After running into his mother, Cassius went to the royal library, but two guards blocked the way.
"Only the royal family, founding families, and those with special passes may enter," one guard said sternly.
"Oh?" Cassius scoffed, pointing at the Blackwood crest on his suit. "Don't you know who I am? I'm Cassius Blackwood, Duke Blackwood's youngest son."
The guards exchanged nervous looks. He was an illegitimate child, but neither wanted to explain to the Duke why his favorite son had been turned away.
"Right this way." They parted.
In his past life, Cassius heard a rumor that the princess found a powerful artifact capable of controlling the strings behind its user's awakening, embedded in the eyes of the painting of Emperor Karavan, the first emperor of the Karavan Empire.
If he could find it, he wouldn't need a system. He could be strong without being a slave to those ridiculous quests.
But three things got in the way of finding the painting:
There were hundreds of paintings in the library.
He didn't know what Emperor Karavan looked like.
None of the paintings had name tags.
Apparently, anyone smart enough to get a pass to the librart should be smart enough to recognize all of them.
An old lady in a mahogany chair called out to him. "Oh, you look just like Emperor Karavan did when he was younger."
'Really?'
He didn't ask where the painting was. He didn't trust strangers. He kept searching on his own.
'Logically, an emperor's portrait should be big and in the center.'
It wasn't.
After more than an hour, he found it in a far corner of the library. Cassius froze.
Compared to a child, it may have been a small resemblance. But compared to his former adult self, they were identical.
The painted gaze seemed to pierce the soul of anyone who dared look. The emperor was dressed so casually that no one would know he was emperor if he weren't sitting on the throne.
No, the throne wouldn't know it was made for an emperor if he weren't sitting on it.
'That throne was made for him. He belongs there.'
But something bothered Cassius.
Karavan had slept in a coma until he was sixteen. So why was there a book in his hand?
'Was he a fast learner? Could a man once declared braindead learn to speak and read in five years? And how did he know exactly what to do the moment the cracks opened?'
'Why was he so smart for someone who'd slept his whole life?'
Cassius plucked the eyes from the painting and held the two halves together to form a pearl. It began to vibrate, then rose into the air, glowing.
Before he knew it, he was sucked in and sent somewhere else.
A dark, empty void.