This writing seemed to cover the entire surface of this bone. The closer Red got, the more details he was able to see, and what he saw left his head spinning.

What he thought were large sigils before were actually composed of dozens of smaller symbols, drawn with such detail and precision that it left the youth aghast. Every step Red took, another detail he missed would be revealed, and the sheer complexity of this drawing would just increase.

Red didn’t know what these symbols meant. Anyone else in his place might have thought these were just natural patterns, but with the experience in Arcane Scripture the youth had, he could see some familiar patterns in how this drawing was organized. There was an order to this chaos, even if Red himself couldn’t tell what it was for.

‘Did someone really draw this?’

He found this hard to believe. Did demons know arcane scripture in the first place? Not to mention, why carve it on the surface of a bone?

‘I need to see it closer.’

Red didn’t know if this was wise, but what else was he supposed to do in this forsaken place?

He continued to approach until he was finally face to face with this colossal rib bone. In width alone it was kilometers long, completely covering his vision, not to mention in length, stretching far above what Red could see, and that was only the part that stood above the dark sand.

Red saw nothing else of interest at the foot of this bone mountain, so he directed his attention to the symbols on its surface. Only now, from a dozen meters away, could he spot the smallest details of this inscription.

It was a continuous spiral pattern, twisting and turning every which way, with no order that Red could discern. At the tip of each spiral stood circles filled with symbols the youth had never seen inside of them. Every single one of these spirals and small symbols were organized in such a way that they connected and formed an even bigger array, and these bigger arrays, in turn, would combine and form an even bigger array.

While Red didn’t know the symbols, he was familiar with this method of inscribing. When one wanted to create a large or complex formation , this was the preferred method for most practitioners, where you etched smaller symbols and connected them to form a larger complex layer.

This was called Layered Inscribing. Depending on how big or complex the formation you wanted to make was, you might need to repeat this method several times, adding a layer for each level of complexity. Suffice it to say, every new layer was increasingly hard to draw, as one needed to consider dozens of smaller runes and symbols and how they would connect, but it was a necessary skill for a formation master, or any scripture practitioner for that matter.

Yet, the sheer scale of this inscription baffled Red. How many layers were there? Ten? Twelve? He couldn’t even count it properly.

It might not sound like much, but each new layer presented an exponential increase in complexity. Three layers were dozens of times harder to make than just two layers, for instance, and the difficulty couldn’t even be regarded in the same realm. Red had never heard of anything higher than eight layers in history, so this formation was several steps above that.

The youth couldn’t help but wander about its use.

‘I don’t see any symbol I recognize.’

Red frowned. If it was just a handful of unfamiliar symbols, the youth wouldn’t be bothered, but there were dozens of distinct and foreign sigils he had never seen, and not a single one he could recognize from the manual he received from the trial. How was it possible that there was another entirely different set of arcane sigils he knew nothing about?

‘Maybe it’s because I am in another world.’

He recalled from the manual that arcane scripture was supposed to be the language of the world, a way to give form to nature and its laws. It was possible that a different world had a completely different language, and as such, a different set of fundamental symbols.

‘If that’s the case, though… Isn’t this useless to me?’

If this world and his world had a different language, would the symbols he learned in one of them work in the other? Red wasn’t sure, and he couldn’t help but curse at not having any inscribing material to test his theory.

All he could do right now was memorize what he could and then test it once he woke up. When Red looked over the wall again, though, he frowned.

‘Can I even memorize this without practice?’

The smallest sigils were just as complex as the ones he had already learned, and those took him a year to memorize with enough practice. Now, though, he didn’t have the paper or the ink to practice them.

‘I wonder…”

Red looked down at the sharp bone in his hand. He got an idea.

He looked down at the dark sand floor. Red had tried in the past to move this sand, but he found that even one grain of this dark sand was impossibly heavy, so using it to draw was impossible. However, the youth didn’t need to part the sand, he just needed to draw over it.

Red used the bone in his hand and carefully scratched the dark sand. The soil didn’t even shift, but over it, a slight white line of bone dust could be seen.

‘I guess this can work.’

It obviously wasn’t the best option. The sand, while mostly even, was grainy and not good for drawing, and it wasn’t like the line of bone dust made for a clear depiction. However, Red wasn’t hoping to replicate the symbol perfectly.

He just wanted to memorize how it was drawn, and practice was the best way to do it.

The youth then picked a few symbols that stood out to him as being easier to draw and set about his work.

…

Red didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually he felt his concentration wane. He was already exhausted by the time he reached the bone, and inscribing was a difficult practice in the first place.

By the time Red felt he couldn’t keep himself awake any longer, he memorized three symbols in total, and the bone in his hand was all but spent. Now, all that he could hope for was that these sigils would be of any use in his world.

‘I should try asking the mist if there’s a way I can bring ink and paper here the next time.’

This was Red’s last thought as he fell unconscious.

…

His eyes opened and were greeted by the ceiling of the underground compartment. Red sat up on his bed and sighed.

‘I didn’t think I would find anything of interest in that place.’

He spent so long in that hellish nightmare with nothing to show for it that Red thought he would be forever sentenced to wander those planes. Yet, he finally reached the bone mountain.

‘What prompted this change?’

Red felt compelled to ask the mist, but it had never been forthcoming with sharing information. Not to mention, the youth shouldn’t dally around. It was probably already morning, and Domeron would be waiting for him back at the sect.

He used his crimson sense to scout above him, and after confirming there was no one waiting for him, he got out of his hiding place. Red then walked out into the alley and joined the morning crowd in one of the main streets without any hiccup.

Already, he heard the murmurs of conversation.

“Did you hear? Someone was killed last night in their office!”

“Really? Who?”

“Do you remember that merchant who sells herbs…”

It seemed like this was still too small of a town for murder to be commonplace, and as Red expected, the matter from yesterday was being talked about at length in the streets. At the very least, the youth took solace in the fact that the merchant had truly died.

Red made his way back to his sect without issue. No guards stopped him, and he wasn’t suddenly attacked by any imperial spies.

When he arrived back at the gate, he found Domeron waiting for him in his reclining chair.

The swordsman nodded in satisfaction. “You’re back.”

“Did you wait here all night?” Red asked.

“What?” Domeron frowned. “Do you think I don’t sleep?”

“… Now that you mention it, I have never seen you in your room.”

“Anyway…” The swordsman coughed into his own hand and tried to change subjects. “I trust everything went well?”

Red nodded. “It did. I wasn’t spotted by anyone and I also got this.”

He handed the letter to Domeron.

The man grabbed it with his one hand and eyed through it.

He hummed with interest. “Pretty thorough surveillance, it seems. Not surprising, but it does seem like the Empire might have quite a few people working for them in town.”

“It could just be hired hands.” Red said.

“Maybe, but there are not many hired hands in this town who would dare spy on us.” Domeron shook his head. “In any case, this tells nothing we didn’t suspect already. Did you find anything else?”

The youth shook his head. “I didn’t look. I just grabbed the first thing in front of me and got out as quickly as I could.”

The swordsman sighed. “Really? That’s disappointing.”

Red frowned. “You told me to kill him, not to acquire intelligence.”

“I suppose.” Domeron shrugged. “Either way, you’ve done well. I’m sure Hector will want to talk to you later about it, too.”

“Is he still being watched?” Red asked.

The swordsman nodded. “Seems to be the case.”

“Does he plan to do anything about it?”

“If he does, he hasn’t told me anything about it yet.” Domeron said. “Just don’t worry about it, kid. Hector is resourceful, and if he needs your help, you can be sure he will ask for it.”

Red nodded and decided to let the matter go.

He parted ways with Domeron and went straight towards Goulth’s house. He could already hear the sound of clanging hammer coming from inside, as well as the whistling of the large man as he sang a tune.

Red entered the workshop and closed the door behind him.

“Huh? Kid, is that you?!” Goulth turned around and looked at him with a smile.

“It is.” Red nodded.

“Great, great! Come here! I need your help with something!”

It seemed like the man was in a good mood.

Over the years, Red expected his relationship with his master to change after their conversation, but to his surprise, no such thing happened. Instead, Goulth seemed to accept his disciple as he was and stopped trying to push his philosophy onto him.

He still taught Red blacksmithing, but he also started urging the youth to study Arcane Scripture more, something that he did seem to have a greater talent in. Their relationship became even more harmonious than before, and Red entrusted even more of his secrets to this man who seemed to have nothing but his best interest in mind.

“There’s something I want to speak to you about.” Red said.

“Hm?” Goulth raised an eyebrow in suspicion. “Is it important?”

“Yes.” Red nodded. “I discovered a new system of Arcane Sigils.”

The blacksmith stared at the youth agape.