The day after the Pentagram award ceremony. Having gone with the flow and obtained the title of the strongest in the academy, my Academy Rank was now classified as Special Grade. Skipping today's classes, I had come to the Grand Library.

The reason, needless to say, was to borrow books. That was the sole reason I had climbed to the top of this academy, but...

—When you put it like that, it sounds ridiculously trivial...

I was fully aware of how it sounded, yet I was completely serious. The right to peruse the books in this library was several times more valuable than any recommendation for Refined Magic Sword Corps.

In fact, I still had no need for a recommendation slot. However, since I couldn't reject it carelessly, I decided to ignore these perks for now and focus on the books before me. As always, the library was overflowing with books, densely packed as if to overwhelm anyone who entered.

"Finally, I can read them..."

Since it was class time, the Grand Library was nearly empty. Because of that, I quickly managed to find one of the scribes who were always busy in the library.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for books about dragons..."

"Ah, please show your student ID—my apologies!"

By chance, the scribe who had assisted me at the reception desk before was handling me once again. When I showed the obsidian chest ornament, the proof of Special Grade, their usually stoic expression broke into a look of astonishment.

—That was quite the amusing reaction.

"This way, Lord Claym Bradley..."

"Ah, sure."

Feeling a vague sense of satisfaction, I followed the scribe as they guided me into the archive section beyond the reception desk. Apparently, restricted books could only be read within the inner archive and could not be borrowed.

"You may read them, but you are not permitted to take them out or copy them."

That was the scribe's warning.

As expected, the inner archive—where most students were not allowed to enter—contained many suspicious-looking books. Some were tightly bound in chains, others had eerie eyeballs attached to their covers (with actual texture), and some exuded so much magical energy that it was visible to the naked eye... Each book was uniquely bizarre. Compared to those, the books I sought looked quite ordinary.

Within the inner archive, there was a properly equipped reading area. On a spacious desk lay three extremely thick books.

These were the documents on dragons that I had been searching for—these were all the books on dragons that existed in this academy. Even after raising my Academy Rank to Special Grade, the Grand Library only permitted access to three books on dragons. In other words, this was the entirety of the academy's collection on the subject.

"Which one should I start with...?"

The scribe, having guided me this far and found the books, had already returned to their duties. Left alone with the three volumes, I tilted my head in indecision. It didn't really matter which one I started with, but for some reason, I hesitated.

"Hmm..."

"How about this one?"

As I groaned in thought, a pale hand suddenly reached out from the side. Following the hand with my eyes, I found—somehow—Freesia standing there.

"...How long have you been there?"

"I've been here the whole time???"

"..."

I was at a loss for words at her nonchalant response. After all, I hadn't noticed her presence at all.

—Since when did this woman change jobs from a battle maniac to an assassin???

Terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. The fact that she had come this close without me sensing her was beyond unsettling. Feeling an intense sense of danger, I decided to question this stealthy noblewoman.

"What about your classes?"

"Since Clay wasn't there, I skipped too. Then, I saw you heading to the library, so I followed you."

"I see..."

Her true intentions were unclear, but I decided not to pry further. There are some things in this world better left unknown. In fact, there are far too many things that one should avoid knowing.

Ever since the incident with Tylus Arnell and the day I drank Freesia's blood, I felt like she had been getting uncomfortably close. If asked how, it was hard to put into words, but moments like earlier—where she was suddenly beside me—had become more frequent. And without fail, at least once a day, she would ask me this:

"Want to drink again?"

"No, I do not."

As I shot her a wary glance, Freesia brushed aside her silver-white hair and tilted her neck slightly, exposing it. A proper young lady should not be so recklessly showing her skin.

Of course, by "drink," she meant "blood." Ever since that day, she had persistently offered hers to me. However, I had not experienced the same uncontrollable urge for blood since then, so I had continued to refuse.

Withdrawal symptoms? Absolutely not. That bloodlust back then had been the result of losing most of my blood and magic—a sort of survival instinct, or so I believed. Freesia had mentioned something about being a Vampire and how that played a role, but I wasn't entirely convinced.

—But for some reason, I can still use magic...

The strange sensation of magic flowing through my body—it had been there ever since I drank her blood. Yet, rather than discomfort, it felt oddly natural.

Indeed, the magic I used that day, Frozen Blood Tundra, was undoubtedly a spell from the Frostblood Magic lineage—a magic I was not supposed to be able to use. And yet, if I tried, I could still wield Frostblood Magic even now.

—Why???

I had no answer.

Normally, humans could only wield one type of magic. Rare geniuses could use two or three, but that was strictly within elemental magic. Bloodline magic, on the other hand, was exclusive to the descendants of its lineage. Yet for some reason, I, who was purely of the Bradley bloodline, could now use the secret bloodline magic of the Greyfrost family.

So, if asked how a non-bloodline inheritor could wield not one, but two separate bloodline magics—

"It has to be because I drank her blood..."

"So, want to drink again?"

"...No."

I still didn't understand the mechanics or rationale behind this phenomenon, but the undeniable reality made it impossible to dismiss outright. Given everything, I would need to confirm this during my next visit home.

"Sigh... Alright, back to focus—"

With the unexpected intrusion of the stealthy noblewoman, my thoughts had derailed considerably. Now, I needed to concentrate on the three books before me.

"I'll go with the one Freesia suggested."

"Not going to drink?"

"For the last time, no."

Just how badly does she want me to drink her blood? It's terrifying. Absolutely terrifying.

Ignoring Freesia's persistence, I opened the book. Inside, I expected to find a wealth of information on dragons that I had never known before—

"I can't read this..."

While there was definitely information inside, the entire text was written in a script completely foreign to me.

"What era is this language even from...?"

The pages were filled with characters that looked like the trails left by wriggling earthworms, causing me to instinctively furrow my brows. One hurdle after another. Just when I thought I had reached my goal, another trial blocked my way. The world clearly had a personal vendetta against me.

"Not this again..."

"Are you okay, Clay?"

And so, I slumped over the desk in the archive, while the girl beside me merely tilted her head in curiosity.