After his bath, Abad went back to the Green Lady. He changed his [Mask of Many Faces] back to his familiar image on the way. It was late afternoon by the time he returned, but none of the siblings had made it back to the inn. Having neither a room nor money, he sat down at one of the small tables in the corner of the tavern and finally pulled out the bloodstained, heavily charred spellbook that he had found on the road.


    He hadn''t had the time or the willingness to study it while he traveled, and even if he had, he was so drained that the attempt wouldn''t have been worthwhile. His spirit was only now recovering from his little stunt against the trolls, and even the act of transferring a small amount of life force to Zethari had taxed him. He hoped that by taking the [Life I] perk, he would avoid moments like that in the future.


    He wondered to himself why he had done what he did in the baths. He was under no obligation to help Zethari, and he certainly wasn''t in any condition to purchase her. He admittedly had no idea how he''d manage to gather the funds necessary to do so. However, thinking about the moment he shared with the wolf girl, he smiled. Even if it was a struggle to admit it, it felt... not bad to help her. Still, doing so would take time and resources he didn''t have. His sense of self-preservation, a constant companion in his life, was failing him lately.


    Not being able to do anything about it then, he shook the thought away.


    Pulling the book out of his sack and placing it in the table, he marveled at the thing. He couldn''t believe it had survived. The book didn''t look like much. It had a thick cloth-bound cover with a few simple preservation enchantments stitched into the fabric. However, as he peeled the front open, there were more runes carved into the back of the cover. The owner or original maker had taken their time to protect the thing. He appreciated that. He had gone to many lengths to protect his own belongings, and he could completely understand the care that the owner had put into the book.


    He flipped the book over and opened the back cover. There were many more runes carved into the back as well, but what caught his eye more was some text on the final page. He hadn''t noticed the writing when he briefly scanned the book over on the road, and something inside of him danced at the realization that he could potentially learn more secrets from whoever the mage was. Flipping through the pages, he realized that the previous owner had kept a diary that she had written on the final pages of the book.


    Looking around to ensure he''d be left alone, he saw a maid heading toward him. He waved her off, then began to read. The handwriting was neat, precise, and written in an efficient cursive script.


    <hr>


    To the one who finds this spellbook,


    My name is Barha Yein. I''m a mage of some small power and a scholar of little renown. I hope my spellbook finds you well. If you''re reading this, it means that I have fallen, either by harm on the trail or, hopefully, after dying a peaceful death surrounded by loved ones. If the former, I pray my death was quick and painless. I have always feared conflict and don''t wish to suffer. However, whatever happens, it is the Goddess''s will. I must take solace in that. I''ve decided to keep a small journal of my journey to the wall. It is a rather dangerous trip, and I''d hate for what I find to be lost. Ideally, I''ll use these notes to inform my scholarly work when I return. However, the world is a dangerous place, and my work researching the walls, which is my specialty, suggests that I should keep a memento in case I don''t return.


    <hr>


    5E 443, 16th Gloamsend


    As I said before, I was hired to travel with a group of investigators to the Great Wall. After the quakes several months ago, new holes have been reported along the Wall south of the Tower of the Moon. An agent came to the guild and said they needed a mage. Since I''m one of three mages in Farnfoss, and I''m the only one who actively studies the Wall, I accepted the offer to join the expedition. In truth, I took the job without hesitation. My academic curiosity was peaked, and the money was more than lucrative. I''ll be able to live well for some time on what they''re offering—three hundred crystals! I''ll be able to move out of the southern district and to the western one with that kind of money!


    Here''s to hoping it all goes smoothly. I purchased a powerful fire spell in case we run into any undead out there, and there are reports of trolls to the north. I''m not well-versed in that kind of magic, but I should be able to pull it off.


    <hr>


    5E 443, 22nd Gloamsend


    It took us five days to reach the Wall. When we did, we found that it had in fact collapsed south of the Tower of the Moon, and the hole was much larger than I expected! I wonder what we''ll find inside?


    Since we arrived, we''ve encountered small numbers of undead and other foul creatures of the wilds in larger numbers than we anticipated, but aside from losing one of our guards to a ghoul attack, we''ve remained largely safe. It''s a shame about the man, but that''s the price of knowledge. There is little to report yet, but I''ll write soon. This little diary is helping keep my mind straight.


    <hr>


    5E 443, 24th Gloamsend


    We spent two days mapping and scouting the opening, and tomorrow we''re going to move on inside. I''m beyond excited.


    <hr>


    5E 443, 25th Gloamsend


    We started exploring the wall''s interior today. So few people have ever stepped inside the Wall before. I feel like I''m exploring new ground! How will the guild see me if I published my findings? Who knows? I might end up a professor in Saern if I find something in here. We''ve had to fight through undead since we arrived, but most of them are dry and old. They hardly put up a challenge. I''m going to pray it remains so.


    <hr>


    5E 443, 26th Gloamsend


    I got to investigating more today. The monsters have been more frequent and powerful within, but thanks to the excellent mercenaries hired from that patron named Bolton every talks about by High Lord Stralvor, I''ve been mostly left to my own devices. Because of them, I''ve largely been free to do my research.


    What I''ve found so far has been concerning. The ancient enchantments lining this section''s interior have largely failed, which I can only assume led to the collapse. Worse, for as far into the walls as we''ve ventured, most of the wards within appear inactive. If this is the case through the entire Wall, I fear what will come in the future. It''s possible the decay is limited to only this section, but I find that unlikely. There is very little ambient mana charging these seals, and what mana is available has gone to feeding the monsters and undead we''ve encountered.


    While it''s true that the walls bordering Nolei and Evron are more decayed than the others, I can''t believe that the damage hasn''t spread elsewhere, and word from the west suggests that the walls there have crumbled in Istaera as well, but that''s beyond the scrope of my current research.


    Tomorrow, we''re going to push further into the walls. The structure appears stable enough, though our resident dwarf says that there is some small risk of the stone collapsing.He assured us it should be relatively safe, however.


    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    I''ve never been one to journal, but this is actually keeping me sane.


    In addition to my little ramblings, I''m including drawings of the sigils and seals I''ve found inside. Most of them are protection and preservation sigils, at least as far as I can tell. Once I return to Farnfoss, I''d like to try my hand at replicating them. Ta-Li''s going to be so jealous!


    <hr>


    Abad''s interest was peaked. The sigils were in fact old protection seals from before his time. They weren''t magics he was proficient in, but if he took up enchanting again, he might be able to replicate them.


    He appreciated the woman''s thoroughness. Every detail of the seals was replicated in the book. He often appreciated that about scholars. He''d always enjoyed their company since his own passions and interests were somewhat aligned with theirs. However, he often got irritated with the scholarly penchant for descending into pedantry and theory instead of action. That, coupled with their lack of material ambition, meant they spent more time arguing in their towers than making their will known in the world. What point was there for all that knowledge without a desire to use it? This scholar, it seemed, had some measure of ambition more than the average mage. He found himself wishing he could have met her.


    He flipped to the next page and continued reading.


    <hr>


    5E 443, 28th Gloamsend


    We made significant progress yesterday, but things haven''t gone well. While exploring one of the many corridors we found, a small group of revenants of some kind attacked us. Though we dispatched them quickly enough, several of our men were injured, which meant we had to slow our pace. I tried to continue my explorations, but between my nerves and the injured, I struggled to make any meaningful progress. Worse still, a sense of unease has fallen over the group. We''ve found some evidence of tampering within the walls. While old, it is clear someone created runes to counter the old protections.


    Worse, there are noises deeper into the Wall. Many in our group are considering returning to the wagons, but I''ve asked if we can wait a little while longer. I framed my suggestion as if the injured men should rest, but the truth is I feel like I''ve only just started my research. I pray that they can hold on a little longer. As long as we can rely on the priest''s light, we should be able to remain here. I found an interesting rune in the room that the revenants came out of. I''d like to analyze it further.


    <hr>


    5E 443, 29th Gloamsend


    When the first cracks in the Wall appeared, many were shocked to learn that they were filled with monsters. Soon after, undead began to populate them. The necromantic arts were banned centuries ago for obvious reasons, and the number of times they''ve been created in recent days is thankfully few. Finding such creatures within what was thought to be a hallowed space like the Wall was a shock to my brethren centuries ago. I wonder what they would think if they learned the sheer number of the creatures buried within?


    We lost one of our men last night in another attack. Our expedition leader made the call to return to the outside. I suppose he''s making the right call.


    Alas, I have little time to write more. I have drawn the sigil I found deep inside the wall. I don''t understand its purpose at all. I''ll have to replicate it when we return to Farnfoss.


    <hr>


    Abad looked over the sigil. As he did, his mind spun. A rune flashed to life in his mind''s eye, and its description burned itself onto his scroll.


    <hr><hr>


    [Secrets of the Wall]: By reading the last words of one destined to die, you have regained a portion of your former strength. Though only a small kernel of knowledge, these words unlock further understanding.


    You gain the [Black Magic] Warlock talent.


    [Black Magic] (Passive): You possess an affinity for dark, potent forces that lie beyond the mortal realm. Shadows and negative energies respond to your call, enabling subtle manipulation of fear, weakness, and despair in others. You may now learn Black Magic spells, tapping into powers that corrupt the living, obscure perception, and invoke primal dread.


    You learn the [Corruption] Black Magic spell.


    [Corruption] (1st Circle, Active, Cost ?): Draw on the shadows to infuse a target with negative energy, weakening their defenses and dulling their senses. This spell saps the target’s physical and mental resilience, leaving them vulnerable to further attacks and susceptible to effects that prey on fear and confusion.


    You reach Level XI


    You have unlocked the maximum number of talents for the [Warlock] class. You may now unlock a class specialization by finding and completing a class specialization quest.


    <hr><hr>


    He felt the final talent meld with the seal in his spirit that signified his class. He couldn''t help but grin as the seal "flashed" as his final talent unlocked. He''d done it! He finally had a taste of the power he once wielded. And [Corruption]? The spell itself was weak, more an inconvenience that anything overwhelmingly deadly, but that was inconsequential. Unlocking the ability to harness the dark energies once again would be more valuable than any weapon in his arsenal in time, and the uses of the dark arts themselves would grow and increase his power significantly. This was a tangible step forward in his path to power. He thanked the woman for her sacrifice.


    However, why had the sigil for [Corruption] been carved into the Wall in the first place? Who had done it? For what end? He wanted to go there and see it himself. If one spell could be learned, perhaps more awaited in the boundary of Elysium?


    He continued reading, hoping to find more clues within the text.


    <hr>


    5e 443, 32nd Gloamsend


    It has been some days. I have not had time to write. Things have worsened. Another member of our team died today. We don''t know how. Something attacked him when he was out of sight. Whatever it was left only bloody stains behind. I''ve come to regret requesting we stay longer. We marched all day and night and are only stopping to rest for an hour before moving on. We hope to escape by tomorrow evening.


    <hr>


    5E 443, 1st Solclaim


    Two more have disappeared. This place is not for mortals like us, and I feel eyes watching us at all hours. We''ve made it most of the way back to the entrance, but we haven''t escaped yet. No one slept. We''ve hardly eaten. I only managed to close my eyes for a brief hour before being awoken by screams. We searched for the guards but found nothing except a broken sword and shredded armor. The others think it''s the undead, but I''m not so sure. I can just barely sense something in the shadows, and ghouls leave bones.


    <hr>


    5E 443, 2nd Solclaim


    <hr>


    We made it back to the wagons by midday. I cannot remember feeling such relief before in my whole life. All thoughts of rewards have fled me. I simply wish to get home. Once I get some sleep, I plan on documenting everything I experienced within the Wall and sharing my notes with the Guild. The High Lord must consider sealing the walls so that no one else can enter and nothing can escape. There are horrors within that place. Every shadow moves, and each sound holds hidden malevolence. I''ve heard tales of terrible places where the veil between realms wears thin, creating rifts or gateways to other places, and I suspect that the interior of the wall is one such place. We are five days away from Farnfoss. I eagerly await returning there.


    <hr>


    5E 443, 3rd Solclaim


    We found a child on the way. He wasn''t injured but was scared. We''ve taken him back with us. He said his parents were eaten by monsters. What else is out here with us?


    <hr>


    5E 443, 4th Solclaim


    There are noises in the forest. They sound like wolves, but I fear they are much worse. I may not survive. Goddess preserve us.


    <hr>


    That was the last entry in the journal. Turning the book to face its normal orientation, Abad thought for a while.


    The sounds she had heard in the last entry may have been the trolls, but perhaps not. He had seen firsthand the carnage they had inflicted, but something seemed off. And why had the boy been in the forest? He supposed the boy never said his mother and father were in the caravan, but that seemed flimsy. He wished he had known the significance of the brands at that time. He couldn''t recall the shape of the brand on the boy''s neck. Who was he claimed by? Why was he out there?


    Still, if what she wrote was accurate, there was knowledge within the walls that he wished to acquire, but he doubted he had anywhere near the power to face whatever was within alone. Perhaps in time, he would have the resources necessary to do so, but today wasn''t that day.


    The woman had mentioned "the guild" several times throughout her writings. He wondered which guild she meant. It was unlikely she meant the Adventurer''s Guild. From what he had learned from Firtz and the girls, that guild wasn''t associated with scholarship. Perhaps Keila or the brothers could point him in the right direction? At the same time, why had Bolton''s company been involved in the search, and why hadn''t the siblings known about it? He supposed they didn''t know everything their patron did, and they had come from the north, but it still seemed odd.


    He needed to know more.