CHAPTER 52: LIBRARY OF ASTRAL-TALE [1]

"Listen closely," the invigilator said, raising a hand.

"Don’t let the books here fool you. You are not here to read, or take any written examination."

Everyone already knew that. The moment they stepped foot inside the Astral-Tale Library, they felt something was different.

A majestic cosmic ceiling, and the lifeless book-birds, they were all something that an ordinary library would never have.

Waiting for the invigilator to finish, every focus gathered on him.

"This is called the Library of Astral-Tale, a place where the heroic tales of brave warriors from the era of the Great Calamity War were stored. Some sad, some happy, some pitiful, some regretful, and some sorrowful... every book you see here tells the tale of each individual."

To his words, everyone looked around.

From common sense alone, anyone could tell that the library held more than a million records in the proper format of a story stored in every book.

"You are telling me..." one student gulped at the fact, "these books are the tales of each warrior who fought in the war?"

The invigilator nodded before continuing.

"Yes, and these stories will be the ones that decide your class."

Everyone exchanged looks. Some with confusion, some with terror, some with doubt, and some with excitement.

But they were all clueless about how these books would decide their class allotment.

"Don’t tell me our class will be decided on the basis of how many books we remember?"

One of the students guessed, sending a wave of panic through his cluster.

"Ehh?! If that’s the case, then I am done for!"

"Haah... I can’t recall what I ate last night, how the hell would I remember a whole ass book?!"

"Hey, don’t be stupid."

As the chatters began to grow, the invigilator barked.

"Silence, or be prepared to be disqualified!"

In an instant, the library drowned in involuntary silence.

"Now then, if we may." The invigilator raised his hand and caught one of the flying books with no effort at all.

Thump—!

The book landed with a dull sound, and as it did, the restless flapping of its covers stopped. What was flying just a moment ago, now looked like an ordinary book.

Leon kept his eyes fixed as the invigilator began explaining the terms of this examination.

In the game’s storyline, Ethan was in S-rank class along with the rest of the main cast, while Leon was pushed into D-rank.

This exam was also one of the earliest quests in the game, the one that would let Ethan obtain [Moonblade]. The weapon once crafted and wielded by the Silvermoon Goddess during the great war.

The [Moonblade] carried peculiar effects for its wielder.

It could multiply stamina many times over, inflict grave harm even with a shallow cut, and above all, channel [Light Mana] with flawless fluency making it the perfect weapon for Ethan.

But despite its cheat-like effects, no player in existence had ever truly used the [Moonblade].

Not because better weapons existed, but because every strike from it would consume more than 90% of the player’s mana.

That made the weapon one of the most foolish things to use in a real battlefield.

Even now, when this was no longer a game, Leon was certain that Ethan would rarely ever draw that weapon.

But Leon knew exactly how the mechanism of the [Moonblade] worked.

And if that was the case, then the [Moonblade] could just as well fall into the hands of another suitable candidate.

A grin spread across his face.

’...and what’s a better suitable candidate than me.’

Clearly none.

Leon wasn’t acting without a plan; he had another path in mind, one he truly wanted Ethan to follow.

The invigilator held the book in front of the students, letting them see what was written on it.

On a black cover, golden letters gleamed:

[The Chronicles of the Red Priest Warrior]

"Ah, I have heard that name."

"Hey, isn’t that Red Priest the same one in our history book?"

Several voices rose among the students. They all knew what the ’Red Priest’ in the title represented.

Silencing them again, the invigilator continued.

"As you all have noticed, this specific book in my hand is a story featuring the Red Priest from the Great Calamity War, the right hand of the ’God of Wisdom.’"

At the mention of ’God of Wisdom,’ most of the students straightened in their seats.

’God of Wisdom’ was one of the Five Calamities, alongside the ’Silvermoon Goddess’, a human who had been raised to the status of God by her believers.

And just like the Blood Tower, the God of Wisdom presided over his own calamity tower: the ’Sunborn Tower.’

The invigilator went on after a brief pause.

"For the Class Allotment Examination, you won’t be swinging swords or throwing spells against each other. Instead, you’ll step into the past. The Library has a peculiar gift—it allows your soul to enter one of its records. In other words, you’ll live inside a story."

A murmur spread through the hall.

The invigilator ignored it and continued.

"Your stats, skills, affinities, and weapons will remain the same as in real life. The difference is that you will not be the protagonist of that era’s tale. The record already has its protagonist. You will only stand at the side with your current self."

"What do we have to do?"

It was Ethan who asked this question.

"Your role is to ease the burden of the protagonist, to steer them closer toward their dream, and to do it in ways different from what the record remembers. The more clever your choices, the greater your evaluation."

The room fell into uneasy silence.

A student asked, tilting his head,

"What would happen to the body if we all die?"

At those words, the invigilator seared at him and said,

"It’s just an Allotment Exam, there was no need for that question. But, anyways... if one were to die in the story, you will simply be thrown out of the book to the real world, and worse, receive a failing grade in the exam."

Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

"The Astral-Tale Library has no librarian. You must choose on your own which story you want to enter."

The book-birds that had been fluttering across the vast hall suddenly froze mid-flight. One by one, they rested into their racks, as if the Library itself had acknowledged the trial about to begin.

"Oh, and one last thing," the invigilator added, "you must go in groups of two, and those have already been decided for you beforehand."

Another invigilator came forward, holding a piece of scroll.

He instructed, before reading its content.

"All of you must pair up according to the name, I will be calling."