Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!
Chapter 192. History

Chapter 192: 192. History

Mia immediately rushed over to Verena. "Verena!!" she called out, panic lacing her voice.

She crouched down beside her friend, her hands trembling slightly as they hovered over Verena’s broken wrist. A soft, verdant glow began to emanate from her palm—gentle, healing, but trembling with frustration. The air was thick with tension.

Mia didn’t even try to hide it. She shot me a look filled with raw hatred and utter disappointment. Her glare was sharp, cutting. Lips pressed into a thin line, like she wanted to say something—maybe curse me, maybe scream—but she stopped herself. Just stood there, biting her tongue, letting her healing light flow instead.

And then, Kaelira walked forward.

She positioned herself between us without hesitation, meeting my eyes. "Hey, Cassius," she said, voice calm but tinged with mischief, "I know you want to go alone. Do your whole broody lone wolf thing. But you didn’t forget about this beauty, did you?" She gestured at herself with a grin. "You promised to search with me."

Right... I did promise her.

A part of me considered breaking it without a second thought but the more rational part reminded me that Kaelira was... useful.

I gave her a slow nod. "As you wish. But if something happens to you, don’t expect me to save you. Let this serve as a warning."

She tilted her head and let out a long, theatrical sigh. "You really are something else, huh... Would it hurt you to give me a little false sense of security?"

I folded my arms, my voice flat. "Isn’t it better this way? You know what to expect with me. So when I’m in danger, you’ll run. Save yourself."

She gave me a small pout, pretending to be hurt. "Well, if you put it that way... why not? You’re right."

I didn’t bother to smile or joke back. I simply turned toward Miss Celia, who was still frozen near Verena, her eyes wide, still staring in disbelief.

I snapped my fingers in her direction. "Hello, Miss Celia. Don’t daydream. Be a good teacher and send me to the academy. Preferably the library."

Her gaze snapped to me—sharp, burning. She glared like she was trying to peel my skin off with her eyes.

"You really are those bastard’s son..." she muttered, voice low, trembling with fury. "Completely and utterly inhumane. Wretched. You’re worse than maggots. All of you are."

I stared back at her, unflinching. It didn’t matter. Eventually, her gaze dropped.

She spat out her final words. "Go and die in that place. I’d rather not see your face ever again."

Without waiting, she raised her right hand and flicked it to the side, opening an oval portal—bluish in color, shimmering faintly with azure light.

I turned to Kaelira and gestured for her to follow. She smiled, and walked in beside me.

Before stepping through, I turned back to Miss Celia. "Truth be told, I’d also rather not see your face. But just to make it clear... I don’t hate you. You don’t want to see me, so naturally, I don’t want to see you either. It’s mutual."

I didn’t stick around to see her expression. But I heard a sharp exhale—maybe a snort, maybe a snicker.

Didn’t care.

I stepped through.

And instantly, the world changed.

The stagnant tension and the voices were replaced by silent order. I found myself inside the academy’s library—rows upon rows of towering shelves surrounded me.

Kaelira let out a breath beside me.

"Wow~" she whispered, her voice tinged with awe. "This place is massive. I don’t even know where to begin. It’ll take forever to search for anything about your fog-thing... and we don’t even have any clue what we’re looking for."

I shook my head slowly. "That’s where you’re wrong. We do have a clue."

She blinked, confused. "We do? That’s news to me. What is it?"

I looked at her for a long moment, wondering if I should tell her. Well if she tried anything... it wouldn’t be hard to kill her. One mistake. One wrong move. That’s all it would take.

But for now, I decided to give her a piece of the truth.

I turned toward the nearest shelf.

"Search for the element ’Nothing,’" I said quietly.

She didn’t say anything at first—just stood there staring at me. But then, slowly, a frown crept across her face. Her brows scrunched in clear annoyance as she snapped, "What? Which element? Are you going to be a bitch about it now? Just tell me already—don’t play these damn games. Weren’t you all cold and emotionless just a few moments ago? And now what? That mischievous bastard version of you is back?"

I ran a hand through my hair, dragging my fingers through the strands with a tired sigh. ’Yeah... a similar thing happened with Mia too. She couldn’t hear it either. My words, they didn’t reach her... I’m all on my own.’

It wasn’t anything new.

"Amethyst lightning," I repeated, voice low but certain. "Search for anything about amethyst lightning element."

She blinked, then gave a shrug like it wasn’t a big deal. "Should’ve just said that the first time. What’s with you, seriously? You’re switching moods more than a girl on her period. Get a grip, man."

I gave her a faint nod, nonchalantly brushing her words aside. "I’ll try. For now, you head up to the top floors and search there. I’ll scavenge the lower floor. Keep your eyes out for anything on elements... or on the world’s history, too."

That made her perk up. Her brows lifted with genuine curiosity. "History? Why? Don’t tell me you’re here to study like a nerd now."

I shook my head, lips twitching into a half-smile. "Not really. I just have questions. And I’m hoping the answers are buried somewhere in this place’s past. A long history means long-forgotten truths... and that’s exactly what I’m looking for."

She gave me a firm nod. There was a seriousness to her expression now. "Alright. I’ll see what I can find. Good luck to you."

"You too," I replied, lifting a hand in a casual wave as I turned to walk away.

I began making my way deeper into the library’s heart, letting my steps fall naturally between aisles and winding corridors. My eyes drifted across the endless shelves, scanning the engraved wooden plaques marking each section.

There was Mana Theory.

Application of Mana.

Philosophy.

Psychology.

Economics.

Biology.

Geography.

Architecture.

Astrology.

I even stumbled upon an expansive Literature section—surprisingly well-kept and categorized with care. Subsections like Romance, Tragedy, Horror, Psychology, Drama, Comedy, Philosophy, Fantasy, and even Personal Diaries rested peacefully on the high shelves.

But none of them held what I needed.

Each passing step reminded me of just how vast this place was. Maybe the information I needed was stored in the upper levels—maybe the restricted areas.

Down here, it felt like only the general, watered-down knowledge was kept.

Still, I kept moving, cutting through row after row, until eventually I found what I was looking for: the Elements section.

My eyes scanned the spines quickly. Titles jumped out at me:

"The Most Basic Elements"

"Check If You Have the Strongest Element?"

"Ranking of Elements: From Fire to the Forbidden"

"Everything You Need to Know About Elements"

"Elements Guide for Toddlers"

"Hypothesis of Newer Elements"

"How to Check Your Affinity?"

There were so many. I started pulling them down one by one, flipping through pages and skimming their contents with practiced urgency.

But nothing. Nothing on Nothing. Nothing on Amethyst Lightning.

Still, there was something. Something close.

In a book titled "The Power of Lightning", I found a peculiar entry—a speculative theory about lightning elements existing on a broader color spectrum. The author had proposed that lightning wasn’t a monolith, but a spectrum like light itself.

Yellow.

Blue.

Green.

Red.

Indigo.

Orange.

Each color had its own distinct properties, abilities, temperaments. It was an elegant theory, almost poetic in its structure.

But... no violet. No amethyst. No mention of the color that echoed in my soul.

And that felt wrong.

The author of this hypothesis was a man named Emanuel Blitz, someone who had lived on the Northern Continent—far from here.

I closed the book with a soft thud and returned it to its place on the shelf, my hand lingering on the cover for a brief moment. My thoughts trailed back to that name.

’Emanuel Blitz...’

A quiet whisper echoed in my mind, a gut feeling that I had just uncovered the edge of something massive. Maybe the violet lightning wasn’t common knowledge. Maybe it wasn’t even accepted as real.

But this man, this theorist—he had touched on something.

Something close.

I made a mental note.

’I need to meet him. He might hold the truth I’ve been looking for. Secrets buried in the lightning... and maybe even deeper.’

With a sigh, I looked back at the ginormous shelfs of books still ready to be harvested. Maybe, I wouldn’t even need to meet him. Maybe, I would find what I wanted.