The Kingdom of Elysium, nestled upon the Valoria Continent, thrived beneath the noon sun. In the heart of its greatest city—Sovereign City, capital of the Shrouded Cloud Empire—cobblestone streets gleamed like rivers of silver as sunlight danced across rows of towering spires and marble towers.
Armored knights in polished plate marched past banners fluttering in the wind, their crests glinting gold. Mages in long robes, stitched with runes that shimmered faintly, strolled alongside apprentices who whispered excitedly about spellcraft and elemental theory.
Wyverns and pegasi-drawn carriages soared overhead, carrying nobles and guild masters through the crowded skyways. The scent of roasted griffon meat and arcane incense filled the air. Street vendors hawked enchanted charms, mana potions, and enchanted blades said to "cut through dragon scale like butter."
Sovereign City was alive—a place where knights sought glory, mages sought mastery, and every soul hungered for a glimpse of greatness.
Yet, hidden in a narrow backstreet that few dared to wander stood a building that seemed oddly... wrong for its surroundings.
It was small, built entirely of smooth glass rather than the expected stone or oak, and utterly silent amid the bustle around it. Above the glass door hung a weathered wooden sign, its edges chipped and faded:
"library of truth ."
Unlike the radiant guild halls and roaring taverns nearby, this structure exuded no aura, no hint of magic or might. Most who passed by simply failed to notice it at all.
Those sensitive to mana, however, could feel something off—a kind of stillness that swallowed all detection. The glass walls reflected the street, but nothing of the interior. No shelves, no books, not even a shadow. Only a small wooden plaque on the door that read, quite plainly, "Closed."
Inside, a young man yawned and stretched before turning the plaque to its other side—"Open."
His name was Xavier.
Three days ago, he'd been a web designer from Earth. Then a truck, a stray cat, a blinding light—and now, somehow, he was the keeper of a magical library bound to a system straight out of an RPG.
The familiar glowing panel appeared before his eyes, its crimson text flashing like a warning siren:
[System Notice]
Host, this is your final warning.
Failure to complete today's assigned task will result in the permanent eradication of your future bloodline.
In short: say goodbye to your balls.
Xavier groaned. "You've reminded me every hour. I get it."
Main Task: Register 1 new patron (Knight or Mage, Tier 1 or higher).
Progress: 0 / 1
Reward: Unlock new library wings – Basic Spell Tomes & Beginner Alchemical Recipes.
Penalty: Loss of system and... reproductive capacity.
Deadline: 18 hours remaining.
He buried his face in his hands. "The system vanishing, fine. But why the reproductive blackmail?"
[System:] It is a test of your worth, host. To determine if you are the chosen keeper.
"Oh, sure," Xavier muttered, glaring at the air. "Because some divine god looked down and thought, 'Let's test his courage by threatening his family jewels.'"
[System:] Do not fret, host. This is the only penalty. Future missions will not contain such... consequences.
"Oh, lovely. So things improve after the damage is irreversible. Great morale booster."
He slumped across the counter, staring at the ticking clock on the wall. Eighteen hours left. Just one patron.
How hard could that be?
Unfortunately, quite hard. The patron registration fee wasn't in copper or silver—it required one mana crystal.
In this world, a single mana crystal was worth more than ten gold crowns. Enough to feed a small family for months. Only the nobility, powerful mages, or high-ranking knights dealt in such currency.
And Xavier? He was asking them to spend that much... to read.
He sighed again. In the past two days, three impressive-looking knights had wandered in—one even in full silver armor—but they'd all left moments later after hearing the "membership fee."
Eighteen hours. One customer.
He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "I'm doomed.
Outside, the bells of the Mage's Quarter tolled softly. Somewhere in the distance, the roar of a wyvern echoed through the skies. And yet, in the quiet of the glass-walled archive, the only sound was the faint ticking of the clock... counting down Xavier's impending doom.