For nearly an entire day, Kael was utterly immersed in the vast ocean of magic.
The sheer breadth of arcane knowledge left even Kael awestruck. Despite possessing The Book of Immortality, the insights within these tomes still proved immensely beneficial to him.
In this short span of time, Kael's strength showed signs of further growth, his foundation becoming even more solid.
"The world of magic is truly boundless. If I had assumed that The Book of Immortality alone would allow me to dominate the world, I would have been far too naive," Kael mused inwardly. His heart grew increasingly serene as he wandered through the depths of magic—an experience that was, in itself, profoundly wondrous.
"It's a shame I can only stay in the Eternal Tower for fifteen days. Otherwise, my mastery of magic would surely advance by leaps and bounds..." Kael lamented slightly.
But this was understandable. After all, the Eternal Tower was a legacy left behind by the legendary Star Monarch. If just anyone could enter and leave as they pleased, chaos would surely ensue.
Kael soon finished another book when, suddenly, he paused. In a secluded corner, he spotted a peculiar tome. Its cover was gray, seemingly crafted from the hide of some magical beast. Though inconspicuous, Kael noticed it immediately—because the ring on his finger was faintly glowing, as if responding to the ancient book's call.
"This book... seems connected to my ring..." Kael froze for a moment before swiftly picking it up and carefully opening it.
Among the tens of thousands of books here, his ring had reacted solely to this unremarkable one—naturally, Kael took it very seriously.
Upon opening the ancient book, he found it inscribed in an extremely archaic script—complex, esoteric, and nearly indecipherable. Yet Kael recognized it at once.
"Elvish! This is Elvish!" Kael exclaimed in surprise. The Eternal Tower actually contained a book written in Elvish.
Ever since the collapse of the Elven Kingdom, the elves of the Southern Continent had faded into legend, vanishing from the world's sight. No one knew where the elven race had gone. This magic-proficient civilization had been entirely swallowed by the tides of history.
Kael speculated that the ring in his possession was an artifact passed down by the elves—and very likely, it had once belonged to an Elven King.
The fact that the ring and the ancient book resonated meant this book was undoubtedly extraordinary—and likely contained secrets of the elven race.
Kael flipped through the ancient tome. Its records began with the "Plague of the Undead"thousands of years ago—a time that, in Kael's memory, also marked the elves' disappearance from human sight.
The book recounted how, when the ruler of the Undead Legion, the "Lich King," descended upon the continent, bringing devastation to all living beings, the Archmage Orlando and the then Elven King, Featherfall, led humanity's mightiest warriors and the elven royalty in a decisive battle against the Lich King.
After that great war, the Lich King perished—and the elves vanished without a trace. Soon after, even Orlando disappeared as well.
However, what stood out was that the book explicitly stated the elven race had not perished but had instead migrated elsewhere.
"According to this book, elves might still exist on the continent? But that's impossible—no sightings of elves have been reported for thousands of years..." Kael shook his head in doubt but continued reading.
The deeper he delved, the more astonished he became.
"So the elves truly still exist in this world!" Kael marveled. Based on the book's speculation, the elves must have relocated to a "demiplane"—a pocket dimension similar to ancient ruins.
Moreover, the book even provided an approximate location of that demiplane...
"With this book's guidance, it might actually be possible to find the elves..." Kael wondered who the author could be. He even suspected it might have been Orlando himself.
Regardless, Kael now possessed crucial knowledge about the elves—knowledge that might prove invaluable someday.
After committing all the book's information to memory, Kael began searching through other volumes. "It's said that the Eternal Tower also holds Orlando's personal spell notes. If I could find those, it would be the greatest surprise of all."
Time was limited, so Kael wasted no moment in resuming his search.
While Kael searched for Orlando's spell notes in the Eternal Tower, Zorath the Silent found himself in an entirely different situation.
After arranging accommodations for Kael and the other two, Zorath the Silent immediately made his way to the very heart of the Sacred Council.
There, towering majestically, stood eight arcane towers!
Among them, one stood the tallest—only slightly less imposing than the Eternal Tower itself, yet dwarfing the other seven surrounding it. These seven towers seemed to encircle the central one like stars paying homage to the moon.
The eight spires rose like pillars of heaven, and upon closer inspection, the area within several kilometers was completely devoid of people. This zone was clearly treated as a forbidden sanctuary within the Sacred Council.
This was the highest authority of the Sacred Council!
Each of the seven surrounding towers belonged to a Councilor—seven in total. The remaining five Councilors, being warriors by profession, had no towers here.
It was widely known that the height of a mage's tower reflected their status, power, and mastery of magic.
And the tallest eighth tower? That belonged to the Grand Archon Berg, the supreme leader of the Sacred Council!
Zorath the Silent took a deep breath, then abruptly moved—striking a massive bell placed before the eight towers. The resonant toll echoed, and within moments, seven figures materialized simultaneously.
"Zorath the Silent… you? What matter is so urgent that you've sounded the Council Bell, untouched for over a decade?" A white-haired elder in voluminous robes snorted, his tone laced with displeasure. His staff pulsed with surging mana, a clear testament to his formidable power.
"Bjorn, of course I have something significant!" Zorath the Silent replied patiently to the questioning. "The reason I sounded the Council Bell is to discuss a matter of great importance."
"Zorath the Silent, you've always been steady and composed. It seems this truly must be extraordinary." Hearing his words, one of the figures—a stunningly beautiful woman who appeared no older than thirty—grew solemn. Her grace was enchanting, her poise mesmerizing.
Her skin remained flawless, untouched by time, as pristine as a maiden's. Were it not for the mature elegance in her bearing—something no young girl could replicate—one might mistake her for being in her twenties.
Of course, once mages and warriors reached the Eighth Rank, they could preserve their youth, making age difficult to discern.
"Mia, you always understand reason." Zorath the Silent smiled in approval, earning a disdainful snort from the mage named Bjorn.
By now, all the other mages had gathered, assembling in full.
"Zorath the Silent, what exactly have you called us here for? Speak quickly!" Bjorn demanded, his voice sharp as the others waited.
"Patience." Zorath the Silent waved a hand leisurely. "We'll discuss it in detail once the Grand Archon arrives."
"What matter could possibly require the Grand Archon's presence?" Even Bjorn was taken aback, his hostility fading. Anything significant enough to summon the Grand Archon was undoubtedly grave.
Currently, the Grand Archon Berg was in seclusion. Unless the matter was critical, disturbing him was strictly forbidden.
Within the Sacred Council, Berg's authority was absolute.
Realizing Zorath the Silent must have something monumental to report, Bjorn settled into uneasy silence.
Then—a faint chime echoed from the tallest spire.
A moment later, a subtle yet pure, liquid-like wave of magic rippled through the air.
A middle-aged man in white robes materialized before them.
"Greetings, Grand Archon."
"Greetings, Grand Archon."
The Councilors, wielders of immense power within the Sacred Council, all rose and bowed in respect.
The man's gaze was calm as the ocean—serene enough to embrace all things, yet capable of overturning everything in fury. His features were unremarkable, yet his presence seemed imbued with magic itself.
This was the Grand Archon of the Sacred Council—Berg!