Vol3 Chapter 23 Romance of Library

The weekend arrived with the kind of quiet that felt almost suspicious.

Amos stood outside the third-year dormitory building beneath a bright morning sky, hands behind his back, golden hair falling neatly around his face. The Veil Ring did its job as always, keeping the usual pressure of his presence subdued, but it could do nothing about the gleam in his green eyes. That gleam was entirely self-inflicted.

He looked like someone on the verge of discovering a legendary ruin—or about to embark on a very noble kind of nonsense. A few passing students gave him a glance, then, those who valued their well-being, chose not to engage.

A minute later, the dorm door swung open.

Elena stepped out, not wearing her school uniform for once, and that alone made Amos pause a moment too long. Her outfit was simple—a fitted dark blouse, a long skirt that swayed with each step, and a light coat that fit her perfectly without trying to draw attention. She looked less like House Kyros’s tireless maid and more like an ordinary academy student who had somehow wandered into his life and quietly started making it better.

He pointed at her with grave seriousness.

“Elena.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

He nodded as if confirming a sacred truth.

“You look normal.”

Elena stared at him.

“That is not a compliment.”

“It absolutely is. You are so normal today that I almost do not recognize you.”

“I assure you I remain the same person.”

Amos circled her once, inspecting her outfit with the focused intensity of a jeweler evaluating a rare gem.

“Simple and neat. No expression that says you are about to criticize my every move.”

“I am still considering criticizing your first one.”

“The familiar warmth of home.”

Elena’s gaze slid sideways.

“You came here early just to comment on my clothes?”

Amos placed a hand over his chest.

“I came here to escort a dear companion on a noble expedition into the library.”

“What's with that expression?”

Amos immediately looked offended.

“What expression?”

“The one that says you’re about to steal something.”

He put on his most dignified face.

“Ridiculous. I would never steal. I would only claim an overlooked opportunity.”

Elena’s eyelid twitched.

“You mean steal.”

“Words are such harsh little things.”

She sighed once, very quietly. Then she noticed the small basket in his hand.

“What is that?”

Amos lifted it with pride.

“Snacks.”

Elena stared.

“For the library.”

“Yes.”

“You brought snacks to look for a secret book.”

“Correct.”

“What secret book?”

“The one that will give me power.”

There was a long pause. Then Elena spoke, her voice as flat as if she were talking about the weather.

“Which book, specifically, is this?”

Amos began walking.

“The important kind.”

“That narrows nothing.”

“The kind tucked away in a dusty corner, sealed by a long-forgotten scholar, penned by a genius too wise for this world, forced to lock their knowledge within a single forbidden tome.”

Elena followed beside him with unhurried steps.

“You mean a restricted text.”

“Exactly.”

“The academy library does have restricted texts.”

Amos stopped so suddenly Elena nearly walked into him. His head turned with terrifying speed.

“It does?”

“Yes.”

His eyes lit up.

“Then there absolutely must be one or two that grant power.”

“Elaborate on ‘grant power.’”

“Ancient techniques. Lost movement arts. Secret mana circulation methods. A sword manual that makes me impossible to defeat. An alchemy text that gives eternal youth. Something like that.”

Elena looked at him for a moment.

“Most of those would be banned.”

“That means they are valuable.”

“That is not how it works.”

“I am aware.”

Elena didn’t respond. She had long ago realized that some of Amos’s remarks were less about genuine beliefs and more about quirks of his personality.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the academy library, where Amos paused at the entrance. The place was massive. Tall windows lined the front wall in endless rows, revealing a vast interior of tiered shelves, gleaming reading tables, ladders, and tucked-away study nooks. Even from the doorway, the scent of old paper, polished wood, and decades-old magic seemed to seep from the very bones of the building.

Amos inhaled deeply, his expression turned reverent.

“This,” he said, almost whispering, “smells like opportunities.”

Elena folded her arms.

“This is where students come to read.”

Amos ignored her and stepped inside.

The library was quiet and calm, filled with the gentle rustle of turning pages. A handful of students were scattered across the main hall—some reading, some taking notes, others feigning focus while actually napping with impressive dedication.

At the front desk, the librarian sat with the steady patience of someone who had endured every type of student imaginable.

Unfortunately for her, Amos was one of them. He approached the desk with flawless politeness.

“Good morning.”

The librarian looked up.

Her expression changed slightly as she recognized him.

“Good morning.”

Amos smiled beautifully.

“I am here on a sacred mission.”

The librarian looked past him to Elena.

Then back to him.

“What kind of mission?”

Amos lowered his voice.

“A search.”

“For what?”

He leaned in.

“For a secret book.”

The librarian closed her eyes for a moment.

“When you say secret book, do you mean the restricted section?”

Amos froze. He slowly turned to Elena.

“Elena.”

“Yes.”

“I believe I have been deceived by vocabulary.”

“You mean by your imagination.”

“That too.”

The librarian pinched the bridge of her nose.

“If you are here to browse the restricted section, you need faculty approval.”

Amos straightened immediately.

“Wonderful. Please bring the faculty.”

“No.”

“That was a faster refusal than I expected.”

“You do not get to wander into restricted texts because you feel like it.”

“I do not feel like it. I am very serious.”

“That is worse.”

Elena, standing neatly to the side, looked entirely too amused for someone with such a deadpan face.

The librarian, clearly unwilling to spend the morning arbitrating the philosophical crimes of House Kyros, handed Amos a guest reading slip and sent them toward the public shelves.

“Start there,” she said. “And do not wander off.”

Amos accepted the slip. Then he turned to Elena with new determination.

“The secret book is nearby. I feel it. In fact, I can taste it already”

“You are looking for an excuse to act mysterious.”

“That is only partially true.”

“You do not even know what you want to find.”

“I know the greatness when I sense it.”

Elena gave him a sidelong glance.

“Then perhaps greatness is shaped like a manual on proper reading.”

“Booooooooooringggggg.”

They ventured further into the library.

Amos drifted from shelf to shelf with uncommon excitement, scanning titles, murmuring under his breath, and occasionally making half-hidden grabs for books that seemed irresistibly intriguing.

Elena observed him for a moment before speaking.

“You are aware the restricted section is not labeled with a glowing sign that says ‘secret power up book.’”

Amos, crouched in front of a shelf, did not look up.

“That is exactly what someone trying to hide secret power up books would want you to think. Elena, there is no hidden conspiracy in a public academy library.”

“Then why are there three locked cabinets over there?”

Amos looked up instantly.

“Where?”

Elena pointed.

“Those are archives.”

Amos stood.

“Archives.”

“Yes.”

“Archives can contain secrets.”

“They can also contain records of old examinations.”

He headed for the cabinets with a spark of hope, but paused when he noticed the glass case beside them. Inside sat a stack of old, meticulously preserved books, each with a handwritten label. He leaned in, then frowned. The titles were anything but useful:

History of the Northern Border.

Basic Mana Theory.

A Record of Scholarly Donations.

Proper Handling of Returned Books.

Amos stared at the last one for a long moment. Then he let out a small, disappointed sound.

“Nothing.”

Elena, now standing beside him, glanced at the shelf.

“I told you.”

“There should still be one.”

“One what?”

“One hidden gem. One forgotten technique. One ancient inheritance wrapped in paper.”

“Why?”

“Because that is how these things work.”

“That is how fiction works.”

Amos turned slowly toward her. His face, for once, was unusually honest.

“It is also how I want to spend the day.”

Elena paused.

His expression shifted so seamlessly it nearly caught her off guard. No flashy grin, no over-the-top claim of greatness—just the small, quiet truth beneath it all. Sure, he was chasing something impossible, but that wasn’t the whole story. He’d brought her here, and he was clearly enjoying their time together, even if he kept up the act that this was all some grand quest for forbidden knowledge.

Elena looked away first.

“Then keep searching.”

Amos blinked. She continued, voice calm.

“If there is a secret book, we will find it.”

He stared at her.

“You are indulging me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Elena reached for a book, opened it, and glanced through the first few pages.

“Because you are easier to manage when you are in a good mood.”

Amos clutched his chest.

“That is not what I meant, and yet somehow it is exactly what you would say.”

“You asked a question.”

“I regret asking it.”

“Good.”

He huffed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips.

For the next hour, they scoured the shelves.

Amos examined each one with exaggerated suspicion, while Elena—despite herself—pointed out spots where the binding seals were worn, the arrangement seemed off, or the catalog labels had glaring gaps. Each time, Amos perked up, only to find the “mysterious missing section” held nothing more than beginner herb guides or essays on accounting.

The very idea of accounting in a place of learning was an affront to him.

At one point, he came across a dusty old book with a dramatic cover and almost declared victory. The title read: On the Preservation of Rare Tea Leaves. He gazed at it in silence before placing it back on the shelf. Elena peered at him over the top of her own book.

“You are taking this personally.”

“I absolutely am.”

“You are also making it obvious.”

“That is because I have been betrayed by this library.”

“You have been betrayed by your imagination.”

Amos leaned against the shelf, folded his arms, and looked up at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there.

“Do you think there is really nothing?”

Elena’s gaze softened slightly.

“There may be something useful in the archives.”

Amos turned to her at once.

“Then—”

“But not because of secret destiny.”

His shoulders sagged.

“You always ruin the mood.”

“I prefer being realistic.”

“That is a sad way to describe yourself.”

“It is accurate.”

He looked at her for a second, then sighed dramatically.

“Well. If the secret book does not exist, then this trip is a failure.”

Elena shut her own book.

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

She stepped closer to the reading table by the window and set the book down, then casually moved aside the chair opposite it.

“Sit down.”

Amos blinked.

“What?”

“Sit.”

He stared at her.

“Elena, we are in the middle of a noble quest.”

“You are standing in a library.”

“Exactly.”

“And?”

“And the quest should continue.”

“It can continue after you sit.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“You sound suspiciously like you are trying to distract me.”

Elena folded her hands.

“I am.”

Amos was silent for a second.

Then he pulled out the chair with a small sigh and sat.

A moment later, Elena sat across from him.

The quiet of the library wrapped around them once more. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting a warm glow over the table and turning the floating dust into specks of gold.

Amos looked at the book he’d pulled from the shelf, then at Elena, and back again at the book.

Elena waited. That was one of the things she had always been good at.

At last Amos spoke, much quieter than before.

“Do you want tea?”

Elena raised an eyebrow.

“Here?”

“I have snacks.”

“That was not my question.”

He leaned back in his chair and looked far too pleased with himself.

“It was my way of saying I came prepared.”

“Elaborate.”

“I thought we might stay a while.”

Elena studied him.

Then she saw it.

The whole absurd secret-book hunt had been clear from the start, at least to her. He was chasing the thrill of feeling useful, clever, and in pursuit of some impossible advantage with that boundless enthusiasm only Amos could muster.

But beneath it all, it was simpler.

He’d brought her here just to spend time together.

Amos studied her face closely, as if bracing for her to laugh at him.

She didn’t.

Instead, she picked up one of the snacks he’d brought, unwrapped it with deliberate calm, and took a bite.

“I knew it,” he muttered.

“Knew what?”

“That you came here for the secret book too. Of course you are. That's every student's romance.”

Elena swallowed.

“I did not.”

“Liar.”

“I am sitting in a library with you on purpose.”

“That proves my point.”

She looked at him flatly. Amos leaned his chin on one hand.

Elena did not answer that.

The library stayed hushed around them, shelves rising high on all sides, crammed with books brimming with knowledge, history, and limitless paper-bound possibilities. The secret book was still missing. Yet Amos, glancing across the table at Elena in her everyday clothes, sunlight brushing her sleeves and a snack in her hand, looked almost content. After a pause, he picked up the book before him, flipped it open to a random page, and began to read. Elena watched him quietly for a moment.

Then, in the same calm tone she always used when correcting his nonsense, she said,

“Young Master.”

“Yes?”

“You have been smiling for several minutes.”

Amos blinked.

He touched his face, found she was correct, and quickly looked away.

“That is because I have discovered something valuable.”

“What?”

He looked at her, his grin returning.

“Maybe I did find my power up.”