Chapter 48: Knowledge Chases People

Lu Mi deeply understood Aurora’s words.

When he was still wandering, he learned not to underestimate anyone—some adult vagrants had suffered greatly because they dismissed him as a child, thinking him weak, while some benefactors, though well-intentioned in offering food, forgot the hunger-stricken state of vagrants’ bodies and ended up doing harm.

Lu Mi thought carefully for a moment and said:

“So it seems that a relatively precise description for summoning a desired creature is valuable.”

“Yes.” Aurora nodded with deep feeling. “Notes containing corresponding summoning incantations are extremely valuable—each incantation, each description, every annotation was paid for with life, blood, or suffering. The simplest example: my three-part description for summoning ‘White Paper’ is ‘A spirit wandering in illusion, a friendly being under command, a fragile sphere that understands my thoughts.’ That last phrase—if you tried to piece it together yourself, you wouldn’t know how many failures it would take. And every failure means great risk.”

A fragile sphere that understands my thoughts? Is that something a normal person could come up with? Especially “fragile” and “sphere”… Lu Mi muttered inwardly as he asked:

“So you bought this from someone else?”

“No.” Aurora shook her head, her expression bitter. “The ‘Seeker of Secrets’ path is different—it constantly chases you with knowledge. You can’t avoid it, even if you don’t want to; you can’t refuse it, even if you can’t bear it. And when you take the elixir to ascend, this ‘knowledge chasing people’ situation becomes even worse.”

“Though most of this knowledge is useless, some holds value—the summoning incantation for ‘White Paper’ is one such example.”

“From the ‘Hidden Sage’s’ infusion?” Lu Mi understood his sister’s meaning.

Aurora glanced at him in surprise:

“You know? That lady’s teachings?”

“Yes.” Lu Mi nodded.

Aurora pursed her lips thoughtfully:

“From my own experience, ‘knowledge chasing people’ doesn’t come entirely from the ‘Hidden Sage’s’ infusion. My so-called ‘tinnitus’ really is hearing His voice, receiving knowledge from Him—it always brings me pain, my head near bursting, I wish I’d just lose control already.”

“But occasionally—especially when I’m unwell, on the verge of losing control—I get a hallucination: all the knowledge in the world comes alive, a few chasing after me, rushing toward me, and I can’t escape. The summoning incantation for ‘White Paper’ simply burst into my mind like that.”

“When taking the elixir, ninety-nine percent of ‘knowledge chasing people’ comes from the ‘Hidden Sage,’ one percent from the living knowledge.”

“Fascinating—and terrifying. It would frighten everyone in the village.” Lu Mi remarked honestly, while mentally searching for a way to solve—or at least reduce—the impact of ‘knowledge chasing people’ for his sister.

Aurora gave a bitter smile in reply:

“Precisely because I endure such torment constantly, I never wanted you to enter the Path of the Extraordinary. But under these circumstances, becoming an extraordinary being is indeed better than being an ordinary person.”

To make sure her brother remembered the madness and danger of the Path, she pointed to her head:

“Being constantly chased by knowledge, living with pain—I feel my spirit and personality have already undergone some distortion.”

“Don’t I often tell you I have social anxiety? Yet sometimes I become unusually talkative, enjoying chatting with village old women, telling stories to children, even occasionally going mad, borrowing Mrs. Pualis’s pony to gallop through the hills, screaming loudly?”

“The unusual talkativeness is a rebound from being locked at home, unable to return to our homeland, and the suppression of the Path.”

“And the occasional madness…”

Here, Aurora looked at Lu Mi and let out a low laugh:

“You don’t think that’s just an exaggerated metaphor, do you?”

Lu Mi fell silent. He felt her laugh carried self-mockery, confusion, and an indescribable pain and struggle.

Aurora sighed shortly after:

“At those times, I barely recognize myself.”

“There must be a way to fix this.” At this moment, Lu Mi felt his own helplessness deeply.

“Hope, let’s continue.” Aurora pointed to the altar. “Once you’ve signed a contract with the summoned spirit-being, summoning it again becomes simple—the final description can be changed to ‘The contracted being uniquely belonging to Aurora Li.’ Accurate, isn’t it? And before the contract is broken, no one else can summon it.”

“Can each person have only one contracted being?” Lu Mi was deeply concerned about this.

“No.” Aurora spoke frankly. “I don’t know the exact upper limit, but it’s certainly more than one—especially for certain special sequences. When summoning, you distinguish them as ‘the first contracted being of X,’ ‘the second contracted being of X.’ Also, remember: summoning spirit-beings consumes your own spirituality. The more you summon, the more you drain. With a ‘Hunter’s’ spirituality, I estimate I can barely handle one contracted being.”

Knowing her brother’s nature, she shut down any loophole he might try to exploit:

“Every spirit-being summoned into reality has a limited duration—weak ones last longer. Don’t think you can summon one, wait for your spirituality to recover, then summon another. Unless you choose only very weak ones and your spirituality has significantly increased from now.”

She then used ‘White Paper’ as an example:

“If I don’t let ‘White Paper’ carry my abilities, it can remain in reality for twelve hours. But if I share my eyes’ special perception with it, letting it work for me, it can last at most three hours—and my own spirituality will drain continuously.”

Lu Mi, who had originally planned to build an army of spirit-beings, was deeply disappointed.

He thought for a moment, then asked:

“Can you summon only spirit-beings? Only spirits?”

“No.” Aurora shook her head. “You can also summon beings from the Netherworld, the Mirror World, and other extradimensional spaces subordinate to the Spirit Realm, the Material World, or the Star Realm—and even certain beings from other worlds or extraterrestrial planets, regardless of whether they are spirits. But this is extremely dangerous. Most who attempt it die horribly; a few vanish mysteriously, leaving only notes proving what they once did.”

“Can you summon something from the Material World?” Lu Mi asked curiously.

Aurora thought a moment and said:

“Theoretically, if the target has a close connection to the Spirit Realm or possesses sufficient rank, it might hear the summoning and choose whether to respond. But such targets are either exceptionally rare or immensely powerful. If you want to stay alive, never try.”

“Moreover, when the target isn’t a spirit, the ritual requirements become higher, requiring more spirituality—and often extensive sacrifices—to open a gate capable of allowing non-spirit beings to pass through.”

“With a ‘Hunter’s’ spirituality, you can barely manage summoning ‘White Paper.’ To attempt anything stronger, you’d have to petition some deity or hidden entity—and likely prepare offerings saturated with spirituality.”

Lu Mi now understood the mechanics of this type of ritual magic. He told his sister:

“You’re going to recite the incantation now to complete the summoning?”

“How could I?” Aurora scoffed. “The ritual has been interrupted so many times—how could it continue? Normally, if interrupted properly, you can resume from the interruption point. But I was just explaining, not paying attention to the ritual steps.”

You probably just forgot… Lu Mi muttered inwardly but dared not speak it aloud.

Aurora continued:

“But I do need to perform a summoning ritual—partly to fully demonstrate the entire process to you, and partly to seek help.”

“Seek help?” Lu Mi asked, puzzled.

Summon a powerful spirit-being for aid?

Aurora explained:

“Among countless spirit-beings, a very few can serve as messengers—private messengers. These messengers, bound by special contracts, can be summoned by others.”

“For example, if I had a contracted messenger, someone in Trill could summon it, give it a written letter, and it would instantly cross the Spirit Realm to deliver it to me.”

“Due to the Spirit Realm’s nature and the contract’s link, it completes the delivery in one or two seconds.”

“That’s incredible—faster than telegraphing.” Lu Mi genuinely marveled.

His inner thought was:

I want one too!

“Don’t even think about it.” Aurora saw through his mind. “Summoning a messenger is extremely difficult. Unless you directly obtain the precise incantation, trying to figure it out yourself is nearly impossible. And only a few special sequences can possess such precise incantations—even your sister doesn’t have one.”

Lu Mi felt disappointed, then asked:

“So you’re going to summon one of her messengers and write her a letter for help?”

“Yes.” Aurora nodded. “She’s one of the few among us who has advanced furthest on the Path. She has her own messenger. I don’t expect her to save me—but she might offer me some advice.”

It’s probably hopeless… that mysterious lady said we must rely on ourselves… Lu Mi asked curiously:

“We? You mean your pen pals?”

Aurora first nodded, then asked in confusion:

“When did I ever mention pen pals to you?”

“Last time. No—the time before last cycle.” Lu Mi answered honestly.

“Alright.” Aurora pressed her forehead. “Actually, it’s a mutual aid group slowly formed by those of us who can’t return home—we communicate through letters, share knowledge, solve problems, and occasionally hold small gatherings or use messengers to exchange information. She’s one of the vice-chairs and founders of this group. Her codename is ‘Hela.’”

“Codename?” Lu Mi was puzzled.

Aurora hummed:

“In the group, everyone uses codenames, never real names. When writing letters, we emphasize they’re pen names, to avoid drawing official attention.”

“What’s your codename?” Lu Mi was curious.

Aurora fell silent for a moment, then replied with a sigh:

“‘Muggle.’”

“What does that mean?” Lu Mi didn’t understand.

Aurora’s gaze dimmed slightly as she answered:

“An ordinary person without extraordinary abilities.”

Lu Mi knew his sister longed to be an ordinary person back in their homeland. He quickly changed the subject:

“What’s the name of your group?”

Aurora’s expression turned complex:

“Originally, we wanted a dignified name. But since we’d be writing letters regularly, a flashy name might attract unwanted attention. So we settled on one that looks like it belongs to animal enthusiasts.”

“What is it?” Lu Mi pressed.

Aurora answered with slight embarrassment:

“The Curly Baboon Research Society.”

ps: I explained ritual magic in detail because it will be heavily used in Book Two—after all, we’ll need to petition deities for blessings and power, which is the new system I mentioned. Later sections will soon involve spirit-beings and contracts.

ps2: Thank you to Naxida’s gaze for the Silver Alliance donation.

(End of Chapter)