Fire Mage-Chapter 648: Poet Griven

Chapter 648: Poet Griven

The final tier—Mastery—belonged to just one being.

The Dream God’s Corpse Devourer. A young version of Phoebe.

Even if he’s just a projection, he wields the power of a Demigod. I can’t defeat him without a plan.

Charles frowned, his third eye narrowing.

I need to enter the palace. But how?

I could become a famous poet. Compose a song that captures the city’s heart.

He quickly dismissed the idea.

No. My singing could give the Sage Heroes a heart attack.

Next idea.

Kill one of the Nine Poets. Take their identity. Infiltrate the palace.

But then what?

I can’t stay long. That plan’s too risky.

He exhaled slowly.

For now, I need to find the bracelet. Then I’ll act.

His eyes lit with resolve.

My next destination is the Library of Sages. But I should return home first. No need to raise suspicions.

With that, Charles melted back into the shadows and made his way toward the small house in the farthest corner of the ancient city.

The next day.

Charles left his house early in the morning and made his way to the Library of Sages, located four streets away.

The library was a striking structure, standing four stories high. Built primarily of stone, it gave off a sense of strength and timelessness. A large dome rose from its center, commanding attention, while four tall stone towers stood around it like sentinels, enhancing its majestic design.

When Charles entered the library, he found no one in sight—not a guard, not a receptionist.

So this is the public library. I didn’t expect it to be completely empty. But considering their race values honesty, theft must be rare. This is a perfect chance to gather as much knowledge as I can.

The first floor held books on history, literature, and mythology, offering insight into the rich culture and stories of Karr. Moving up to the second floor, Charles found shelves dedicated to foundational subjects—mathematics, magical theory, language-based magic, and practical disciplines like sword and spear arts, warrior training, and basic divine techniques.

The third floor was more esoteric. It featured detailed historical texts, information on interdimensional travel, and records of mysterious legacies passed through generations. High-rank divine arts also lined the shelves, offering a deeper understanding of the divine and its connection to mortal life.

Charles spent over five hours exploring the third floor before stumbling upon a passage about a bracelet named Whisper of Gluttony.

The Dream God Phoebe found this treasure thirty years ago while exploring outer space. Since then, he’s declared it a national treasure and wears it constantly.

He closed the skin-bound book and looked around.

Not a single person had entered the library in all that time.

This place is perfect for studying.

Without hesitation, Charles began gathering literature books from every shelf—basic, advanced, and everything in between. He stored over 10,000 books in his space ring.

Even if I can’t match the knowledge of the Sage Heroes, I can at least earn their respect. If I can impress them, it’ll bring me closer to my real goal. And becoming a poet is Dream God Phoebe’s only weakness.

He took out a crystal dimensional stone, placed it on a nearby wooden shelf, turned into his elemental form, and vanished.

For the next two days, Charles remained inside the Crystal Dimension, immersing himself in Karr literature and history. By the end of his stay, his understanding had reached an unpredictable level.

Two days later, he reappeared on the library’s third floor. After making sure the coast was clear, he retrieved the crystal stone, stored it back in his ring, and returned all the books to their original places.

Then he quietly exited the library and headed toward the Fourth District.

But as he walked, something unusual caught his attention. The casual conversations around him carried a strange rhythm, almost like poetry. Even the street songs sounded like they belonged to a dreamscape orchestra.

This isn’t a city of Corpse Devourers. Everything here—the people, their movements, even their footsteps—feels rhythmic and emotional, like they’re living poetry.

He was especially stunned by the purity of emotional soul essence emanating from everyone around.

I need to move forward with my plan quickly.

His destination was the residence of the mentor who had once trained the poet Tasar Pabella. But Charles wasn’t there to settle a grudge. His true objective was to cast the [Curse of the Overlord] on the mentor himself.

From what I’ve learned, this man is a student of one of the Nine Sage Heroes. That means my real target is not Tasar, but his master. And his house is on Golden Track Street in the Fourth District.

Before long, Charles arrived at the compound. A tall two-meter gate enclosed the property. He stepped through it and walked toward the main entrance.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he knocked on the massive wooden door.

After a brief moment, it creaked open, revealing an elderly Karr man with silver hair and a calm demeanor. He wore a simple but refined robe, and his eyes radiated quiet wisdom.

"Good day, sir," Charles greeted, bowing respectfully.

The elderly man looked him over and asked, "May I ask who you are?"

"My name is Vesryn Miramaris," Charles said. "I once studied under Tasar Pabella and have come today seeking guidance and inspiration. I hope to meet his mentor and learn from him, if he’s willing."

The elderly man studied Charles’s face for a long moment before nodding.

"I’m Master Griven," he said. "Tasar was my student. If you’re looking to grow as a poet, you’re welcome here. Come in, and we’ll talk."

Charles followed him into a cozy room filled with scrolls, books, and pieces of poetry. They sat down, and conversation flowed easily—about literature, philosophy, and the art of expression.

As they spoke, Griven became increasingly impressed.

"You’re remarkably well-read," he said eventually. "It surprises me that someone like you was turned away by Tasar. In truth, your thoughts hold more insight than even my old mentor’s. I’d love to learn more from you."

A smile crossed Charles’s face.

"To inspire others, speak clearly and with purpose. Understand what moves their hearts. True knowledge is like the sun—it lights the way. Expression is the first step to wisdom, and success comes from mastering it."

As he spoke, Charles subtly cast the [Curse of the Overlord] spell, hiding it beneath the facade of deep conversation and humility.

Master Griven leaned back in his chair, visibly moved.

"Your words stir something deep in me," he said. "It’s rare to meet someone who speaks with such clarity and heart. I believe your journey is just beginning, and I’m honored to be part of it."

I need to be careful from here. The real challenge is approaching—the Sage Heroes.

Charles was inwardly thrilled his spell had taken hold, but he kept his expression composed.

Just as he was about to leave, Master Griven looked up and said, "You’ve proven yourself more than worthy. If you’re willing, I’d like to take you to meet my teacher—Almar Quidi. He resides at the House of Melodic Words. It’s a sanctuary for poetry and deep reflection. Would you care to join me?"

Charles blinked, surprised.

Did he read my thoughts? Is it because of the spell?

"I’d be honored," he said with a bow. "Thank you for your trust."

Smiling, Master Griven gently took Charles’s hand. Together, they walked through the city’s elegant streets.

The stone paths seemed to hum with ancient verses. The breeze that touched their faces carried a kind of magic, as if creativity itself floated in the air. Flowers bloomed along the way, their colors blending into the lyrical ambiance of the district.

As the sun began to set, casting everything in golden hues, the city looked almost otherworldly. Warm light bathed the buildings and streets in amber and saffron, as if the world itself had turned into a living poem.

At the end of the street, they stood before a tall, square building that was a masterpiece of craftsmanship. Unlike the other stone structures in the city, this one was made of pure crystalline rock. Each facet shimmered in the sunlight, reflecting like a constellation of stars.

The building rose like a circular tower, reaching an astonishing height of 300 meters. It seemed to stretch into the heavens, as if trying to touch the clouds. Charles couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe as he looked up, captivated by the building’s grandeur.

Circular staircases spiraled around the exterior, winding elegantly to each floor. Every step felt like an invitation to ascend toward knowledge and brilliance.

It was unlike anything Charles had ever seen—an architectural marvel that seemed to breathe with poetic life. Master Griven beamed with pride as he caught the wonder in Charles’s eyes, knowing this place would leave a lasting mark on his protégé.

"Welcome to the House of Melodic Words," said Master Griven, his voice full of quiet reverence. "Inside these walls, poetry and wisdom intertwine. Prepare yourself—this place will change you."

As they neared the entrance, Charles sensed something in the air. It felt like the harmony of celestial notes merging in perfect balance.

A divine power... It’s coming from the center of the building. So pure. So sacred.

He was drawn in by the aura of the place, as if poetry itself lived and breathed within these walls.

Crossing the threshold, he entered a stunning hall. Intricately carved verses decorated the walls, each line a work of art. Books and scrolls lined the shelves—testimonies to the poets who had once sought refuge and inspiration here.

Guided by Master Griven, Charles walked through the main corridors until they reached the Elder Hall—the heart of the building—where the Sage Hero Elre Sylcyne resided.

In front of a tall wooden door, Master Griven knocked twice and spoke up.

"Teacher Elre, we’ve come to see you. A new disciple is seeking your audience."