CHAPTER 163: CHAPTER 163 | THE GRAND ARCHIVE

"Ah! Welcome, Master Jinn!" a younger looking eidric hurried toward him, his dark robes swaying near his legs as he approached Jinn with a nervous yet excited energy.

As he neared, his glasses caught the light from the floating eidric lamps overhead which caused a brief glint before he lowered his head in a polite bow that showed genuine respect toward Jinn.

"I have already been informed of your arrival by Elder Berazith...! It is a great honor to escort you, Scion. Please, allow me to lead you to the Grand Archive."

Jinn returned a small nod, simple but firm enough to show the eidric acknowledgement to which made the young edric quickly turn to his heel.

The eidric then began to guide Jinn towards a sealed door located at the far end of the massive chamber they were in, a humongous door reinforced with layered kritonium plating and inscribed rings that pulsed faintly with soft black eidra.

During the walk towards the door, Jinn’s eye wandered across the large open space, catching sight of rows of scholars and students wandering around the area. Young faces—focused, tired, curious—lifted slightly whenever they caught a glimpse of Jinn as he walked by.

Noticing them, these students seemed to be close to Jinn’s age, all dressed in the soft dark red uniforms with golden ornate designs

Many of them looked like they came from noble families,

Which made sense,

Based on their uniforms, they belonged to the prestigious Threia Academy—an institution where every noble house within Zerafhon sent their children so they could discover their eidra nature... to find out if they were destined to become either an eidric or an eidrakai.

Jinn couldn’t help but wander, yet again, what it might have felt like to study in an academy like this... surrounded by teachers, knowledge, and structure instead of chains and orders.

Of course he never had that chance.

When he was younger, he was nothing but an orphan—an acting leader of a group of children that relied on him and each other. Then he became a slave after his home was ravaged by the empire, forcing him and his friends to participate in the damned Slave Rituals of House Sorellia—a stage of both blood and death.

"Nevi..." he muttered under his voice, still remembering Nevi’s voice and her stories. The way she smiled, the way she relied on Jinn at the last moment, and the way she pathetically died.

He remembered the puddle of blood that soaked her entire body as she laid down in the middle of the torn street, lifeless.

Jinn remembered it all... something he refused to forget.

And now, after everything, even though he had risen through that hell, a part of him still felt the hollow space where a childhood should have been.

But he also knew that despite all of that, he had been fortunate in one way or another.

The rest of his friends survived and were able to escape the empire entirely in exchange for him being left behind.

And in the case of Jinn, he had significantly become even more powerful in the mentorship of both Venedix and Troy’s teachings.

Why would he need to be envious of others?

Why would he even need to enter the Threia academy when all his knowledge about both eidra and the empire itself came from Troy—Zerafhon’s own prodigy from House Nythrael?

Why would he need to practice and hone himself as an eidrakai when he is the sole apprentice and scion of Venedix, the blade of the empire?

Troy had taught him how to be a student.

And Venedix taught him not only to be a soldier—but to be peerless and unmatched.

And for Jinn, those alone were more valuable than any uniform or an academy could even offer.

With these thoughts lingering quietly in his mind, he continued following the young eidric toward the sealers, ready to take his next step into the heart of the Grand Archive.

After moments of drifting too deep into his own thoughts, Jinn finally realized he had arrived at the towering sealed doors. His lone eye lifted slowly, studying the structure in front of him with a mix of focus and curiosity.

The frame of the doors was wrapped in spinning kritonium sigils, each rotating in a measured pattern that gave off soft pulsations of dark blue eidric light.

Etched along the surface were five massive cylindrical column—thick, heavy pieces of kritonium infused with ancient runes, each one acting as a bar that locked the archive from the rest of the tower.

The column hummed faintly, like they were alive, breathing, as if waiting for something to activate their runes.

After shifting his gaze downward, to the right of the door, Jinn noticed a familiar device.

Another activation panel similar to the one he had used earlier to unlock the portal. Only this time, the panel had two hollow slots carved into it, shaped perfectly for the insertion of crystals.

The young eidric accompanying him didn’t hesitate.

He stepped forward with calm confidence and placed his own crystal into the rightmost slot of the panel.

*whirrr....

The panel responded instantly due to the insertion of one crystal, glowing brighter—but its glow was dim, as if something was missing.

The eidric then turned towards Jinn before giving a small courteous nod.

"If you may," he said gently, urging Jinn to insert the second crystal, the one Elder Berezith had entrusted to him.

Jinn then stepped closer, raising his synthetic arm slightly as he pushed the crystal into the hollow spot of the panel.

*click!

*whirrrrrrrrr!!!

The moment it clicked into place, the entire mechanism finally came alive.

A deep hum vibrated through the floor and the runes on each cylindrical column lit up in sequence—fire one, the another... and another... then the next, until all five were shining with steady, powerful light.

*grrrrrrrr....

Slowly, with a heavy grinding sound, the giant column slid to the left, unlocking the sealed door one by one.

For the final step, the young eidric lifted his hand and channeled a thin sliver of dark eidra—the pure essence tied to House Nythrael.

The subtle streak of eidra energy drifted toward the panel like a strand of shadowy smoke, sinking into the surface before the door in front of them responded with a low and resonating whiir, as if recognizing the essence.

And then, in full view of everyone in the hall, the sealed door parted and open. A soft cool breeze brushed toward Jinn as the Grand Archive unveiled itself.

Students, guests, and scholars nearby paused their work, shifting their necks to get even the smallest glimpse of what was inside the Grand Archive.

Most of them would never ever be allowed in such a place.

To simply see the interior with their own eyes was already a rare privilege.

"What a marvel..." one whispered, unable to hide their awe as their eyes widened.

"So that is the Grand Archive... a sea of knowledge... forbidden, rare, and ancient..." murmured another.

Through the opening, rows upon rows of knowledge stretched endlessly—towering shelves packed with ancient books, weathered scrolls, glowing crystals, sealed tomes, and parchments collected from every corner of the empire since its first founding.

The air inside seemed heavier, thicker, as if layered with centuries of wisdom and secrets that should never be spoken aloud.

"Welcome to the Grand Archive, Master Jinn," the yung eidric said with another polite bow, his voice filled with both pride and respect.

"You may enter as you see fit. I will seal the door behind you—when you are finished, simply activate the mechanism inside and a portal will appear before you that will transport... here, outside."

He then handed Jinn his crystal back, placing it carefully in his palm,

Jinn then slipped the crystal into the inner pocket of his cloak before giving the young eidric a small and subtle nod, before stepping forward and crossing the threshold into the Grand Archive.

The moment his boots touched the polished floor inside, two towering golden sentinels activated beside the doorway. Their massive frames, shaped like armored giants, stood perfectly still but radiated an intimidating force,

Their eyes glowed faintly, tracking movement with cold precision.

These were not ornamental statues, they were guardians built to crush anyone foolish enough to force their entry.

A single wrong move from an intruder would end in an instant, and Jinn knew it as the armies of Zerafhon had used these very same war machines in close quarter combat—wreaking havoc against enemy infantry.

Though, for Jinn, he would easily dispatch such constructs.

As he continued farther in, the heavy doors behind him began closing again, the mechanism whirring and clanking in a complex rhythmic sound. One by one, the giant cylindrical locks slid back into place, sealing him inside with a firm and final thud.

Jinn glanced back over his shoulder for a moment, watching the last sliver of light disappear as the doors shut completely.

Then he turned his eye forward—toward the vast and almost overwhelming sight in front of him.

A sea of shelves stretched far beyond what he could see.

No... not just a sea, but an entire world built from countless rows of books, scrolls, glowing tablets, and preserved parchments.

The shelves rose so high that the upper levels vanished into a soft mist hanging near the ceiling.

Bridges, floating platforms, and rotating lifts connected different sections of the archive, moving slowly like drifting islands.

The size alone felt almost hostile, as if daring him to try to understand even a fraction of the knowledge stored here.

Even after everything he had seen as a soldier and an eidrakai, the Grand Archive still had a way of making him... feel small.

But he didn’t step back.

He had come for a reason.

A goal.

And that goal was simple: find anything that mentioned Muradryn.

And after that... wait.

Waste time until someone informed him that Troy had returned to the tower.