The scorched, aromatic fragrance of coffee drifted everywhere.
*Crunch, crunch...*
Crow lost herself in thought amid the stillness, unconsciously chewing on bitter coffee beans.
...The Son of God, having brought back forbidden knowledge, subsequently endured countless tribulations.
Of those tribulations, how many had the spark itself inflicted upon Him?
Yet in the end, having persevered through suffering, Jesus was resurrected, ultimately becoming the King of Kings and God on Earth.
What about Bai Zhou...?
What would he experience? What awaited him at the end of the road?
—Of course, all of this was premised on that blasphemous, little-known esoteric legend being true.
Even if there truly were something to witness, it would surely take place in an unimaginably distant future.
Still, Crow was curious.
She suddenly wanted to see what Bai Zhou would look like standing in that future.
With a sharp *caw*—
The raven let out a cry of pain, catching Bai Zhou’s attention.
It turned out Crow had plucked a feather from it.
*Coo-coo-coo! Coo-coo-coo!* Right now, the raven whimpered in a low, aggrieved voice.
Holding the pitch-black feather tip-down with the vanes pointing up, using it as a quill, Crow walked over to the dormitory door.
*Whoosh—*
The tip swept through the air, trailing a burning line of blazing fire.
Wisps of smoke rising from the flaming nib, she wrote swiftly on the door, and a charred “∞” symbol formed by two intertwined serpent tails appeared upon the surface.
The lights went out, plunging the dormitory into darkness.
“This domain is like an egg, unstained by outside dust.”
Crow murmured an incantation in a low voice:
*“Bloqueo—!”*
In the next instant,
*Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!*
Flames flared to life along the floor, tracing an “∞” symbol as well, resembling two winding fire serpents intertwined head to tail.
The blazing flares connected into a single radiant expanse, magnificent in the darkness.
Firelight swayed amid dense shadows, and in the unlit gaps beyond its reach, twelve heavy, half-real, half-ethereal curtains hung in midair, flickering in and out of sight in the depths of the gloom.
“What is this?”
The atmosphere was eerily quiet. Firelight flickered across Bai Zhou’s cheeks.
In the dim light, Bai Zhou unconsciously held his breath and lowered his voice to speak.
“A ritual of ‘Veils’ and ‘Sealing.’”
“The symbol depicts the self-devouring Ouroboros, symbolizing the severance of internal and external circulation, locking down all information within the domain.”
Crow stood in a dim corner and explained, the firelight elongating her silhouette. “Valuing secrecy is a fine habit for an Extraordinary. From now on, all our conversations and special training will be conducted under this ritual.”
*Do Extraordinaries have to wear cloaks every time they step outside, then...?* Bai Zhou muttered inwardly.
“Actually, I still don’t quite understand. It’s just a single character.”
Bai Zhou lowered his voice, asking with genuine sincerity.
“It’s not a book, nor is it even a full passage... How much esoteric knowledge can it possibly record, and what sort of magic could it hold?”
Just half a stroke had provoked such an immense reaction from the world.
It was absurdly sensitive.
“You must never underestimate the power of any written word, especially in the extraordinary world.”
Crow shook her head, patiently instructing him:
“There is an esoteric legend from the previous century, during the Second World War. In Europe, before it became the Western Federation, German troops occupied Greece.”
“The Syrians neighboring Greece could neither sleep nor eat out of anxiety.”
“So, they visited the Kabbalah Esoteric Cult, renowned for its mystery and power, and received an affirmative response from a priest: ‘Rest assured, the crisis has been averted.’”
Bai Zhou was puzzled. “What did this Kabba... Kabbalah Esoteric Cult do?”
“That priest performed a textual transformation ritual known as ‘Permutation,’ turning the word *Syria* (Syrie) into *Russia* (rusie).”
“In Hebrew, the letter composition of these two words is identical; by merely rearranging their order, Syria became Russia.”
“Astonishingly enough, the German military truly halted their advance into the Middle East and turned their spearhead toward Russia instead.”
“—The Kabbalah Esoteric Cult firmly believed that the magic of language and numbers could achieve impossible miracles: whether extinguishing raging fires or diverting the flames of war elsewhere.”
“At the same time, they were not the only ones.”
Crow continued, “Ancient Viking tribes and the Wiccan Sect prevailing in the northern part of the Western Federation today also revere a type of ‘Rune.’”
“Each rune symbolizes a divine blessing—such as abundance, protection, or victory. By mastering a rune, one can channel that mystical power.”
“—Script is the embodiment of a civilization’s essence. Certain specific scripts may directly serve as vessels for cosmic forces.”
“Some occultists even believe that writing and using script is inherently a ‘ritualistic’ act brimming with power and intent.”
“As for yours...”
In the quiet, dim room, the flames on the floor crackled softly.
Crow looked at Bai Zhou and warned solemnly:
“Even ordinary scripts possess various wonders, let alone the forbidden.”
“I advise you to temporarily halt all exploration of that ancient character. You must take great care not to be corrupted by the taboo.”
“In a world steeped in mystery, one must know to revere power, but even more, one must always revere knowledge.”
*Revere power, but revere knowledge even more.*
Bai Zhou felt this deeply, a wave of lingering fear washing over him.
Who would dare not revere that half of an ancient character?
Did anyone really want to join that black whirlwind and party along with the wailing ghosts?
“Still, from that half of an ancient character, you must have reaped considerable benefits?”
Beneath the flickering firelight, Crow’s voice drifted softly.
“Only within the fog can knowledge give rise to the Light of Knowledge. Awakening the Fate Principle is essentially achieved by absorbing it.”
“Golden motes of light are already exceedingly rare and precious, but according to what you said, what this forbidden half-character produced was no golden mote.”
“It was a seven-colored fire...”
As she spoke, Crow’s gaze scanned up and down the area below Bai Zhou’s navel, making him feel rather uncomfortable.
*Actually, there were golden motes too...* Bai Zhou muttered in his heart.
He just hadn’t gotten around to mentioning them yet.
At that moment, Crow asked her catchphrase-like question once more:
“So, I’m curious—to what height did this unheard-of fire ignite your Fate Principle?”
A glimmer of anticipation surfaced in her ruby-like eyes.
“At the very least, it should have broken past the threshold of three chi, right?”
“It did. It definitely did.”
Bai Zhou nodded, then added somewhat uncertainly, “As for the height of my Fate Principle, it should be five chi, four cun... I think?”
“Five chi, four cun?”
Crow raised an eyebrow slightly and nodded.
“Not bad. That’s already far beyond what I previously expected of you.”
Then, she asked in confusion, “But why are you hesitating? Are you dissatisfied, or is there something else?”
“Because it’s still growing, so it’s hard to pin down the exact height,” Bai Zhou replied honestly. “Right now, it’s almost five chi, five cun.”
“...Growing?”
Crow froze in incomprehension at first, then fell tongue-tied.
Bai Zhou asked tentatively, “Is that not common?”
“...”
Crow shook her head expressionlessly. “At least, I have never heard of such a thing.”
“It’s really all thanks to that ancient character,” Bai Zhou quickly explained. “I’m still digesting the rainbow radiance from it even now.”
Saying this, he felt a bit of regret:
“Unfortunately, the speed at which my Fate Principle is rising has already slowed down. I doubt it can climb much higher... unless I can find the remaining half of the ancient character in the future.”
Yet Bai Zhou wasn’t optimistic about that.
The flames crackled, and the shadows lengthened.
Crow’s voice was not entirely steady:
“You must never disclose this matter to anyone else.”
“The spark...”
She looked at the winding fire serpents meeting on the floor, the swaying firelight shimmering across her face.
Awakening one’s Fate Principle in the Fog of Knowledge, using the mist’s unique Light of Knowledge to elevate its height, after which one’s natural talent remained fixed for life...
This was common knowledge recognized by everyone in the extraordinary world.
She genuinely had not expected that half of a mysterious, forbidden ancient character could possess such an effect.
Risk, indeed, was always accompanied by opportunity.
“It reminds me of Prometheus, the fire-stealer of myth, whose liver was pecked at by an eagle for thousands of years in the end.”
“Forbidden knowledge often symbolizes terrifying secrets. In unseen realms, it will pull ancient things toward your destiny until they intersect at some moment in the future.”
—Just like the blood and fire endured by Jesus.
Every gift from heaven came with a corresponding price.
“Before you can cash in on the opportunities tied to the spark, it may represent, above all, the danger of getting burned by playing with fire.”
“Knowledge is already chasing you from behind, Bai Zhou.”
Crow tilted her head slightly, her gaze looking down at Bai Zhou.
Elongated shadows veiled the firelight on the floor.
She said, “You have yet another pressing reason to grow stronger.”
“Grow stronger...” Bai Zhou instinctively glanced toward the broken spear on the table with its distinct bite marks.
He indeed had plenty of reason to grow stronger.
If he were just a bit stronger, he could go back and take his bloody revenge on that dead fatty.
“...It’s time to begin your special training.”
At that moment, Crow’s voice came from the shadowed corner behind the firelight.
“Merely awakening your Fate Principle hardly makes you an Extraordinary.”
“Combat secret arts, mystic rituals, fundamental knowledge... you are lacking far too much.”
“Caw...” The raven on Crow’s shoulder let out a soft call, as if in agreement.
“You will have to study twice as hard to make up for missed lessons.”
“This isn’t like eating food in the Fog of Knowledge. This is genuine studying. You must mentally prepare yourself.”
The hem of her pitch-black trench coat fluttered slightly, the winding fire serpents coiling at her feet.
The flame light swaying left and right stretched her silhouette infinitely against the wall.
Crow’s expression was indifferent, devoid of ripples:
“In the days ahead, you will likely endure the longest, most grueling period of your life.”
“Yet likewise—”
Crow said coldly,
“Only by passing through this can you take your first steps toward becoming a true Extraordinary, an arcanist, and an occultist!”
“...”
Bai Zhou had to admit, he was drawn in by the dazzling pie Crow was painting.
The flames surging from the floor mirrored his increasingly stirred heart.
“When do we start? Tomorrow?”
“No.” Crow’s answer held not a shred of hesitation. “Right now, of course.”
“—Right now?” Bai Zhou looked down at himself, covered in mud and wearing disheveled, battered clothes.
He had just fled back with his life!
Even a donkey turning a millstone gets a rest, doesn’t it?
Yet Crow continued:
“The Blood Worship Cult won’t wait for you. If we can’t train during the day, are you going to waste the night as well?”
“If the Blood Worship Cult truly chooses this place for retaliation, then before they arrive, you must complete the special training I’ve prepared for you.”
“Only then will you possess the ability to protect yourself.”
The Blood Worship Cult...
Bai Zhou was persuaded.
“Time waits for no one.” He took a deep breath. “Where do we begin?”
Occultism, rituals, potions, extraordinary secret arts...
Those dazzling, deeply enigmatic mysteries were finally lifting their hazy veils before him.
Crow shook her head. “Your foundation is too poor. I still need to organize the system of knowledge before teaching you.”
“Tonight, we’ll start with learning how to use a saber.”
“A saber?”
Bai Zhou wasn’t surprised that Crow would teach him saber arts; after all, she always carried an exaggeratedly massive long saber at her side.
However...
“Where’s the saber?”
Bai Zhou asked, “I don’t have a saber to use.”
“Or could it be...”
As he spoke, Bai Zhou looked hesitantly at the striking long saber in Crow’s hand, feeling a faint glimmer of hope in his heart.
“No, don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ve prepared something else.”
In the dim light, Crow turned slightly sideways, seemingly nonchalantly moving the long saber behind her back out of view.
“What preparation?” Bai Zhou pulled his gaze back in disappointment.
Then, he watched as Crow turned, picked up a nearby iron stool, and without appearing to exert much force at all, gave it a single *snap*—
Just like that, she snapped off a slightly rusted, hollow iron stool leg.
Then, with complete solemnity, she handed the stool leg to Bai Zhou.
“What’s this?”
Bai Zhou took the square iron stool leg, feeling somewhat dazed.
It felt icy in his hand, with a bit of heft to it.
—Yet it was a stool leg.
“In my view, the shape of this stool leg happens to resemble a saber hilt. It’s just right for practice,” Crow said with satisfaction.
“...”
Bai Zhou lifted the rusted stool leg and examined it up and down, suddenly thinking that the broken spear with bite marks wasn’t so bad after all.
“Actually, why do I have to learn the saber instead of something else?”
Faced with this question, Crow’s reply was completely calm and without the slightest hesitation:
“Because I only know the saber.”
“Oh...”
Seeing Bai Zhou’s reluctance, Crow adopted a solemn, serious face and said:
“Do not be fixated on form, Bai Zhou.”
“As long as your breathing rhythm and exertion techniques are correct, with diligent practice, grass, trees, bamboo, and stone can all become blades in an Extraordinary’s hands.”
“—This is the principle of ‘An Extraordinary does not die unarmed.’”
Bai Zhou looked down at the stool leg in his hand while Crow’s earnest admonitions rang in his ears.
—Still, that didn’t change the fact that it was a stool leg.
At that moment, another *snap* echoed in his ears.
Crow bent down and snapped off another stool leg.
Losing half its support, the iron stool crashed to the floor with a clatter, but neither of them paid it any mind.
“First lesson of special training: an Extraordinary must know how to make use of whatever materials are at hand.”
“Be adept at utilizing everything around you, including furniture!”
Weighing the square, cold stool leg in her palm, Crow suddenly spoke:
“Watch closely. This strike—”
Slender, pale fingers gripped the rusted stool leg as though holding a saber and swept it through the air.
With a mere, effortless slash—
*Hum!*
A trail of streaming fire swept across the midair of the dim dormitory.
In the next instant—
With a booming roar, a burning crescent moon of flame erupted from the blade’s edge.
Flames whirled incessantly as the fiery moon rose out of thin air.
This was a miracle named “Fire,” something that should not belong to the mortal realm.
Crow withdrew the stool leg, as if sheathing a saber.
Yet that blooming moon of fire still hung overhead, burning fiercely.
Bai Zhou was struck dumb.
—*What in the world? That came from a rusted stool leg?!*
“[Moon Cinder], a combat secret art on which an Extraordinary once titled [Twilight Flame] built their fame in their early years.”
The ground beneath the moon charred rapidly. Crow flipped her grip on the stool leg and hurled it forcefully toward the fiery moon.
Yet before it could even get close to the moon of flame,
With a booming roar, several plumes of fire surged forth.
In the blink of an eye, the iron stool leg turned into flying ash and drifted to the ground.
“At the introductory level, a single slash can cleave iron. At its peak, one can unleash an inexhaustible moon of flame... just like this.”
“Its power is restrained within, but once unleashed, it could collapse half a dormitory building.”
Her deep black trench coat fluttered softly. Clapping her hands twice, Crow turned to face Bai Zhou.
Raging firelight illuminated her profile.
“—Do you want to learn it?”
*Crackle, pop.* Fiery sparks fell fluttering from overhead, illuminating those calm, iridescent eyes.
Crow said softly,
“If you want to learn, I’ll teach you.”
Chapter 12