With the War God’s Sword in hand, Baiyi held the hilt and drew it closer and closer to the anomaly in the air, until the two came into contact.

  The anomaly disappeared, but the air around it was still.

  And at the bottom of the hilt, a brand-new carving — which looked oddly like a rune of some sort — surfaced.

  “Is this…… a sigil?” Baiyi’s eyes traced the pattern carefully, then he blurted out.

  Sigils — runes that were formed naturally, which stored mana or some form of basic magical properties. One could say that sigils were the origin of human’s first step into sorcery because it was when humans sensed the vibrations emitted from sigils and mimicked their drawings into the very first sets of formations that men had learned to perform magic. Only after millennia of improvement and progress had formations be simplified into runes again.

  Sigils were not uncommon in nature — a storm, a flood, a volcanic eruption, and even a bolt of lightning could create a new sigil. Primitive humans had thought that sigils were gifts from gods, so they had called them “The Divine Letters”. After the advance of Magecraft, however, this theory was discarded. Now, the academic consensus was that sigils were left behind by the impact of natural mana after a natural phenomenon.

  Baiyi and the Voidwalkers also believed that to be the truth. However, something new had been added to their understanding today.

  “Are sigils just special manifestations of Laws?” Baiyi asked in the Void as he looked around in alert. After making sure that the surrounding would not crumble, blow up, or deteriorate turned into a scene from the apocalypse, Baiyi heaved a sigh of relief and took Attie up into the air to fly home.

  “I beg to differ slightly, as your description evinced too little of the truth, Sir Hope,” The Scholar corrected. “To be precise, only this particular sigil in your hand exhibits properties which are completely similar to that of Laws. Other types or forms of sigils are as unremarkable as they are common.”

  “I agree with Sir Scholar here,” The youngest Voidwalker, the Apprentice, added. “Everything is a sort of expression of Laws. If we are to figure this one from here, I would guess that this sigil is a partially-expressed Law fragment. Taking the War God’s peculiar actions, I would say that he is trying to use this fragment to tell us something.”

  “This thing,” Baiyi asked, “If it’s fully expressed — what do you suppose it is?”

  “Purely inconceivable. From the stretch of my mundane, uninspired imagination — perhaps a wisp of air? Perhaps another sigil? Perhaps the catalyst for the eradication of all lives?” The Scholar replied half-jokingly.

  “Ah, Laws. The origin of the universe. Are we getting closer to being able to make contact with it? Do you know what I find incredibly crucial in all this? The Third Magic. Let’s rediscover the Third Magic, and once again rediscover the Holy Grail War*! Or maybe we should look for someone who possesses eyes that can see inherent mortality in the form of lines, and mmmmffff mfff —”

  The Archmage was muted for ten minutes.

  “Do you always have to insert characters from other fictions even when we’re having a serious discussion?” Baiyi remarked flatly at his teacher’s sudden contribution. It had muddied the solemness of the discussion!

  \r \r \r

  “Man, he didn’t even give any leeway to his own master. What a cruel, heartless bastard we’re dealing with,” the Paladin muttered.

  Baiyi ignored his comment and continued the discussion with the Voidwalkers. Back in reality, he sent off Attie back to the Commander Unit, and with an excuse that he had a serious meditation to make on an issue, he locked himself up in a room for the discussion.

  Following the Scholar’s suggestion, he decided to reach out to this sigil with his own consciousness to see what lies within it.

  That action carried a hefty risk: first, this was something no one had any concrete knowledge of. If the use of psychic energy to make contact with a mysterious object like this is akin to touching it with one’s hand, then using one’s own consciousness to probe it is akin to sticking their face right at it. Despite that, there really was no other way to make any sense of it, so Baiyi decided to take the risk.

  He segregated a small part of his consciousness, and with utmost care, the Fifth Walker extended that small piece of consciousness towards the sigil at the bottom of the hilt.

  He was visibly nervous. If it posed any sort of harm — maybe a spell that erases a person’s mind, or a kind of mind corruption — what he was doing would be leaving a gigantic opening for it to infect him; or at least, infect this small part of him that he had decided to use as a probe. To say it like a Taoist would: his spirit would be in jeopardy.

  Fortunately, the worst did not happen. Just as that part of consciousness reached the sigil, disjointed images flashed within his mind, and a voice not belonging to any Voidwalker or himself boomed, “Congratulations!”

  Then seconds later, “Be careful!”

  And then it all ended. The process only took a second.

  It was like a very swift hallucination.

  Baiyi heaved a sigh of relief and retracted his consciousness quickly, then immediately scrutinized his memories. This time, he took the extra effort to compare his beliefs, values, and thoughts with other Voidwalkers to make sure that he was no longer being subliminal messaged, or anything similar.

  When it became apparent that it did not happen, he relaxed a little and slowly recalled the images that had flashed in his head in order to pass them on to the Voidwalkers.

  “Looked pretty meaningless to me,” Baiyi remarked. “There was a mountain, the sky, a plain, a land of fire and heat — what are they all supposed to mean? Locations of other similar sigils?”

  “I don’t think the War God would pull such an unflattering prank,” the Archmage, whose punishment had ended, joined in the conversation in a more serious tone, “Places like these could be found in millions and millions of realms. How would you ever be able to locate all of them?”

  “You mean, he was hinting at something?”

  “I call for a reshuffling of priorities. The images are irrelevant at this point in time, but do you recall his regards and warning?” The Scholar interjected. “It does not take much to infer that his ‘congratulations’ was on your success of possessing the fragment, but what level of caution is assigned to ‘be careful’? What is the subject of his warning?”

  “I have no idea,” Baiyi admitted. His body moved in real time, crossing the room slowly to his windows until his gaze was fixed on the setting sun.

  He continued, “But anything that made him think that I should be careful of — coupled the fact that he had used such a method to warn me — must be pretty dangerous.”

  “Other gods?” The Archmage spoke the words lingering in Baiyi’s mouth. “That makes sense, but only barely. The War God is also one of them, so why would he chose to warn you — an enemy of the gods?”

  “Hard to tell, I’m only an enemy to that particular god,” Baiyi raised his chin haughtily at the setting sun. “Meanwhile, this War God seems mighty alright. He didn’t even react much when I’d snatched his little servant girl.”

  “Oh, you are now sure that you snatched the girl, instead of him letting you do it? Look at that! He even managed to choose a girl that you like!” The Lich suddenly cut in slyly.

  “Hmm? Well, that makes sense. Attie may be quite cute, but she’s not really my type of girl, you know,” Baiyi said as he looked down on the War God’s Sword in his hand.

  Again, risking part of his mind, he extended his consciousness into the hilt.

  Suddenly, the always-so-unresponsive hilt sprouted a blade of red and blue, each taking one half. The size and shape did not change, so it looked like a dual-colored popsicle.

  “Whoaaa! You can use the blade now?!” From the Void came the cries of surprises.

  “Uh-huh. And it looks like it’s gotten even more powerful.” Baiyi pointed at the multi-colored blade. “There’s another color now. I’ll bet it’s the power of the Law fragment.”

  “So what did you see in that fragment? Felt anything?” The Archmage asked.

  “It seemed to be a shrapnel from the Law of Space. A small unit of an entire block of the Law — like a unit of glucose in a block of sugar,” Baiyi replied. “Take care to note that I don’t have any evidence to back up my claim. I just thought it that way — or rather, it made me think that way.”

  “Then it truly is a Law fragment. A Law is a concept, and a concept informs us of itself,” the Scholar commented. “Such a complex simplicity!”

  “But it’s so small. All it did was to add this new color to the sword. I haven’t even found any other use for it. It’s just so small…… so insignificant,” Baiyi said.

  “Oh no, my apprentice, you’re incorrect,” the Archmage replied. “Being able to make contact with it, to understand it, and to have an inkling of how it exists — that is the greatest significance. I think that’s what the War God is trying to tell you.”

  “Very wisely spoken. Most of our endeavors had revolved around the subject of Laws — even at the cost of eternal damnation for our souls, in a prison of unyielding darkness. Yet, it is you who can study it in more detail, Sir Hope. Your reward is very much enlightening,” the Scholar added, with a little hint of jealousy.

  “Really? Well, okay, I’ll give you that. But for all that good he has offered me — this fragment and this brand-new weapon — what does he want? Previously, I believed that I would have to fight him or his servant, but now it seems like it was all just one big, generous gift,” Baiyi replied.

  “There isn’t any free lunch, is there? I had reaped so many benefits from him. It almost felt like I’m using a credit card. So what’s the price? What will the price be?” Baiyi asked more directly.

  The War God’s warning seemed to echo again in his mind. At that moment, he felt like his hand was being scalded by the War God’s Sword.