"It's even brighter than the burrow-city I live in. This is the first time I've been to a place so radiant and beautiful," a middle-aged apprentice remarked nearby, his voice filled with awe.

  A few wild wizard apprentices huddled together for a whispered conversation before setting off as a group into the distance. Everyone was buzzing with excitement over this enigmatic city—at least for the time being.

  Tars looked at Bahunt. Bahunt caught his gaze, gave a brief nod, and turned to walk away. Tars chuckled and followed him with practiced thick-skinned persistence.

  "Ah! Manson? Manson! I just took two steps and solved a problem I’ve been stuck on! This place is terrifying—shouldn't we leave?" an apprentice cried out in sudden panic nearby, calling for his companion.

  Those within earshot slowed their pace. Even Bahunt stopped to watch.

  "You idiot, that's just a calculation you've been working on every day. You happened to figure it out here, that's all."

  "But those terrifying things from the Knowledge World... they say they can really make a head burst..."

  "Relax. Knowledge doesn't go looking for morons."

  The two apprentices continued their bickering in low voices as they drifted away.

  Tars turned back only to find Bahunt had already gained some distance. He scurried to catch up; until he could get a better grasp of the situation, he intended to stick close to the big man.

  The city's architecture was composed entirely of white stone—walls, pillars, and roofs alike—giving it an incredibly clean and orderly appearance. Many of the pillars were adorned with carvings, some exquisite and others rugged. The only unsettling part was that the bustling crowds he had seen from afar had vanished; as they drew closer, the streets proved to be utterly empty.

  As they passed a steeple-roofed house, Tars leaned down and touched a step in front of the door. There wasn't a speck of dust on it. He poked and prodded at things with curiosity, though he didn't dare do anything truly out of line.

  Bahunt moved with purpose, as if he had a specific destination in mind. This pleased Tars; it meant Bahunt knew something about this place, or at least a part of it.

  The sound of an argument drifted from around a corner. When they turned the bend, they saw only a single apprentice with rugged features. His voice rose and fell sharply, as if he were debating with the empty air.

  Sensing Tars's confusion, Bahunt spoke slowly. "First: do not let your mind wander. Do not ponder difficult problems in this place. Every person has a limit to what they can endure. Save your mental energy for things of true value... though that is only one possibility."

  Suddenly, the lone apprentice began waving his arms frantically before reaching up to squeeze his own throat in a fit of rage. A blinding light erupted from him alongside a guttural roar. When the light faded and silence returned, only a square black object remained on the ground.

  "He is dead."

  Bahunt walked over and, under Tars's shocked gaze, picked up a book from the ground. The big man studied it, letting out a heavy sigh.

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  "This book is his legacy. He was merely the catalyst. The content of the book isn't necessarily about him; it's a creation born from the intersection of his power level, the unique energy of this city, the gifts of the Knowledge World, and perhaps even his final thoughts. It is a book generated by a series of coincidences."

  Bahunt tucked the book away. It appeared to be a spellbook.

  "These warnings serve as payment for you retrieving my staff. Do not follow me any further; I have things I must do," Bahunt said, turning to leave.

  If there's one book, there's bound to be a second, Tars thought.

  "Are you looking for that friend named Karyu? Do you suspect he might not be dead?" Tars blurted out a topic to stall him. "Tell me what he looks like. I'll be wandering all over the city; I can keep an eye out for you."

  Bahunt paused. "Watch yourself while wandering. Do not enter the houses in this city without reason."

  He tossed a scroll toward Tars. It was clearly just a scrap of paper grabbed at random, as there were experimental notes on the back. Tars unrolled it. With just a few strokes, a face had been sketched with startling spirit and detail.

  Tars's breath hitched for a second before he steadied himself. "Wow, your drawing skills are incredible," he said.

  Bahunt looked at him. "That fellow is obsessed with his appearance. Despite his age, he keeps his face looking very young. But he is cunning. If he's alive, he'll definitely change his looks to blend in here."

  In other words, he doesn't expect much from me, Tars realized.

  "Take this. If you actually see him, throw it. I will come," Bahunt said, handing over a small sphere no larger than a fingernail.

  Tars nodded vigorously, pocketed the sphere, and watched the big man's silhouette fade into the distance. Once he was certain he was alone, he hurriedly reopened the sketch. One look was all it took to confirm it: this was the half-man.

  But so many things didn't make sense.

  He chose not to obsess over the mystery for now. Instead, he found a secluded corner to see if he could open his Abyssal Bedroom space. His previous experiences had left him with a bit of "psychological trauma," and this city was a peculiar place.

  He focused on the thought of the door. As the spatial portal began to manifest, he felt a wave of resistance. Fortunately, it was only resistance. After a bit of effort, the door failed to open fully—but it wasn't a total failure. A crack stabilized, just wide enough for someone of his height to slip in sideways. It was perfect.

  With his safety net secured, Tars began his exploration.

  His wandering wasn't aimless. He tried to recall the corner where he had seen the little crybaby insectoid disappear, matching the surrounding buildings to his memory. Since he had an acquaintance here, he felt he ought to pay a visit. The little creature seemed to be a key to this city; its presence here was clearly significant. Besides, since the creature's sibling was still in his possession, he felt a natural duty to check in—they were practically family, after all.

  As he walked, his mind drifted back to the half-man. Thinking about this shouldn't bring any danger, right? he wondered.

  The half-man's actions were entirely unlike those of a wizard apprentice. The things he did weren't things an apprentice should be capable of—and Bahunt had explicitly stated that an apprentice couldn't erase the imprints on another's storage bag.

  If the half-man was Karyu, then how was he so easily defeated by Bahunt? What was the deal with that illusory, ghostly state? And that face where the features barely moved? Even when split in two, it seemed as if both halves had their own independent consciousness.

  If the half-man appeared before him right now, Tars wouldn't be able to stop himself from asking if he was Karyu.

  Wait. Tars suddenly realized it would be best if the half-man never appeared before him—at least not while they were inside this city.

  Lost in thought, he navigated through several more streets. A large, tiered fountain appeared before him. Crystal-clear water cascaded from the highest level, sequentially filling fan-shaped pools arranged like a staircase. The water trickled endlessly, as if the source were infinite. A dozen or so wizard apprentices had already gathered around the pools.

  Tars walked over, looking up toward the highest point. Beyond the top of the fountain stood a massive, palace-like structure. He looked around and noticed an interesting phenomenon: several apprentices had stepped into the water and were sitting with joyful expressions, apparently meditating. The pools had over twenty tiers. Most of those in the third tier and above were wild wizards, while the self-important types mostly sat cross-legged in the first or second tiers.

  Tars ventured a bold guess: many of these fellows were likely low-level apprentices just like him.