“Have I already read it all?”
I looked down at the paper in my hand.
Thanks to the security and preservation magic I had meticulously cast, it was harder than steel.
It could withstand even a turtle stepping on it and would undoubtedly remain in its current state for a hundred years.
I gently stroked the paper’s edge.
It felt like I had just started reading, yet here I was, reaching the end once again.
I wondered how much time had passed.
Sensing my curiosity, the mirror bug appeared and informed me of the current time.
It was 4 o’clock.
This careful reading had taken me two hours.
Two hours to read just this single sheet of paper.
If I hurried, I could finish it in less than ten minutes.
Yet, the moment I started reading, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from a single word.
Even so, this was the fastest I had ever read it.
I recalled the first time I read it.
It was two weeks ago, on my way back from Professor Heisen’s tower.
Out of curiosity, I had unfolded this paper.
And when I came to my senses, I was here.
Nearly two days had vanished.
***
Closing my eyes, I slowly recalled what was written on the paper.
Once again, I was filled with awe.
Even after reading it thirty times, the paper still held countless things I had not yet noticed.
‘How could so much be contained in just a single sheet of paper?’ It was incomprehensible.
I quietly opened my eyes.
The aftertaste of the text still lingered.
Before this realization faded entirely, I began reading again from the first line.
Time vanished in an instant, and the tree in my heart grew as it absorbed new insights.
What beautiful writing this was.
Reading, reflecting, and understanding—the process repeated countless times.
At last, I was able to grasp most of it.
A strong power coursed through my body.
I opened and closed my hands, sensing the powerful roots that had taken hold.
These roots, spreading throughout my body, intertwined with shadows, embodying a strange duality of reality and illusion.
It felt as though not only my body but also my soul and mind were entwined with these roots.
I observed my heart.
There stood a massive tree.
The previous frail appearance was nowhere to be found.
Through countless realizations, the tree had restored its flesh.
Not only had it regained its former appearance, but it had grown even larger.
With my elevated state, it now stood proudly on my much-expanded foundation.
Beneath the tree, a soft shadow lay.
The shadow tree had grown deeper, wider, and more comforting.
It rested on the foundation, reflecting stars within it.
The two trees together appeared like a tree growing from the night sky itself.
This was the image I had dreamed of, the form my tree had desired.
But I could not be satisfied yet.
This text made me aware of three shortcomings I still possessed.
I lacked magical power, my knowledge was shallow, and my will was weak.
Professor Heisen had written a simple method within the text.
It was called the Shadow Root Technique.
The method I had previously used was taught by Ojo.
It was the Nutrient Accumulation Technique, something every magician knew.
Frankly, it wasn’t even suitable for someone at the Sapling Stage.
I had learned it back in the Germination Stage.
Yet, I had relied on it to gather magical power because I had no other choice.
Outside the university, I hadn’t even glimpsed such techniques.
‘How could a wandering magician access something so valuable?’
Cultivation techniques were treasures refined over long years, unattainable with mere gold.
Thus, wanderers, no matter how much they advanced, sustained themselves with subpar techniques.
I was no exception.
At the university, I could at least observe them, though their price was exorbitant.
The most basic techniques cost over ten thousand points, and the price rose with each level.
Professor Irien had shared a few techniques with me in the past.
However, they were far too advanced.
Back then, and even now, I could not understand their content.
She knew nothing below those levels, for she only collected things of value.
To someone like me, this Shadow Root Technique was a godsend.
Through it, my tree rooted itself anew, blending with the shadows, culminating in its current form.
This helped alleviate my lack of magical power somewhat.
‘What, then, was knowledge?’ Magic begins with knowing.
Without understanding, no matter how vast one’s magical power, magic could not be used.
Before meeting Professor Irien, I knew very little.
I merely studied a few stray spells from underground auctions, repurposing them into something usable.
I dared not seek anything beyond that.
Professor Irien taught me so much—magic, knowledge, history, and more.
Her books contained all of this, enabling me to become a somewhat competent magician.
But that was the world outside the university.
Within its walls, I was just a common low-level magician.
Compared to others, my knowledge was shallow and insignificant.
‘How crude must the magic I created have been?’ From the simple flow Professor Heisen had written about my self-generation magic, I discovered countless points for improvement.
Professor Heisen had written a piece of advice below it: [If you abandon the pursuit of knowledge, you cannot move forward.]
When I thought about it, it made sense.
‘How much magic had I truly mastered since arriving at the university?’ I could barely recall learning any new spells.
The most recent ones I had read were a few old magic books tucked away in the third-floor library.
Even then, I only skimmed through them without fully understanding.
After coming to the university, I had been so consumed by surviving each day that I forgot many things.
And then there was the matter of my weak will.
The will he referred to was not mine but that of the entities created within the shadows.
It tied into the earlier discussion.
Because my magical power was lacking, the energy forming them was insufficient.
Because my knowledge was shallow, the magic that formed them was crude.
And because my will was weak, the central trunk of the tree that supported them held only fragile strength.
As a result, only such feeble wills came into existence.
He had written about the direction in which these wills could be cultivated, infusing it with the trial and error he had experienced.
Through endlessly revisiting the writings on this paper, I came to understand what I lacked and how I should proceed.
With a heart full of gratitude toward Professor Heisen, I bowed toward the paper.
I needed to nurture these star-like wills embedded in the shadow tree.
As they grew, my tree and unique magic would undoubtedly become perfected.
When I reached that end, I had a feeling I would glimpse the next stage.
The question was how to nurture them.
When I learned to cook, these selves grew somewhat accustomed to cooking.
When I practiced puppetry, they learned how to handle puppets as well.
Like this, these selves grew by feeding on my experiences and knowledge.
For that, I had to learn and acquire many things.
But it wasn’t enough.
I had only one body, and to nurture them all would take centuries—an impossibility.
I used to feel hopeless about this situation.
Professor Heisen, however, showed me a clear solution through his writings.
It was something I had already witnessed firsthand in his lectures.
During his lectures, he distributed shadows to many students.
These shadows absorbed the experiences and knowledge of their hosts, forming a perfect likeness of their owners.
Over a thousand years, this method had been used by at least sixty thousand magicians.
He classified these shadows as either “pass” or “fail.”
The failed shadows, upon retrieval, merged into the shadow world.
There, they became more complete shadow entities, forming the foundation of that realm.
The successful shadows stayed with their masters, growing alongside them.
When their masters passed away, the shadows returned to the shadow world.
Reading about this simple system in the text filled me with awe.
What a flawless method! If I couldn’t do it alone, I could enlist others to help.
I needed to follow this approach.
The question was how.
I couldn’t create perfect shadows like Professor Heisen, nor could I construct a shadow world.
But I quickly realized that this concern was unnecessary.
I was already achieving it, albeit in a small way—through my puppets.
Those more skilled than I were already nurturing shadows within this tower.
Shadows inhabited the puppets and observed their masters.
Through their observations, the shadows adopted the forms their masters desired.
Professor Irien’s butler and Cassian’s bear puppet were examples of this.
The more attention their masters gave them, the more they grew.
In this way, their initially weak wills absorbed their masters’ experiences and knowledge, evolving into unique forms.
Still, problems persisted.
The changes were too subtle.
There needed to be a way to amplify them.
I found that possibility in the mirror bug.
Using the bulletin board was the solution.
If they were made to write on it, all of their content would surely accumulate within my shadow tree.
Even the smallest details didn’t matter.
As long as everything was stored there, the observing selves would grow as well.