Richard had always wondered what a Codex, a Grimoire, and an Arcane Art truly were.
Even though he had obtained a Codex, that didn’t mean he immediately understood it. Yet the moment the System boosted his mastery of the Codex of the Dragon Emperor to three percent, a sudden realization dawned on him.
A Codex, he discovered, was a method for absorbing Aether—the essence of magic, the very source of a sorcerer’s power.
Master at least ten percent of it, and only then could one begin absorbing Aether.
There were countless Codices in the world, but they fell into two main categories.
The first was the common category, which itself was divided into varying levels of strength and quality. The higher the grade, the more powerful the Aether one could draw, though the difficulty of training would also rise sharply.
As for Aether itself, it existed in Four Tiers: Tier One shone white, Tier Two was light blue, Tier Three burned violet, and Tier Four gleamed like gold. Each rank surpassed the one before it, but Tier Four was so rare it was spoken of only in myths—no one in living memory had ever witnessed it.
The second category of Codices was far rarer still. These not only allowed one to absorb Tier Three Aether, but also contained unique innate Arcane Arts, powerful techniques etched directly into their structure.
The Codex of the Dragon Emperor, for example. It held three innate Arcane Arts:
—Dragon’s Roar, unlocked at 30% mastery of the codex.
—Dragon’s Wings, unlocked at 50%.
—Dragon Transformation, unlocked only at 100%.
A Codex tied to dragons? That could only mean greatness. Even in this world, dragons were regarded as living legends.
How could a dusty old book sitting in Mr. Joe’s chest be something that granted the power to become a dragon?
Richard’s gaze slid toward the old drunk, suspicion flickering. Perhaps his ancestor had once been someone extraordinary.
"What are you staring at? Don’t pretend you’re actually reading," the old man grumbled, glaring at him.
Richard didn’t bother answering. He couldn’t think of words that would explain.
So now I understand what a Codex is... but what about a Grimoire? And elemental affinity?
Arcane Arts, at least, were no longer a mystery. They were skills—simple as that.
(Your mastery of Codex of the Dragon Emperor has increased from 3% to 4%!)
(Your mastery of Codex of the Dragon Emperor has increased from 4% to 5%!)
Codex of the Dragon Emperor (5%)]
Richard’s eyes widened.
None of his elemental affinities had ever risen five times in a single day. Yet since obtaining this Codex, his mastery was soaring.
This is good. If it reaches ten percent soon, my body will finally be able to absorb Aether.
He was certain the System would assist him in the process—but only once it became possible. For now, it was simply beyond his body’s limits.
Without at least ten percent mastery, absorbing Aether was impossible. Otherwise, his Aether—or even his cultivation realm—would have increased long ago.
Perhaps the other books will tell me more.
Richard picked up one of the thick tomes and flipped to the first page.
(Tale of the Dragon Knight!)
He had suspected this one was a story, but curiosity pushed him to read anyway.
On the second page, an illustration greeted him—a towering man clad in dragon-scale armor, standing amid a mountain of slain monsters. Black dragon wings stretched wide across his back.
On the third page, the story began: a boy from a remote village who encountered a dragon... and learned magic from it.
On Earth, such a tale would be pure fiction. But here, in this world brimming with superhuman power, Richard couldn’t dismiss it so easily.
The boy learned from the dragon not just out of luck, but because of his talent. His affinity for the elements of Destruction, Lightning, and Darkness reached an astonishing ninety percent, allowing him to channel his Aether into these elements in their purest form.
At last, Richard grasped the true meaning of elemental affinity.
It was the innate ability to convert Aether into a chosen element—and the higher the affinity, the stronger that element became. The more affinities one possessed, the broader their arsenal of power.
The tale continued, describing how the boy used these three elements to forge one of the strongest Grimoires in history.
Grimoires, Richard learned, were sacred tomes of magic, created by Magi themselves. They were for the higher ranks—for those who could advance only through their own path.
Low-ranked Magi had no need of such things. It was impossible for them to create one anyway. For them, Arcane Arts were sufficient as battle techniques. The more Arcane Arts they mastered, the greater their chances of one day forging their own Grimoire, since Arcane Arts served as their foundation and inspiration.
Richard read a little more, absorbing both the tale and the fragments of knowledge within. He was satisfied, though curiosity lingered about the Dragon Knight’s adventures.
This was no ordinary story. It was history disguised as myth, and it revealed much about how the world truly worked.
Meanwhile, Mr. Joe had already grown bored and was drinking again, muttering to himself as Richard remained silently engrossed.
(You have gained 2% Affinity with the Cloud Element!)
A new element—again. It had happened so many times before that he no longer felt excited.
[Elemental Affinities: