Summoned A Hundred Years Too Late

The first floor of the Iron Library was truly vast. So vast that most students spent more time navigating between sections than reading. Calling it a floor was a little misleading, as ladders led to the top of stacks where more ladders and most stacks awaited those who sought knowledge.

Alexandra was on one of those ladders. The third she’d taken on her way to one of the sections closest to the ceiling. The already quiet library had turned completely silent as she headed deeper and deeper into the maze.

One more step. She reached the top of the stacks.

Taking three steps to the right, she followed the direction she’d gleaned from a far-away kiosk almost thirty minutes ago.

The wood of the stacks groaned under her weight. She went slow, hoping that the Keepers inspected those remote corners of the library, lest the whole thing collapse in on itself.

Safeguarding knowledge was a central tenet of their faith, so she decided to trust that they did.

Then again, they didn’t seem to care about Willow and her people stealing books. Or myself.

The path above the stacks took her through several turns, each alley getting narrower than the last, until she had to walk sideways.

Another dozen steps and Alexandra reached a small alcove. The stacks formed a hexagon and reached all the way to the ceiling, only a dozen feet higher than her head.

A ladder lay on the ground next to the entrance, and a table with two chairs stood in the middle. A faint magical lantern hung on the left stack.

Alexandra walked directly to the shelf opposite the entrance and passed her finger on the fourth row.

“There,” she whispered, her eyes locking onto the title of the book she’d been looking for. She pulled it from the shelf, put it down on the table, and sat.

The cover was dusty. She blew on it.

Lifeforce.

The title was straight to the point. She opened it.

The book was large. Too large to read in one sitting, even with her Reading skill. She looked for a table of contents. There wasn’t any.

She looked away for a moment. Then she turned the pages, looking for the author’s name so she could curse them. It also wasn’t listed.

She sighed and started with the beginning.

In essence, lifeforce was what kept living things alive. Plants, animals, humans, fiends—everything alive had some amount of lifeforce.

That’s where it stopped being simple.

Everything else depended on the species and on the individual. As such, the authors acknowledged that lifespan was directly influenced by lifeforce, but not to what extent.

Lifeforce behaved like mana in one respect: it was energy, and it could be spent. Unlike mana, which recovered on its own, lifeforce did not replenish without intervention. The body consumed it passively, simply by living. Over time, the reserve shrank. An elder and a child of the same rank would not share the same capacity.

Ranking up remained the single reliable method of expanding one’s capacity. The mechanism was not fully understood, but the pattern was consistent across every documented species. A Bronze rank held more than an Iron rank. A Silver rank more than a Bronze rank.

Lifeforce could be drawn on directly. Certain spells required it rather than mana or drew from both simultaneously. The book listed no examples, but Alexandra didn’t need one to know what sort of spells it referred to.

Depleted lifeforce was not permanent. High-level healing could restore it. The authors noted one other category of restoration methods, which they referred to as irregular practices.

She reread that line.

Irregular practices.

Lovely. I was just thinking people were not wary of me enough already.

She turned the page and found what she was looking for.

Lifeforce transfer. In other words, Drain Life.

She frowned as she read the page’s content.

Lifeforce was not interchangeable across ranks or species. A Silver rank human’s lifeforce, introduced into an Iron rank, would not yield the full benefit of its origin. The differential worsened the further apart the ranks sat. Using a higher rank’s lifeforce in a lower-rank body produced waste. How much waste, the authors admitted they could not precisely quantify. The inverse was more straightforward: lower-rank lifeforce absorbed by a higher-rank body did almost nothing.

The same principle applied across species lines, independent of rank.

Alexandra sat back.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on NovelFire. Report any occurrences.

It made it clearer why her Drain Life on the Thunder Viper made almost no difference. It wasn’t just lack of time, but both the rank and species difference hurt how much she could take from it.

She put her hands behind her head and looked at the ceiling. Using Drain Life to fuel Dark Bolt or other lifeforce-based spells was out of the question. It would only really work on humans of the same rank as her, and she had yet to see one that wasn’t a literal kid. It would change with time, but she figured it was more likely for her future opponents to be of a higher rank.

She clicked her tongue. Mastering Curse Unraveling and Life Curse seemed like a better bet.

Still, she wanted to recover her lost lifeforce. It would be a waste not to always have her reserves at full capacity for her age. Alexandra wasn’t looking forward to death. Obviously.

She exhaled. Stealing lifeforce from a human wasn’t something she wanted to do. Especially not from a kid, which all Iron ranks were.

So, she’d have to find Iron rank beasts. A lot of them.

Or she could wait until she ranked up to Bronze. Those should be easier to find around Kator.

She summoned her journal.

Daily quests summary: Two Quests Completed -> +20 exp, +1 STR, +1 CON, Skill Quest Unlocked: Spear Mastery.

Daily Quest Streak: 27 -> 29

Level: 3 (140/150)

It was late. She didn’t know how long she’d been in the library. She’d gotten there after dinner with a stock of pastries, and she only had half a dozen left. The quest reset couldn’t be too far off.

One more. One more and she’d reach level four. The last level of the Iron rank.

After that, she’d have to wait twenty days to reach the threshold to Bronze.

She could afford to wait that long.

Alexandra was about to continue her book when she spotted a shadow move near the entrance to the alcove. She squinted. Eyes. There was someone looking at her from the darkness of the alley.

She stood up. “Who are you?”

The person didn’t move. They kept staring at her, eyes unblinking.

“You know I can see you, right?”

No answer.

What’s wrong with this guy?

“I’m talking about you. The one in the alley.”

The figure moved, taking a step forward into the light of the magical lamp. It was a boy. Young, even for an Iron. Grey robes, long blonde hair, hunched posture.

“You’re in my spot,” he said.

She blinked. He didn’t. “Erm, well, I can sit on the other chair.”

“That’s also my spot.”

He didn’t move.

“Well, I need to read books in this section, so you’re going to have to put up with me,” Alexandra said.

His eyes snapped to her book. “Lifeforce?”

Alexandra held up the book. “Well, yeah. That’s the title.”

The boy’s gaze snapped back to her. His eyes were black, and opaque. “Why?”

“Why am I reading it?” She flicked her white hair and showed them to him. “I wasn’t born like this. I don’t mind the color, but I’d like my lifespan back.”

He opened his mouth. “Oh.”

Alexandra bit the inside of her mouth.

“You know a spell that uses lifeforce as its fuel?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. “I do. You too?” She paused. “So you’re not just hiding up here.”

He looked away. Down. Then up. Then behind him.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

He turned back to her. “I do. One spell.”

Alexandra nodded.

“Skill,” he corrected. “I can’t teach it to you.”

“Same.”

She sat back down and pointed at the other chair. “Come on. Let’s talk about it.”

For a moment, the boy stayed still. Then he walked to the chair and sat.

“My skill is named Dark Bolt,” she said. It was barely a secret at this point. “I can share the description if you want.”

The boy shook his head. “I know about it.”

“You do?”

He nodded.

”Where did you hear it?”

”I read.”

She looked at him. ”In here?”

He shrugged.

Silence.

She coughed. “Well, what do you think?”

He looked at her. “Not worth the lifeforce. For most people.”

“I agree. Last resort only.” He didn’t have to know about Life Curse.

“But you used it.” He looked at her hair.

“It’s as I said: last resort. What about yours?”

He looked away.

“Would you use it?” she asked.

“I already did.”

“What do you make of it?”

He didn’t answer for a moment. “I don’t know.”

“Why are you up here, then?” she asked. “If not to use it.”

”Research.”

”Same book?”

He glanced at the copy of Lifeforce on the table. ”I’ve read it.”

”And?”

“It answered some questions. Not all of them.” He looked at the shelves behind her. “There are more.”

Alexandra turned in her chair. The alcove held hundreds of volumes, their spines faded and cracked. She hadn’t looked past the one she’d wanted. ”You checked all of those?”

“Not yet.”

She turned back. He was watching her again with those flat black eyes. She held his gaze. ”So what did you find?”

”That the authors were careful about what they wrote down.”

She grimaced. “Irregular practices.”

”Among other things.”

She folded her arms. He wasn’t going to volunteer anything. Fine. She could work with that. ”Any idea on how to use lifeforce skills without killing yourself?”

“Yes.”

She waited.

“High level healing. You know that if you’ve read Lifeforce.”

“Do you have access to that?” she asked.

“In a way.”

She looked at him.

He looked down at the table. Then at her hair. Then, finally, at his own hands, which were folded in his lap, very still. “Lifeforce Offering. That’s my skill. I can give my lifeforce to other people.”

Alexandra froze.