109. Second Floor

Linnea clapped sarcastically. “Congrats on reaching the second floor! And it only took three hours.”

“Oh, shut it, you,” Oz murmured, too pleased to be bothered by it. He turned his hand around, admiring the gold ring around his wrist. The gold light quickly faded to black, becoming just another mark on the control tattoo. He lowered his arm and walked up to the bannister, lounging against it to look down at Linnea.

She raised her brows at him. “What?”

“Just admiring the view from aaaall the way up here.”

Linnea shook her head. “Whatever.”

Oz nodded at her. “What stage are you, anyways, Linnea? Can you come up here?”

“Can you feel my strength?” Linnea asked.

Oz squinted. He extended his senses toward her, scanning her body. A fuzzy image appeared before him, her qi not fully clear. He shook his head. “No.”

“Then I’m still stronger than you,” she said with a laugh.

Oz shook his head. He put his hand on his chin and nodded at Linnea. “Where’s Fflyn?”

“Training in the World Door. I’ve had him spar with Loup. They’re about the same level; it’s good for both of them.”

A knock from the door again. Oz glanced at it. “You think I should check the door?”

Linnea shrugged. “Whoever it is, they’ve been knocking every four or so hours for the last week. They’ve clearly got the patience and persistence to see it to the end. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Oz nodded. “Fair enough. Then, I guess I’ll get started on the second floor.”

“Already?” Linnea asked.

“No time like the present,” Oz said. He glanced at his wrist, turning it subtly away so Linnea couldn’t see the dark marks crawling up his arm. It remained the same as ever, suppressed by the antidote he’d brewed some time ago. High time I erased that mark.

He looked at his books, at the sprawling shelves laid out around him, the titles jumbled at random without rhyme nor reason, then nodded. “Right to the pill section, right? The pill section! Easy! Because there totally is a pill section!”

“Are you okay? Did that stair trial put too much pressure on your brain?” Linnea called from the first floor.

Oz sighed, shaking his head. “I forgot how little effort Madame Saoirse put into organization system.”

“She was more a collector than an archivist,” Linnea agreed.

“Forget archiving, she barely bothered to put the books on a shelf,” Oz muttered under his breath, eyeing a pile of books stacked at the end of the aisle. He walked over, bending to pick up the first volumes, and flicked through their titles. A history book, a book on enchanting, the second level of a basic cultivation technique, and a book on cooking with magical ingredients all sat in the same pile. Already exhausted, Oz put his hand on the history book’s cover, casually scanning it.

The second the words appeared in his head, a stab of pain cut through his mind. He stumbled back, pressing a hand to his forehead. His brows furrowed. Ow! What was that?

The pain faded. Oz shook his head, recovering, then called up the words in his mind. Before he finished the first sentence, sharp pain stabbed into his mind again. He winced, frustrated. Is my mind not strong enough to read second-tier books yet? But I climbed to the second floor! I…

I just leveled up. I’ve barely consolidated my realm. I probably need to take a few minutes, maybe hours, and just focus on fixing up my cultivation.

Oz sighed. He looked at the books in his hand, then took a deep breath and scanned them, one after another. A jab of pain stuck into his brain one after another, but the pain faded quickly. At last, when he’d finished scanning all four books, the pain simmered down to a mild headache. He set the pile of books down to the side of the stairs and headed back downstairs.

“Done already?” Linnea asked, surprised.

Oz waved his hand as he climbed down the stairs. “Done enough for now. I need to take a break. I’ll go see who’s at the door.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I could use some more money. Need to buy more herbs.”

Linnea shook her head at him, lounging back against the desk. She shrugged at him, a gesture that emphasized the softness of her chest and the looseness of her gown. “There’s more to life than herbs, you know.”

“Not right now, there isn’t,” Oz quipped back.

She glanced at his arm. He twisted it away from her sight, slightly self-conscious. Linnea sighed. “Right.”

At that, Oz laughed. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he waved flippantly as he set off for the door. “I’m being dramatic. It’s not like the poison is going to kill me right now.”

“True, but it is troubling you, isn’t it?”

“It’s a mindworm, mostly,” Oz confessed.

Linnea stared at his back. She crossed her arms. “So it isn’t bothering you at all, you just want to get rid of it because it’s a mental block?”

“That’s valid! All the books talked about avoiding mental blocks!” Oz called over his shoulder.

Linnea rolled her eyes. To herself, she muttered, “He doesn’t even know what a mental block is.”

The knock sounded out again. Oz grabbed the door handle and swung it open, giving the person on the other side his customer service smile. “Oz’s door opening services, couldn’t stop it if I tried. Can I help you?”