Waking up the next morning, Quill started for the gates.

  Yereth told him that there were no libraries in the outer city, and if he needed books, then he needed to pass the gates to the inner district. Quill wanted to orient himself on the map, but more than that, he to start on his studies on White magic. That was why he needed to find a library.

  The Amber sun greeted him past the tight overarching buildings, its warmth cascading over the rooftops. The outer city was waking up from its slumber as more and more people got out of their beds to start the day working, with the wind a pleasant backdrop that took the drowsiness from their faces.

  From what the golden elf said before, this outer district was known as Gren. It was mostly inhabited by commoners who couldn't afford the luxury of the inner district. There were a lot of intricacies in elven culture, but the separation of class was apparent enough.

  Quill started over the bridge before stopping at the stone walls. It cut through the path into the inner city, barred with guards that wore white-plated armor. Their curved blades made a point not to cause any trouble, especially when it was so early in the morning.

  If they let them through, then there wasn't going to be.

  “State your business.” One of the guards stepped up, his armor clanking when he stopped right in front of Quill's face. The man was surprisingly short, or maybe it was just that Quill was surprisingly tall, standing over him a head and shoulder higher.

  “I want to go to a library. Are there any inside the walls?” Quill took a glance over the guard’s head and through the gates of the walls, his gaze drifting to the inner city before the guard then shifted to laughter.

  “A library, he said.” The guard turned to his companions before they too stifled a laugh. “Do you even know how to read, gray elf?”

  “I do.” Annoyance rolled in Quill's voice. He had a deep understanding of most, if not all, major languages of the Westlands, and it was disgusting how they mocked his knowledge.

  “Unfortunately, you are not permitted inside.” Another guard followed the first, a burly woman who was taller than the first guard. “Unless you're here as a merchant or as a scholar, then you have no right to enter.”

  “I’m a .” Quill said.

  The guards only scoffed at him.

  “I don't want to cause trouble.” Quill blinked away the heat in his head. “Point me to a library, and I’ll not bother you again.”

  The guards only furrowed their faces. They were not so easy to convince. In their eyes, he was just another commoner from Gren. Quill could vaguely understand where they were coming from, but he wasn't willing to back off, and when the guards finally figured that out, they drew their blades.

  “Last warning.” The woman stepped forward with her sword. Quill only stared down the blade, his mind churning over how he was going to move past this situation. The first thing that came to mind was . Even with his lack of magic, he still had his combat experience with him.

  The two guards would be trouble, but it was easy to get past them with Black Application. Their blades would melt under his magic, and then it would be a matter of melee combat, and in that regard, Quill had been honing his skill for centuries.

  And yet, he was undecided.

  If he were to get inside using brute force, then more of the City Watch would show up to apprehend him. He was strong enough to handle these two, but he wasn't anywhere near the level of fighting back against an army right now. Fighting back was just a losing situation no matter what.

  Quill already knew that. That was why he tried using his words to talk to them and tried to convince them. Yereth said that they allowed anyone into the inner city as long as probable cause was given, and going into a library was more than enough of a reason.

  That was supposed to be it. In that case, why do these mortals not understand basic communication?

  Quill stared at the blade right in front of him. He was already growing sick of threats.

  “What is all this commotion so early in the morning?” An old man passed the bridge, a sickly man with a long scruffy beard and legs too weak for walking. He had only a wooden stick to prop himself upright.

  “Chancellor Haref,” The guards immediately slid their swords back to their scabbards and bowed to the old man named Haref. How fast they switched up was disgusting, to say the least. “How was your morning walk?”

  “It could've been better if not for you two causing a ruckus. We're in the middle of the streets, mind you.” Haref then drifted his eyes to Quill. “And who are you?”

  “Don't mind him, sir.” The other guard said. “He’s just another beggar trying to get into the inner city. We were just about to–”

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  Haref stomped his stick against the bridge. “I wasn't talking to you.”

  The woman shrank in size before Haref turned to Quill again. “Now, what's your business here?”

  A crowd of people had started to surround the bridge, drawn to the commotion unfolding. Most of them were commoners of Gren, but some looked to be nobles who were too afraid of what might transpire.

  “I’m here to find a library.” Quill chose his words carefully. “I’m told there are many inside the inner city.”

  “Really now?” Haref combed his beard, his eyes cold and calculating through the lens of his round glasses. “Why do you want to find a library?”

  “To read books.”

  A faint smile crept through Haref’s beard. “You’re in luck then. Follow me.”

  The first guard stepped up in front of them both. “Chancellor, you may need to reconsider–”

  “ Chancellor. It isn't wise to remind an old man of his retirement.” Haref raised his hand, and a pair of guards appeared from behind him and raised their swords. “Speak when you're spoken to.”

  The gate guards backed off before Haref then sighed and turned. He nodded to Quill before he started, passing through the gates with his personal guards. Quill followed right behind them.

  Passing through the gates, Quill bore witness to the inner city. He finally understood then why it was so closely guarded by the City Watch.

  White buildings stretched to the skies, their tiled rooftops glinting against the Amber sun. Their walls were made of Marblestone bricks, supported by expensive Whitewood timber. Quill had never seen structures so pristine before, and it was a far cry from the buildings outside.

  As he continued down the block, water canals murmured along the stone-paved paths. The current eventually led to a small town square with a fountain at the heart, trickling with crystalline waters. Quill stared at the plump maple trees rustling as he passed them by, and strangely enough, the absence of mud and smoke was refreshing for a change.

  “Sorry about those two.” Haref turned his head to Quill. “You must've caught them in a bad mood. Those good-for-nothing usually let just about anyone pass through.”

  “Yes, it was hard trying to reason with them.” Quill caught the whistling of birds in the trees. “Thank you for the help. I wouldn't have been able to get in, otherwise.”

  “Wouldn't you?” Haref tittered. “In my eyes, it looked like you were about to them.”

  Quill blinked. “I’m sorry if it seemed that way.”

  Haref continued down the path, passing crowds of people as they delved deeper into the city. The people respected the old man, almost as if he was some kind of figurehead around here–and maybe he was, given the personal guards beside him and the honorifics the others called him by.

  Chancellor. That was a title given to honor individuals who held a high position in government units and magic academies. Was there an academy in this city then? Quill only stared at a far-off structure in the distance, seemingly dwarfing the rest of the buildings.

  “We're here.” Haref stopped at a large building right in the heart of the city square. A round column served as the entrance inside, the double doors flanked on both sides by lanterns.

  The guards bowed to Haref before they then took their leave, disappearing to the streets once Haref opened the doors. He invited Quill inside, and Quill didn't let the opportunity go to waste.

  The doors closed with a behind him.

  Quill passed the interior. That was when he caught a smell he was all too familiar with: paper smudged with a faint note of vanilla. He turned, finding hundreds of bookshelves propped on walls, the staircases in the corners leading to the mezzanines above.

  “This is my library.” Haref waved Quill off with a hand before starting to the counter, his staff to the stone floor before he sat and picked up a book on the table. The old man reminded him of himself, in a way.

  Quill nodded before passing through the lines of empty tables before he scraped the bookshelves. He turned to the categories carved on signs, picking up maps before scrounging tens of magic books and taking a table.

  He piled all of the documents on one end before picking up the map first.

  As expected, the language was all elven. It took him a while to interpret the words into the common language, but it was only a few minutes before he grasped the situation he was in.

  Quill had been transported to the other side of the Westlands continent. He was in the capital city of right at the edge of the Elven Empire. The empire itself was a collection of elven cities under the same banner, ranging from wood elves to dark elves, and Fen was right there nestled in the far left.

  Quill traced the distance from Fen to the city of Saltstone, the human city closest to the abandoned village he had settled in. Drawing a straight line between them, it was close to ten thousand kilometers, and that was ignoring terrain and mountains.

  It was far.

  Even if Quill were to ride on horseback, it would take him half a year to even reach the edge of the human kingdoms.

  He scrunched his head. Finding himself on the otherside of the continent may be a blessing in disguise. The way he was now, he wasn't exactly capable of exacting his revenge on Pormor. He couldn't even fight back against the nobles and guards, let alone the strongest human alive.

  Quill shook his head. There was no use thinking about it now. All he needed to do right now was to lie low and slowly rebuild his army. With the knowledge and skills he gained from his past life, it was more than enough to speed through the initial ranks. Add to that his new White Core, he was basically given the best set of circumstances he could've asked for.

  Instead of thinking about Pormor and the others, he needed to focus all of his efforts on growing stronger. Inside this city of Fen, he was going to surpass his past self and rise higher than he had ever done before. He rolled the map close before opening the first of the magic books.

  The time will eventually come when he will have their heads.