"I see..." Aether said.
After a long conversation that lasted nearly an hour, Atlas finally finished his explanation and waited.
"So, what you want me to do is investigate the people on the list you gave me?" Aelia asked.
Atlas nodded eagerly, hope gleaming in his eyes as he waited for an answer.
"What I don’t understand," Eva suddenly said, "is how you found these names..." She had voiced the question on everyone’s mind.
Curiosity among those present was growing, but there was nothing they could do. He had no idea how to answer that question.
Which was precisely why he knew he had to come up with a ridiculous lie.
"Step outside, please," Atlas suddenly said to those around him.
The student committee members and the professor exchanged confused looks, clearly not understanding his request.
"If I step outside, the connection may be broken, young man," the professor pointed out.
Atlas shook his head. "If you add a little mana before leaving, there won’t be a problem."
"This will damage the orb beyond repair. A single magic orb sells for an enormous price—close to fifty thousand gold pieces," the professor replied.
Magic orbs were indeed marvelous artifacts, representing the pinnacle of communication magic. They were the highest achievement of modern magical technology. It was indeed the greatest tool ever made by the hands of the dwarves, the finest craftsmen of any race in history.
Even the capital’s public transport system wasn’t made with such quality and care. After all, these communication spheres had been invaluable during wartime.
Atlas had seen it, especially in his previous life. There was no count of the number of massacres, no count of the number of people who had died because communications had been cut, or even because communications had fallen into the hands of different people.
"I’ll pay. I have that much gold," Atlas said.
Eva stared at her little brother in astonishment for a few seconds before asking, "Where did you get that much money? You didn’t rob anyone, did you?"
"I did get them myself, sister. Do you know how many dungeons I cleared? I may have told you one, but it was actually more than that. I lied to avoid getting beaten up by you," Atlas admitted.
"Are you sure, young man, it’s quite a sum?" the professor asked, clearly wanting to make sure Atlas’ pocket didn’t get hurt.
"Yes, Professor," Atlas said, and then added, "Please, this is a private matter."
The professor sighed, then nodded and left the room with the student committee members, infusing the sphere with as much mana as Atlas had in his body.
Meanwhile, Atlas had already found a way to complete the lie he was about to tell:
Aether, Aelia, and Eva all stood up at the same time as soon as Atlas pulled the book from his inventory.
All three of them stared in disbelief.
"How?" Eva demanded, the young woman’s eyes were wide open.
Atlas nodded and said, "I found it in one of the dungeons I explored. It’s a book filled with countless pieces of information. I haven’t fully examined its contents yet, but as soon as I realized what this diary was, I understood what I had to do."
Only the three of them truly understood the weight of those words.
What Atlas had done was seen as absolute stupidity in the eyes of the entire wizarding world.
Of course, he had only used this wish as an excuse. After all, the imperial family was not going to try to steal this book from Atlas.
The Sage’s Diary was a legendary artifact. According to rumors, it was one of the objects that Chaos, the creator himself, had placed in the world with his own hands after shaping existence.
Prophecies spoke of exactly five such books, known only to the intelligent races.
But their value went beyond the knowledge they contained.
Each Sage’s Diary held a single wish from the moment it was found until it was used.
And these were no ordinary wishes.
They were far more powerful than simple requests for wealth or power.
The Sage’s Diary granted the ability to ask the creator himself a single question, and with that, Atlas seemed like he asked for the knowledge to hunt all of the devil worshippers.
It was the kind of artifact that wizards would wage wars over—where millions would die just for the chance to possess one.
The fact that Atlas had somehow obtained it meant that he was no longer just a target for the devil worshippers—he was now a target for the entire world.
"Why?" Aether muttered, staring at Atlas as if pitying him. "You could have used the wish for something far more valuable. You could have learned the aura arts, mastered magic, and become one of the most powerful people in the world..."
Aether was a kind-hearted emperor—there was no doubt about that.
Atlas paused for a moment, his uncle’s words striking something deep within him.
Of course, he hadn’t used the wish.
Every bit of knowledge he possessed came from his previous life.
Yet, despite everything, despite the suffering he had endured, he was still relentlessly trying to save everyone.
Even if he was no longer the hero he once was, the essence of heroism still burned within him.
"Uncle," Atlas suddenly said.
His tone drew Aether’s full attention.
"I’m already a mage with three magic rings, and I’ve taken steps to form my fourth. Even if I’ve only made thirty percent progress, it’s still progress. On top of that, I’m only a few steps away from reaching level two in aura cultivation. I can gain power with my own hands—I don’t give a damn about the creator."
It was impossible to describe how many gods and goddesses were left speechless by those words.
Blasphemous as they were, Atlas spoke them without hesitation.
But he had every right to.
After all, despite his respect for Chaos, the gods and goddesses had long since bound themselves to a rule—they could not intervene.
Even with all his power, Chaos had abandoned everything.
He was merely an old man content to watch.
Atlas smiled and calmly finished his thoughts:
"I’d rather save every race that walks this world than waste my wish on knowledge, dear uncle."