Chapter 14: We Are All Mad!

  "Wait here."

  Primer gave the fish an order, then said goodbye. As he touched the scene he desired, he gradually sank into it, immersed in the past. Memories flashed before his eyes for a brief moment, and then, to his astonishment, he realized his surroundings had completely changed. There was no longer any trace of the River of Time—only a hospital, with firefighters struggling to put out the flames engulfing it.

  "Hidden behind clothes, concealed beneath masks,

  The false nature of people is laid bare and exposed.

  No one recognizes me, for I become one of them."

  "False Identity!"

  Primer silently cast the spell. False Identity was an advanced enchantment capable of altering a mage’s appearance. The change wasn’t permanent, but it could last for centuries. As expected, Primer suffered the spell’s backlash—his right eye was blinded for an entire day.

  "First, my luck was temporarily drained, then an important memory was erased, followed by my left arm being paralyzed, and now one of my eyes is blind... Despite all these negative effects, at least they’re temporary."

  Primer could have used basic illusion magic to deceive ordinary humans and hide his true appearance, but since he aimed to master advanced spells, he had to keep using them. Enduring the suffering along the path was the first step toward progress on a long journey. In truth, Primer had been practicing advanced spells for a long time, and now the backlash only affected him at half its original potency.

  Primer took on the appearance of a frail seventy-year-old man—black pants with leather shoes, a white shirt, and a brown coat draped over it, a wooden cane in his right hand, and a monocle over his blinded left eye. A gaunt, withered old man who seemed to be enjoying his retirement.

  Primer paid no mind to his new guise. His gaze was fixed solely on his younger self, kneeling on the ground in shock, tears streaming down his face. Primer stared at his past self with an expression devoid of emotion.

  No one could tell what he was thinking at that moment. Regret? Sorrow? Longing? No—he wasn’t thinking of anything. He just stood there, staring blankly at the scene before him.

  Hours passed, and Primer witnessed many events—the firefighters leaving, the tearful eyes of the victims’ families, reporters filming the aftermath, and police officers conducting their investigations...

  Yet, suddenly, he heard that familiar voice again, this time much clearer.

  "Welcome, Primer."

  As the words ended, Primer was pulled entirely into a wormhole. The space around him fractured, and then he found himself standing in the freezing heart of Antarctica...

  Where is this?

  He glanced around, and when he turned to look behind him, his jaw dropped in shock. He saw a café—a café with a sign that read "Polar Café."

  A café in the middle of Antarctica?! Well, the creator’s creativity is commendable.

  Primer slowly walked toward the café with his cane, and as he opened the door, he heard the faint chime of a bell. He scanned the room—it was empty, save for one person. A graceful, beautiful woman in her forties, someone Primer knew all too well.

  He was so stunned that his aged, trembling voice could only utter a single phrase.

  "M-Mother?"

  The woman smiled softly, gazing at him with that familiar maternal warmth. Yet Primer remained unconvinced. Hesitantly, he asked:

  "Who are you, really?"

  The woman raised an eyebrow, amused, then laughed.

  "Oh, my mistake. Let me introduce myself properly. I am Isis, your mother."

  Primer was speechless. At that moment, no words could escape his lips. He stood there, dumbfounded, his mind utterly overturned. The weight of those words was so immense that it could render his entire life meaningless. Yet, after nearly a million years, Primer had gained experience and wisdom. His mind was no longer clouded by childish delusions.

  Primer smirked behind his wrinkled, aged face and adjusted his monocle. Mockingly, he replied:

  "Do you really take me for a fool? We both know the truth. My mother was Lucy Rozan, born in 1983—not some ageless monster of unknown origin."

  The smile faded from the woman’s face. Her gaze turned sorrowful, her lips expressionless. Suddenly, her tone shifted, and her appearance transformed from human to something else—a humanoid figure with marble-like skin, three glowing eyes, and long, familiar hair cascading down her back. She looked like a mirror reflection of Primer himself.

  "My time is running out. I have only three months left before I fade. My soul deteriorates by the day, and there’s no repairing it now. I’m sorry, Primer, but I had no choice but to pass my core to you prematurely."

  Primer frowned.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "I don’t understand... What do you mean you gave me your core? Aren’t you immortal? Why is your soul in danger?"

  Isis, now in her true form, sighed and replied in a grating voice:

  "Immortality? Ha. Such a thing doesn’t exist—and if it did, it would be nothing but a curse... Life depends on two things: the body and the soul. If either suffers severe damage, death becomes inevitable. Humans can’t live long because their bodies deteriorate, but even if their bodies were ageless like ours, their souls wouldn’t endure. Exactly like my current state. If I don’t pass my core to a successor and end myself, I’ll become nothing more than a Hollow—a mindless monster. My soul will die, but my body will remain, destroying everything around it without thought. That is what a Hollow is. Our souls erode from time and experience, fracturing from emotional and psychological pain. The core can prolong life and repair the soul, but everything has limits. When that day comes, we die."

  Primer nodded in agreement. He had conducted countless experiments on the nature of the soul and knew it could be damaged. Yet he never expected that even a being as powerful and enigmatic as the core’s creator—the architect of the system—couldn’t escape death.

  "Your explanation makes sense, but it doesn’t answer why, out of all the people in this world, you chose me as your successor. What made me so special?"

  Isis blinked in surprise, then burst into laughter.

  "Hah! You really think you’re special? There was no difference between you and any other human—until you became one of my kind."

  "Then why me? Don’t tell me it was out of pity that you gave me the chance to become a demigod?"

  "Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I pity anyone? There are people in far worse conditions than you. Everyone likes to think their life is the hardest, but for every hardship, there’s a greater one. The grass isn’t greener on the other side, and your life isn’t the worst. Primer, I chose you for one reason alone—fate. Fate is enigmatic and complex, but with the right use of it, one can achieve things few others can. I devised a ritual spell to answer certain questions—questions like, Who will be my successor? Heh, I’m sure I don’t need to tell you the answer, do I?"

  Primer shook his head. He glanced around and asked:

  "Why build a café in the middle of Antarctica?"

  Isis stared out at the white desert beyond the glass. A heavy silence fell, and Primer simply waited. They both gazed at the frozen wasteland outside, their thoughts drifting.

  Peace... What a pleasant feeling.

  "Isn’t it? Heh. That’s exactly why I chose this place."

  "Mind reading?"

  "Upset? Understandable. No one likes their secrets laid bare before a stranger. Heh. You still have a long way to go. Mastering spells takes time, practice, and dedication. Basic magic and advanced spells... Is that really all you’ve learned in all this time? Tsk tsk. It’s not enough. By now, you should’ve mastered ritual spells and artificing..."

  "Ritual spells and artificing? I’ve only theorized about them. What does that have to do with you?"

  "Well, it doesn’t, but you should know they’re necessary for creating a magical world."

  "Hmm? Why would I want to create a magical world?"

  "I’d love to say it’s for godhood, but we both know you don’t care about that. Still, I think this might convince you. Heh... Look at this. Doesn’t its aura feel familiar?"

  Isis pulled out a glowing blue orb from behind the counter. It was covered in white inscriptions in an unknown language, but its function was identical to the Illharian script Primer had invented.

  Primer fell to his knees as he the orb’s gentle, innocent aura.

  "N-Nova?! How is this possible?! Why is his soul inside this orb?! What did you do to him?!"

  "Don’t get so worked up! I just preserved his soul inside this orb to give to you. Fate showed me you’d need this boy, so I made arrangements to ensure his soul reached you safely. Heh. His soul is delicate and... delicious—though I despise consuming souls. Its properties mean he can be reborn. Unfortunately, your parents’ souls were too worn out for rebirth. Anyway, isn’t this boy reason enough to create a magical world?"

  Primer narrowed his eyes.

  "I don’t like paranoia, but anyone in my place would know not to trust a shapeshifting devil! Why are you so insistent on convincing me to create a magical world?"

  "It doesn’t matter to me. This is just advice from a master to her apprentice—because you’re the one who’ll break from loneliness. Why do you think I created the world you once lived in? The answer is simple: worship and escape from solitude. Faith can slow the soul’s erosion and prolong life. Did you know that? Of course not! Yet my loneliness never faded... From the moment I was chosen as successor, I could never understand humans the way I did when I was one. My human emotions faded, and now I’m just an empty shell... Time washed everything away, and my memories of the past are faint... Primer, is this truly our fate? All I’ve seen is emptiness... My only request is that you seek the true meaning of life—the same thing my predecessor, Jensus, once told me."

  "The true meaning of life? Can you elaborate? What does that mean?"

  "I don’t know... I wish I understood it myself... Any other questions?"

  "What is the name of my current race?"

  "Isn’t it obvious? The Cursed Creators, the Forgotten Lords, the Sovereigns of Solitude, and countless other names even I don’t know... It doesn’t matter. Encounters with others of our kind are rare. In my entire existence, I’ve only met eight."

  "So there are others like us? Fine. Next question—how did you create the system and place it in my mind?"

  "System? What are you— Oh, you mean the Inner Realm? And the strange text that appears? Well, it’s different for each of us. The Inner Realm forms based on memories, desires, and personality. Mine is an endless library, and my stats appear in a massive golden book. Jensus’ stats were carved into the stones of a great mountain in white, or so he told me. I heard from Eliana that hers appear as a blue holographic screen in a starry void, and Afranol said his manifest as ancient tiles in a palace. As far as I know, the core provides these stats—meaning the core has a will, but not enough to speak or interact. Need more details?"

  "No, thank you. But why didn’t you make your world magical? Couldn’t you have taught humans magic?"

  "Boy, do you think I didn’t try? I’ve created countless worlds with different rules, but non-magical ones are better in my opinion. Magic breeds stagnation and tyranny—like a savage, primal forest. The choice is yours, though. It’ll be your world."

  "Why was my core at Level 1? There’s no way yours was Level 1. Does the core reset when passed to a successor?"

  "Of course it resets! The core’s level depends on the host’s body and soul, so when those change, the core resets. Oh, let me transfer my knowledge to you—my final gift to my apprentice. Heh, how absurd. I’m a master whose student graduated in less than half an hour. Knowledge Share!"

  Isis snapped her fingers, and a flood of information surged into Primer’s mind—advanced and ritual spells, artificing, abilities, unique creatures, dimensions, mana energy, and magical languages. Primer blinked in shock, suddenly feeling as though he had spent millions of years studying magic.

  "What did you just do?!"

  "Shared my knowledge with you. As for creating life, you’ll learn that with progress. You’ll figure it out. I’m sure you’ve read my scripture—it might help. And remember, don’t overuse the River of Time. Fate can twist, and you might die unexpectedly. Now go. I want to read some new novels before I die. Good luck!"

  "...You’re a little insane, aren’t you?"

  "Insane? Is everyone who doesn’t meet your standards insane? Primer, no one is perfect—otherwise, why would we strive to improve? The value of life for intelligent beings is the ability to make tomorrow better than today. If you expect perfection from the world, you’re mistaken—because perfection exists only in nothingness. Heh... We are all mad!"