The Library of Transcendence.

This place is an archive where all the texts I’ve ever read are stored in book form. Naturally, I tend to spend my time here re-reading the books I’ve gone through. After all, no matter how many years I spend here, time doesn’t flow in the real world.

Since I come here by dreaming, it’s more accurate to say that only as much time has passed as I’ve been asleep.

In any case, it was a splendid spot to relax.

“Haha! Long time no see, writer!”
“Oh, yes.”

Except for the occasional alchemist who stops by to chat.

Fortunately, the alchemist and I have a pretty good conversational vibe going on.

Most of our discussions revolve around my plagiarized works or “transcendence.” Thankfully, the alchemist doesn’t really question my vocabulary related to my “past life,” which makes these chats much more comfortable.

For example, I’d talk about how I felt about the works I plagiarized and published.

“Of the pieces I released, the one I found most intriguing is ‘Transformation,’ but personally, I prefer the one that was included, ‘Lawsuit.’ ‘Oyster’ feels too allegorical, and ‘Transformation’ feels too personal. The distance from society in ‘Lawsuit’… just gives me the perfect literary gap.”
“Ah! The prose of ‘Before the Law’ was quite striking!”

We’d have light book discussions about the works we’ve published.

And we dabbled in chit-chat about transcendence.

“When I transcended, a teleport gate appeared at my house, and that’s why wizards have been coming around wanting to build a magic tower where my mansion used to stand.”
“Really? Well, something similar happened to me when I transcended through alchemy.”

“And what did you do, Mr. Gallen?”
“I just let it go! The place I transcended to was an unremarkable workshop used as a backup, and it wasn’t like I had any affection for it anyway.”

“Ah. So now there’s a tower in that spot? Maybe I’ve been there.”
“It’s a place called the Black Tower… Ever been?”

“Oh, sadly, I’ve never been there. I’ve just heard the name.”

And then,

“If you ever go to the Black Tower, I’ll give you a token I got when I handed over my workshop ages ago!”
“A token?”

“They told me to bring it if there’s anything I can help with later, but honestly, I’m not really interested in anything other than alchemy, so I haven’t used it! But since you, Homeros, are still using your earthly identity, it might be useful to you, haha!”
“…Isn’t that a relic from centuries ago?”
“Precisely, it’s just under a thousand years old.”
“Oh, thanks!”

Well, I just added another piece of junk to my collection.

Maybe I should open a museum or something.

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The ‘teleportation gates’ found in every magic tower across the continent are traces of transcendence.

That’s why, ever since I transcended at Frieden Mansion, I’ve had occasional wizards popping up in my room via the teleportation gate. Not just anyone can waltz through, though; it seems only a senior wizard with some serious talent can cross without precise coordinates.

Anyway, this has left me pondering whether I should change rooms. It’s not like there aren’t any available rooms in the Frieden Mansion.

“Ugh, can’t we just seal this hole up with concrete or something?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Imagine if someone came through and got stuck in the wall, dying in a very awkward situation?”

“That’s true, but… hmm?”

A model of the universe. Deep darkness and brilliant light, fading traces of transcendence.

The teleportation gate, conveniently sitting right next to the window, really throws a wrench in the privacy situation.

For instance,

“Who are you?”
“Oh, wow, you recognized me?”

Right now, it’s like there’s this freak just casually chatting next to me.

An intruder barging into my space, trying to have a friendly convo. It’s so absurd that I can’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.

The most outrageous part is that I don’t find this person ‘offensive’ in the least.

It’s normally uncomfortable when someone invades your private space, even if you know them, but I wasn’t feeling any of that. To be honest, I didn’t even feel like there was anyone here with me.

“This is interesting. Is this some sort of mind magic from the Purple Tower?”
“Not quite. It’s more similar to the resonant communication from the Blue Tower. I’m talking to you from here, but I’m not actually present.”

“Really?”
“Nice to meet you, Transcendent of Literature. I’m Quanti Pasparian, Master of the Black Tower.”

The Black Tower?

“Oh, yes.”
“Don’t worry about privacy. I can’t hear anything, see anything, or say anything.”

“But you’re talking to me now, aren’t you?”
“Well, if you think of it as profound silence, it’ll feel pretty loud. That’s how I exist.”

As I frowned, clearly baffled, the self-proclaimed Master of the Black Tower shifted to a softer tone.

“Language is just a means of interaction. Sounds fade quickly, but their substance alters the mind and is etched into the soul, so language exists independently of ‘sound’.”
“So?”

“Then, how can we know if the ‘language’ that the other hears is the same as the ‘language’ I hear? Even the silence of the wind rustling the reeds could sound like an evil spirit to someone else. Sometimes, people can clearly pick out a sentence or their name from a chaotic noise, regardless of what it actually was…”
“Hmm, true.”

“So, when you mix an endless cacophony with eternal silence, the other person will surely find a meaningful ‘sentence’ within it. The language I use is that noise. I have no clue what I’m saying, and I can’t use a language you don’t understand; it’s practically you talking to yourself! So truly, you needn’t worry about privacy.”
“…Okay, so you’re like a ghost or something?”
“Haha! That’s one way to put it!”

Laughing, the Black Tower Master regained his polite demeanor.

His overly formal tone came off almost playfully.

“I’m sure you’ve heard tales of the Black Tower, O lord of literature, regarding being beings who cling to the absurd truth—’If you can’t predict the outcome, then anything can happen’— and that we plunge the world into chaos.”
“I feel like I’ve heard similar stories.”

“That’s a ridiculous misunderstanding. We simply seek the truth, distinguishing ‘ignorance’ from ‘misunderstanding’.”
“Ignorance and misunderstanding, you say?”

“For instance, ‘misunderstandings’ arise not from ‘ignorance’ but from ‘knowledge’. Preconceived notions from experiences and learned knowledge are what create ‘misunderstandings.’ Someone who knows nothing misunderstands nothing. A child who’s never read ‘The Little Prince’ wouldn’t misinterpret a hat for ‘a boa constrictor that swallowed an elephant.’ ‘Misunderstanding’ isn’t synonymous with ‘ignorance’.”
“……”

“And as truth-seeking wizards, we’ve pursued ‘understanding’ and reached one conclusion.”
“What conclusion is that?”

“Truth is like a scale with two balances; the heavier one gets, the lighter the other becomes. The deeper you understand one side, the less you know about the other.”
“Hmm.”

“That’s why we are the ‘black wizards,’ abandoning one wisdom to seek another.”

The long-winded monologue from this fellow calling himself the ‘Black Wizard’ actually seemed worth a listen, but… I didn’t care much for the topic.

After all, I’m no wizard.

So I nodded along and casually asked, “So what’s your point?”

“Oh dear, my introduction was far too long. I’m here to ask you for a favor.”

And thus,

After all that blather,
the proposition put forth by the Black Tower Master turned out to be rather businesslike.

“I’d like to borrow your history to store our ‘records’ in your library.”
“What?”

“Knowledge is ultimately destined to be forgotten, particularly the records from our Black Tower. However, that’s not the case with the Library completed in your own name as the Transcendent of Literature. As long as you’re alive, the Library will remain immortal, seeing as the ‘possibilities’ of literature revolve around you.”
“So, you want a contract to use the library?”

“Simply put, yes.”
“…Ah, got it.”

The ghostly figure of the Black Tower Master.

Turns out, he’s just a salesman trying to get a contract!

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“This token allows you to borrow the power of the Black Tower whenever you want. If you wish to trade one for another, feel free to come by the Black Tower anytime.”
“Ah, I already have one of those.”

“Really?”
“They haven’t changed the design in a thousand years…”