04:00 hours, early morning. My biological sensors detected an extreme temperature drop in the room, a marker of the transition between night and day. My brain had come back online after a sleep cycle I had optimized to five hours. In my previous world, rest time management was an operational basic for maintaining cognitive efficiency. In this ruined body, sleep was no longer just rest, but a mandatory reboot protocol to prevent the Black Reflux from gnawing at my vital organs while I was unconscious.
I sat up on the edge of the bed. The morning air felt like it was biting my skin. I shifted my gaze to my palms; the blackened veins that had pulsed last night had slightly subsided, retreating once more beneath the epidermal layer.
"System. Diagnostic Check."
[SYSTEM INITIALIZATION…]
Host: Veyr Noctis
Physical Stress Level: 18% (Stable)
Curse Status: Black Blood Decree (Dormant/Standby)
Mana Circuit: Degraded (Maximum Capacity 30%)
"Thirty percent," I murmured into the silence. "More than sufficient to simply walk to the storage vault."
I rose, donning simple formal attire in pitch black, without any conspicuous noble ornaments. This was not the time to flaunt status. This was an inventory audit schedule. I reached into the pocket of my coat hanging on the chair, confirming that the black metal key with the raven crest—the access rights I had extracted from Duke Alistair's authority last night—was precisely in place.
Without making a sound, I stepped out of the room. The corridors of the Noctis Residence at this hour were completely dead. The servants had not yet begun their morning shift rotation. There were no guard patrols in the inner sector because this house's security system relied on magical barriers and mana sensors embedded in the marble floors. Because I was a legitimate Noctis blood holder, the sensor categorized me as a 'Friendly' entity and allowed me passage.
I navigated through the West Wing. The further I stepped from the main sector, the more the air temperature dropped, and the architecture shifted from marble opulence to rough basalt stonework built purely for functionality and defense.
At the end of the darkest corridor, a massive steel door, three meters high, stood blocking the path. There was no conventional keyhole, no door handle. There was only a circular plate in the center with an engraving of a single closed eye.
This was the West Wing Underground Vault. The strategic asset storage zone of the Noctis Family.
I pressed the black metal key precisely onto the engraving of the closed eye.
The object responded to my body heat and mana signature. A hissing sound emerged as the black metal melted, seeping into the gaps of the engraving like mercury, then forming a circuit pattern that glowed dark red. The key was single-use—my temporary access rights had now been authorized.
Clang. Grrrrrr.
Ancient gear mechanisms within the walls rotated. The massive steel door shifted open slowly, exhaling a dense aroma of ozone, centuries-old dust, and stagnant mana pressure that made the hair on my arms stand on end.
I stepped inside, and the magical torches on the walls automatically ignited, emitting pale blue flames.
"Audit commencing. Cognitive Analysis, activate to a ten-meter radius."
My eyes scanned the room. This vault did not resemble a pile of pirate treasure. The place was organized with systematic precision—exactly like the pallet racks in a large-scale logistics warehouse. Every object was placed inside airtight glass tubes or upon stone pedestals equipped with protective runes.
On the first rack, I saw a longsword whose blade radiated air distortion. [Wind-Severing Blade (Rank A)]. A sword capable of cleaving the wind. Required a healthy mana circuit to operate. Status: Useless to me.
On the second rack, a round shield that seemed to absorb the torchlight. [Aegis of the Fallen (Rank A+)]. Capable of absorbing kinetic damage. Estimated weight: 50 kilograms. Status: Mobility burden. Rejected.
I continued scanning the storage aisles, ignoring offensive and defensive artifacts worth millions of gold coins. They were the wrong investment for a body sentenced to death by its own system. My attention was drawn to the very back corner of the room, a dim area that had no rune protection at all. The area where the Noctis Family discarded assets deemed 'defective', 'damaged', or 'unidentified'.
On a simple stone table, among piles of decaying parchment and shattered crystal fragments, lay a thick book bound in jet-black beast hide. There was no title, no gold ornamentation. The object seemed to absorb the light particles around it.
I approached. The moment my fingertip was within five centimeters of its cover, my System Window exploded with a bright red notification.
[SYSTEM PROMPT: MYTHIC ARTIFACT DETECTED]
[Name: Codex Ignis (Status: Dormant/Rejected)]
[Warning: Artifact detecting anomaly in Host's soul structure. Initiating compatibility scan protocol...]
My defense systems did not react. I allowed the artifact to "read" my cognitive waves. If the Codex Ignis operated according to the physics theory of my previous world, this book did not reject weak users, but rather rejected stupid ones. The reason this book was discarded in the Noctis Residence's trash room was that no mage in this era understood basic science. They relied on chants, spells, and faith to manifest magic. The Codex Ignis demanded absolute logic.
[Compatibility Accepted. Cognitive Synchronization: Open.]
[Instruction: Visualize the law of causality to begin creation.]
I reached for the book. Its leather cover felt ice-cold. I opened it. The pages were completely blank, pristine white without a single drop of ink.
"Time to test thermodynamic theory on a primitive magical framework," I whispered quietly.
Creating solid matter (like a sword) required an understanding of infinite regress down to the level of quarks or quantum strings—that was guaranteed to trigger Cognitive Overload and detonate my brain. So, I would play in the realm of pure mechanical energy. Heat transfer. Fire.
I extended my left hand forward, palm open facing upward. My eyes stared sharply at the empty space an inch above my palm.
I did not think of "fire". Fire is the end result. I thought of the process.
In my head, I visualized the air above my hand. Oxygen ($O_2$) and Nitrogen ($N_2$). I invoked the basic concept of molecular kinetic energy. The temperature of an ideal gas is directly proportional to the average translational kinetic energy of its molecules. The formula was clearly illustrated in my analytical brain:
$E_k = \frac{3}{2} k_B T$
Where $E_k$ is the average kinetic energy, $k_B$ is the Boltzmann constant, and $T$ is the absolute temperature.
I did not need to expend mana to create fire. I merely needed to use the Codex Ignis as a catalyst for the laws of physics.
"Codex Instruction:" my voice echoed softly within the vault. "Increase the molecular vibration of oxygen at XYZ coordinates (radius 2 centimeters above my palm). Force those molecules to collide with each other at exponential speed. Continue increasing their kinetic energy until reaching the gas ignition temperature (flash point). Systematically draw in exhaust gas to maintain a secondary oxygen flow."
The blank pages of the Codex Ignis suddenly emitted a dim light. Glowing golden letters began writing themselves onto the paper, translating my modern scientific understanding into the absolute language of this world.
A split second later, the air above my palm distorted. There was no mana buildup. No magic circle or spell chant. Only the fact of science forced into reality by a primordial artifact.
The air vibrated violently. Heat gathered at a single small point. Then, instantly...
Trsssh.
A perfectly blue flame manifested precisely above my palm. The fire did not burn my skin, because the Codex had set the coordinate parameters absolutely according to my instructions. The fire was stable, efficient, and at an extraordinarily high temperature resulting from the pure oxygen combustion I had engineered.
[SYSTEM ALERT: NEW PHENOMENON CREATED]
[Calculating variables... Verifying natural laws...]
[New Skill Acquired: Thermodynamic Manipulation (Level: Unrated)]
[Effect: Host can manipulate molecular kinetic energy in logically understood areas without consuming traditional Mana.]
"Experiment successful," I murmured. The corner of my lips did not curl into a triumphant smile, but merely the mechanical satisfaction of a technician who had successfully started a broken engine.
However, this success demanded payment.
The System did note that I did not use my mana circuit, but the curse entity within my blood, the Black Blood Decree, detected a significant 'Output' of energy originating from my essence. This curse is an absolute parasite. It does not care where the energy source comes from; if this body exerts power, a tax must be paid.
The blue flame in my hand extinguished instantly as a shockwave slammed into my heart.
"Ugh—!"
The sensation of rusted metal mixed with concentrated acid immediately exploded from my stomach, tearing upward into my throat. I staggered backward, slamming the Codex against my chest with one hand, while the other hand gripped the stone table tightly to maintain balance.
I coughed. Thick, black, foul-smelling fluid spilled from my mouth, spattering onto the basalt stone floor. The pain arrived like thousands of microscopic scalpels simultaneously slicing the walls of my intestines and lungs. Pain Amplification +200%. My vision dimmed, black spots covering my peripheral sight.
Hold it, I commanded my own nervous system. The Emotional Lock immediately suppressed the panic rising from this body's animalistic survival instinct. The physical reaction was real, but my mind remained behind a bulletproof glass pane. I separated myself from this pain. Pain is merely a sensory signal. It is not me. It is merely an indicator of hardware damage.
I breathed through my nose. Inhale three seconds, hold two seconds, exhale four seconds. Oxygen stabilization protocol.
After nearly two minutes in a hunched position like a broken statue, the pulse at my temples began slowing to a tolerable rhythm. I wiped the remnants of black blood from my lower lip with the back of my hand.
"Damage compensation remains within logistical tolerance limits," I whispered, glancing at the Codex Ignis in my hand. This weapon was now secured. I no longer needed to rely on a physical sword that accelerated my motor fatigue. With this, I could burn, freeze, or even manipulate atmospheric pressure, turning it into a comprehension-based skill.
I concealed the Codex Ignis inside a hidden pocket beneath my black coat, then turned to leave the stone table. The steel door behind me closed slowly after I stepped out, locking the secrets of the Underground Sector once more.
Now, I had to return to my room immediately to clean the blood residue before the servants began their patrols.
I walked down the corridor with a rigid posture. The Emotional Lock forced my muscles to ignore the residual tremors from the earlier pain. Every step I took was regulated at the same length and speed, maintaining calorie efficiency.
However, just as I turned toward the Servants' Wing to take a detour route to my room, my peripheral sensors caught movement.
At the end of the corridor, standing frozen beside a trolley cart filled with stacks of clean sheets, was Eris.
The blue-eyed maid girl appeared to be starting her morning duties earlier than the regular schedule. Seeing me emerge from the direction of the West Wing—a restricted area for anyone other than key holders—her posture stiffened immediately.
Eris quickly bowed her head deeply, gripping the edges of her wooden trolley tightly.
"G-Good morning, Master Veyr," she greeted. Her voice was forced to be as flat as possible, but the micro-vibration in her vocal cords was caught by my analysis. She was afraid, yet it was not impulsive terror. It was tactical alertness.
I did not stop. Stopping my steps would only give her time to process data further. I continued walking past her.
"Morning," I replied curtly. Without a threatening tone, without sentiment. Just an automatic verbal response.
As I stepped right beside her, my stride carried a sweep of the corridor's draft.
I did not turn my head toward her, but from the corner of my eye, I saw Eris's pupils moving at an abnormal speed. She held her breath for a moment.
I continued walking away, leaving the corridor in silence, letting Eris lock herself in with her own observations.
Back there, Eris slowly lifted her face after her master disappeared around the corridor's bend. Her blue eyes narrowed sharply. Her hands gripping the cart clutched the wood until her knuckles turned white.
As someone with a high-level observational talent, Eris's brain was dissecting every anomaly that had just passed before her during that two-second encounter.
One, Eris inwardly assembled a hypothesis. Master Veyr came out from the direction of the West Wing Underground. That is the artifact vault area. He has no authority there unless the Duke himself granted permission. What was he doing at five in the morning?
Two. Eris recalled Veyr's body gestures. The back of his hand... there was a blackish stain on his knuckles. That is not an ink stain. The consistency, the concentrated color, and the smell of rusted metal that accompanied him as he passed... that was blood. Strange blood. And his neck was covered in cold sweat.
However, the third piece of data was what made the hairs on Eris's nape stand on end.
As Veyr walked past her, Eris caught a very specific smell. A sharp scent of ozone mixed with the aroma of air suddenly burned at high temperature. It was the scent that only appears after a lightning strike or when high-level fire magic is unleashed.
But Master Veyr is a Black Veil user. Shadow curse magic. He has no mana circuit compatible with elemental fire magic at all.
He is bleeding, he just came from the artifact vault, and he carries the residue of extreme-temperature fire magic without using a sword or a magic staff, Eris concluded inside her head. The girl's heart beat faster, no longer because of the cheap intimidation of the past, but because she realized she was witnessing the birth of a new monster within this residence.
A monster that no longer roared to frighten its prey, but a rational monster systematically assembling its ammunition supply in silence.
Eris swallowed hard. In nine days, she would be sent to Lumina Academy as the attendant of this anomalous entity. For the first time, she felt that the true danger would not come from the elite factions at the academy later, but from her own master, whose footsteps had vanished, swallowed by the shadows of the corridor.