Kai could barely breathe.

His body ached where the mercenary's blow had thrown him against the stone floor.

Around him, pages fluttered through the air like wounded birds.

Bookshelves that had stood for generations crashed to the ground one after another.

His father struggled to stand.

His mother refused to leave his side.

Lyra and Finn desperately gathered scattered books before they could be trampled beneath armored boots.

Kai clenched his trembling fists.

Why...?

Why would anyone risk their lives... just for books?

As another shelf splintered apart, his mind drifted to a conversation from years ago—a memory he had never truly understood until this moment.

Kai had been only eight years old.

It was the annual Festival of Founding, when the Kingdom of Valerion celebrated the birth of the System and honored every recognized profession.

Blacksmiths forged ceremonial swords.

Farmers displayed the season's finest harvests.

Alchemists brewed colorful potions that sparkled beneath the summer sun.

Knights demonstrated swordsmanship before cheering crowds.

Even adventurers from distant cities came to display rare monsters they had defeated.

But while every profession celebrated in the village square...

The Aldren family remained inside the library.

Young Kai pouted as he watched children his age running outside.

"They're all having fun."

His father smiled while carefully polishing an old leather tome.

"So are we."

Kai crossed his arms.

"This is work."

His mother laughed softly.

"To us, taking care of books is fun."

Kai looked around.

Hundreds of shelves.

Thousands of books.

More dust than people.

He simply couldn't understand.

"What makes these old books so special?"

His father gently closed the volume in his hands.

Instead of answering immediately, he walked toward one of the oldest shelves in the building.

Its wood had darkened with age.

The carvings along its edges had nearly disappeared.

He carefully removed a thick book wrapped in faded blue cloth.

"This," Edric said, "is older than our kingdom."

Kai's eyes widened.

"Really?"

"It existed before your great-great-grandfather was born."

"Before the castle?"

"Long before."

His father placed the book on the reading table.

The leather cover bore no title.

Only a single silver crest.

A sword resting atop an open book.

His mother smiled.

"Do you know who wrote it?"

Kai shook his head.

"The First Sword Saint."

Kai blinked repeatedly.

"The hero who defeated the Crimson Dragon?"

"The very same."

Kai nearly fell out of his chair.

"A hero wrote a book?"

Edric chuckled.

"Every great hero writes eventually."

He slowly opened the ancient pages.

Instead of stories...

The book contained handwritten notes.

Sword diagrams.

Battle formations.

Corrections.

Mistakes.

Personal observations.

Some pages had entire paragraphs crossed out.

Others carried stains from dried blood.

Kai stared in amazement.

"This isn't a story."

"No."

"It's a journal."

"A training journal."

Edric nodded proudly.

"The Sword Saint believed true strength should never die with its owner."

"So he left everything he learned."

Kai carefully traced one illustration with his finger.

"Everything?"

"His victories."

"His failures."

"The techniques that worked."

"The ones that nearly killed him."

"The monsters he couldn't defeat."

"The companions he lost."

"The mistakes he begged future generations not to repeat."

Kai swallowed.

"So..."

"This is more valuable than his sword?"

His father smiled.

"Much more."

That afternoon, Edric led Kai deeper into the restricted archives.

It was the first time Kai had ever entered the oldest wing of the library.

The room felt different.

Cooler.

Quieter.

The shelves were crafted from black oak reinforced with enchanted steel.

Unlike the public library, every cabinet here remained locked.

Dozens of magical seals shimmered faintly across heavy iron doors.

Kai whispered,

"Why are these locked?"

His mother answered this time.

"Because these books built kingdoms."

She unlocked the nearest cabinet.

Inside rested only six books.

Nothing more.

Kai frowned.

"Only six?"

"They're enough."

Edric carefully lifted another tome.

"This one was written by King Aldemar after the Battle of Three Rivers."

Another.

"The personal field notes of the Royal Healer who ended the Ash Plague."

Another.

"The engineering journal used to construct the Sky Fortress."

Kai looked from one book to another.

None glittered.

None radiated magic.

They looked...

ordinary.

"I don't understand."

His father knelt beside him.

"Kai."

"What wins wars?"

"Swords."

"What makes swords?"

"Blacksmiths."

"What makes blacksmiths?"

Kai hesitated.

"...Practice?"

His father smiled.

"Knowledge."

"What creates stronger armor?"

"Knowledge."

"What discovers new medicines?"

"Knowledge."

"What teaches generals to win impossible battles?"

"Knowledge."

His father's voice became gentler.

"The greatest weapon has never been steel."

"It has always been wisdom."

They continued walking through the archive.

Every shelf carried a brass plaque.

Royal Military Records

Engineering Division

Ancient Agriculture

Medical Discoveries

Monster Research

Royal Cartography

Heroic Memoirs

Kai noticed something unusual.

Many shelves had empty spaces.

Entire rows where books should have been.

He pointed.

"Where did those go?"

Silence.

His parents exchanged glances.

His mother answered carefully.

"They were borrowed."

"They've been gone a long time."

"Will they come back?"

"...We hope so."

Kai accepted the answer.

But years later...

He would remember the sadness in her eyes.

Before leaving the archive, Edric stopped before an enormous mural painted across the far wall.

It depicted hundreds of librarians standing beside kings.

Beside heroes.

Beside scholars.

Beside ordinary villagers.

Each held a single book.

Above them were carved the words:

"Knowledge Outlives Every Crown."

Kai tilted his head.

"Did we really stand beside kings?"

His father laughed.

"We stood behind them."

"Every king who ever ruled this land studied here."

"Every royal strategist trained here."

"Every legendary knight borrowed books from these shelves."

"Even the greatest heroes returned after every journey."

Kai looked amazed.

"They came... here?"

His mother nodded proudly.

"They didn't come looking for treasure."

"They came looking for answers."

That evening, Kai asked the question that had remained inside him all day.

"If our family protects all this knowledge..."

"Why aren't librarians famous?"

His father looked toward the sunset shining through the library windows.

"Because history remembers the hero who wins the battle."

"Not the teacher who showed him how."

His mother gently brushed Kai's hair.

"We don't need statues."

"We don't need songs."

"Our reward is knowing that someone, somewhere, became stronger because a book was waiting for them."

Kai smiled.

"When I grow up..."

"I want to protect books too."

His parents laughed warmly.

His father placed a hand on Kai's shoulder.

"Then remember this."

"A librarian doesn't guard paper."

"He guards tomorrow."

The memory shattered.

Kai returned to the present as another bookshelf collapsed with a deafening crash.

The mercenaries continued tearing through centuries of collected wisdom, ripping apart catalogs and tossing priceless manuscripts aside as though they were worthless kindling.

One of the invaders held up an old journal.

"Captain!"

"This one contains battlefield formations!"

The captain glanced at it only briefly.

"Leave it."

"We're not here for common military records."

Another mercenary pulled several royal journals from a cabinet.

"What about these?"

"Leave them."

"We seek only one thing."

"The Forgotten Collection."

Kai's heart pounded.

Forgotten Collection...?

He had spent years wandering the dusty back shelves, reading books no one else cared about.

Yet he had never heard those words before.

The captain slowly walked toward the oldest section of the library, his cold gaze sweeping across the hidden corridors beyond.

A cruel smile spread across his face.

"The Aldrens have protected it for centuries."

"They know exactly where it is."

As his father struggled to rise once more, Kai finally understood.

The invaders had never come to steal the kingdom's history.

They had come for something so ancient... that even the kingdom itself had nearly forgotten it.