Legendary Necromancer: My First Summon is the Undead Dragon-Chapter 49: The Black Book

Jake sat at the entrance of the guild for a few hours, watching as the sun slowly made its journey through the sky. It was only then that he realized that time here flowed in the same way as that on Earth.

He also hadn’t put his attention into learning the days, the months, or any of that information. He had simply, subconsciously set his mind that the days were probably the same even in this world, and that wasn’t a good approach.

He needed to learn everything, learn the history of this world and everything else.

Finally, he decided to open the book and see what was inside. He flipped the first page open, and the writing that was inside there wasn’t something he had seen before.

They looked like symbols and drawings that made absolutely no sense. But as he stared at it, the symbols began moving and changing; they turned into words he could understand, sentences and paragraphs. He hesitated for a moment and then read the content.

(The Path of the Broken Logic)

"There existed a path for the one who refused paths. A way for the mad, the questioner of all things sane and ordered. A path that is not a path—because to walk it is to deny walking at all."

"The Path of the Broken Logic rejects foundation. It does not rest on earth or sky or soul or sense. It is suspended over the void of contradiction, and only those who learn to dance in chaos may walk it."

He turned the page, the letters shifted and twisted, forming the next paragraphs for him.

"To grow in Broken Logic, you must first break yourself. There is no potion to drink, no chant to recite. Only acts that fracture the natural order and violate the logic of the world—and of your own mind."

"Deny what you are. Deny what you are not. Forget your name. Rewrite it in silence. Be two things at once, then neither. Convince a river to flow upward. Convince a god they do not exist. Pretend you are dead, until the world agrees."

"These are the Fractured Acts. Every one defies something logical. The more logical the thing you shatter, the more you grow."

Law of Progression

"Repeat nothing. Each contradiction must be new. Each lie must be stranger. Each wound must be deeper."

"Never explain yourself. Logic is your enemy. Let none follow your path. If they understand you, you are no longer Broken."

"When ready to ascend, face your Fractured Reflection—your self, unmade and remade by your own madness. You must defeat him in thought, not force. Win by losing. Lose by winning."

He didn’t know when, but his hands had begun shaking. The last lines on the page blurred, then sharpened again:

"The strong in this path are not those who know they are sane. They are those who have forgotten — and no longer care."

"You are not here to understand. You are here to shatter."

Jake read the last line of the book with his mind lost in confusion. He stared at the book—what had he just read? It told him about his path and the way to grow in his path, but yet he found it hard to understand.

[To understand is not to understand. Your path is contradiction. When the truest logic is to be applied, you, on the other hand, must counter logic]

The system said, and Jake understood it, finally. He stared at the book. "I must contradict logic to grow my path. Hmmm, I don’t really understand it all that well, but this has helped.

At the very least, I’m on the track now," Jake said. He raised his eyes from the book only to realize that the sun had almost gone down.

Why what had felt like only a few seconds of reading was actually hours.

"What the hell? How did time go by so fast?" he asked.

"Master, you have been sitting in that spot for more than two hours now," Crypt said, standing behind him.

"I didn’t notice," Jake said. He took another look at the book before stuffing it in his storage. He looked around and noticed that despite the quiet state of the city, people were moving about.

But he could see through the windows, many of them crying their eyes out, probably over the loss of someone dear due to the trial.

He got up from the ground and started walking. "Let’s find a place to sleep," he said. Ophelia and Crypt followed behind. As he walked through the streets of the city, he could hear wailing, crying, people yelling at the top of their voices.

But he didn’t try to understand their pain at all; he kept his head forward and walked.

They made it to their first inn, but there was no one there, completely empty. He decided to check somewhere else, but it was the same for all the inns he saw.

The sun had gone down fully at this point, and only the crystal lamps on the streets gave any illumination.

"I guess I was expecting too much to want the city to go back to the way it was after the trial," Jake muttered.

He spotted someone up above leaning against the wall, cloaked in a long, knee-length black jacket. There was a cigar in the person’s hand; he drew a long whiff and puffed into the air, then looked in the direction of Jake.

"You lot need a place to stay?" he asked, propped himself off the wall and started walking their way.

"It’s pretty weird seeing a Chosen out tonight. Most of the others that survived aren’t even in the mood to try and walk about," the man said.

He had short black hair and strangely red eyes. He smelled of cigar and a very expensive perfume. He stretched out his hand for a handshake, and immediately Jake spotted the mark at the back of his hand.

"You are a Chosen," Jake said.

"Indeed, have been for a while," he said with a smile. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com