After finishing the book, Leo didn't move for a while, as his eyes remained fixed on the final page of the memoir.
The captain's handwriting here was noticeably different, no longer looking clean or composed, but rather erratic and uneven, as each stroke reflected the lingering damage to a mind that had never fully recovered, even after three years had passed.
However, Leo did not let such petty things affect him, as his mind filtered past the hysteria, the horror, and the dramatic warnings and searched for only things that mattered.
The key takeaway for him wasn't the madness, the deaths, or the creeping paranoia described in the memoir, but rather the fact that the Captain had returned alive and successful from his mission.
Even if broken, even if shaken, Captain Aelric Vonn had completed a thirty-day expedition inside the time-stilled world and had made it back with the target's head in hand, proving that survival, though rare, was not impossible.
And that, Leo realized, was the most valuable piece of information buried in the entire journal.
He didn't care for dramatics.
He didn't need tales of suffering to scare him straight.
What he needed were probabilities, boundaries and thresholds of dangers found inside the world, and the memoir had given him exactly that.
It provided him with a clear timeline.
An outlined limit on mana stone corruption.
A firsthand account of what to avoid, how fast the descent into madness occurred, and what signs to look out for.
It wasn't much.
But it was enough to show him that this mission, despite its dangers, could be done.
And if the reward for success was the Black Serpents' full treasury access, then it was a risk worth taking.
That being said—
there were far too many things he still didn't understand.
Why was circulating the world's mana so dangerous, even though it felt empowering at first?
Why did absorbing ambient mana trigger such a slow but irreversible descent into insanity?
Why did even the best mana stones turn corrupted, no matter how they were stored?
And more importantly, how was it that thirty days inside had only equated to eight hours in the real world?
Leo frowned slightly as he looked back down at the sealed memoir, the final words of the captain etched like scars into the parchment.
They had told him the 'what'—
but not the 'why.'
And if he was going to step into a world where logic twisted and time bent, then understanding the mechanics of such a world was not optional.
*Slide*
*Step*
Leo rose from his seat without a word, returning to the same shelf he picked the first book from, as he now scanned the titles more carefully.
After a moment, his fingers landed on a slimmer, far less formal-looking volume, its cover scrawled with an almost lazy confidence.
"I went inside a Time-Stilled World to meditate for 30 days. Here's what I found."
The handwriting was rougher, the ink newer, and the cover lacked the severity of the last book, but Leo wasn't looking for emotion—
he was looking for insight.
If the first account had shown him the warning signs, then perhaps this one would give him the science.
The patterns.
The answers.
Some more knowledge on what to expect and what were the dangers, as Leo sat down to read it at once.
—------------
Author's Note :
My name is Varn Elric. I am a Master-Tier assassin under the Black Serpents Guild, and this journal serves both as a record of my experience of meditating in a time stilled world.
In two days' time, a Green-Coded team mission is set to begin at the guild, and although I want in, as I am only a master tier warrior I am not qualified to participate.
The mission requires one to be a Grandmaster or higher realm assassin to take part, and I am still one wall away from a breakthrough.
So I've decided to make a gamble.
With the approval of my senior, I have decided to enter a Time-Stilled World, planning to spend exactly thirty days within, equivalent to eight hours in real-time.
I intend to use this pocket of temporal dilation to push myself through the barrier and attain Grandmaster status so that I can participate in the mission on time.
Also, my senior has even promised a payment of 50,000 MP if I return alive with a detailed written log.
And so, this is my record.
---
Page 1: On Entry and the Nature of Mana
The moment I arrive, I know I've made the right call—at least for now. The mana in this world is thick, far denser than what we breathe or cycle in the outside universe. Every breath feels charged. Every movement glides smoother.
Meditating here is like bathing in a liquid current of raw energy. My thoughts align quicker, and the absorption rate of ambient mana has jumped nearly 30 to 40% above my previous record in standard environments.
To use a crude analogy: it's like powering a fire lantern with a low-grade mana stone in the real world, versus lighting it with a high-grade core here. The difference is undeniable.
I feel powerful. I feel clear. I feel like I can tear through the walls in my path.
---
Page 2: The Cost Beneath the Surface
But power comes with a cost.
The mana here is strong, yes. But it is not clean. There's something stale about it, something that makes each cycle feel slightly heavier than the last. With every hour, I sense a stickiness clinging to my mana circuits, like residue that refuses to flush.
Meditating here feels like injecting a stimulant. The surge is immediate, the progress visible, but there's damage lurking beneath.
I feel like the elasticity of my mana pathways to expand and contract in response to varying loads is suffering.
The more I meditate, the more I feel the rigidity setting in. The smooth inner lining of my circuits now feels rougher, grainier, like stone rubbed raw by sand.
I'm pushing forward. But I know I'm paying a price.
---
Page 3: Day 7 - Breaking Point
It's been seven days. And I don't know how much more I can take.
When I close my eyes now, I hear voices—sometimes whispering, sometimes screaming. I try to focus, but the silence is no longer silent. It pulses. It stabs. It writhes.
Meditation, once my refuge, now feels like a battlefield. I am close—so close to a breakthrough—but every time I enter trance, I see things I shouldn't. Feel things that gnaw at the edge of reason.
This place doesn't want me to succeed. It wants me to break.
---
Page 4: Breakthrough and the Price of Power
I did it.
I broke through.
But it nearly killed me.
Not ten minutes after I crossed the wall into Grandmaster-tier, I was attacked by three beasts that seemed to materialize from nowhere. It's as if this world itself marks you the moment you evolve.
The fight left me bloodied and bruised. I won, but I lost something, too.
My mana circuits—they're not the same. Their flexibility is gone. The rigidity is now permanent. When I attempt to cycle mana at the new tier's full capacity, my walls swell and resist, and sharp pain rips through my body.
If I push harder, they will rupture. I know it.
So yes, I am stronger. But I am also broken.
My potential has been capped. My future compromised.
---
Conclusion
Let this record be my final warning.
Do not attempt to meditate inside a Time-Stilled World unless you are prepared to sacrifice your long-term future for short-term gain.
Yes, you may rise in power. Yes, you may return a tier higher.
But the price is not just pain. It is permanent disability.