The Sorcerer's Handbook

Chapter 260: Legendary Library

Despite not having the clever Swordswoman with them, the two sorcerers quickly figured out how to use the library. The clue could not have been more obvious.

On the very first shelf before them rested a single book, glowing with a vivid green light, as if it were calling out, ”Read me! Read me!”

[Legendary Library Guide]

Congratulations to every sorcerer who steps into this library. Fortune favors you beyond measure. Your story will echo across thousands. You are light. You are lightning. You are the myth yet to be written.

The Dramatic Poet built this library. Remember his name, for he is the narrator of fate, the master of contradictions, the orchestrator of countless joys and sorrows, and the witness to the world’s separations and reunions.

Millions of sorcerers in the Virtual World together could not match even a fraction of him.

Yet in his generosity, he created the Legendary Library for future generations, offering fragments of his glory to any fortunate visitor.

To use this library, you must follow these rules:

① Apart from this guide, each person may read only one book. Rarity adds value.

② You may not retrace your steps; life allows no return.

③ The library has four floors, and the higher you go, the greater the treasures. As the saying goes, ”Always strive to reach greater heights.”

④ Books may deceive. Trust with caution.

⑤ The library follows the principle of equivalent exchange. To gain knowledge, each sorcerer must leave behind a memory. Choose carefully.

Whenever you read a book, you have a chance to gain any reward it contains, including, but not limited to, spirits, miracles, treasures, or special abilities. For example, if a divine spirit appears in the book, it’s entirely possible for you to obtain it.

There are no requirements for what memory you leave behind. This library spans millennia. Even your most precious memory may remain undiscovered for countless generations. So try to leave your most remarkable memories; if everyone were selfish, you’d likely only ever see boring ones.

To leave a memory, press any empty space on the bookshelf.

To exit, finish reading, and leave your memory. You will be returned to the entrance automatically.

The Legendary Library!

The term hadn’t rung a bell for Ashe and Dia. Fortunately, the guide explained everything clearly. In essence, what they would do was choose a book, read it, and gain whatever lay within. Then they would leave a memory to complete the exchange.

Dia frowned slightly. ”Why is the builder’s name replaced with dots? Could his name really be... that?”

Ashe responded, ”Either he thought leaving his name was inappropriate and erased it himself, or someone else erased it for him. Either way, the Dramatic Poet’s real name has been completely wiped.”

Dia murmured, ”The power to erase a name... what kind of Divine Lord did he offend to deserve that?”

”Probably all of them,” Ashe replied, glancing again at the line. ”Millions of sorcerers in the Virtual World together could not match even a fraction of him.”

He had a vague feeling that, even if the Dramatic Poet had never intended to dig his own grave, he had indirectly dug one for himself.

How arrogant. If I were a god, I’d punish you just for not wearing a hat.

Clearly, the two junior sorcerers were not in the least concerned about the builder’s fate. They turned their attention to the bookshelves, exchanging a glance.

”Together?”

”Let’s go!”

With that, Ashe and Dia eagerly stepped into the library. Sorcerers could never resist places like this. To them, these hard-to-come-by, harmless structures in the Virtual World were like a delicacy to a starving fly.

As they moved through the maze, they quickly grasped what the guide meant by ”books may deceive.” Every item thrummed with a strange, overwhelming energy that defied comprehension. A scroll glimmered with runes that seemed to glow with their own life. A fragment of aged parchment bore the weight of countless untold stories. Even a small, USB-like device crackled with restless electricity. Each object made its presence known so vividly that passing it felt like brushing against a living force.

The bound books were even more extraordinary. One resembled the journal of a monarch that ruled over death itself. Another looked like the spellbook of a sovereign of time. There was even one with a pin-up of a beautiful woman on the cover.

Ashe thought, The woman doesn’t even have a single pair of lingerie stockings... and it actually expects me to fall for this? How insulting!

The second floor offered even greater variety. Crystal balls, hanging paintings, cards, books bound in human skin, anything capable of storing information had been turned into a ”book” within the Legendary Library.

Here, the challenge deepened. The items’ allure grew stronger, and the energy they emitted began to subtly twist reality.

One book gave off a faint, pink-tinged fragrance. Judging by the strands of hair, it seemed bound in the skin of a veela. Even from a distance, the scent stirred strange thoughts in their minds. Ashe and Dia found it difficult to simply walk past.

Elsewhere, a crystal skull glowed with an eerie green light, exuding the stench of decay. Passing it without protection would be like bathing in the River of Flowing Gold, tasting the frailty of old age long before it was meant to come.

With no way to retrace their steps, they had no choice but to proceed carefully, searching for a safe path to the third floor.

Then, without warning, Ashe stopped.

”What’s wrong?” Dia asked.

”I’ve found the book I want. You go on to the third floor.”

Dia frowned. ”But this is only the second floor. The best books are on the fourth.”

Ashe reached for a book on the nearby shelf. ”I just know I want this one.”

His action left no room for argument. Dia hesitated, then let out a quiet sigh. Seeing his determination, she said nothing more and made her way to the third floor alone.

Leaning against the bookshelf, Ashe held the book in his hands. He hadn’t settled for any of the dramatic volumes, filled with either apocalyptic thunder and death or the chronicles of the world’s rise and fall. Instead, he picked a plain and unremarkable one, all for one simple reason. He could hear the sound of hammering coming from within.

It was the same sound his father made every Saturday morning at exactly 7:30.

Ashe did not consider himself sentimental. Nearly a month had passed since he transmigrated into this world, and his former life already felt like a distant memory, as if it belonged to someone else. In truth, it did.

He never allowed himself to dwell on what his disappearance meant for his family. That path led nowhere good. It was a mire that dragged him down and filled his chest with suffocating grief until he could hardly breathe.

And yet, the sound of clashing steel stirred something warm within him. It was a faint, fleeting sense of longing. For that alone, the book was worth reading. It answered the homesickness that had quietly taken root during his time in this unfamiliar world.

More importantly, Ashe did not care what book he chose.

According to the guide, the rewards from the books were entirely random. A lucky reader might gain a rare spirit, while an unlucky one could end up with something as trivial as a nail clipper. And if the author happened to be crude or vulgar, anything at all could appear.

Ashe had never believed himself to be particularly lucky.