his shoulder.

Still, he was curious about the arrival of the soldiers and the god emerging in his mind. Was he blessed by the gods? Or was it the byproduct of the book's mysterious knowledge? The second premise seems impossible, considering that its knowledge had no relation to this world's spiritual elements.

But again, for the book to appear here, there's a chance it had already been tainted by the mystical forces that shaped the world. For all he knows, a good chunk of artifacts and armaments of immense power are scattered across the land, each carrying a unique connection to the spiritual essence of the world.

Then, with a spark. "What about the ceremony? Can independent individuals perform their own ceremony?" Lionel thought.

Lionel stood up, brushing off the dust from his shirt, glancing at the surroundings before him. The sky had already begun to set into a deep shade of orange, with the sun slowly disappearing behind the hills.

He strode back to the tent, venting out his frustration. "Great, what a nice timing..." he muttered, noticing the night was about to fall.