The next morning, Elora discovered that looking for answers in the library had actually been the right choice.
Even if the place was huge.
It felt like someone had taken an entire city and filled it with books.
Now what?
She still needed to find the Silver Archive.
She couldn’t ask the System.
It never answered her questions.
It only gave her quests.
By lunchtime, she had spent half the day pretending to pay attention in class while actually thinking about the restricted section in the library.
The fact that Lucien Arkhavel spent his free time reading books normal students weren’t even allowed to touch wasn’t helping.
Maybe she should stop searching the library and just make friends with Lucien instead.
Then she could just ask him.
A shortcut.
She immediately shook her head.
Nope.
That probably wouldn’t work.
Besides, she still hadn’t found anything remotely similar to her necklace in any of the books she’d read.
Elora dropped her head onto the table.
“Ouch.” A floating tray drifted onto the table in front of her, followed by another carrying Lyra’s lunch.
Elora waited until the Soul Servant wandered off before speaking.
“So, hypothetical question.” Lyra immediately looked suspicious.
“That’s never a good start.” “How does someone get access to the restricted section in the library?” Lyra narrowed her eyes.
“Absolutely not.” Elora simply stared back.
If asking questions was a crime, she was already guilty.
“What?” “Whatever you’re planning, the answer is no.
Elora, you’re a first-year student.
I repeat, a first-year student.” “I am a first-year student, and I’m not planning anything.” “Nope.
I don’t believe you, young lady.” That made Elora laugh as she picked up a piece of bread.
“I was just curious.” “Curiosity is how people end up in Professor Sorn’s office.” “That feels oddly specific.
Also, please don’t mention Professor Sorn.” “Well, then don’t make her remember your name.
Remember how that worked out last time?” Elora couldn’t even argue with that.
“Okay, maybe I’ll visit the office voluntarily for this precious information.” Lyra sighed and finally gave in.
“Most first-years can’t get access.
Some upper-years can request permission.
Professors can enter whenever they want.
Research Division students have access too.” Elora scratched the back of her head, clearly confused.
Lyra seemed to catch on immediately and continued explaining before Elora could even ask another question.
“The Academy has divisions for research, archives, field studies, magical engineering, monster observation—” “Monster observation is a job?” “Focus.” So that was the real problem.
The restricted section was right there, but getting permission to access it was a completely different matter.
Unfortunately, permission sounded much harder to obtain than a clue.
The rest of lunch passed surprisingly peacefully, although Lyra continued giving her suspicious looks every few minutes.
By the end of the meal, Elora was beginning to feel personally judged.
After classes ended that afternoon, she found herself heading back toward the library anyway.
Not because she planned to do anything stupid.
Mostly because she wanted another look.
The restricted section looked exactly the same as it had the night before.
Silver runes glowed softly along the barrier, and the same librarian sat nearby with the expression of someone who enjoyed enforcing rules.
Several students passed through the barrier after presenting identification cards.
Elora watched for a minute before wandering deeper into the library.
If she couldn’t get into the restricted section, then she’d just keep looking elsewhere.
Eventually, she found herself in a section dedicated to magical history.
Most of the books were older than the Academy itself, and judging by the amount of dust, they weren’t particularly popular.
She pulled one from the shelf and opened it.
Five minutes later, she regretted everything.
The author apparently believed every sentence should contain at least three references to historical events she’d never heard of.
Ten minutes later, she was still trying to understand the introduction.
“How did anyone survive before summaries?” she muttered.
Nobody answered.
Probably for the best.
A few shelves away, a Soul Servant floated past carrying a stack of returned books nearly twice its height.
The tiny creature somehow managed to look overworked.
Feeling a strange sense of solidarity, Elora finally gave up on the history book and reached for another.
As she slid it from the shelf, a folded piece of paper slipped from between the pages and landed on the floor.
She blinked.
That definitely wasn’t supposed to be there.
Curious, she bent down and picked it up.
For a moment, she thought she’d accidentally stumbled across something important.
She unfolded the paper.
It was a book tag.
Just a boring inventory label used for organizing shelves.
Elora stared at it for several seconds.
“The heck?” She flipped it over.
Nothing.
No hidden message.
No secret map.
No mysterious clue.
Just library paperwork.
“Useless.” She crumpled it slightly before remembering it technically belonged to the library and smoothing it back out again.
Elora slipped the tag back into the book and returned it to the shelf.
She spent another half hour combing through the history section.
One book devoted forty pages to grain taxes, another somehow made dragons sound boring, and none of them mentioned the Silver Archive.
By the time she gave up, she had learned plenty about history—and absolutely nothing she had come for.
With a sigh, Elora headed back toward the main hall of the library.
The restricted section looked exactly the same as before.
The barrier was still there.
The librarian still looked like she enjoyed rejecting people.
And the books she needed were still sitting somewhere on the other side.
Elora slowed to a stop as the realization finally hit her.
She’d spent the entire afternoon looking for a specific book, when the real problem was obvious.
The book wasn’t here.
It was behind the restricted section.
She needed access.
“Which is somehow worse,” she muttered.
Getting permission sounded difficult.
Sneaking in sounded dangerous.
And asking Lucien for help sounded impossible.
Elora immediately dismissed the third option, but after thinking about it for another second, she winced.
“…Actually, all three options are terrible.” Before she could decide what to do, the familiar crimson screen flickered into view.
Elora instinctively looked around.
The other students were still reading quietly.
A Soul Servant floated past carrying another stack of books, and the librarian remained behind the counter as if nothing had happened.
No one was looking at her.
Only then did she turn back to the floating screen.