On the day of the Dome of Knowledge’s opening ceremony, Jiang Ming woke up early and followed the memories of the body’s original owner to the school.
Guided by the blurred impressions of the game map, he traversed the academy district shrouded in morning mist and found the domed building used for large assemblies.
The morning light cast a pale gold hue over the grayish-white stone walls, where climbing vines swayed gently in the breeze.
A massive celestial map was painted across the high, wide dome. Sunlight streamed through the high side windows, forming pillars of light in the air.
Rows of dark benches fanned out toward the podium. A few early-arriving students were already scattered about, their whispers creating a faint echo in the cavernous space.
Jiang Ming found an inconspicuous seat toward the back and slowly scanned his surroundings.
The general layout remained the same, but the details were all wrong. Several busts of scholars he didn’t recognize had been added near the podium. The portraits of past deans hanging on the walls featured faces so unfamiliar he had no impression of them at all. Even the patterns on the stained-glass windows seemed to differ from the color scheme in his memory.
“So much has changed…”
He leaned back against the bench and sighed silently.
Why does everyone else get a max-level character when they transmigrate, while I have to start from zero?
Last night, after confirming Elvira had left, an exhausted Jiang Ming fell into a deep sleep. His consciousness soon sank into that infinite wilderness, where the six floating fragments of the colored Tablet still waited quietly.
During the previous life-and-death crisis, he had hastily touched only the red fragment, awakening the wooden mask representing Heavenly Wind. Last night, he finally had the time to carefully examine the other five.
With a mix of hesitation and anticipation, he reached out toward the remaining fragments one by one. The blue and purple fragments erupted with light in succession.
What emerged from the blue fragment was an exquisite eye-patch style mask inlaid with ice-blue crystals—the Spirit Eye of Garan, from the School of Illusionary Heart.
He had abandoned this ability in the past because its early-game playstyle was too tedious, only capable of applying minor debuffs to opponents.
Immediately after, the response from the purple fragment was entirely unexpected. It was a mask so magnificent it bordered on the hyperbolic, decorated with purple feathers and tiny starlight—the Miracle of Violet, from the School of Miracles.
He remembered this save file. It was a limited-time Easter egg ability released for a specific forum event. However, he had only created the save and never actually played it.
Furthermore, both of these save files were ones he had stopped playing while still in the Glimmer stage.
“I should have opened more save files if I’d known.”
It seemed the abilities provided by the Tablet were linked to his own save files.
Jiang Ming thought to himself.
The start wasn’t too bad, but the road ahead clearly wouldn’t be easy.
But no matter. With these abilities, as long as he didn’t go looking for death, surviving in this world shouldn’t be a problem.
He pulled his thoughts back and focused on the opening ceremony before him.
On the podium, an old man had already taken his place and cleared his throat. His deep voice carried clearly throughout the hall via some sort of amplification device:
“Silence, fellow seekers of knowledge.”
“I am today’s chief examiner, Edwin Soren.”
The entire hall fell silent at those words.
“Welcome to the Dome of Knowledge.”
“The great Lord Protector Jiang Ming once said: Power is not something to be feared; what truly determines its color is always the hand that wields it.”
The old man stood on the podium, his voice not loud but clearly reaching every corner of the hall. He wore deep purple academic robes with silver thread tracing star tracks on the cuffs. His gray-white hair was combed meticulously. This was the Vice Dean of the Dome of Knowledge, Edwin Hawthorne.
“A sword can be used to defend a home, or to slaughter the innocent. A flame can illuminate the darkness and warm a cold winter, or it can burn down forests and consume civilizations. Magic, knowledge, and even the source of the soul you are about to touch… these things possess no inherent good or evil.”
“Therefore, before you officially step into the halls of knowledge, we must first conduct a… small test.”
Edwin raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.
In the next second, a grand bell toll crashed into everyone’s eardrums, as heavy as a choir of saints chanting in unison. Accompanying it was a deep, irresistible drowsiness that flooded every inch of consciousness like a rising tide.
Before Jiang Ming could even think, the edges of his vision began to blur and darken.
The purple-robed figure of Edwin Soren on the podium bled outward like ink dropped into water, and his consciousness felt like a kite with a severed string.
Then, Jiang Ming leaned forward, his forehead hitting the cold back of the bench as he fell into a dreamless slumber.
The same scene was playing out simultaneously across every freshman in the hall. One, two, three… like dominoes pushed over by an invisible hand, the sound of light breathing quickly replaced all rustling whispers.
In the span of just a few breaths, every young figure sitting on the benches had lowered their head, falling into a uniform, bottomless sleep.
Edwin Soren lowered his hand and tucked it behind his back. He scanned the forest of students who had suddenly fallen into silence, his expression unreadable, the cuffs of his purple robes perfectly still.
***
He opened his eyes again.
Jiang Ming found himself standing in a narrow alleyway.
Heavy snow was falling from the sky.
The air was thick with the scent of rotting trash, low-grade coal smoke, and a heavy, stagnant odor. On either side were leaning, cramped shacks with peeling walls.
Beneath his feet was a stone path, uneven and covered in slushy snow.
Jiang Ming looked down and saw himself wearing a somewhat old but still crisp set of dark robes. A bronze scale badge, symbolizing judicial authority, was pinned to his chest. In his hands, he held a thick stack of documents.
“Please review your appointment brief.”
The clear prompt sounded directly in his mind again, completely out of place with his surroundings.
Jiang Ming composed himself and pulled out the top sheet from the file folder.
[Kindness must be practiced within one’s means; mercy is not a shield for the reckless.]
[Star Calendar 1982. You are currently a rookie judge heading to Rusty Bolt Lane in the Lower City to investigate a report of a domestic dispute at residence No. 47. The case description is vague; your superiors have categorized it as a trivial matter, intended as a preliminary assessment of your abilities.]
[A Rectifying Judge will accompany you. He has the authority to observe and record all guilt encountered during this trip according to the Code of Virtue and Punishment, and may carry out judgment on the spot.]
Turning around, he indeed saw a guard holding a longsword standing silently nearby.
“Let’s head there first and see what clues we can find,” Jiang Ming murmured, stepping toward No. 47.
Premium Chapter
Login to buy access to this Chapter.