KamiKowa: That Time I Got Transmigrated With A Broken Goddess-Chapter 208: [] The Hermit in the Book Maze

Xavier followed the bloody tracks through the corridor, his boots making soft impressions in the ancient dust. Naomi and Margaret flanked him, with Ashley bringing up the rear. The crystals grew denser here, jutting from walls like frozen lightning, casting prismatic shadows that shifted without source.

"The blood trail ends here," Xavier whispered, stopping before a stone archway. Beyond it lay darkness so complete it seemed solid.

"Could be a trap," Naomi said, knife ready in her hand.

Xavier pulled one of his twin daggers, the Fang humming softly against his palm. The King’s Gaze offered calculations, probabilities, escape routes—but Ashley’s presence nearby dampened its influence, letting his own instincts surface.

"Only one way to find out."

He stepped through the archway. For three heartbeats, total darkness enveloped him. Then, as if responding to his presence, crystals embedded in the ceiling began to glow with soft blue light, revealing what lay beyond.

The chamber was vast and circular, stretching nearly fifty meters across with a domed ceiling that disappeared into shadow. What had once been orderly library shelves had been transformed into something else entirely—a sprawling, three-dimensional maze of books stacked in precarious towers that reached toward the ceiling. Rope bridges and wooden planks connected these literary pillars, creating pathways suspended throughout the space.

In the center, a clear area had been established. Maps and diagrams covered the floor in concentric circles. Strange contraptions whirred and clicked—devices cobbled together from metal scraps, crystal shards, and what looked like clockwork pieces salvaged from the ruins.

And there, hunched over a workbench, sat a figure Xavier recognized despite the changes.

"Nolan," he breathed.

The figure stiffened, then whirled around. A crossbow—clearly handmade but no less deadly—came up in a single, practiced motion, aimed directly at Xavier’s chest.

"Stop right there," Nolan commanded, his voice raspier than Xavier remembered. "Three more steps and you die."

Xavier raised his hands slowly, keeping his dagger visible but non-threatening. "Nolan. It’s us."

The others filed in behind him, spreading out cautiously. Nolan’s eyes darted between them, narrowing behind thick glasses that had been repaired with copper wire.

"You’re not them," he said. "You wear their faces, but you’re not them."

Xavier studied the man holding them at bay. This was Nolan, but the academy’s nervous energy had been burned away, leaving something harder in its place. He shifted his weight, and the motion was economical, dangerous. The awkward boy who used to trip over his own feet was gone. His gaze swept over them, not with the old social anxiety, but with the unnerving focus of a predator assessing a threat.

"It’s really us, Nolan," Margaret said gently. "We came through the gate, same as you."

Nolan’s crossbow didn’t waver. "Prove it."

Xavier considered what would convince him. Not something obvious—Nolan was too smart for that. It needed to be personal, something only they would share.

"Professor Rousseau’s pop quiz," Xavier said finally. "The one on gate theories. You got every answer right, but he marked you wrong on question seventeen because your handwriting was too small to read. You were too nervous to confront him about it, so you just accepted the B-plus."

Something flickered across Nolan’s face—recognition, memory.

"And?" he pressed, crossbow still aimed.

"And I told you that you should have fought for those points," Xavier continued. "But you said it didn’t matter. That sometimes it’s better to be underestimated."

The crossbow lowered slowly. Nolan’s shoulders slumped, the tension bleeding from them.

"Xavier," he said. "It’s actually you."

Naomi released a breath she’d been holding. "Can we skip the part where you point deadly weapons at us now?"

Nolan set the crossbow on his workbench, but his movements remained cautious. "How did you find me?"

"Resonance Compass," Xavier explained, pulling it from his pocket. "It locks onto displaced souls like ours."

Nolan took a step back. "Put that away. The crystals here will amplify its signal. You might as well light a beacon for the Inquisitor." 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

Xavier pocketed the compass quickly. "Speaking of which, we found a dead White Raven outside. Your work?"

Nolan shook his head. "No. That was Lorna."

"Lorna?" Margaret asked.

"A friend. Another hermit who lives in these ruins." Nolan gestured vaguely upward. "She guards the upper levels. I stay down here with the archives."

Ashley moved forward, examining one of Nolan’s contraptions. It consisted of crystal shards suspended on copper wires, rotating slowly around a central axis.

"What is all this?" she asked.

"Research. Defense mechanisms. Early warning systems." Nolan picked up a small device that resembled a pocket watch. "This one detects White Ravens by the crystal implants they carry."

Xavier took in the vast collection of books, maps, and jury-rigged equipment. "You’ve been busy."

Nolan laughed—a short, harsh sound nothing like the nervous chuckle Xavier remembered. "I’ve had to be. The Winter Court has been hunting me."

"Why?" Naomi asked bluntly.

Nolan pushed his glasses up with one finger. "Because I know things. Things they don’t want anyone to know."

He led them deeper into the chamber, past towering book stacks to a table where a massive map was spread out. It covered the entire Westlands territory, with markings in different colors and small notations in Nolan’s cramped handwriting.

"My ability has... evolved since coming here," Nolan explained, running his fingers over the map. "You remember how Underdog’s Resolve worked at the academy? The more someone dismisses or underestimates me, the stronger I become?"

Xavier nodded. "You got a power boost whenever Kyrie made fun of your height."

"Exactly. But here..." Nolan gestured to the ruins around them. "Everything in these ruins sees me as insignificant. The Archivist, the crystal entities, even the White Ravens—they all dismiss me as nothing. Just another human, easily broken, easily forgotten."

"And that triggers your ability," Margaret realized.

"Constantly. At a level I never experienced at the academy." Nolan tapped his temple. "My mind works differently now. I see patterns others can’t. Connections between seemingly unrelated events."

Xavier noted the changes in Nolan’s demeanor. Gone was the stuttering, anxious student who shrank into corners. This Nolan stood straighter, spoke more confidently—yet something haunted lingered in his eyes.

"The Winter Court fears you because you can predict their movements," Xavier guessed.