Chapter 648 - Omniscient First-Person’s Viewpoint

Not just one person has mastered the unique arcane arts. Naturally, there isn't just one artifact either. Not everyone who has mastered these unique spells leaves behind an artifact, but if one wishes, they certainly can. After all, an artifact is essentially an imprint left by the will behind the arcane spell. “The accomplishments of the great are passed down through generations, unyielding even in the hardest of winters.” “All of Celsius are heirs to the advancements of our ancestor, Kelvin Celsius.” “The family artifacts enhance the rule of law, reinforcing the governance of the domain.” There are seven Celsiuses, each possessing an artifact, with two of them, including Elisha, being accomplished magicians. The others, too, are powerful enough to be considered for ascension to the floating fortress. With this might, they could redraw the map. If an island made of ice were to newly emerge beyond the sea, these individuals would be the first ones suspected. “Knowledge is akin to a tower, with a foundation laid by someone and subsequent generations building it higher.” “Those who do not seek truth have no right to ascend this tower.” The world seems to distort. Seven artifacts embodying unique arcane arts. Even though they have yet to activate, diamond-shaped crystals flicker in and out of existence in the air. The unique spell is a manifestation of one's will on the world. When seven such wills overlap, the very order of this space shifts. Parts that deviate cancel each other out, while parts that align grow even stronger. Here, even a single drop of sweat would freeze immediately. Elisha walked lightly through the air. Ice formed in the once empty sky to support her. Behind her, faint blue wings shimmered. In this space where the seven artifacts coexist, Celsius was the law itself. “Each unique spell is different, but from a young age, we learned and grew under the rule of Kelvin Celsius. A magician born in Celsius’s domain is deemed worthy to become part of this rule.” Upon hearing those words, I thought of the Golden Mirror. As the founder of alchemy and a deity-like figure, the Golden Mirror traveled through many kingdoms, exerting great influence. Perhaps that's why many leaders of these kingdoms awakened to unique spells similar to alchemy. It was inevitable. The power of the Golden Mirror was so immense and formidable. Humans who lived under the shadow of this deity couldn't help but resemble it. Humans imitate gods. Though smaller and far safer in scale, the same was true for Celsius. “Knowledge is like starlight in the night sky. It beckons all to gaze upwards, to draw constellations, and to build towers to reach it. But your dark magic is like the shadowy cloud beneath, obscuring the precious and distant starlight by being too close. Ignorant fools without light wade miserably through darkness, leaving nothing behind and vanishing pathetically.” The admiration for magicians forms the very framework of this magical federation. Something like dark magic cannot be tolerated. Even if it offers convenience to humans for the time being. “What are you still explaining, Elisha? Proceed with the family council.” As the conversation dragged on, another Celsius magician in white robes interrupted. Elisha cast a sidelong glance at me and spoke. “To correct the foolish and lead them in the right direction is the duty of heirs to the noble family.” “No discussion is necessary. We have already reached our decision after thorough consideration. We will not accept the rules the Pagoda of Demons intends to impose.” Pagoda of Demons. Where had I heard this before? It first flitted through Shea's memories, then I heard it at the floating fortress. The very mention of demons sparked a visceral reaction. It was an open secret that Lankart was part of the Pagoda of Demons. The story left incomplete at the floating fortress continues in this land. “Celsius rejects the Pagoda of Demons. We will uphold the law of the domain as we always have. But should the Pagoda of Demons seek to test their world order within our domain, that is a declaration of conflict.” “What? Wait a moment. The Pagoda of Demons?” Why are they telling me this? I've never even met it. “Your power is from a demon. Did you think we wouldn't notice?” “Temperus didn't know.” “A houseguard doesn’t need to read.” “It would be convenient if they could, though.” The magician pointed their staff at me. “The once-flourishing Fahrenheit of the North fell due to conflicting rules. Celsius thrives within and because of these laws. We need no other." Indeed, Celsius prospers. It would be hard to find another city this flourishing in the North. Some ignorant ones might be cast aside, but that is true of any country or city. Elisha drew out a transparent key. As she thrust the rough, bluish key into the air, a subspace opened, unleashing a fierce gust. Rene's pocket. Its structure is likely the same as Shea's pocket. However, unlike Shea's pocket, which was used conveniently, this had a different purpose. It was a subspace meant to control and harmonize the immensely powerful and destructive force of the artifact. “Viva Celsius. May we preserve and cultivate the achievements of our ancestors.” Elisha, opening the heirloom’s subspace, removed her gloves and reached towards me. A large shadow wavered behind her. The touch of her hand transcended space and reached me. Wait? When it comes to running away, my body won't move. It's as if I'm trapped in ice. "TGloWlBtWUkwZWhUWHNtSC9RL1BOb29iZnpRMWlEZ1d3OThVVGU5RGJYY28yTWVSTWxUSUZjRHV0TkVPWkpqNA" “Phase Out.” No, I’m ice! The ‘phase’ of the space enveloping me was solidified. I couldn't move a single finger, yet it felt natural because it was solid. “Perhaps I’ll release you later. For now, cool your head inside.” Within the slowly dimming ice, Elisha turned her back on me. Fixed in this immobilized world, I descended further... ... ... ... Blink. I opened my eyes. The Celsius Heirloom Hall is where the family's artifacts must gather to be used—a treasured secret weapon of a family renowned for its magical prowess. I was overpowered without a chance to resist. Such a formidable force. There's a reason the imperial-backed vassal states faced defeat. While I would have preferred not to experience its power firsthand, it is what it is. The contribution they sought wasn't my way. -...! Unbelievable! - To think I've lived so long to see this, even though I am technically already dead. A human has touched the realm of our mindscapes? - Touched? It's not just that! We're conversing with each other! This isn't about that person 'entering'—we've 'entered' into that human. - What's there to be surprised about? I am aware. I just thought it would be more prudent to analyze this rather than get riled up. - Analyze what? The answer is right before us! - We are remnants of relics, mere mindscapes. How can tools that neither see nor hear and are merely sources of power make judgments on their own? It's rational to wait for him to reveal himself. “Ah, greetings, dear Heirloom Hall.” I greeted the blurry apparitions of the magicians as I surveyed the surroundings. The world of the mindscape resembled the heirloom hall within the subspace. Like constellations, some were distant, others near. In each isolated chamber sat an artifact. Their owners, blurry images of people, were looking at me. "Nice to meet you all. I am the King of Humans." Upon revealing my identity, the owners of the artifacts were visibly startled. - The King of Humans? - Goodness. He just accessed the power of the Heirloom Hall. What on earth is happening? - Did our descendants actually challenge the King of Humans? Seems entirely irrational. “Though now a powerless one.” - Ah, if that's the case, it makes sense. - Powerless, yet you used the heirloom's power? - Even a fallen noble retains prestige for three generations. Surely, for the King of Humans, it's more. - Then the King of Humans should be able to explain how we 'entered.' As ideated beings, we can converse normally within him. The artifacts conversed warmly, resembling a gathering of elders. In the noisy debate among artifacts, I calmly counted. Eight. There's one extra. Among them, the most distinct artifact spoke to me. - What did you come seeking to know? "I came to see you all." - Of course. There's no one else here but us. What I meant was, what knowledge do you seek here? “Just curious.” An artifact cannot lie. This is the realm of ideation. Any thought or remembrance is instantly manifested as reality here. Moreover, there's no reason for a mindscape to lie. Deception is meant to gain something at another's expense, but being merely a remnant of consciousness, what's there to gain? The artifact spoke again. - To uphold the will of Kelvin Celsius. “What is Kelvin Celsius's will?” - He bequeathed many. Theories on freezing and boiling points, methods to sustain warmth, magic to summon water... But if there's one overarching theme, it's the 'Rule.' Known as Subrule, surpassing freezing and boiling points. This was once a magician. Even in death, it continued to exhibit a fondness for intellectual displays. - This land cannot survive without rules. Ice melts only in the summer, allowing moss-like grasses to grow. Beasts with thick furs congregate to eat these grasses, followed by wolves and bears preying on them. The northern oceans remain unfrozen, with hardy beasts tearing apart icebergs as snacks. There’s a reason for the short history here. The further north, the larger the beasts, making it challenging for humans, who often end up prey themselves. In the bountiful south, they could gather into communities, but even that wasn't feasible here. Only a few, like Eskimos, survived more like beasts. - Magic is the sole fire illuminating this harsh, cold land. The esteemed Kelvin Celsius left relics to preserve the fire for future generations, ensuring it would continue to grow. We honor his noble will by leaving relics for posterity. Though the face of the artifact was not clear, it exuded palpable pride. The individual lived a fulfilling life and died amongst admiration, leaving no regrets. - Even after death, aiding future generations is the most meaningful demise. Therefore, this artifact remains remarkably stable. Lending power to descendants is its very purpose. - Even if my snowman melts and vanishes, if it brings a smile to someone, Olaf will surely be happy. "You're the one who created Olaf?" - Indeed. A snowman that grows on its own. "It was quite impressive." - Recognizing that! Extraordinary. It was crafted to be an heirloom, hence the special care. I used a sculpting knife to shape it, and even knitted a red woolen hat by hand. A red woolen hat? It was so large I hadn't noticed. Was there something like that? Anyway. Having read his book well enough, I looked around and asked. “So, where is the most important first Celsius heirloom?” - Him? He’s asleep. “Asleep? But you’re already deceased.” - Artifacts don't last forever. Everything in the world deteriorates over time, and relics are no exception. My voice being prominent is likely due to being a recent artifact myself. I offered him disingenuous praise. “That's unfortunate. The most powerful ancestor of the Celsius domain, Kelvin Celsius, surely could have contended for the demon’s seat.” - I agree. Kelvin Celsius would have deserved it. “Even as other regions declined or were destroyed, Celsius remained steadfast. I’ve heard it was due to Kelvin Celsius’s power, and I came to inquire about that secret.” - Is there a need for secrets? Kelvin Celsius's achievements are omnipresent in this domain. We, above all others, are his legacy. In that moment, the mindscape trembled. The largest of the artifacts, which had been silently listening to our conversation, began to vibrate. Kelvin Celsius, the ancestor of the Celsius family who had been resting peacefully, was awakened by the commotion. With a loud stretch, Kelvin Celsius exclaimed: "Enough—! I, I am not that great—!" He cried out, overwhelmed with embarrassment and shame.