The trials concluded, granting the team a well-earned respite. After attending to a few loose ends, Lianna, bubbling with enthusiasm, was eager to show everyone the sights of Falling Leaf City. Knight Owen, however, had vanished the moment they'd decided on this sightseeing break. Whether he was lost in some tavern or painting the town red, no one knew.
Corbin, for his part, hadn't forgotten Owen's promise to Elder Lysander regarding "fine wine and those journals." He just hoped the free-spirited knight wouldn't get too carried away. And then there was his promise to Lyra for "all those fun trinkets in the magic shops." The War God Temple trials still lingered in his thoughts, too – that power that had failed to materialize within him. His upcoming meeting with Elias now carried an even greater sense of purpose: to seek answers.
The appointed seventh day arrived before he knew it. Corbin, relying on his memory, retraced his steps to that conspicuous alley in the old district and found the shop with the weathered sign above the door: "The Whispering Athenaeum," etched in archaic script. The faded wooden placard seemed even more mysterious in the alley's shadows.
He pushed open the heavy door, its groan a familiar sound now. The distinctive scent of aged paper, ink, and some strange spice filled his nostrils – a scent he recognized. Inside, the Athenaeum remained dimly lit, towering shelves crammed with books reaching towards the ceiling.
Elias sat behind a massive oak desk piled high with texts, a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, intently studying a volume beneath the soft glow of a magic lamp. Hearing Corbin's footsteps, he slowly looked up, his eyes behind the lenses sharp and knowing, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"You've arrived, Corbin," Elias's voice was smooth, a touch husky. Gone was the initial scrutiny; now there was a hint of familiarity. "Our gathering doesn't officially begin until evening. You're early. Feel free to relax, browse the books. The 'whispers' here might offer some... unique insights." He gestured around the room.
Corbin responded with a respectful nod, accepting the invitation. He was indeed quite curious about the peculiar covers and obscure contents of these books. Over the next few hours, he casually perused several volumes Elias permitted him to handle. Most were fragments of ancient magical theories, critical dissections of existing magical systems, and even some speculations about the origins of divine power. The material was dense and challenging, yet it ignited a spark within him – echoing that Earthly desire to understand the fundamental nature of things. His perspective broadened, his mind teemed with new ideas.
Time slipped away, the daylight outside gradually fading.
As evening descended, the Athenaeum's door creaked open intermittently, the quiet of the place giving way to a low hum of activity. The new arrivals were a diverse bunch. Some wore the stereotypical mage's robes, hoods obscuring their faces, faint magical energy radiating from them. Others were dressed plainly, indistinguishable from ordinary townsfolk; only Elias's warm greetings hinted at their connection to this clandestine meeting. They gathered in small groups, their hushed conversations filling the air, and a strange energy began to coalesce.
When the last guest arrived, Elias rose from his seat, a gentle clap of his hands drawing everyone's attention. He moved to the center of the room, his gaze sweeping across the assembled group. The previous murmur subsided into silence.
"Thank you all for coming," Elias's voice carried clearly to every corner of the room. "Tonight's 'Whispers' are about to begin."
As the last word hung in the air, the Athenaeum's heavy oak door slammed shut and locked itself, as if by magic. An invisible barrier shimmered into existence over the doors and windows, sealing them off. Elias began to chant a complex, archaic incantation, his hands tracing intricate patterns in the air.
The other mages joined in, some closing their eyes in meditation, others murmuring responses. Multicolored magical light emanated from them, weaving together. Corbin felt a gentle yet irresistible force envelop him. His vision exploded with light, and the room was filled with a chorus of soft, harmonious chanting. He felt a subtle tremor within his soul, as if it were resonating with some ancient call.
The sensation was fleeting. When Corbin's sight returned, he found himself in a completely different place.
He stood in a majestic hall, a classic castle interior. Towering stone pillars supported a vaulted ceiling, and the walls were adorned with banners bearing elaborate crests and ancient paintings. To his astonishment, one side of the hall opened onto a lush lawn, bathed in bright sunlight under a clear blue sky. Looking up, he saw what appeared to be a cross between a palace and a cliff face – a stark contrast to the twilight he'd left behind in the Athenaeum.
"Where... were we just teleported?" Corbin murmured, stunned and disoriented.
"Welcome to the true gathering place of the Whispering Athenaeum, Corbin," Elias said, appearing at his side with a warm smile. "What you just experienced was a group teleportation spell, taking us directly to one of our semi-planar havens."
He paused, a mix of pride and resignation in his voice. "We, those who gather here, are considered something of a radical bunch by mages who adhere to tradition and revere divine authority. They see our research as defiance, even blasphemy against the God of Magic. But we believe that the essence of magic lies in exploration and understanding, not blind faith and restriction."
The words shone like a beacon, cutting through Corbin's lingering confusion about the War God Temple trials.
Elias led Corbin towards the center of the hall. The atmosphere here was a far cry from the quiet of the Athenaeum. A unique aroma hung in the air – a blend of exotic magical ingredients, refined potions, and the faint tang of residual energy. The hall was even more expansive than Corbin had initially grasped. Though it was daytime outside, the interior was still lit by several glowing magic crystals embedded in the walls and floating orbs of light, creating an environment conducive to focused study.
Seven or eight figures were scattered around several large stone tables in the central area. They were all deep in concentration, dressed in various styles, but each exuded an aura of subtle yet confident magical power. Corbin could sense that they were all at least "Formal" level casters, and some radiated power that was truly profound.
Elias brought Corbin to the edge of the group. A woman with dark crystal spectacles – Elano – happened to look up. Her gaze briefly assessed Corbin before she nodded to Elias and addressed Corbin in an even tone. "Elias, this is the newcomer you mentioned? Since he's a fellow seeker of magic, perhaps he'd like to demonstrate some basic Evocation to show us his control."
Corbin hesitated for a moment, then nodded at Elias's encouraging look. He took a deep breath and, following Elder Lysander's teachings, focused his mental energy to draw upon the ambient magic. A fist-sized ball of fire rapidly formed in his palm, then he launched it towards a metal target about ten meters away, a target already marked with the residue of countless spells. The fireball exploded with a muted thump, its power unremarkable, consistent with his usual practice.
However, as he cast the spell, Elano and several nearby mages tensed slightly.
"Hmm, the rate of mental energy to magic conversion is decent, and..." A disheveled-looking middle-aged mage – Finley – stroked his chin, a flicker of interest in his eyes. "The magic's convergence pattern... an unusual degree of affinity, perhaps?"
Elano offered a terse assessment: "Basic control is adequate. Now, let's return to our previous discussion." With that, she turned back to Finley, resuming their technical debate as if Corbin's display had been a mere interruption. The other mages who had briefly paid attention quickly returned to their own research.
"...Finley, your 'Rapid Fireball' theory still has that entropy issue during the extreme compression and acceleration phases," Elano stated coolly, a few motes of arcane energy dancing around her fingertip.
Finley waved his hand dismissively. "I've reduced the backlash probability to less than five percent using 'Reverse Rune Harmonic Resonance'! We have to break free from the shackles of existing frameworks!" He demonstrated again, conjuring a swift, solid fireball, its intensity far surpassing Corbin's.
Elano pushed her glasses up her nose and glanced at the scorched dent in the target. "Impressive power. However, in the War God system, those at the 'Formal' tier have Dòuqì wàifàng as a matter of course. They don't need to worry about backlash. Their deity provides its own rules of protection."
Finley's expression shifted, but he quickly countered, "That's beside the point! The fundamental forces are different! The God of Magic wants us to explore the unknown, not to be satisfied with pre-packaged 'gifts'! Even His advancement rules are more about acknowledging and guiding a seeker's abilities at a certain level!"
Nearby, a quiet young mage named Eric was intently manipulating three floating ice shard shields inscribed with complex, pale blue patterns. An older mage observed him for a long moment, then offered praise. "Eric, the 'Dynamic Crystal Lattice Defense' concept is excellent, and its adaptability is promising. If you can solve the structural collapse issue under high-impact stress, it could be a breakthrough. Alas, those advanced knights... their deities grant them 'Dòuqì Armor' as if it were second nature. It's a level of mastery we can only dream of."
Eric's hands paused, the glow of the ice shields seeming to dim momentarily. "Under the laws of the universe, the only path is relentless improvement," he murmured.
Elano added, "My mentor is correct. Even for us mages, once we reach the 'Advanced' level, the God of Magic unlocks the gate of 'Instant Casting.' Such power... it's beyond the grasp of mortal ingenuity in the short term."
The older mage shook his head, his gaze distant. "The gods have their own laws governing the world. We are merely trying to grasp at fragments of those laws, seeking a spark of understanding that mortals can attain."
Those few words cast a chill over the previously lively atmosphere. The mages' expressions varied – some lowered their heads in silence, others stared into the distance, their brows furrowed with a mix of longing for power and frustration with their limitations. But only for a moment. Soon, the hall was filled with renewed discussion and demonstrations, as if the brief moment of gravity had only spurred them on.
Corbin's heart pounded. He was deeply moved. Though their exchanges were brief and restrained, they were like precise scalpels, dissecting a reality he had never imagined. These weren't complaints; they were observations of a reality these mages faced daily, a reality they were striving to overcome. The contrast between the seemingly "unfair" divine power system and their own arduous pursuit was stark. This contrast, coupled with their indomitable, persistent spirit, resonated profoundly with Corbin. It echoed his own Earthly thirst for knowledge, his drive to understand the rules of the universe, and his desire for self-determination. He sensed, with growing certainty, that he might find a truly unique path here.
The gathering was winding down. Members began to drift towards the temporary portal that Elias opened, preparing to return to the Athenaeum. Corbin, trailing behind Elias, was bursting with questions. Once most had left, Corbin finally spoke:
"Elias," Corbin began, his voice hesitant yet filled with eagerness, "The discussion about the gods' rules and the tiers of power... I'm still unclear. I seemed to encounter something similar during the War God Temple trials."
Elias stopped and turned to Corbin, a knowing smile in his eyes, as if anticipating the question.
"Sit, Corbin," Elias gestured to a secluded stone bench in the corner of the hall. "What you sensed is a direct manifestation of the laws established by the gods, what some of us privately call the 'Divine Shackles.'"
Once they were seated, Elias explained calmly, "In the War God Temple, every warrior who passes the trials and ascends to the 'Formal' tier is acknowledged by the War God's laws and naturally gains the 'Dòuqì wàifàng' technique. This isn't because they've reached some critical understanding of Dòuqì; it's because the War God directly opens that door for His followers."
He paused, continuing, "Similarly, when a mage apprentice is recognized by the God of Magic and becomes a 'Formal Mage,' the god's laws often grant them the talent of 'Multiple Spellcasting.' These are standard 'gifts' bestowed by the gods upon their believers or those they acknowledge at the 'Formal' tier – a rule-based empowerment."
Corbin listened intently, recalling the changes he'd witnessed in Matthew, Rhodes, and Lianna after their War God Temple recognition.
Elias elaborated, "When they reach the higher 'Advanced' tier, this god-given power becomes even more potent. For example, Advanced Knights, through their faith and power, master the 'Dòuqì Armor' and the 'Dòuqì Slash.' And for us Advanced Mages recognized by the God of Magic, advancement usually unlocks access to higher-level magic, like 'Instantaneous Casting,' allowing spells that once required lengthy preparation to be cast in a heartbeat. These are all fixed manifestations of the gods' laws at the corresponding tiers. The God of Magic's laws might lean more towards 'permission granting' upon reaching a certain level of knowledge or control, rather than simple power infusion, but it's still part of His established system."
"Of course," Elias added, "Those with exceptional affinity for a god's will, or those with extraordinary talent – like your friend Matthew from the War God Temple – might receive additional insights or deeper levels of power beyond these standard gifts. But the core empowerment still stems from the gods' pre-ordained rules."
Corbin's brow furrowed. "Then... why call them 'Shackles'?"
A complex emotion flickered in Elias's eyes – a blend of reverence and frustration. "Because these 'gifts,' these god-given laws, are fundamentally 'limitations.' They offer the most convenient path, but they can also blind you to the more challenging, less obvious paths that might lead to even greater discoveries. The gods' laws tell you 'what,' but not necessarily 'why.' We, those who dedicate ourselves to studying fundamental energy nodes, elemental structures, and even questioning existing magical theories, do so because we refuse to be passive recipients of divine rules. We yearn to understand the very source of power, to grasp the true principles hidden behind the gods' might through our own intellect. It's difficult, it's slow, and it's often disheartening. When decades of painstaking research can be overshadowed by a god's effortless 'blessing,' the sense of futility... it can crush those who lack unwavering conviction."
He looked at Corbin, his gaze intense. "But we believe that only by truly understanding the rules can we hope to transcend them. The gods' path is a shortcut, but it might also be a dead end. We want to see if there's a wider world beyond that shortcut. That's one of the reasons the Whispering Athenaeum exists, the shared obsession of us 'radical magic theorists.'"
Elias's words were like a key, unlocking Corbin's lingering questions about power, gods, and the potential of mortals. They solidified his resolve to forge his own path of discovery.