Chapter 27: The Secret Library

Fatty Wang was thoughtfully introducing a variety of books to Meimu.

Alas, Meimu was nothing short of a bug at this moment!

Opening these massive tomes, their covers wrapped in unknown leathers, the crisp rustle of pages echoed—each time a page entered Meimu’s field of vision, his pupils spun at breathtaking speed.

No high-speed camera could match the velocity of Meimu’s eyes at this instant.

He began to understand why there was a daily twenty-one hour period of weakness.

All knowledge was being force-fed into his mind, shoved in as if by a chisel—an experience neither pleasant nor comfortable.

But what could he do? Without mastering this knowledge early, he could never escape the pitiful state of a weakling in battle.

Never mind if the evil master Casillas himself showed up—even if just a Fallen One appeared, Meimu would be helpless.

“In the last millennium, the magic on Earth began to dry up for reasons unknown. With the free-flowing magic that powerful minds once summoned at will gone, the number of wizards dwindled. In desperation, wizards sought new sources of magic.”

“Wizard families who failed to find new sources, lacking the stimulus of magic, saw their visible magical bloodlines fall silent, often ending their lineage altogether.”

“Kamar-Taj, keeper of the secret art of drawing magic from the multiverse, entered a period of rapid growth. At its height, one hundred thousand apprentices studied magic there. This caused the rulers of the day to panic…”

“Our magic begins with sensing the magical energy flowing through cracks in the multiversal space!”

Meimu recited from the ‘General Foundations’.

Ordinary reading wouldn’t faze Fatty Wang, but when Meimu began to recite in Sanskrit at a rate of at least twenty words per second, it sounded like a pure incantation—compressed and layered with the highest-level technique.

Yet, if you strained your ears, you could make out every word Meimu uttered.

Not a single mistake, not a single misplaced sentence.

“What a monstrous super-genius!” Fatty Wang muttered internally.

In the twenty seconds it took him to cross from one bookshelf to another, Meimu had already finished all 312 pages of the ‘General Foundations’.

Meimu, like a tiger pinning its prey, held down the tome and smiled at Fatty Wang.

Go ahead and perform, oh no—actually, I’m just waiting for your next book.

Fatty Wang was left speechless.

As an author, the most aggravating thing is a reader claiming, “I can read faster than you write!” He never imagined that as the guardian of the library, he’d one day face the absurdity of “finding books slower than reading them.”

Finishing a book and remembering everything is already freakish enough.

Fatty Wang was merely a librarian; he had no authority to test whether Meimu truly understood and internalized what he read. That was the Ancient One’s prerogative.

If someone came to the library simply to read, there was nothing anyone could fault.

Thus, it became a rhythm of Fatty Wang handing over a book only for Meimu to finish it before he could offer the next.

This was beyond “top student” territory!

Perhaps he should consider ‘The Brain’—the world’s strongest minds?

Fatty Wang was utterly out of options.

At this moment, Meimu naturally extended his finger toward a row of books deep in the library. “What are those?”

Fatty Wang’s oily face twitched, but he answered, “Those are the Ancient One’s private collection.”

“So they can’t be borrowed?”

“In Kamar-Taj, knowledge may be shared, but some things cannot be practiced. Aside from the Sorcerer Supreme, no one else can understand those books.”

Meimu curled his lips, clearly implying—so, I can look, then.

Fatty Wang didn’t forbid him.

So Meimu slowly walked toward the shelves.

“Hmm?” The moment he stepped across the midpoint between two bookshelves, marked by the ancient patterned tiles on the floor, Meimu experienced a fleeting sensation of weightlessness. It felt as if passing through a membrane of water, or as if transported from a smoggy city to a pristine oxygen-rich forest.

Was this the so-called barrier?

Meimu didn’t know if his entry had triggered the Ancient One’s awareness.

But his conscience was clear.

Fatty Wang, as a rigid guardian, only did what the rules allowed.

Meimu, as a flexible soul from the Celestial Empire, held to the belief: everything is permitted unless expressly forbidden. As for violating the rules and facing serious consequences if caught…

Well, as long as you don’t get caught, what’s the problem?

In a sense, letting Meimu into Kamar-Taj was like nurturing a poisonous weed! Not even Meimu himself knew what mischief he might stir up.

Reading had never been Meimu’s strength, but for the sake of his life, he had to devote himself wholeheartedly.

In the original story, Doctor Strange directly found the forbidden book from which Casillas had stolen pages.

Meimu was stuck: Not a single hint—how was he supposed to find it?

The place was too vast for words.

In the movie, the Ancient One’s library occupied just half a small room—a few bookshelves, nothing more.

But what lay before Meimu now, he wasn’t exaggerating—compared to this library, even the British Library was a pale shadow.

From outside, it seemed only a hundred or so books hovered in midair, shackled like prisoners in chains. To the uninitiated, walking up would reveal and allow them to touch the same scene.

Yet with Meimu’s automatic translation, and the Sanskrit that flowed from his lips, everything changed.

“Aludona Ktor…” He spoke the book’s name, and upon touching it, the scene before him fragmented.

The book in his vision split into two, then four, then countless.

An endless cascade of images spun and turned, forming before Meimu a massive puzzle—one whose pieces numbered in the tens of thousands—assembling into a door unimaginable to outsiders.

A frosted arch, as if sealed in a frozen wasteland, swung open.

Looking through this portal, at least eighty thousand magical tomes awaited.

There was nothing to be done—Meimu stood like a country boy entering the big city for the first time, gazing left and right before the magical gateway.

At this moment, Meimu sensed Fatty Wang approaching.

“An extraordinary genius! Only one in a thousand sorcerers can see the secrets hidden in the books,” Fatty Wang praised sincerely.

“They don’t speak Sanskrit?” Meimu was surprised.

“Many do. But unless they construct a portal or mystical space in their minds while chanting, the incantation won’t truly activate.”