“Hello, nice to meet you.” I shook his hand, maintaining a polite smile. “I’m Karl. And yes, I am very interested in getting into the academy.”

“Ragnar,” he introduced himself with a courteous nod. “Runes Crafting and Potion Brewing professor at NorthStar Academy.” His tone was polished, his demeanor that of a refined scholar.

But the story his hands told was different. Numerous small scars lined his fingers and knuckles, betraying years of labor or conflict. When we shook hands, I felt a subtle yet sharp tingling sensation. His grip strength was absurd. Despite my refined body, his handshake carried a weight that wasn’t just physical.

“Come in, my boy. You don’t have to be shy,” the elder said warmly, gesturing for me to join them at the table.

As he settled back into his chair, a strange thought struck me, I didn’t even know the elder's name. Like everyone else my age, I’d simply called him “elder” for as long as I could remember.

Ragnar returned to his seat across from the elder, his composed demeanor unshaken. I followed their lead, shutting the door behind me. A wave of warmth washed over me. The difference in temperature between my house and this one was immediately noticeable, even though every fireplace in the village had the same basic design.

“Heat Rune?” I mumbled to myself, noticing faintly glowing circles etched on the wall. But as I focused on it, I corrected myself. “No, it’s Conservation Runes.”

Ragnar’s lips curled into a slight smile. “You’ve got a sharp eye. I wasn’t trying to hide it, but I’m impressed nonetheless.” He turned to the elder. “I understand why you were praising him so highly now. A rare talent indeed.”

Rare talent, huh? If only he knew how much trial, error, and centuries of hard work went into this "talent."

Runes existed in nearly every world I’d been through, so studying them wasn’t just useful — it was essential. Like martial arts, it was a skill I could rely on anywhere.

“Thank you, Professor,” I said with a politely. “A compliment from an established scholar like you means a lot.”

Let’s see if flattery works on this guy.

Ragnar raised an eyebrow, glancing briefly at the elder, who shrugged in response, before shifting his gaze back to me. “You’re much slyer than your father,” he remarked casually.

I paused for a fraction of a second, maintaining my smile while I processed his words. Father? That was unexpected.

Ok, that didn’t work. But at least I got some new information.

“You know my father, professor?” I asked.

“Yes, I know your parents,” Ragnar replied, his voice soft. “Xavi and Elena helped me a lot when I was young. I’m truly… in debt to them.” A fleeting emotion crossed his face — guilt.

That wasn’t suspicious at all and definitely didn’t scream, ‘I have something to do with your parents’ death.’

It didn’t take a genius to piece together two possible scenarios: either Ragnar was the one who killed them, or they died protecting him.

I had never met my parents. My only knowledge of them came from stories my elder sister told us. But now that the opportunity to learn more had presented itself, it was my duty to figure out what had truly happened to them.

One more objective related to this guy.

The elder sighed deeply. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, Ragnar. No one could have predicted a raid in the middle of the night.”

“But if I hadn’t been wounded, they wouldn’t have stayed behind to cover for me,” Ragnar said, his tone heavy with regret. His eyes closed briefly, and his hand clenched so tightly it turned pale.

So the official story is that this guy and my parents fought together, and they died protecting him. The guilt looks real, but I’ve been through too much to trust this at face value.

Ragnar seemed reluctant to linger on this topic, so he changed it.

Picking up my Recording Crystal, he held it up and examined it with a neutral expression. “With this invention alone, I can recommend you to be my assistant. If the council agrees, you’ll only have to pass a test to get accepted into the academy. How confident are you?”

“Very,” I answered quickly.

“Good.” Ragnar nodded before turning to the elder. “Would you mind if I test him a bit right now?”

“Not at all,” the elder replied with a dismissive wave.

Ragnar looked back at me, his sharp eyes scrutinizing me for a moment. “Then let’s test your knowledge. First question: what are Runes?”

Searching my brain for this world’s definition of Runes, I answered, “Runes are the core components of magic. We use Runes to communicate with the laws of the world. Through their composition, we create the magic we desire.”

“Good,” Ragnar nodded, a glint of approval in his eyes. “What is the relationship between Runes, Mana, and Skills?”

I paused, considering the best analogy.

Something like coding or using the internet would work in some worlds, but not here. Repeating what was written in books would be safe, but it wouldn’t impress someone like Ragnar, especially since I was aiming to become an assistant professor. I needed something that would stand out, something relatable.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Forging came to mind, so I went with that.

“If a Skill is a sword, then Runes are the steel and Mana is the hammer. We gather Runes to form a basic 'shape’ of the sword, then use Mana to hammer out the details. The better our control over Runes is, the better the purity of the steel. The better our control over Mana is, the higher the quality of the sword.”

“What about a Skill’s level?” he asked, leaning forward with interest.

“It’s just how good we are at swinging the sword,” I shrugged casually.

“Oh?” Ragnar raised an eyebrow. “I won’t understand if you don’t explain it in detail.”

“We can still swing an incomplete sword, but it will break and cause undesirable consequences. With a well-crafted sword, the more we practice and improve, the more we understand both swordsmanship and the sword itself. Its weight, its length, its toughness, where’s the best place to hold it, what’s the best way to cut, and when’s the best time to stab. Everything.”

Ragnar clapped, a genuine smile on his face. “Good, very good. You understand it well enough to make that kind of comparison. Most students I ask just repeat what’s written in books.”

“I’m confident in my knowledge,” I said shamelessly, grinning as if I hadn’t spent centuries refining it in countless worlds.

"Confidence is good, just don’t be too confident. That will turn into ignorance, arrogance, or recklessness quicker than you think," Ragnar reminded, his tone firm.

“I’m well aware, professor,” I acknowledged his advice with sincerity.

Ragnar seemed satisfied as he shifted the discussion. “Do you plan on mass-producing these?” He tapped on the Recording Crystal resting on the table.

“Yes, I’ve already crafted a few for the village. When the opportunity arises, I plan to collaborate with a workshop in NorthStar for larger-scale production,” I replied.

The Recording Crystal was more than a simple invention. It was the cornerstone of solving our village’s honey dilemma and, potentially, a cultural revolution. With improvements, this crystal could evolve into an MP3 player capable of storing and playing songs, starting with Sera’s singing. The fact that her voice retained its effect even when played through the crystal was a game-changer. Something like that would undoubtedly sell.

But this wasn’t just about sales. The bigger vision was clearly creating an organization to streamline this process. An agency? A studio? How I call it didn’t matter. What mattered was turning this idea into reality.

To achieve this, I needed a significant amount of funding. My cheat-like [Full body restoration] was going to end soon, so exhausting myself day and night to produce crystals wasn’t a sustainable option.

Thankfully, the previous Karl had left me something — a prototype invention with the potential to generate massive wealth. It wasn’t complete, but I knew it had the potential to reshape everything.

Completing that invention was my next goal, the first crucial step in my master plan to fund my studio and spread culture far and wide through Recording Crystals.

Afterward some more questions regarding the Recording Crystal, we chatted more about Runes, Skills, Classes, and their applications.

It was fascinating to compare how different worlds utilized Runes.

For instance, in this world, crafting Runes was considered a foundational step toward creating Skills. However, Ragnar lamented how the abundance of pre-made Skills available in NorthStar Academy had led the younger generation to neglect the fundamentals of Runes Crafting. This oversight often left them struggling when it came to creating their own Skills.

“That’s something I never thought of,” Ragnar said, his eyes gleaming with interest after I suggested a different way to use Runes. “Do you mind if I submit this as new research and add you as the co-author?”

“Not at all, professor. Please feel free to do so,” I replied with a polite smile.

Operation: "Getting on Ragnar’s good side to dig into his secrets" was officially a go.

“I’ll submit my recommendation for you to the council once I return to the academy,” Ragnar said. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to contact me.”

“How can I contact you, professor? I can’t exactly charge into the academy whenever I feel like it,” I said.

“Take this.” Ragnar handed me a silver whistle about the size of a pen. “Once you arrive in NorthStar, blow this whistle when you need to reach me. An owl will come to you. Tie your letter to its leg. It will know where to go.”

Using owls as a delivery service? It sounded oddly similar to a certain magic school story about a boy with a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead.

I’d never understood why they used owls in that world when they had teleportation. Freaking teleportation. But it seemed like using animals for letter delivery was a thing in this world too, as our village communicated with the Frost Elf through delivery huskies.

I pocketed the whistle. “Thank you for your generosity, professor.”

“It’s nothing compared to what your parents did for me,” Ragnar said, his voice tinged with a quiet sadness.

With this, I bagged the backing of someone with influence in NorthStar. Though I still harbored doubts about Ragnar, refusing a potential ally would have been foolish. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

Since the surprising development was done, it was time to return to my initial goal. I needed answers.

“This is rude of me to interrupt your conversation, but I have something I want to ask the elder,” I said. Sometimes, being thick-skinned was the only way to get what you wanted, and my skin was thicker than an elephant's — quadruple, at least.

“I was about to wrap up our conversation when you arrived, so feel free,” Ragnar said, gesturing for me to proceed.

“What is it, my boy?” the elder asked.

“Do you have any stories about the Guardians? The more, the better.”

The elder paused, scratching his chin as he thought. “I have one.”

He stood up and shuffled into one of the closed rooms. A few moments later, he returned with a small book no thicker than one-fifth of a pinky. Its cover was worn and dusty, the letters and colors faded almost beyond recognition.

“Here you go, legends about the Guardians,” he handled me the book.

“Thank you. I’ll return it after I finish reading,” I said, taking it.

“Just keep it. My children are already too old for fairy tales, and I don’t need it either. It’ll be better used if it helps you with this crystal project or whatever you’re working on.” The elder chuckled as he sat back down.

His words struck me like lightning.

He was right. Why was I limiting the concept of culture to just songs and movies? Reading was also culture. So were eating, drinking, dancing, and countless activities that shaped society.

This wasn’t just about the quest condition anymore. I needed to broaden my vision. Culture was the foundation of harmony, and that foundation was far more expansive than I had initially considered.

The recorded songs in the Recording Crystals triggered Harmony. Wouldn't that mean other cultural expressions like movies, food, drinks, card games, and maybe even a theme park could do the same? Hell, even streaming was a type of culture for netizens. Creating an internet infrastructure in this world... The difficulty would be off the charts, but it wasn’t impossible.

The possibilities were endless.

Thinking about it in this way got me excited. I had been trying to brute force and cheat through obstacles for so long that I had forgotten what it felt like to enjoy something.

“Thank you, elder,” I said earnestly. Nothing more needed to be said. The only thing left was to take action.

“Don’t mention it.” The elder waved me off with a warm smile. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

“It’s still afternoon,” I pointed out with a squint.

The elder let out a cheeky laugh. “Someone needs to do the cooking. And I’m feeling a bit lazy today. Can’t you help a poor old man out?”

“I’ll help a poor old man out when I see one,” I shot back with a grin. “Goodbye, professor. Goodbye, elder.”

The burning desire to plan my next moves was bubbling inside me, making it impossible to sit still. With that, I bid them farewell and went home.

They waved at me and resumed their conversation as I left the house. Needless to say, it had been a good harvest of ideas and opportunities.

My time in this world was going to be very interesting.