Hey everyone,
I've been thinking a lot lately about where to continue sharing my stories. After trying out other platforms, it feels like things just aren't working out the way I hoped. So, I'm seriously considering reopening my Patreon account again.
This time, though, I plan to keep things a little cleaner — I won't be uploading the spicy or R-rated chapters there anymore. I want to focus on storytelling, worldbuilding, and giving you all consistent updates without worrying about content restrictions.
What do you all think? Would you still be interested in supporting and reading on Patreon if I relaunch it that way?
Your feedback really matters to me — it'll help me decide the best direction to take moving forward.
Thank you all for sticking with me through everything. Your support means more than words can express. 💛
*****
{Chapter: 228: Stealing Knowledge}
As soon as Dex stepped through the grand archway into the library, the servant stationed near the entrance immediately took notice. His eyes lit up with recognition—perhaps not of Dex himself, but of the unmistakable aura of power and wealth that clung to him like a mantle.
He quickly approached, bowing slightly as he offered a courteous smile. "Welcome, sir. Is this your first time visiting the Augusto Grand Library?"
"Yes," Dex responded curtly.
The servant nodded, well-versed in handling first-time visitors. He gestured for Dex to follow and began his explanation in a clear, practiced tone.
"Please allow me to explain our regulations. Unless you undergo an official assessment, you may only access knowledge classified at Level Three or below. The entry fees are as follows: 50 silver coins grants access to the first floor, 1 gold coin for the second, and 5 gold coins for the third floor. However, please note—entering a floor does not grant unrestricted reading rights. Books containing advanced or rare knowledge require an additional reading fee, assessed individually. I hope you understand, sir."
Dex didn't bother to question the system. He simply reached into his pouch and casually tossed several gold coins into the servant's hands. "That should cover the entry for the first three floors."
The servant's eyes widened slightly at the generous payment but quickly composed himself. "Of course, sir. Everything is in order."
With a respectful nod, he motioned Dex further in and continued to speak as they walked down a wide, marble-tiled corridor lined with softly glowing runes.
"If I may offer a suggestion, sir: if you're seeking knowledge beyond the basic levels, I would recommend applying for an official review. With a proper evaluation, you can earn advanced access credentials, tailored to your strength and status. It would make your future visits much more efficient."
Dex gave a dismissive wave of his hand.
"Not interested. Not for now."
It wasn't that he lacked interest in higher-level knowledge—on the contrary, Dex was always hungry for power and insight. But the mention of a "review" sounded far too tedious and bureaucratic for his taste. He had already endured magical inspections and ritualistic verifications just to enter the city. He could only imagine what further nonsense they'd concoct to grant higher access.
He had no patience for being probed, scanned, or subjected to meaningless interrogations.
Besides, Dex understood something most others didn't: true knowledge, divine knowledge—the kind that transcended mortal understanding—was never housed in public institutions like this. The kind of truths he sought were often passed down in whispers between apex beings, traded in private pacts, or buried in vaults that had never known the light of day.
As for demigod-level knowledge? It was useful, yes—but not essential. It was something he'd collect if convenient, discard if not.
To Dex, basic knowledge still held significant value. He had already reached a level of power where his abilities formed a near-perfect synergy, his magical foundation more complete than most beings would ever achieve. His strength wasn't raw and chaotic—it was refined, balanced, and without obvious flaws.
If there was any flaw at all, it was that his demonic mind had a tendency to grow restless…
At this stage, while he couldn't claim to possess the innate, god-given wisdom of the ancient beings, his analytical mind and deep intuition allowed him to deduce the deeper workings of any system from its most basic parts. A leaf was enough to understand the tree; a single pattern could reveal the design of the whole.
With enough foundational knowledge, supported by his exceptional abilities, he could trace the logic of this world's magical hierarchy and uncover its secrets without anyone's permission.
And he already had an advantage.
He had slain several demigods of this realm—and from their dying minds, he had extracted their training methods, experiences, and accumulated insights. He had turned each of them into learning templates, carefully studying their strengths and weaknesses to refine his own path forward.
When he had visited the city of Midas, it had taken him only two months to devour the entire library's collection—without drawing the attention of a single librarian.
But that library had been small. Child's play, really. Compared to what he needed, it had been nothing but an appetizer.
Dex pushed open the door to the first floor.
His eyes immediately widened in appreciation.
Rows upon rows of bookshelves stretched into the distance, each shelf towering high and packed with neatly ordered tomes, scrolls, and records. They were categorized by school, by rank, by era—each section practically humming with the weight of accumulated knowledge.
He let out a low whistle.
From a quick glance, he estimated tens of thousands of bookshelves, with each shelf holding hundreds of texts. It was clear now—this was no ordinary archive. This was a true vault of magical study, a cornerstone of the so-called Magician's Kingdom.
Compared to this place, the libraries in minor cities like Midas weren't even worthy of the name. At best, they were glorified record-rooms. A proper mage wouldn't even bother glancing at their pitiful collection.
While Dex scanned the impressive layout, the servant beside him pulled a floating crystal tag from the air and handed it over.
"Sir, this is your entry and exit permit. It's already registered with the Tower Spirit. As long as you have it with you, you may move freely between the first, second, and third floors without further inspection. If there's anything else you require during your stay, feel free to call upon any of the library attendants."
Dex accepted the tag, nodding slightly.
"Thanks. That'll be all."
As the servant bowed and stepped away, Dex turned his gaze toward the endless shelves and breathed in the faint scent of aged parchment and mana ink.
His lips curled into a faint, knowing smile.
After casually hooking the sign around his waist, Dex paid no further attention to the attendant and wandered off toward the nearest bookshelf. He reached out nonchalantly, pulled a book from the shelf, and began leafing through it.
Seeing this, the attendant didn't linger. Without another word, he turned and left silently, disappearing into the rows of knowledge.
The book in Dex's hands bore a humble title: [100 Methods of Planting Fragrant Flower Trees.]
On the surface, it was utterly mundane.
And in truth—Dex confirmed after a brief glance—it was completely useless. Judging from the price listed on the cover—just a single copper coin—it was clearly a book for commoners. In the grand scheme of arcane literature, it barely rose above the level of kindling.
But Dex hadn't picked it up for its content. Not really.
He was interested in something else entirely: the magical detection scripts hidden within.
Rather than reading about tree pruning or seasonal planting tips, his attention was focused on the microscopic runes embedded into the book's spine and page corners—carefully analyzing the system used by the Tower Spirit to monitor knowledge consumption.
He finished the first analysis quickly and moved on. After purchasing another inexpensive book, he started the process again.
And again.
And again.
More than twenty books later, Dex finally began to see through the layers of security.
The library's surveillance mechanism wasn't based on any consistent logic. Instead, each book contained a random pair selected from an unknown array of detection spells. These were then magically synced to the overarching Tower Spirit, a central consciousness responsible for monitoring the integrity of the knowledge archive.
Any attempt to access the protected information—whether by eye, mind, or spell—would cause the defensive enchantments to trigger, immediately alerting the Tower Spirit. If the proper access fees hadn't been paid, the user would be forcibly removed from the premises, no questions asked.
Frankly, to Dex, the entry and reading fees were trivial. He had more than enough gold to pay his way through even the most exclusive magical academies.
What concerned him was the pattern. Or rather, the lack of one.
The randomness of the spell pairings meant that every book posed a new potential risk. If the Tower Spirit started noticing a suspicious trend—like someone analyzing dozens of seemingly worthless books in quick succession—it might start digging deeper. It might start asking questions.
That was the real danger.
After all, Dex wasn't exactly... traceable.
As a mysterious "three-eye" individual with no official records, no public history, and no national affiliation, his presence was an anomaly. And the last thing he wanted was to attract attention from organizations that specialized in dissecting anomalies.
Sure, he'd taken measures to mask his presence. He'd covered his tracks. But even the best camouflage could crack under pressure—especially in a nation like this one, where magic was more common than rain, and the number of powerful individuals could be measured in the tens of thousands.
Here, there would be someone strong enough to pose a threat to him. The odds were simply too high to ignore.
Until he had a complete grasp of the magical surveillance system and understood the upper limits of local strength, Dex would avoid anything that could be classified as "abnormal behavior."
He was powerful, yes—but not arrogant.
So far, he had avoided causing a stir. He didn't live quietly, but he lived carefully. Even if certain parties had begun to take interest in his origins, they couldn't figure him out. He was too strong to be easily approached, and he lacked any visible goals that might stoke their greed or fear.
To them, he was a puzzle.
To him, they were irrelevant—so long as they stayed out of his way.
But that delicate balance could shatter here, in the heart of a magician's nation.
So he moved cautiously.
After thoroughly inspecting dozens of low-level books, he finally reached a conclusion: the Tower Spirit didn't consider this category of knowledge important enough to assign heavy surveillance. On this first floor, the defensive enchantments were minimal. Aside from a floor-wide magical scan that pulsed every three seconds, each book was only protected by two modest layers of detection spells.
With a bit of finesse, Dex could slip past them without leaving a trace.
"Once you understand the workings of a lock," he mused inwardly, "forging the key becomes inevitable."
It was time to act.
Without any outward sign of effort, he unleashed the full scope of his mental power and a very useful spell—an immense force, honed by experience and amplified by inhuman intellect. It expanded outward invisibly, transforming into tens of thousands of thin, precise tendrils, each one like a ghostly finger reaching into the shelves.
These tendrils delicately bypassed the enchantments, slipping between spell layers and drawing information directly from the pages without ever triggering an alarm.
Every piece of recorded knowledge—words, diagrams, formulas—was siphoned directly into Dex's mind at a speed far surpassing what any eye could read or computer could copy.
But he didn't try to understand it immediately.
That would be inefficient, even for him.
Instead, he stored the information in mental partitions, like files organized in virtual folders, each one tagged and sorted according to subject and category. The data remained inert, unopened—like a game downloaded but not yet installed.
Only after leaving this place would the real work begin.
Only then would he study.
For now, the priority was acquisition—quiet, thorough, and invisible.
Dex kept going, feeding his mind with everything he could reach—his gaze calm, his breathing steady, as if he were just another casual reader browsing light novels in the garden section.
But beneath that surface... a storm of intelligence raged silently.