One Rodrith was taken aback. With the help of the librarian, he struggled to sit up and glared at Estellae.

Estleia noticed Rodlis's reaction and questioned it.

"You look at me strangely, young mage. What do you see with your leaky pupils?"

"I see...... A man who doesn't age...... It will never be eroded by time. Rodrith said in pain.

"Of course, what do you think you'll see?" replied the librarian, gently lifting the angry young man back onto his pillow.

"The master is here to record the birth of the first man on Claes, and he will also record the death of the last man.

That's what Ghibli, the god of books, taught us. ”

"Is this true?" asked Rodelis hoarsely.

Estleia shrugged noncommittally. "My personal experience is nothing compared to the history of this world.

Say it, Rodrith of Verlo.

What do you want from me? I'm wasting my precious time writing history talking to you. ”

"I demand...... I beg ...... You can do me a favor. The words were barely squeezed out of Rodlis's body, and the blood was still on his mouth.

"My life...... In a few hours – it's over. Please let me ...... Take that time ...... Spend on ...... In the big library!"

Bei Chuan couldn't help but smack his tongue when he heard the young mage's excessive request.

The librarian looked at Estleia in fear, fearing that the non-negotiable refusal would make the young mage take his last breath.

A long silence passed, and in between there was the sound of Rodrith struggling to breathe.

The expression on Estella's face didn't change. In the end, he replied coldly.

"Do what you want. ”

Ignoring Beck's stunned expression, Estleia turned and walked to the door.

"Wait!" Rodrith struggled to squeeze out two words. He held out a trembling hand and watched as Estleia stopped.

"You asked me what I saw when I saw you. Now I ask you the same question.

I saw the look on your face as you bent over to look at me. You know me, you know me, but who am I? Who do you see?"

Estleia turned, the expression on her face as cold as granite.

"You said you saw a man who never grew old or died. The historian whispered to the mage.

After a moment's hesitation, he shrugged his shoulders again and turned around. "I saw a man who was going to die. ”

With that, he walked out the door.

Let's assume that you, who are reading this book, should have passed the test in the Tower of the Void Master.

It also shows your ability to control the Dragon God's Secret Treasure, or other certified magic items.

So you've proven yourself capable of casting those spells—"

"Yes, yes," Rodrith said to himself, darling quickly at the spider-like text on the book.

Impatiently skipping over the list of spells, he finally came to the conclusion part.

Complete the quiz requested by your supervisor. We give you this magic book.

With this key, you'll have access to our secrets—Rodrith let out a scream of rage, pushing aside the dark blue-covered, silver-lettered book.

His hands trembled, and he reached into the mountain of books beside him and pulled out another dark blue book. A cough forced him to stop what he was doing.

He struggled to get some fresh air, fearing that he wouldn't be able to continue.

The pain was almost unbearable.

There were times when he longed for it to end, so that he didn't have to endure it anymore, and that it would never end.

He lay groggily on the table, his head in his hands. Fall into a sweet, painless slumber.

The image of his brother appeared in his mind.

In the afterlife, Karamon waits to be reunited with his brother. Rodrith could see his brother's round eyes, and he could see the sympathy in them......

Rodrith took in as hard as he could, forcing himself to sit up. Reunite with Calamon.

I must have fainted, he said to himself. It's ridiculous!

Moistening his blood-stained lips with water, Rodrith picked up another magic book with a dark blue cover and pulled it over.

The silver magic symbol on it flickered in the candlelight, and its cover tentacles were cold, like all the spell rooms beside him.

Its cover and the spell book he already had, the native being who memorized every spell in his mind.

Once belonged to the greatest magicians, Shiloh Fisdar's magic book was identical.

Rodrith opened the cover with trembling hands.

His fanatical eyes scanned each page, and after reading the same preface, only extremely high-level mages had the ability and skill to learn the spells recorded herein.

Those who do not have the ability, but try to learn, will only see a mess of symbols on these papers.

Rodlis has met these requirements. He was probably the only one of Candela's red-robed or white-robed mages who could say that, and even the great Pasarian didn't have the qualifications.

But when Rodrith looked at the records in these books, they were nothing more than meaningless symbols.

With this key, you will have access to our secret, Rodrith screaming in anger, the faint sound quickly replaced by sobs.

In helpless anger and frustration, he lay on the table and swept all his books to the floor.

The spells that he couldn't use because of his weakness came back to his mind because of this powerful anger.

The librarians who walked by the door of the library heard the terrifying cry and exchanged frightened glances with each other.

Then they heard another voice. A thunderclap was followed by thunder.

The crowd looked at each other on alert.

One of them reached for it and tried to pull it open, but it was locked.

Then a man stretched out his hand and pointed ahead, and an eerie fire shone under the door, and everyone stepped back as if they had encountered a ghost.

The smell of sulfur filled the entire library, and was finally blown away by the fierce wind that nearly blew the door in half.

The librarians heard the terrible screams again, and they ran for their lives down the hallways, calling Estleia by name.

The historian arrives at the door and finds it magically locked.

He sighed resignedly, took out a small notebook from his pocket, found a chair to sit down, and began to write incessantly.

The librarians gathered around him in a panic, clearly listening to the strange noises coming from the library.

The rumbling of thunder shook the foundations of the library. The constant glow from under the door made it seem as if the inside of the library was not in the middle of the night, but in the middle of the day.

The shrill howling of the storm in the door combined with the mage's terrible shouts.

There were all kinds of noises inside, the sound of books turning in strong winds, and the rumbling of heavy objects falling. What's even more incredible is that there are tongues of fire spewing out from under the door.

"Master!" one of the librarians yelled in fear, pointing to the flames. "He's destroying those books!"

Estleia shook her head, not interrupting what she was doing.

Suddenly everything fell silent. The flickering light under the door seemed to be swallowed up by the darkness.

The librarians hesitantly approached, listening intently to what was going on inside.

I couldn't hear anything, only a slight cough. Bei Chuan gently put his hand on the door, and the door opened as soon as he pushed it.

"The door is open, master. He said.

Estleia stood up. "Go back to your rooms," he ordered the librarians.

"You can't help here. The staff bowed their heads in silence, gave one last frightened glance at the door, and quietly left the hallway, leaving Estleia alone.

He waited a few minutes to make sure they were all gone, and then slowly opened the door to the Great Library.

Silver and red moonlight poured in through the narrow windows.

Shelves neatly stocked with thousands of books stretch into the darkness. There are small holes in the walls where the scrolls are placed.

The moonlight shone on a table, which was obscured by paper.

In the center of the table was a candle, and next to it was a dark blue, open spell book, moonlit on its snow-white pages.

The other spellbooks were scattered all over the place.

Estleia looked around and frowned.

The walls were covered in black stains, and the room smelled of sulfur and fire.

The paper floated in the air, slowly descending like a fallen leaf onto a person lying on the ground.

As soon as Estleia walked in, she carefully closed and locked the door.

Then he walked over to the man who had fallen to the ground and stepped over the paper.

He didn't say anything, and he didn't bend down to help the young mage.

Just stood beside Rodlis, looking at him thoughtfully.

As he slowly approached, the robe brushed against Rodlis's metallic hand.

The mage immediately looked up.

Rodrith looked at him with a look that was under the threat of death—gradually dimming.

"Did you say you didn't find what you were looking for?" said Estleia looked down coldly at the mage.

"Key!" Rodelis's pale lips were stained with blood.

"Lost...... Nobody knows! Stupid!" he stretched out his claw-like hand, and the only spark of life in his body was anger.

"It's that easy! Everybody knows it...... No one recorded it, yes, the key!

...... I just need to ...... now Lost!"

"So this is the end of your journey, dear old friend. Estleia whispered, without a hint of sympathy.

Rhodelis was both annoyed and miserable, his physical condition was at the extreme, and he could not find what he was looking for in the books of the Great Library, which was the most painful thing for the magician.

"No way, the Dragon God's Secret Treasure told me that it must be somewhere. Rodlis thought reluctantly.