The Librarian Who Accidentally Raised the Seven Calamities Chapter 5: [5] Blood and Ink

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The air didn't just get heavy; it started to smell like a thunderstorm was about to happen inside my lungs. Ozone, cold stone, and the sharp, metallic tang of mana that made my teeth ache. Duke Alaric didn't just walk into a room. He invaded it. His boots hit the floorboards with a heavy, rhythmic thud that felt like a countdown. Behind him was Archmage Varos—a man who looked less like a scholar and more like a hawk in silk robes. I didn't turn around. I couldn't. Not because I was being a "mysterious mastermind," but because my neck muscles had locked up again. 'Of course. The worst possible people in the worst possible moment.. I hope they don't expect me to stand up; I'm pretty sure my left foot is asleep.' "Elias is a fool, but he's a talented one," Alaric's voice echoed off the high ceiling. It was cold, flat, and carried the kind of weight that made the dust on my desk jump. "He says this room fought him. He says you—a child who can't even cast a spark—neutralized a Seventh-Tier scroll." I kept staring at the wall. 'Technically, the dust did the work. I just poked it. Details, Dad. Details.' "Varos," the Duke commanded. "Strip the secrets from this room. Find the source of this... anomaly." The Archmage stepped forward. I could feel his mana creeping across the floor like a thousand invisible spiders. It was invasive, oily, and it was poking at things in the Archive that didn't want to be poked. [Warning: Hostile Mana Intrusion detected.]** [The Archive's 'Immune System' is reacting. Please remain calm.]** 'Calm? I'm a six-year-old in a chair, you stupid box! Tell the building to stop growling!' The library didn't growl. It sighed. A low, vibrating hum started in the floorboards. It wasn't a "magical" sound; it was the sound of a mountain preparing to slide. Varos's face went from professional curiosity to pure, unadulterated terror in three seconds. "My Lord, wait—" Varos started, his staff glowing a frantic, blinding white. "The resonance! It's not coming from the boy, it's coming from the—" Crr-ack. A single shelf to my right groaned. A cloud of dust—blacker and heavier than usual—billowed out, swallowing Varos's light. The Archmage's mana was being eaten. Not blocked, not deflected. Just... consumed. I felt a sharp, stabbing heat behind my eyes. My vision blurred. 'System, abort! My head is going to pop!' [Integration: 15% (Critical Spike).]** [Condition: Life-Linked Override.]** I felt something warm and wet hit my lip. I wiped it with the back of my hand. Black. My blood was starting to look like ink. I didn't want to be a hero. I just wanted the pressure to stop. I reached out and gripped the edge of my desk so hard the wood splintered. 'Enough!' I screamed in my head. 'Just shut up and be quiet!' The room went dead silent. The black dust fell to the floor like lead pellets. Varos fell to his knees, gasping for air, his expensive staff cracked down the middle. I tried to take a breath, but the world was spinning. I felt a hand—a large, calloused hand—catch my shoulder just as I started to tilt off the chair. Duke Alaric was looking down at me. For the first time in six years, he wasn't looking through me. He was looking at me. His eyes were wide, and for a split second, I saw something that looked like fear. "Blood..." he whispered, his thumb brushing against the black smear on my chin. "It's ink." 'It's a medical emergency, you idiot. Call a doctor, not an exorcist.' I wanted to say it, but my vision finally went dark. The last thing I heard was Varos's trembling voice. "He... he didn't just stop me, My Lord. He grounded the entire building's wrath into his own veins. He's not a boy... he's the seal." [Skill Unlocked: Ink-Sight (Passive).]** [Status: Comatose. Recovery initiated.]** 'Great,' I thought as the darkness swallowed me. 'I'm a human cork. Worst. Reincarnation. Ever.'