Ludger instinctively prepared to fight.
Considering everything Dreamland had shown them so far, that black mud was highly likely to be something dangerous.
Strike before being struck.
In the current situation, there was no better course of action.
But before Ludger could act, Zantman raised his hand to stop him.
“Calm yourself, Teacher.”
“......”
Ludger stared at him.
There was no real sense of danger on Zantman’s face.
If someone with knowledge of this place reacted that way, then it meant the black mud was not as threatening as it looked.
Ludger lowered his guard, though he did not relax completely.
“What exactly is that?”
“It is a collection of information that exists here. They call it a ‘Librarian.’”
“A Librarian?”
Even before the words had finished leaving his lips, the mud spread across the floor suddenly rose.
“Eeek!”
Sedina let out an involuntary shriek.
The sticky, black sludge expanded to nearly two meters in height.
Its body was blunt and streamlined, its arms like small wings. Across its dark frame, golden circuits gleamed like etched patterns.
The overall shape resembled a penguin. Even the way it waddled when it moved was just like one.
Except, where its head should have been, there was no beak—only a round golden hole.
That appearance gave off an oddly dopey cuteness.
Even Sedina, startled at first, relaxed once she saw it looked more like a mascot doll than a monster.
“As you see, these are information clusters dwelling in the lower middle layer of Dreamland. They are not threatening at all.”
“Then what exactly does this Librarian do here?”
“What do Librarians do? Guard the library, of course.”
“This place?”
“The lower part of the middle layer of Dreamland. The final world before descending into the Depths. This is the Dream Library, [Sanctus Bibliotheca].”
Interpreted, that meant the Holy Library.
Ludger took in the scenery again.
This place, filled from end to end with shelves and books, was larger than any library he had ever seen.
It would not be an exaggeration to say its end could not be seen.
The floor shimmered with starlight, as if the Milky Way itself had been laid down beneath their feet, while from the ceiling poured a gentle sunlight.
Day and night coexisted here—
A library existing somewhere between the two.
“This is a place built from the piling up of people’s dreams. If you think about why Dreamland exists, then every book on these shelves is someone’s memory and dream.”
“And there are this many?”
“It has existed alongside human history itself.”
Then wasn’t this the very treasury of knowledge?
Surely even the oldest and long-lost knowledge of countless magics would be enshrined here.
Sedina, too, could not help but feel inspired as a mage. Her curiosity was aflame.
“Don’t even think about it.”
As if expecting it, Zantman stopped her.
“My advice: do not touch these books. No—more than advice, I say outright that you must not.”
“W-Why? If you think about the knowledge here...”
Sedina asked timidly.
Ludger did not speak, but he too was shocked at the existence of such a place—and tempted.
‘If this is a place where all past memories are recorded, perhaps I could find a way to cure Rine’s incurable illness.’
For now, he depended on the black mage’s curse as an explanation, but even that was uncertain.
And yet here was a place storing all knowledge and records of the past.
Of course Ludger was drawn to it.
Not just for Rine’s cure.
There were countless other mysteries of the world that mages had yet to solve.
Could not their origins be uncovered here?
A value impossible to measure in gold.
Even someone who wasn’t a mage could recognize how invaluable this place was.
But that was exactly why Ludger restrained his desire.
The deeper one went into Dreamland, the more unbearable its difficulty became for human consciousness.
And now, out of nowhere, a library appeared where one could supposedly read all knowledge of the world?
“There must be conditions to view the books here.”
“Heh.”
Zantman let ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ out a laugh of admiration at Ludger’s answer.
Most people, faced with such a sight, would be so distracted by what was before their eyes that they would overlook the essential truth.
Even among Dreamwalkers, who trained their minds to withstand Dreamland’s illusions, many had been seduced when they came before this Holy Library.
But not Ludger.
Of course, he was human, and so not entirely immune to temptation.
But he cut it off sharply with a blade of reason honed like steel.
And that was no easy feat—something Zantman knew better than anyone, for he still remembered the first time he had come here.
“You astonish me, Teacher. Perhaps the Master truly did have an eye for people.”
“What’s with the sudden praise?”
“Is it wrong to call great what is great? Returning to what you said—you are correct. To read the books here, there are indeed conditions.”
“And those conditions must be quite severe.”
“Severe?”
At that word, Zantman smirked.
Even the word “severe” was nowhere near enough.
“These are books, yet not books. They are memories. Knowledge, experiences, recollections gathered and molded into this form inside dreams. Why exactly they chose the form of books, who knows. But that isn’t the point.”
His eyes, fixed on the shelves, carried a wary glint.
“Think. What must you give up to gain knowledge that isn’t yours? Dreamland never bestows favors. It suppresses, devours. Even when it gives, it takes something equal in return. This is a world both dreamlike and cruel.”
Hans, who had been listening quietly, spoke up.
“Then... does that mean to gain knowledge, you must give up other knowledge?”
“Something like that. But would mere knowledge be enough? Did I not say these contain experience and memory as well?”
“That means...”
“To gain something, you must lose something. Each book holds the entirety of one person’s life—knowledge, experiences, memories. If you read it all, what do you think would happen?”
“...You’d have to forfeit your own entire life.”
“Precisely.”
Zantman nodded.
Knowledge for knowledge.
Memory for memory.
Experience for experience.
The exchange was exact, like a scale.
Finish reading one book, and you would disappear, replaced by the existence bound within that book.
“So basically, memory overlay?”
That was Seridan’s take after grasping the situation.
And Zantman did not deny it.
One’s self would vanish, and the memories within the book would claim the empty vessel.
Then who was that, exactly?
The book’s owner? Or the reader?
“If the memories are altered while the body and soul remain intact, what do you think happens? Even forcing a soul into a dead body creates massive resistance. But if the soul and body remain untouched, and only the foundation of memory is completely erased—”
“A rather complex, ambiguous case. If the soul and body remain the same, why is it a problem for only the memories to change?”
“There is a person A. He reads a book containing the memories of a person B. Then A’s memories vanish, and B’s memories are engraved in their place. Who, then, is that person—A or B?”
It was a deeply tangled question.
The body belonged to A.
The soul belonged to A.
But the memories belonged to B.
That was different from A simply losing his memories and going on to live a new life, piling up fresh experiences.
A man with amnesia who lives on is still living his own life.
But if all of one’s past is erased and replaced with another’s memories, wholly unfamiliar—
Who is that, really?
No, more than that—could such a person even remain intact?
“So you’ve finally realized.”
Seeing Ludger’s grim face, Zantman sighed as if lamenting.
“I couldn’t believe it at first, either. But when a companion of mine once gave in to temptation, opened a book, and what became of him—I only understood then how dire it was.”
“That person, he read the entire book?”
“Half of it. But even with only half of those memories, he went mad. Memories not his own. Not mere information, but things flooding in as if he had truly lived them himself.”
Even joyous or pleasant memories, if not your own, create a dissonance so sharp it unravels the mind.
But terrible, painful, regretful memories?
So vivid they feel like one’s own experiences, even when they are not.
There is such a thing as empathic pain—suffering simply by watching another’s suffering.
But what happens when those memories truly pour into you?
“The human mind is weak. Even Dreamwalkers who trained their minds far beyond ordinary mages went mad from only half of someone else’s memories. Do these books tempt you? They tempted me, too, the first time I came here. But no longer.”
Zantman’s voice trembled.
“This place frightens me more than anything. Because it is overflowing with allure and beauty—and yet one must not touch it. Because even while I know I must not, some corner of me still twitches with the desire to open them.”
At that, a thought flashed through Ludger’s mind.
The most dangerous temptations do not reach out from the dark, filthy depths.
They gleam with light, descend from the heavens in perfect harmony—offered like divine mercy.
“Let us pass through. There is nothing for us to gain here.”
But just as Zantman urged them forward—
“Since you’ve come this far, why not stay a little longer?”
A sudden intruder’s voice rang out, and everyone turned their eyes.
Between the shelves and tables, a path had opened.
There stood a gaunt, towering old man with his hands clasped behind his back.
Golden light glimmered faintly at the edges of his slanted eyes, like the curve of a crescent moon hanging in the night sky.
* * *
Rine clicked her tongue at the chaotic, twisted layout of the sky-islands.
At first she had resolved to simply stay put and wait, but seeing the giant eels shifting overhead changed her mind.
The further down she went, the stronger the unease gnawed at her.
Her eyes throbbed, as though the world itself was warning her of danger.
Still, it wasn’t unbearable yet. Whether because the threat wasn’t at full severity, or for some other reason, she didn’t know.
‘If I were alone, I wouldn’t even have the leisure to think like this.’
She glanced at the people moving with her.
Though separated from Erendir, she was not alone.
At her side was someone more reassuring than anyone else in this place.
“Rine. Are you alright?”
She nodded at Freuden Ulburk’s worried gaze.
“Yes. I’m perfectly fine!”
She even flexed her arm as if to boast of her biceps—though all that could be seen under her uniform was smooth, slender skin without a trace of muscle.
Watching through his narrow eyes, Freuden’s close friend Henry Presto shook his head.
‘Freuden, if only you showed that gentleness more often.’
It wasn’t just the two of them here.
Other second-year students, Henry among them, were present as well.
Normally Freuden would have projected charisma and led the group.
But with Rine here, all his attention was fixed on her.
So much so that the other students were startled at the change.
‘Knowing how Freuden usually acts, this is as blatant as it gets.’
Henry’s narrow gaze shifted to Rine.
‘And that junior of ours... she’s no ordinary one either. For Freuden to go this far, and for her to remain completely unshaken?’
It seemed she didn’t even register Freuden as a man in that sense.
Her attitude carried warmth, yes, but the warmth one shows to a kind senior—not the warmth of romantic feeling.
‘Haah. My friend, how did you fall for someone like that?’
Not that Rine was bad. Far from it. She was kind, beautiful, and talented in magic.
Her constitution gave her difficulties in manifesting magic, but that was hardly disqualifying.
That she was of commoner birth?
The Ulburk family had wealth enough to turn a beggar off the street into a noble if they wished.
The problem was Rine didn’t see Freuden as a man at all.
Someone of Freuden’s stature would have noble daughters lining up, yet here was a commoner girl treating him only as a good senior.
‘Or maybe that’s exactly why he finds her so attractive?’
Though, looking at Freuden’s behavior, Henry suspected there had been something more between the two in the past.
‘Yet Rine herself seems completely oblivious. Something feels off about it all.’
Whether she noticed his musings or not, Freuden kept focusing on Rine.
“Let’s rest here for now.”
At his words, the students let out sighs of relief and sank to the ground.
“Then I’ll go take a look around.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“It’s alright. I’ll just check the area nearby. I can handle that alone.”
Rine waved him off, and Freuden couldn’t press her.
She stepped away and quietly surveyed her surroundings.
Her eyes, able to sense danger, were invaluable for spotting hidden threats.
‘This area... seems safe enough.’
She turned back, intending to reassure the others they could rest safely for a while—
Only for a chill to crawl down her spine as she spun around.
There, a darkness blacker than anything she had ever seen rippled.
‘W-What is that?’
She had never in her life seen such a darkness.
It wasn’t mere shadow, but an alert from her sight itself.
As she froze in alarm, a man within that darkness slowly spoke.
“So here you were.”