For the next few days, Ovid and Anna’s relationship didn’t change. The two would still chat on occasion, though the topic they discussed never again delved into their future. Anna spent most of her time on advancing to the next step, while Ovid continued excluding a smell of ink.

Occasionally, he would open a jug of strong liquor and the scent of ink would mix with the wine.

On one day, Ovid drank half of the wine in the large jug but grew a little drunk. He didn’t drop, but with much difficulty, crawled under the blanket and covered himself.

As the air began to fill with the fragrance of the wine, Ovid had a dream.

Those that had taken the first step toward immortality seldomly dream, and if it does occur, it generally meant some form of spiritual interference or peer into the future or past. Even though Ovid’s preception had been destroyed when he had flooded his body with the purest mana from the star Tanin, he found it extremely suspicious, because he didn’t dream much even before achieving preception.

However, the next moment, he could tell that the opposite party’s intentions were peaceful. He was not sucked into the man’s world, nor was his soul being taken over, Ovid could feel each other’s perception and soul.

This soul was very familiar to him. It did not have any joy, but more of a serene feeling from realisation.

---

The Sage Glafx’s eyes seemed warm and wise as the browning pages in ancient tomes as he quietly looked at Ovid.

“When I had been journeying the world, I never knew what I was seeking for. Only after I had met you did I understand that I was searching for a world outside the bounds of this one.”

He gazed at the starry skies in the dream world as if peering through its veils and seeing the figures that had ascended countless years ago. His pale-looking face revealed a smile.

“In the end, it seemed that I won. Since you lost to that man, and that man had lost to me. It’s a shame that us two had already turned into dust, and will never know how it ends. Perhaps this is the beginning of my revenge exacted against the world?”

The sage Glafx drew his attention back to Ovid’s eyes.

A buzzing sound was heard within his mind. He understood that many things had been passed to him from the sage’s stare. Some of these things were long lost manuals, and others just some intangible feelings.

“You are an outsider. As an outsider, the world will never permit your existence and ordinary ways will not lead you to sainthood. Even the path you are currently on will end halfway. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not that you met me - the path that I treaded on can bypass the will of the celestials. Though you have even less chance of success, and perhaps you will die before you take the first step, I wish you luck. And I will also curse you.”

Sage Glafx had left an imprint of his soul on Ovid before he had turned into white dust. All people want to leave behind a legacy, either in the form of children or disciples, and the sage was no different. Ovid had a good temperament and strong will, most importantly, he was not afraid of death… it was natural that Glafx would choose Ovid as his sole successor.

Quietly observing his last words, Glafx gently swayed in the wind as he closed his eyes. His motion seemed natural and peaceful, like a falling feather.

A violent breeze blew across the dream world and the last vestiges of the renown Sage Glafx that had changed history by teaching Alexander, dispersed in the wind.

---

The son of a court physician in an elven city, Glafx, came into this world and the owl of wisdom greeted him. When he was an innocent babe, he had seen people die and suffer, because his family were doctors, and dabbled in the line between life and death.

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After earning the respect of the king during an assassination attempt, he requested to access the royal library.

At that time, he learnt of the life and experiences of countless people through the books he read through and realised that he too was going to become a single page on these books one day. That day, the starry skies were still the same, but he was prepared to end his life.

Yet in the end, he didn’t. Instead, he gained enlightenment and achieved sagehood. He travelled the Aeon forest and advised countless rulers, becoming famous in the process.

He wanted to leave behind a legacy like Alexander, but somewhere, he saw the suffering of the ordinary man and understood that they and the saints were of the same mould. At that time, he speculated that all people could sagehood.

So, he travelled the world in search of a definite answer to breaking out of the world’s law. Then he realised that was impossible in this world, and decided to create a new world.

He had strength equal to Gael and even that old creature Julia but was even more intelligent than them. Yet in the end, he found nothing. In his desperation, he passed down the close guarded secrets to manipulating mana to Alexander.

He was aware that Alexander’s ambition would lead to the elves’ end, but he was willing to kill his own people to create this new world.

In the end, he did not succeed, Alexander ascended to godhood while he was imprisoned by his student for one hundred thousand years.

Finally, he saw hope in the form of a foolish child who hasn’t even reach deaconhood.

But when he saw that hope, he died.

In his last consciousness, he learnt that he didn’t really care about anything.

He then understood, that he was waiting for death, and had delayed it for one hundred thousand years.

That day under the starry skies, he had no courage to slit his throat or take the goblet of poison.

From then on, the world was just a sea of blood to him.

He was a dead man living on borrowed time.

He was already a dead person among the others in the library.

---

When Ovid woke up, his expression was blank as he lied still. He did not perform the breathing exercise as he would every morning.

He did not expect Sage Glafx to be still in a state of being after his sword had pierced the sage’s heart, and to be able to last so long before finally appearing.

But Sage Glafx was now truly dead, only the pieces of consciousness he had left in Ovid’s mind remain.

These sentiments were complex and messy, just like the strange man himself.

After a long time, the feelings were finally sorted by Ovid, and only the technique the man had left him remained.

Just it’s presence alone caused his body to be flooded with the essence of Tanin. There was no need for it to be purified to suit his body. The wool blanket he left of shivered slightly above him as if disturbed by the wind.

Ovid looked at his smooth tender hand and could not find anything different. He poked it a few times with his other hand and did not find anything different. He did not turn into a strange creature that was super strong like a certain green monster had after contact with gamma rays.

However, he knew that something must have changed while he was dreaming. The world felt different yet familiar to him - it was because he regained his preception.

He used his preception and looked inside his body. He discovered a similar scene as Anna had when she had been self-assessing, though his mountains weren’t as tall and his rivers weren’t as wide. The rivers come together and formed a clean and pure lake. It did not have the same redness as Anna’s. The mana from Tanin flowed through his veins and entered his heart, before flowing outward once more and absorbed by his every bone and pore.

This could normally be achieved only when one reaches sainthood, where their body would become almost invulnerable to blades and other forms of harm. In a strange way, Ovid could now be described as half a saint - at least, he was strong enough to face off against Catherine in Phalaris and come to a tie. Of course, before he entered Gael’s tomb, he was already able to exchange blows with Margrethe, that phoenix girl.

The feeling of mana pouring through the body was truly comfortable, it was like seeing a supernova through his telescope. Exciting and euphoric. All his sense were sharpened.

“How strange. It seems like my body is demanding energy from the world at a constant rate. If it were not for Tanin, this world might have run out of mana.”

He furrowed his eyes and thought to himself. They said Catherine was the youngest bishop in recent years, she was fifty while this current body was around fourteen. If this gets out, would the pope, Catherine’s new master, spit out blood and die of shock?

Of course, this was just a musing came to his mind. While he wasn’t one to joke, the sudden advancement to a state close sainthood was simply too joyous for him to remain silent and calm.

He watched to the desk covered in paper Cai Lun paper and ink, retrieving his sword from beside the table, he grasped the hilt of the ordinary blade.

His strike was very ordinary and simple, but that means that it was extremely fast and concentrated on one point. After nearly a month confined to the wheelchair, his skill with the sword had not dulled but increased. If Cai Hua were to learn of this, he would undoubtedly be very proud.

He had finally taken the step toward eternality and arrived before the last step.

Anyone should be, at this moment, be delighted beyond words, possibly to the point of tears, but Ovid was different. The same as when he had achieved preception, he was calm to the point of not resembling a person, but more akin to a rock, or a computer working in an algorithm.

This was because eternal life was never the end but rather the means. He had started this journey with the goal of studying the universe.

Following the blade cutting through the air, his face pale, and a single grunt could be heard.

The table was unharmed, but the paper on it scattered everywhere and the quill pen shot into the room like an arrow, it thudded when it hit against the wall.

Of course, with his sudden advancement, his strength had likewise increased. The gold nib of the quill pen had embedded itself deep in the wall like an actual arrow. It was more than enough to hurt his arm.

Ovid shook his head and turned around, preparing to bandage his arm and clean up the scattered paper.

He thought he should let instincts take over him less in the future.

He then noticed, his left arm was unharmed, not even the first layer of skin had been damaged.