Being a dedicated reader of "Fourth Apocalypse", Charles understood its power system very well.

In fact, he understood it so well that he had once created a Wikipedia page dedicated to it back on Earth.

Although even he didn’t possess absolute knowledge, he knew enough to recognise one thing immediately.

He was absurdly overpowered.

"Editor" was a class he had never seen before. Still, the name alone told him a lot.

An editor’s job was to alter a story, directing it towards it’s final product. If an Author could create reality, then an Editor could alter it.

This explained why his potential was so astronomically high!

Charles’ eyes drifted down to his spell list.

Editor’s Authority. A Supreme Grade spell. The highest grade he knew of.

According to the description, it allowed him to impose temporary laws upon reality itself.

Just reading it made his heart race.

Of course, such power wasn’t free.

In Fourth Apocalypse, casting a spell above one’s grade came with consequences.

One grade above would weaken the spell.

Two grades above would cause immense pain and risk a backlash.

Three grades above was when things became truly dangerous. Mutations would be introduced.

These were permanent defects of the mind or body that could only be removed through long-winded methods.

Some of them were merely inconvenient, whilst others would change your life entirely.

Charles remembered one side character who had grown an additional stomach and needed twice as much food just to survive.

Another had lost the ability to recognise faces, eventually forgetting what his own wife looked like.

The stronger the spell was, the greater the risk was.

Normally, a Novice would never even dream of touching a Supreme Grade spell. But Charles wasn’t exactly a normal novice.

His eyes shifted toward the unconscious woman lying on the bed.

Charlotte had gifted him something ridiculous.

Author’s Mana Circulation. A Supreme Grade technique.

Mana circulation techniques acted as the bridge between a person and their spells.

Without the correct circulation method, many spells simply couldn’t be cast.

Some techniques even allowed users to utilise powers above their natural grade.

This was one of them.

Using a technique beyond one’s grade still carried drawbacks. Things such as physical pain, hunger, and exhaustion

But unlike spells, it wouldn’t cause mutations. So in other words...

I can actually use Editor’s Authority, whilst only suffering a little bit.

Charles looked at Charlotte again.

At that moment, he wanted to lean forward and embrace her, thanking her for this gift.

Fortunately, his common sense told him not to.

Did she sacrifice her own strength to give me all of this?

The thought lingered in his mind.

Then he remembered something.

As an up-to-date reader of the novel, he knew of a method that allowed people to inspect the systems of others.

His gaze settled on Charlotte.

According to the novel, focusing on the crown of a person’s head would cause a translucent crystal to appear.

Once that happened, information could be viewed through it.

A moment later, a crystal materialised.

Charles immediately frowned. The crystal was completely shattered, hovering above her head in little shards.

The shards floated together as though they struggled holding their shape.

I’ve never heard of this before. Not in all of the 700 Chapters that I’ve read.

The sight bothered him. It only brought more questions to his mind, and nobody capable of answering them.

After a few moments, Charles gave up trying to understand it for now.

Instead, he turned his attention toward the rest of the room.

Charlotte’s bedroom was exactly what one would expect from a palace. It was large, elegant, and surprisingly empty. Other than the bed, there was only a desk and a single chair.

Charles approached the desk, where he found a notebook resting on it, with a feather beside it.

Its cover read:

"The Fourth Apocalypse."

His eyes widened slightly. Was this the original manuscript?

Without thinking, he reached for it, wishing to read it’s contents. However, the notebook didn’t move. It was as though it weighed a thousand tons.

Author privileges, I guess.

Giving up, he looked elsewhere.

That was when he noticed a small glass vial resting beside the desk. It has been drained of most of its contents.

Only a single droplet remained inside.

Charles picked it up.

The moment he focused on the droplet, his system responded.

「Blood of Blue Dragon」

A blue dragon?

Charles scratched his head.

That was impossible.

Dragons existed within the novel, but they had barely been explored.

They were mythical creatures blamed for causing the Fourth Apocalypse itself.

Since civilisation had begun rebuilding, most were believed to be dormant. Not the main character, or any of the side characters of the novel had ran into one, no matter how many towers they cleared.

Could Charlotte need this to survive?

His gaze went back toward the bed.

If that’s true, then where is she getting it?

The tower?

The upper floors?

Could she really need to travel somewhere so dangerous, just to get her medicine.

His thoughts returned to Charlotte’s final words.

My husband.

The phrase still felt absurd. He didn’t understand what she meant.

As far as he knew, she wasn’t some publicly recognised queen whose marriage carried political significance. Nor did she seem like someone who had summoned him simply because she was lonely.

If that had been her goal, surely she could have chosen almost anyone.

There had to be another reason. He simply didn’t know it yet.

Eventually, Charles walked back to the bedside.

The woman looked even more fragile now. Like she might pass away if left alone for too long.

For some reason, seeing her like that bothered him. Perhaps more than it should have.

"You called me your husband... so I’ll treat you like my wife."

His gaze lingered on her sleeping face.

"At least until you wake up and explain what that actually means."

With that, Charles turned and headed toward the door.

If Blue Dragon blood really was keeping Charlotte alive, then that was where he would start.

It was time to head down to the 99th floor.