The announcement came the next morning.
The younger members of House Valerian gathered once again at the training courtyard. The early air was cool, and faint mist still clung to the stone ground.
Alex stood quietly among them.
The dull ache at the back of his head had mostly faded overnight, though the strange hidden node still felt sensitive.
Across the courtyard, Cedric and several cousins talked quietly. A few of them glanced toward Alex from time to time.
The whispers hadn't stopped since yesterday's spar.
Alex ignored them.
Elder Rowan soon stepped onto the raised platform near the center of the training grounds.
The courtyard fell silent.
His calm gaze swept across the gathered students before he spoke.
"The Imperial Academy entrance examinations will begin in three months."
A ripple of excitement spread through the group.
For many of them, the academy represented their future. Noble families often sent their heirs there to refine their cultivation and build alliances.
Rowan continued.
"During this time, your training will intensify. Those who intend to attend the academy will prepare seriously."
His voice remained steady.
"Beginning today, the martial technique archives & cultivation theory halls of the Valerian library will be opened for study."
Several students exchanged surprised looks.
The family library was enormous, but many areas were normally closed to younger members.
"Use the opportunity well," Rowan said.
"Strength is not built by brute effort alone. Understanding matters."
His eyes moved briefly across the crowd.
For a moment, Alex felt the man's gaze pause on him.
Then Rowan finished calmly.
"Training will proceed as usual."
The courtyard slowly returned to activity.
But Alex's thoughts had already shifted elsewhere.
The library.
For someone like him, knowledge was far more useful than another beating on the sparring platform.
The Valerian library stood near the inner section of the estate.
It was older than most of the surrounding buildings, its stone walls darkened by age. Tall windows allowed narrow shafts of sunlight to fall across rows of towering shelves.
The moment Alex stepped inside, the scent of old parchment and dust filled the air.
It was quiet.
Almost reverent.
A few scribes worked silently at distant tables while several younger family members browsed the more accessible sections.
Alex walked slowly through the shelves.
Titles filled the rows.
Cultivation manuals.
Martial theory.
Historical records.
Political treaties.
The Valerian family had accumulated knowledge for generations.
Alex eventually selected a basic cultivation text and sat at a nearby table.
The book explained the foundations he already suspected.
Qi circulation.
Energy channels.
Nodes.
Every cultivator built their strength through these systems.
But the more Alex read, the clearer something became.
His body's condition was far worse than he had originally thought.
Several passages described what happened when a cultivator attempted to force open higher nodes prematurely.
Severe channel damage.
Permanent instability.
Sometimes even death.
Alex's fingers paused on the page.
The description felt disturbingly familiar.
He leaned back slightly in his chair.
The broken node behind his mind.
The warped energy channels.
The original Alex had clearly attempted something reckless.
And whatever he had tried… had nearly destroyed his body.
Alex closed the book slowly.
At that moment, a strange sensation brushed against his thoughts.
A faint tug.
Not a clear memory.
More like an emotional echo left behind by the original Alex.
Curiosity.
Familiarity.
Almost like a quiet suggestion.
Alex blinked.
The sensation wasn't his.
It felt like a direction.
Something the previous owner of this body had cared about deeply.
Alex slowly stood.
Without fully understanding why, he followed the faint pull deeper into the library.
The main cultivation sections gradually gave way to older, less organized shelves.
Dust gathered thickly here.
Few people seemed to visit this area.
The titles changed as well.
Ancient dynasties.
Pre-Imperial wars.
Forgotten kingdoms.
And records most cultivators considered useless—historical archives.
Most cultivators ignored history.
Power came from Qi, not dusty records.
At least, that was the common belief.
Alex stopped in front of one particular shelf.
The strange feeling grew stronger.
He reached out and pulled one of the books free.
The cover was worn with age.
Alex started reading.
The historical records described strange events from centuries ago.
Cultivators who possessed abilities that didn't follow normal Qi principles.
Symbols that appeared across multiple forgotten civilizations.
a small slip of parchment fell onto the table from between the pages.
Alex picked it up.
Handwritten notes covered the slip..
And then—
Alex froze.
A drawing appeared in the margin of the page.
Crude.
But unmistakable.
A broken crown.
Surrounded by flowing lines.
The exact same symbol that had appeared inside his mind.
A chill ran down his spine.
Beneath the drawing, the original Alex had written several words.
The ink had faded slightly with time.
But they were still readable.
Alex stared at them in silence.
Then he slowly whispered the words aloud.
"The crown is not just power…but something else entirely."
His voice trailed off as his eyes moved to the final line written beneath it.
"I am Fated to die"
For a long moment, he stared at the words.
Because the symbol drawn beside them matched the one inside his mind perfectly.