Chapter 151: The Vault

What is the biggest strength of being a transmigrator who has read the novel in which they are transmigrated?

There may be several answers to that question, and everyone might give a different one. Some would say it's knowing the plot, having foresight into the big events, or being able to predict major twists. But for me, the answer is clear.

It's knowing the characters.

The real advantage is understanding who they are, how they think, what drives them, and most importantly, whatbreaksthem. I know their backstories, the hidden trauma that shapes their every decision, the subtle motivations they won't share with anyone else. Knowing what pushes them forward, what keeps them awake at night, is more valuable than any plot twist.

It's like holding the strings to their minds.

What makes them stronger? I know it. What makes them falter? I know those.

After all, we're all reading these books to see someone different, yet someone familiar. That's the heart of it. Readers are drawn to characters they can relate to—people who might have different circumstances or powers but who reflect something familiar back at them. It's that connection, that sense of recognizing a part of themselves, that keeps them turning the pages.

But here's the thing: if you can't understand the way the main character thinks, if you can'tsympathizewith them, meaning you can't find that spark of familiarity, you won't care. You'll put the book down and move on. The readers might say they want something unique, something exotic, but deep down, they're looking for that thread that ties them to the story.

Something they can latch onto, some emotion or experience that feels real to them.

On the other hand, people don't want to seetoo muchof themselves in character. That's when it gets uncomfortable. A character who mirrors you too closely, who reflects your flaws and insecurities—those ugly sides of yourself you try to ignore—makes you face things you might not want to. It's like holding up a mirror, and most people don't like what they see when they look too hard.

But there's one thing that is clear: when someone reads a book, they internalize the main character—or at least the point of view of the character they're following.

It's inevitable.

"Oh? Soheis acting like this? That's an interesting way to approach the problem. Maybe that's how I would handle it… or maybe not."

Whether they realize it or not, they're stepping into the character's shoes, understanding the world through their eyes. And that's where the real advantage comes in.

By reading about other characters, the reader is essentially seeing the world through someone else's eyes. They begin to understand different perspectives, and concepts that might have seemed foreign or difficult to grasp can suddenly start making sense when viewed from another angle.

It's like having someone walk you through a maze you've been stuck in, offering insights that weren't clear from your own limited viewpoint.

In a way, those characters become a kind of stepping stone on the reader's journey. Each character, with their unique experiences, strengths, and flaws, adds another layer to the reader's understanding—not just of the story but of life itself. It's not just entertainment; it's an opportunity for growth, for seeing things differently, for expanding your own thinking.

You begin to realize that even if you disagree with a character's choices or if they make you uncomfortable, there's still something to be learned.

Their thought process and their way of navigating problems can offer solutions or perspectives that you hadn't considered before. And even when they stumble or fail, that too becomes part of the learning.

'That is why it weirdly is interesting to remember the chapters about some of the male leads.'

Shattered Innocencewas, at its core, a romance fantasy novel. Not exactly the most high-brow piece of literature, but still, it had its moments. It wasn't well-written—hell, far from it. There were so many inconsistencies with the characters that it became a running joke in my head. seaʀᴄh thё nôᴠel Fire.nёt website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

One chapter a male lead would be steadfast, rational, and loyal, and the next, he'd be impulsive, reckless, and frankly, irrational.

I used to think those inconsistencies were just bad writing. I'd chalk it up to the author being sloppy or not understanding their own characters. But now? Now I wonder. Maybe it wasn't just the writing. Maybe those inconsistencies were a reflection of my own narrow way of looking at life.

Maybe those actions, the ones I would never do, make perfect sense to someone else.

There's a reason why different people relate to different characters. While I might have found the male leads' actions nonsensical, maybe to someone else, it was exactly what they would do in that situation.

The impulsive choices, the reckless emotions—it all had a place in a story where people thought and felt differently than I did.

Still, while I disagreed with how the male leads were written and with many of their actions, there was one thing in the book that I actually liked.

It was how the concept of genius was explained.

'The detailed way of breaking down how a person with a talent thinks.'

That was somethingShattered Innocenceactually did well. It wasn't easy to pull off, but the writer nailed it in certain moments. One scene that always stood out to me was about the heir of the Mage Tower.

Being a romance fantasy book, it was full of ridiculously talented male leads, all with absurd backgrounds and skills to match. But this one, the heir, was different—or at least the way his mind was portrayed was different.

There was this particular episode where he explored a cave, hunting for a rare artifact. It wasn't some dramatic showdown or romantic entanglement; it was just him, alone, meticulously unraveling the secrets of that cave.

The episode took its time, slowing down to show how his mind worked, how he observed the smallest of details that others would have missed entirely.

How he had somehow sensed the mana different from others. What made his talent different was what made him the heir of the Magic Tower.

They were all made use of.

[Is it the place?]

Vitaliara's voice echoed in my head at that moment. The reason she asked…

Well, the place we are in right now is not a usual place.

I stood in front of the cave, the very same one described inShattered Innocence. The one where the heir of the Magic Tower made his breakthrough to the 5th star realm. It looked almost exactly as I'd pictured it—the jagged rock formations, the eerie stillness in the air, and that unmistakable pulse of mana. Faint, but undeniably there.

"Yes, that is."

I said quietly, my eyes scanning the entrance. To most, it would seem like an ordinary cave, forgotten in the depths of time. But I knew better. I knew what lay inside, and more importantly, I knew what had happened here.

[…..I sense a really strong energy from down there.]

I took a step closer, feeling the subtle hum of ancient magic coursing through the cave walls. It was faint, but unmistakable, the kind of energy that could only come from something—or someone—extraordinary.

[There's no doubt about it now. This place is more than just a cave,] Vitaliara murmured in my mind, her usual lazy tone replaced with a hint of caution. [I can feel the barrier… whoever created this didn't want it found easily.]

"That would be Arlen Morrowind's work," I whispered to myself. The archmage had been a legend, both feared and respected for his mastery of spatial and illusionary magic. He had left behind a treasure trove known asMorrowind's Vault, cleverly hidden from all but the most perceptive, and it seemed I had finally found its entrance.

The barrier was subtle, just like how it was described in the novel—a near-perfect illusion layered over reality, meant to divert attention from all but those who knew exactly what to look for.

The faint pulse of mana was the only clue.

"You won't be able to pass it like this." I held out my hand, letting my mana flow freely. The barrier flickered, rippling like the surface of disturbed water.

I extended my hand, drawing upon the mana from deep within my core, feeling the familiar warmth ofstarlight manaswirl through me. It pulsed, gentle yet steady, the very essence of light pulled from the heavens, refined and focused. My breathing steadied as I concentrated, visualizing the process I'd read about inShattered Innocence.

The trick wasn't brute force; Arlen Morrowind's barriers weren't meant to be broken, they were meant to be unraveled.

'It's just like threading a needle.'

With a focused breath, I condensed my mana into a thin thread, glowing faintly with the shimmer of stars. I let it hover in the air for a moment, admiring the delicate craftsmanship of it, before sending it forward, allowing the thread to drift toward the invisible barrier.

The moment the thread touched the barrier, it flickered, reacting to the intrusion. But I knew the secret. The key wasn't to force the mana through, but to weave it, guiding it along the natural flow of the barrier itself.

I began the delicate process, weaving the thread ofstarlight manaalong the surface of the barrier. Each movement was precise, careful, as if I were stitching two fabrics together. The thread wove in and out, following the hidden currents of the illusion, tracing the intricate design left behind by the archmage. The barrier rippled, responding to my mana but not resisting—just as the novel described.

Vitaliara's presence remained silent but alert, her curiosity evident as I worked. I could sense her observing every subtle movement I made, though for once she refrained from commenting, knowing this required my full focus.

Slowly, the barrier began to shift. It wasn't dramatic, no sudden crash of magic or flash of light. Instead, it was a gentle unweaving, the layers of illusion falling away one by one. The air around the entrance grew stiller, the oppressive weight of the ancient magic dissipating as the threads of the barrier unraveled.

[Impressive,] Vitaliara finally murmured, her voice barely a whisper in my mind. [I can see why they called Arlen Morrowind a genius.]

"More like obsessive," I muttered under my breath, but I couldn't help but agree. The sheer complexity of the barrier was astounding, and yet the solution had been so simple—if you knew where to look.

With one final tug of my mana thread, the barrier fell away completely, revealing the true entrance toMorrowind's Vault. What had once been a simple cave now transformed into something far more imposing.

The entrance yawned open, framed by ancient glyphs that shimmered faintly with dormant power as if daring anyone to step inside.

"Well…..Isn't it fitting of an Archmage?"

I couldn't help but smirk.

Since, at this exact moment, things started forming right in front of my face.