Bibliophobia is an Odyssey Event, and the forty seventh in the series. It is scheduled to start on April 20, 2016 at 12:00 AM (PST) and end on April 22, 2016 at 7:59 PM (PST). It is the second episode of the Dark Stigma story and first in the Aggrandom storyline.
Feature Changes[]
New Event UR (Ringed) Smoke-Averse Eleight is available before the start of the event in the Ascension Saga Card Pack.
Odyssey Skill Cards[]
- History Observer Aithris (UR) Test of Strength Card. Gives 2x the Items regardless of Skill level. Gives 3x the Items when evolved with maxed out Skill.
- Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) Boosts the number of Event Items acquired by up to 1.2x regardless of Skill Level.
- (Unravel) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.3x boost.
- (Formation) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.4x boost.
- (Pansophy) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.5x boost.
- (Dissolve) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.6x boost.
- (Proud Mind) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.7x boost.
- (Deference) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.8x boost.
- (Diminished) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 1.9x boost.
- (Reluctant) Smoke-Averse Eleight (UR) 2.0x boost.
- (Innervated) Wisdom Goddess Eleight (UR EX) 4.0x boost.
Story[]
You had scarcely moved from your splayed position upon the soaring dragon's back. The mark of evil upon your chest, too, had given no sign of fading. Elimval sat by your side, her face wrought with concern.
"Are you feeling better yet, Hero?"
Resembling a gash, the Stigma itself was deep crimson with clotted blood. However, its only influence upon you at the moment was a dull pain. Though you were grateful to be in possession of your right mind, there was no telling when the darkness would take over. As you pondered the next course of action, Salvador turned from where he sat on the dragon's shoulders, hands at the reins.
"Hey, there's a huge library called the Wehmkin Archive not far from here. If you want to look into this Stigma business, there's no better place. It's run by a goddess named Eleight, and she might know a thing or two herself."
"Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea! If we can discover its cause, we may be able to prove the Hero's innocence!"
"I doubt you'll be so lucky, but they might help you scrounge up some clues at least."
"I suppose that's true... but regardless, it should be a worthwhile visit!"
Ever since you had woken up in the Valley of K'wyen, your memories had been vague and unordered. All you could discern was that something had happened after leaving the volcanic caverns that had brought you to a world that was not quite your own. Here, creatures twisted by evil known as Stigmals were rampant, and they would not die until their core, called a Komora Stone, was "plucked." The so-called Lightholders were a force specializing in their eradication, but their barbaric methods were unpardonable. You fought against them while struggling with the ominous implications of the remnants of your memory. That was when a pair of enigmatic oracles descended from the sky and accused you of killing the goddess of harmony. From that moment, you were an unequivocal criminal in the eyes of the empire, and were further condemned by the appearance of the Stigma upon your breast. It was only with the aid of Salvador, a mercenary archer, that you were able to escape from imminent punishment. It seemed he was impressed by your efforts in rescuing the dragon you now rode from the clutches of the Lightholders. You could only assume he felt a bond of some kind with the winged beasts...
......
Eleight glared at the creeping smoke. There was a distinctly unnatural quality about it, for it lacked the telltale heat of fire.
"...What could be the cause?"
Her query was absorbed by the silence as the haze writhed along the stone floors. She searched her mind for other possibilities, and that very act held another purpose. The goddess was the manifestation of the greatest accumulation of knowledge on the planet, the Wehmkin Archive. By methodically delving through her mental stores, she could read the contents of any book within the massive library, in addition to learning its indexed location. However, there were suddenly hundreds of books that she could not view. A troublesome realization she was loath to admit, for ignorance was the greatest offense in her eyes, but with the draining of her memory came the draining of her stamina. Even sitting did not bring rest.
The crisis started with a simple wisp of smoke. As there was nothing more threatening to books than fire, all haste was made to locate its source. To her horror, none who investigated ever returned, and for the first time since her birth long ago, she was alone. Attempts across several days of searching her mind to identify the cause also proved fruitless while the smoke continued to build. It was imperative she resolve the incident, but she felt it disgraceful that one with her talent deign herself to physically open a book.
Through the window, she noticed a dragon flying through the skies. Presuming it to be ridden by a Lightholder already engaged in some other matter, she huffed with disappointment. Though she did not doubt they would come to her aid were she to request it, she ventured to keep the issue private. Their forceful methods had not escaped her notice and she did not wish to risk becoming suspected as a Stigmal. The patrols were only growing more frequent and intrusive as they searched for the recently identified originator of the Stigma phenomenon. Not only was their mark clearly carved into their chest instead of behind the ear, but they had murdered the goddess of harmony, Belgantier. Whether the mark developed spontaneously or due to the death of the goddess was yet obscure. None of that held any bearing upon Eleight's situation, however; the mere announcement of her dilemma would preclude a fall from grace at best. No vestige of weakness could be shown to the High Emperor Ildanev, be he present or not.
"What should I do?"
She ground her teeth in frustration, regretting her complete lack of aides. A great number of clerks served to keep the library in order, and nearly all were able to wield magic, proof of their intelligence. In exchange for perusing the records and stores of the Archive, all were expected to contribute some portion of their own knowledge in return. For that reason, the illiterate and the uneducated were not welcome. After all, it was necessary that one possess knowledge in order to attain it.
"If only Keoli were here..."
She was instrumental in enforcing the rule of no leeching at the Archive. However, she had been alongside those who left to investigate the smoke and did not return.
Another clerk came to the front of Eleight's mind: Aithris, whom she had not seen since before the smoke had appeared. She was a tome restorer and a gifted sorceress, but would shirk her assigned tasks in favor of reading the books she should have been fixing. One of her unique spells allowed her to insert herself into the setting of any book she pleased. Whenever she could not be found, Eleight could simply search the text for her description and locate her without fail. However, on the occasion she had escaped into a book within the book, then she would be beyond detection. Thinking an attempt would be worthwhile, Eleight combed for her through the millions of pages. Compared to the previous search, there were already some thousand more "unreadable" ones, bringing a concerned frown to her face.
"I hope she is somewhere safe... Mmm, what's this?"
In one particular book, there was a portrayal of a woman who closely matched Aithris' appearance.
"An inquisitive, raven-haired maiden who adored books..."
The sentence had absolutely no bearing on the surrounding events in the text, as if it had wandered in from a collection of poems. She was undoubtedly within that book. But when Eleight read the title, she was surprised not that she could not read it, but that it was unfamiliar to her.
"What's this... 'Mystic Sleuth Harriet'?"
It appeared that Aithris had taken her usual imprudence a step further by inserting herself into a piece of childish fiction that was likely her own property.
"The smoke has obscured a portion of the contents, but I can observe a scene of an explosion. Where could that foolish novel be anyway? There's no category for fiction here..."
As it had not been properly added to the collection, she renewed her concentration in hopes to locate the book through another search. However, she instead found another book that seemed readable, but was not, overwhelming her with a new sort of discomfort.
"Wh-what is the meaning...?"
Though she initially thought it was an effect of the smoke, she realized she could read it, but the contents themselves were utterly incomprehensible. The pages were all black, as if dipped in ink.
"The title is... 'The Tragedy of the Destitute'?"
As Aithris' book, it was similarly unknown, but it did not seem like hers for its ominous quality did not befit her capricious personality. Exerting her greatest concentration, she attempted to read it once more. Yet no matter how much she focused, she could not perceive a single phrase. It was as if each page was a complete void...
"Ah, something is finally coming into view..."
It was neither glyph nor symbol, but a scene of a lone woman chanting a curse, bathed in a pale fire. All around her were books, igniting and turning into ash.
"This... this is Wehmkin!"
Eleight's eyes flew open in shock. The sorcery involved was unclear, but it was beyond all doubt that both the black-paged book and the woman depicted within were the cause of the calamity.
"I must find her at all costs. Aithris will be invaluable as well, for I can have her explore that horrid book..."
She rose unsteadily to her feet. The never-ending loneliness vexed her, as was the extraordinary misfortune of being unable to request help from the empire...
"Hm? Who's there?"
Hearing soft footfalls, she turned to main doorway where she saw a figure step through.
"Wazui, it's you!"
Another sorcerer who frequently visited the Archive, the return of Wazui was fortuitous. Spurred by reassurance, Eleight dragged her weighty body towards him, her intuition drowned out by desperation. Even from a distance, it was clear that his eyes were hollow and his form trembled without cease. Placing a hand upon his scythe, he moaned...
"May the dark swallow the light..."
"...You're a Stigmal?"
He charged at her with his weapon raised.
"No..."
Under any other circumstance, she could have easily outmatched him, but she was now far too weak to defend herself. She attempted to gather up the last of her strength to retreat. However, before he could come within striking range, a flashing arc appeared behind him and tore through his back.
"Splendid attack, Hero!"
The high-pitched praise of a woman accompanied Wazui's prompt retreat.
"I hope you aren't hurt..."
She appeared to be an elf, and standing behind her were two warriors: one was a man with a bow strapped to his back, the other clad in dull, battle-worn garb. It was clear the latter had attacked Wazui, but the Stigma was clearly visible upon their chest, a hole in their tunic exposing the swollen, bruised skin.
"A-are you...?"
The slayer of the goddess of harmony, Belgantier, and the one who plunged the entire world into madness, known by a name that could only be called ironic: "The Hero."
"C'mon, didn't I tell you wait before pullin' any fancy tricks? If we can't get the goddess here on our side, there's no way we'll even be able to read the spines."
The archer spoke with affected exasperation to the other, but the elf argued in their favor.
"The Hero can't be stopped when there's someone who needs to be saved! There's no telling what could've happened if we had hesitated!"
"All right, I get it, now pipe down. Hey, Eleight, wasn't it? We're looking for info about this Stigma mess. Know of anythin' that could point us in the right direction? And what's with this smoke? You'd rather burn the place down before lettin' the Stigmals have it or somethin'?."
"That's not how you address a goddess, Salvador! Besides, I believe we need to help her before we ask for any favors!"
The mention of "help" jolted the dazed Eleight back to her senses.
"Did you mention wishing to help me? Why should a goddess consort with villains such as yourselves?"
She did not intend the accusatory tone of her words; she was merely overwhelmed by the sudden development. Regardless, upon hearing the utterance of "villains," the elf gasped as color drained from her face.
"See? A waste of time, just like I said."
Salvador swiftly pulled an arrow to the bowstring and aimed it directly at the goddess.
"No, Salvador! We can negotiate..."
"If we kill her, we won't have to bother with that. Fortunately, she doesn't seem like she can put up much of a fight. Hear that, Eleight? You're helpin' us one way or another. We need to know everythin' about the Stigmals so we can clear the Hero's name, and we ain't takin' 'no' for an answer."
As he held the tightened bowstring, the one with the Stigma scarred into their chest stepped in between his arrow and the weakened goddess. Salvador heaved a sigh.
"Cripes, not this stunt again."
"Please, Eleight, you must believe us! The Hero isn't a villain, no matter what that Stigma means! So I beg of you to allow us to look through your books..."
"In actuality, the empire asked me to conduct research regarding the Stigmals soon after their appearance. Unfortunately, there is nothing within these walls that contain the information you seek. However..."
She answered the elf's question while staring at the back of the Hero. Pausing for a moment to consider if they were worth trusting, she realized that she had nothing to lose by casting her lot with them.
"However, a second search may possibly prove fruitful. That is, if you are willing to accept my conditions."
Salvador furrowed his brow.
"Let me guess: you want us to invent a contraption that coats paper in a thin but resilient coating of clear resin."
"Be quiet, Salvador! Please tell us the conditions, Eleight! We'll try our best to meet them!"
"...Very well. As you can see, the Archive is currently facing grave danger. The key in resolving it lies in the retrieval of two books. Their titles are 'Mystic Sleuth Harriet' and 'The Tragedy of the Destitute'."
She turned to look at the Hero, her gaze beholding the clarity in their eyes.
"Can you do this for me?"
Even before she asked the question, she realized they were proper and just, and not the evil-doers they were rumored to be. As expected, the Hero gave a sharp nod.
"Then I shall accompany you. Be warned -- there are undoubtedly other Stigmals ahead, so we must advance with all caution."
The relieved Eleight guided them into the core of the Wehmkin Archive. The fate of millennia of knowledge hinged upon the retrieval of two books...
Epilogue[]
The disaster threatening the Wehmkin Archive was on a scale unseen by the manifestation of its knowledge, the goddess Eleight. A sinister smoke drifted about the books, slowly removing the script therein, letter by letter. As a result, her own academic proficiency also dwindled, rendering moot her usual method of researching a solution. She was further confounded by the disappearance of her clerks, but help arrived in an unexpected form -- three travelers wishing to learn about the Stigmal phenomenon. Ironically, one of them was a warrior accused of being its originator known as the "Hero," bearing a conspicuous Stigma upon their chest.
Agreeing to help each other, she led the party through the rows of shelves to find two books which she had deduced to be key in resolving the crisis. One was "Mystic Sleuth Harriet," a piece of fiction which one of Eleight's clerks had used her powers to enter, fortunately sparing her from the fate that befell the rest. The other was "The Tragedy of the Destitute," which was the source of the pernicious calamity.
......
"He was also a superb sorcerer..."
Eleight cast a morose gaze over the prone, motionless Rossingol, his Komora Stone removed. He was one of the many clerks of the Archive who had been mutated into Stigmals and impeded your progress.
"Eleight, I wasn't able to find either of those books around here. In fact, most of them were blank..."
Elimval flipped through the pages of a book, revealing the empty pages. She searched for the titles Eleight requested while you fought, but it seemed that every other one had been deprived of content. The goddess sighed with distress.
"...I expected as much, for my own knowledge is decreasing rapidly."
"Well, it sure seemed like every book that creep opened had something written in them."
The gist of Salvador's comment was that the smoke seemed to be aiding the Stigmals through selectively ignoring certain books, such as the ones Rossingol used in summoning. You examined the tomes scattered around his corpse again, and it was true that none of them were blank. There were only certain spots missing, likely the names of the demons he had called forth.
However, there was one with decidedly peculiar contents. In the midst of a library that prided itself on facts and concrete knowledge, in your hand was a book of fiction. Although his reason for holding it was incomprehensible, you passed your eyes over a page and came across a familiar name: "Harriet." Your heartbeat quickened as you continued scanning the passage, soon finding mention of an "inquisitive, raven-haired maiden who adored books." There was no doubt in your mind; it was one of the books Eleight requested. On instinct, you threw it into the air and struck it with your sword, scattering the pages every which way. The goddess was shocked.
"What was the meaning of that? ...Wait, was it...?"
In the flurry of pages, the figure of a young woman appeared, her hair as black as night: Aithris. When she realized where she was, guilt formed upon her face.
"Oh! Hello, Eleight! ...Caught me slacking off, huh...?"
......
Aithris mended old and damaged books in the Archive. With an innocent smile, she recanted her story at a brisk pace.
"You see, this traveling book peddler came by with a load of rare books, and you know me, I couldn't help but take a look so I picked up a couple that looked really good! I wasted no time before jumping into the one about Harriet. She was incredible, solving all these mysteries one right after the other! She was about to reveal the main culprit when you caught me. But I'll just finish it lat... Oh no, the pages are all over the place! Who did this?! Now I won't find out what happens until forever!"
"Forget the ending. We got a bigger prob..."
"Excuse me, pretty boy, but I'm not done yet. I'm going to use these detective skills Harriet taught me to figure out who did this. ...Aha! It was you with the sword, right? ...Whoa, you should get that gash on your chest looked at. ...Wait a minute, that's the Stigma, isn't it?! What are they doing here, Eleight?! But they don't seem all that crazy... Maybe we could get along! I know, Eleight, we should add this to our Stigmal observation log! ...Wait, why do you seem so weak? And where are Keoli and the others? Are they gone? It would explain why this place seems a bit more unorganized than usual. What happened after the book seller left? He seemed like a pretty ordinary guy, although his books were anything but. He even had this weird one that was like all black pages or something, and he was nice enough to give it to me for free! It should be in that room over there."
......
Aithris' power to bring others into a book's world was limited to herself and two others, and so she brought you and Eleight along while Elimval and Salvador remained behind.
If "Mystic Sleuth Harriet" was frivolous but harmless, the other consisting of pages entirely in black was ominous. In Eleight's eyes, it was the most likely culprit in the Archive's shedding of knowledge, and it was all that she could focus upon in her current condition.
"The Wehmkin Archive held a wealth of information, but now..."
The weakened Eleight was only supported by that former glory, unaware of how much it resembled empty pride.
"Wow, it's so creepy here..."
Possibly realizing her beloved library was on the brink of collapse as consequence of her actions, Aithris' easygoing demeanor had been replaced with trepidation and guilt. Even though you led the two of them through the black book, she seemed restless. It was apparently was not the first occurrence of Aithris bringing in books from outside. She was wont to read fictional stories to while away the hours, tales that were hardly worth the paper that held them. And the fact there was nothing else in the massive stores to hold her attention highlighted her unusual preferences. There were accounts of all kinds and from all ages within the Archive, a natural result of its requirement that any who used it contribute their own wisdom beforehand. She seemed to be regretting her habits as you lead the two of them through the sprawling darkness of the book.
The "story" was undeniably abnormal. Even in a form as unrestrained as fiction, there were certain rules of composition that were rarely broken. One could expect the plot to thicken after the outset, yet no matter how far you progressed through the book, there was nothing but the pall of darkness. The faint outline of buildings appeared only to vanish like mirages as you approached. There was nothing to establish the groundwork of a narrative within the ever-shifting gloom. One step would land in a tepid bog and the next would fall upon solid ice. The aroma of grass changed to that of rotten meat without warning.
"What's that?"
Aithris spoke at the same moment you noticed it: a faint speck of light in the distance. Drawing closer, you could tell it was a semicircular stage made of stone. The source of the light was unknown, but it shone from high above directly over the center of the platform.
"Someone is there."
Eleight motioned to the lone figure seated facing away from you upon the stage. It was a young red-haired girl in tattered clothes, clutching her knees to her body. Presently, an aged man with the appearance of a wizard stepped into the light and stood beside her.
"You're still here even after I asked you to leave? If you desire my tutelage, come back with the gold I requested. And don't think you'll find anyone else who will agree to a lower amount."
The downcast girl remained silent, and so the man continued.
"You believe learning magic will be the easiest way to provide for your family, and while I do not disagree, I am not so naive as to accept a talentless waif as a pupil pro bono. Perhaps I would consider if you were of high standing, but it is obvious that is not the case. If you are that desperate, I advise you visit the Wehmkin Archive. It is rather far from here, but they have the resources which will allow you to educate yourself."
Suddenly, the light vanished, casting the stage in darkness.
"Aithris, what was that?"
Eleight asked a question under her breath, yet before she could receive an answer, the light returned once more to reveal the girl. Her clothes were now in a worse condition, her hair showing through her hood. Beside her was a massive, familiar door -- that of the Wehmkin Archive. The girl knocked upon it and a stern voice boomed from the other side.
"Who goes there?"
"I am but a poor girl called Zodinhel. I have come to learn..."
"Have you prepared your offering of wisdom?"
"...What do you mean?"
"You are to record the current extent of your knowledge and submit it to the Archive. Only then will we allow you entry."
"I beg your pardon, but I am unable to write. That is why I have come to learn..."
"Begone. Find a scholar in town to educate you, and then return once you have attained some amount of scholarship."
The girl knocked on the door again and again, but the voice did not return. At last, the girl slumped to her knees in resignation, and the stage once more turned dark.
"Aithris, that was my voice..."
"Yes. I remember when you asked the same of me when I first arrived at the Archive, and even now I will hear you asking new visitors from the center atrium, no matter where I am."
When the light returned, Eleight gasped. Instead of the girl, there was a boy lying on the stage, motionless. His stomach had been torn open and entrails seeped from the cavity. Although his eyes were open slightly, he was clearly dead. Then, a crowd of people emerged from the ether and surrounded the boy. One brought a torch to the corpse, but the crowd parted and the girl appeared. She ran towards the dead boy and clung to the body.
"Get away from him, Zodinhel. Your brother was turned into a Stigmal. There must have been Creepmud in the puddle he drank from after you left. We've already taken out his Komora Stone, so if any Creepmud from his corpse spills onto you... Anyway, step back so we can safely dispose of him."
The girl wailed and shook her head fiercely. Even as the people tried to pull her away, she frantically grasped to her brother's body. In the struggle, her shawl and hair fell away and revealed her face.
Eleight was shocked; it was the very same one she had seen earlier, sitting in the midst of the scene where the Archive burned.
"How horrible... What have I done...?"
Very little knowledge remained in her head at that moment, so she was unsure of how to process that new revelation. Her feet began to move on their own, and had Aithris not restrained her, she would likely have climbed onto the stage.
"Please maintain your composure, Eleight. This is her story. I understand it may be difficult for you to bear, but isn't this how she is fulfilling your requirement despite her illiteracy? Let's watch until the end."
"What am I to do, Aithris? What am I...?"
"I just said to watch until the end."
Aithris' voice suddenly assumed a weak rasp, such as the wind that whistled through the knothole of a withered tree. Then, her black hair turned to scarlet, the color drained from her skin, and her entire body glowed with a pale red.
"Watch until the end, Eleight. Know the consequences of your actions. If I had become a sorceress, I could have relieved my family's struggle in some small way. My parents died of sickness, and there was no one else to watch my brother when he slurped that Creepmud! I hate that old wizard, and that he ever told me of your accursed library..."
Although the flames that engulfed Zodinhel did not spread to Eleight, possibly due to the nature of the world within the book, they released a thick smoke, the same one that erased the text from the books. As it built up, they soon became separated from you and Aithris.
"Eleight, do you now know how it feels to be without knowledge? To not know your place in the world? To be ignorant of your ignorance? Well, maybe you weren't unfamiliar with that last one..."
Zodinhel's smoldering hands seized Eleight's arms tightly. The weakened goddess could not summon the strength to wrench herself away.
"I am offering a book I have composed, just as you asked. It is all that I have -- my plight as a destitute beggar. Of course, I could not have written it on my own. Do you know who helped me? It was a kind man, dressed in all white clothes. Through some mysterious magic, he gave form to my thoughts and brought it to Wehmkin."
Her grip tightened, now around the goddess' neck.
"If you use knowledge as an excuse to lift yourself over the peons, then it is worthless. This hatred filling every part of me will reduce you and your precious Archive to a pile of ashes!"
Eleight gazed upon Zodinhel's face contorted by spite. Unable to breathe and her mind blank, she could only behold her own pitiful form reflected in her burning eyes.
"It is true... I alone am responsible for Wehmkin's downfall..."
Her consciousness faded. She could hear the frantic voice of Aithris, but as their voices were distant and the smoke was yet thick, her end appeared to be inevitable. Slowly closing her eyes, the massive arrow that soon fell from the inky sky and shattered the stage into rubble escaped her notice.
......
"What in dragonblazes happened to you all?"
Salvador stared in amazement at the soot-covered figures of you, Aithris, and the prone Eleight. He had clearly not expected your return as a result of attacking his target, a woman clutching the black book. It was Zodinhel, pierced in the heart with an arrow that also penetrated the thick tome. With a trembling hand, she removed the arrow, her deathly pale face yet holding brightly burning eyes.
"May the dark... swallow... the light!"
If there was any doubt that she was a Stigmal, her groaning of their familiar phrase would have dispelled it. You returned Salvador's gaze, confusion evident in your expression.
"While you were gone, this firebrand showed up out of nowhere with a bottle of Creepmud and a gaggle of Stigmals, tryin' to make off with the black book. Couldn't have made it any more obvious she was the mastermind if the word was tattooed on her forehead. Her friends gave me some trouble, but I managed to plug her before she could get away. So, how about on your end?"
"Well, we..."
But before Aithris could begin, Eleight suddenly stirred, dragged her body over to Zodinhel and reached up to her.
"Poor one, I beg your forgiveness. I had millions upon millions of records stored here, but I knew nothing of your grief and oppression..."
Zodinhel's eyes were unresponsive, blinded by rage, but Eleight gazed upon her with newfound wisdom as tears streamed down her face.
"You were correct... I was indeed the ignorant one."
......
"Right, guess we'll be headin' off now."
"Do take care. I apologize I could not be of more aid."
After Eleight bid them farewell, the dragon roared, likely anticipating Salvador's gentle touch again.
"Don't worry about it. At least we know who we need to be huntin' after. I'd say that qualifies as 'aid'."
You nodded as Elimval frowned in thought.
"So there was the traveling peddler and the man who made Zodinhel's book... It certainly seems like they were the same person, but the other matter is what would motivate him to do such a thing."
The most apparent reason was that the Archive contained information he wanted eliminated. Whether or not it was related to the Stigma was unknown, but in light of Zodinhel's history, it seemed highly plausible.
"It seemed he wielded her grudge against me to his advantage..."
But Aithris interrupted her master's self-flagellation.
"Don't say things like that, Eleight. Besides, aren't you always telling me not to jump to conclusions?"
Possibly out of contrition, the goddess attempted to protect Zodinhel as she once did with her brother's corpse. It required both Aithris and Salvador to separate them, for it was imperative that Zodinhel's Komora Stone be removed before further damage was caused. Before Zodinhel could recover from the arrow wound, you took her outside to pluck her even as your own Stigma throbbed with pain. Then, the smoke within the Archive vanished and the books were restored to their original state, meaning Eleight was as well. It seemed that both Zodinhel's body and the black book had been enchanted to spread the text-eating smoke. With her knowledge reclaimed, Eleight searched the books for anything regarding the Stigmals, but nothing new was found since her investigation at the behest of the empire.
"However, if that man intended to erase a book from the Archive, it should still be here, untouched. Should I determine what it is, I will notify you with all haste."
You and Elimval waved farewell as the dragon flapped its great wings, carrying the three of you into the endless blue above. Shielding her eyes from the sun while she watched it climb higher, the goddess of the Wehmkin Archive said:
"I will certainly find what you seek, Hero. Until then, believe in your innocence and adhere to justice."
Chapters/Quests[]
*Energy
| Chapter | Quest | Ene* | EXP | Coin | Boss |
| 1: Threatened Knowledge | 1-5 | -1 | +2 | +20~24 | Deluded Hermit Wazui |
| 2: Threatened Knowledge | 6-10 | -1 | +2 | +20~24 | Deluded Hermit Wazui |
| 3: Threatened Knowledge | 11-15 | -1 | +2 | +20~24 | Deluded Hermit Wazui |
| 4: Threatened Knowledge | 16-20 | -1 | +2 | +20~24 | (Vacant) Deluded Hermit Wazui |
| 5: Threatened Knowledge | 21-25 | -1 | +2 | +20~24 | (Vacant) Deluded Hermit Wazui |
| 6: Fallen Wisdom | 26-30 | -2 | +3 | +40~48 | Doggzent the Sophist |
| 7: Fallen Wisdom | 31-35 | -2 | +3 | +40~48 | Doggzent the Sophist |
| 8: Fallen Wisdom | 36-40 | -3 | +4 | +60~72 | Doggzent the Sophist |
| 9: Fallen Wisdom | 41-45 | -3 | +4 | +60~72 | (Fraudulent) Doggzent the Sophist |
| 10: Fallen Wisdom | 46-50 | -3 | +4 | +60~72 | (Fraudulent) Doggzent the Sophist |
| 11: Stolen Future | 51-55 | -3 | +3 | +60~72 | Page-Consuming Keoli |
| 12: Stolen Future | 56-60 | -4 | +4 | +80~96 | Page-Consuming Keoli |
| 13: Stolen Future | 61-65 | -4 | +4 | +80~96 | Page-Consuming Keoli |
| 14: Stolen Future | 66-70 | -5 | +5 | +100~120 | (Bookworm) Page-Consuming Keoli |
| 15: Stolen Future | 71-75 | -5 | +5 | +100~120 | (Bookworm) Page-Consuming Keoli |
| 16: Demonic Texts | 76-80 | -5 | +5 | +100~120 | Rossignol, Coveting Wisdom |
| 17: Demonic Texts | 81-85 | -6 | +6 | +120~144 | Rossignol, Coveting Wisdom |
| 18: Demonic Texts | 86-90 | -7 | +7 | +140~168 | Rossignol, Coveting Wisdom |
| 19: Demonic Texts | 91-95 | -8 | +8 | +160~192 | (Folly) Rossignol, Coveting Wisdom |
| 20: Demonic Texts | 96-100 | -9 | +9 | +180~216 | (Folly) Rossignol, Coveting Wisdom |
| Bibliophobia | 100+ | -10 | +10 | +180~360 | (Folly) Rossignol, Coveting Wisdom* |
*Encountered every 25th Area after reaching Area 100.
Rewards[]
| Rank | Reward |
| 77, 555, 777 | Salvador, Wandering Bowman (UR) x 1 |
| 1,000, 2,000, 3,000, 4,000, 5,000 | Zodinhel the Begrudged (UR) x 1 |
| Requirement | Reward |
|---|---|
| Randomly drops | Eleight's Diary Page |
| Area 50 | 10% UR Ticket x 1 |
| Area 100 | 20% UR Ticket x 1 |