Lord of Mysteries: The Lord of Power

After conducting a series of experiments, Furen successfully confirmed that the consumption of spiritual energy required to pass objects through the paper with a drawn door was indeed higher than passing his own body. Through further precise tests, Furen determined that clothing of the same weight consumed less spiritual energy during the crossing than other objects. Repeating the test with items of the same volume produced the same result.

Furen deduced that objects closer to him—whether physically or emotionally—required less spiritual energy to traverse than objects he had little connection with, even inorganic ones. As for other people's bodies, although Furen hadn't tested this, he suspected it would consume even more energy.

From these basic experiments, Furen formulated a hypothesis: the "Apprentice" pathway required less spiritual energy to pass through objects closely tied to the user compared to those with weaker associations.

Although the "door-opening" ability lacked direct offensive power, it didn't stop Furen from contemplating ways to weaponize it. The key element in this effort was the inherited family paper. After rummaging around the house, Furen found a particularly sharp dagger.

The dagger's handle was black and oval-shaped, minimizing its bulk. Its blade emitted a chilling aura, clearly indicating it was no toy.

According to family lore, the dagger was crafted by a smith experimenting with meteorite iron and some extraordinary materials. It lacked any supernatural properties but was exceptionally durable and sharp, requiring no maintenance. Even now, it was as sharp as the day it was forged.

This dagger was the only item in Furen's possession that could be considered remotely extraordinary. As a child, Furen often saw his father, Martin Freeman, toying with it. When Furen grew older, it became his turn to handle the dagger frequently.

Furen sheathed the dagger, then placed it inside the inner lining of his loose-fitting clothing, feeling the cold blade against his skin. Unlike the tight-fitting clothing popular at the time, Furen preferred looser garments, which conveniently concealed the dagger without revealing its outline.

After a few attempts to envelop the dagger in his spiritual energy, Furen suddenly felt as though his head was being hammered. An unintelligible sound, somewhere between muttering and shouting, echoed in his ears. At first, it was like a whispering mosquito, prompting an irritating urge to listen closely. But when focused on, the noise swelled into a deafening roar, threatening to shatter his thoughts with its destructive force.

It felt as though a thousand needles pierced Furen's mind, leaving him as disoriented as someone forced to stay awake for three consecutive days only to be dragged into class under a teacher's watchful eye. The dizziness and nausea were overwhelming, yet Furen had no outlet for his frustration.

Struggling to suppress his mounting hysteria, Furen staggered into his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed. He somehow managed to assume a meditative posture, pulling his chaotic thoughts into order. Exhausted, Furen eventually slipped into unconsciousness.

When Furen groggily awoke the next morning, he found his clothing in disarray. Fortunately, despite his hazy state the previous night, he had remembered to sheath the dagger securely, preventing it from harming him in his sleep. Still, the blade had left his torso aching from its pressure.

Placing the dagger on his bedroom desk, Furen rubbed the bruise on his stomach, which had turned a deep red and was beginning to blue. He solemnly noted a crucial lesson: Never deplete your spiritual energy entirely, especially while still adapting to a potion's effects.

After a quick wash, Furen returned to his desk, where a beautiful calendar caught his eye. One of the dates—July 6—had been circled. Furen was certain he hadn't marked it, but he couldn't immediately decipher its significance.

After pondering briefly, Furen decided to check the secret library in his study to find records of tomorrow's celestial patterns. If his guess was correct, it was fortunate his "traversal" had occurred the day before. Otherwise, he might not have survived today.

Furen opened the seemingly ordinary bookshelf in the study, revealing an extensive secret collection. The books were neatly arranged, filling three or four shelves. After some thought, he pulled a black notebook from the upper-left corner.

This notebook, entirely handwritten in elegant script, bore the following inscription on its title page: "Martin Abraham's Astronomical Diary—A Gift for My Beloved Son, Furen."

Furen's mind was instantly flooded with memories of the warmth he shared with his father. Martin was an amateur writer with a scholarly demeanor and a professional lawyer. Furen, as a child, had dreamed of pulling the Abraham family out of obscurity and becoming as powerful as their ancestor, Bethel Abraham.

Martin's bedtime stories often recounted the glorious history of the Abraham family in the Fourth Epoch. Though Martin wished to shield Furen from the hardships of the extraordinary world, he still worked tirelessly to help his son avoid predictable dangers—like the annual full moon.

For his son's naïve dream, Martin, who had long abandoned serious astronomical pursuits, resumed his nightly stargazing and devoured books on celestial phenomena.

Unfortunately, in the mysterious world, even the greatest paternal love is insignificant. After five or six years of calculating the full moon's occurrences, Martin—having fully digested the "Astrologer" potion—turned his attention to the annual blood moon. He meticulously charted its dates in the back of his journal.

Tragedy struck shortly thereafter. One silent night, Martin inexplicably strangled himself to death. It was undoubtedly connected to an ancient entity, as the blood moon was tied to the "Original Moon." Furen dared not recall details about that entity, knowing even thinking about it could lead to corruption. Harboring hatred would only render Martin's sacrifice meaningless.

Furen, raised single-handedly by his father, was left with only bittersweet memories of Martin's kindness, which alternated with a gnawing guilt. These emotions gradually consumed him, transforming Furen into the reclusive shut-in he was now.