IMPORTANT NEWS
Here is another book
Crown of Light is:-
Caelum Valerius POV
In the cold heart of Crescent Academy, where sunlight barely reached the obsidian towers and magic shaped the very foundation of reality, a boy walked alone.
Lucien Thorne.
Seventeen years old. Unregistered noble blood. Top of every arcane theory class. Bottom of every court banquet guest list. They feared his brilliance—and perhaps rightly so.
For Lucien wasn't born into greatness. He was born to unravel it.
Beneath the east wing of Crescent, where few dared to tread, a forgotten stairwell spiraled into the abyss. Dust danced like whispers in the air. Torchlight flickered, then dimmed under the weight of the wards guarding what lay below.
Lucien's violet eyes shimmered faintly. Runes, invisible to most, mapped themselves across the walls in his vision—glyphs of warding, entrapment, and silence.
"Standard enchantments for the uninspired," he muttered.
With a flick of his fingers, the symbols unraveled. A quiet snap echoed. He stepped .
Before him stood a pedestal of ancient stone, entwined with silverthorn vines. Atop it floated a forbidden tome: Codex Nullis, the Book of the Unwritten. Locked away centuries ago after it erased a city from existence.
Lucien heart pounded.
He raised a hand and whispered, "Reconstruction Directive: Glyph Unbind."
The runes flared, fought, and failed.
The book opened.
And the world shifted.
Energy pulsed outward in a silent wave. Far above, bells began to toll across Crescent Academy—an emergency ward breach.
Lucien didn't flinch.
He took the first page and read. The words rearranged themselves as he observed. Not merely knowledge, but power that bent to his understanding.
Behind him, heavy steps echoed—the sound of sentinels, drawn by alarm.
Lucien turned calmly. The tome vanished into a flicker of magic, absorbed into his coat as a parchment-thin shard. He slipped into the shadows of the corridor, unseen, unheard.
In the Great Hall above, magisters gathered students, chanting protective spells. Crystalline golems marched the halls, sweeping for signs of intrusion. Yet none suspected the boy who calmly returned to his quarters, smudged with dust and carrying the seeds of revolution.
That night, Lucien stared at the fractured mirror in his dormitory, watching the faint glow of runes pulse beneath his skin.
His gift wasn't merely talent.
It was a curse of understanding.
Where others saw incantations, he saw flaws—faults in the architecture of power. Crescent's teachings served the royal elite, enforced magical hierarchy, and chained knowledge to bloodlines.
Lucien was born outside those lines. And he had found the scissors.
He whispered to himself, voice cold and quiet, "Caelum Valerius, heir of light. They've chosen you to lead. But I will show them that prophecy bows to principle. That even stars can burn out."
Outside, storm clouds circled over Crescent Academy once more.
And deep below, in the vault he had breached, the Codex whispered in an old tongue:
"He who wears the Thorns shall unmask the Crown."
Lucien smiled.
Let the game begin.