*** Snowkeep Palace - Duke's Office ***

The first light of morning crept through the tall, arched windows of the palace archives, cutting across the long tables in thin, golden lines. Dust motes drifted lazily through the beams, glinting like faint embers as they rose and fell with the breath of the room.

It was quiet, almost sacredly so. Only the slow flicker of candlelight and the faint rustle of parchment broke the silence.

Justinian sat alone at the center desk, sleeves rolled, coat discarded over the chair behind him. Before him lay a single book, the Old World Encyclopedia.

Its cover was worn, the letters faded and foreign, but the knowledge within glowed in his mind like fire. He had spent half the night poring over it, every turn of a page feeling like a revelation.

Irrigation methods, early engineering sketches, grain rotation cycles, and even the concept of civic schooling, ideas that could transform his entire duchy if properly applied.

But only if they could be spread.

He rubbed his temple, fatigue mixing with excitement. "Why the hell did it have to come in a different language?" he murmured to himself. "If I'm the only one who understands this, then it dies with me."

He turned another page, his gaze steady on a simple diagram, an aqueduct cross-section, labeled in archaic script.

In another world, such a sketch would be meaningless. Here, it was a revolution drawn in ink.

The door creaked open behind him.

"My lord," came Darius' voice, quiet but alert. "You haven't slept?"

Justinian didn't look up. "I'll catch up on sleep later."

Darius sighed, stepping closer, his boots echoing against the marble floor. "You've been at this since midnight... what are you even working on?"

"Education," Justinian replied, still turning pages. "It's not a full curriculum, but it works."

Darius tried to lean in closer, seeing the book's overall thickness. "W-What in the...!? How many pages is that!?"

Justinian finally leaned back, his eyes dazed and tired, closing the book with deliberate care. "I don't know..."

The book itself defied all logic; it had over ten thousand pages, but its thickness barely resembled that. At first glance, it looked like it only contained a few thousand, but due to the system's magic, it contained more than what was even possible to bind in a book.

He looked up, the faint dawn reflected in his eyes, calm, resolute, almost feverish. "Bring every scribe who can still hold a quill. Every scholar who hasn't fled the city. I don't care if they worked for the temple or the guild. As long as they can read, I need them."

Darius hesitated. "All of them, my lord? The clerks, the priests, even the ones who—"

"Yes." Justinian's tone left no room for argument. "Have those who aren't working on the new census work on this..."

A pause. The words lingered in the dusty air.

Darius slowly nodded, understanding that whatever was about to happen would not be small, nor quiet. "I'll send word immediately."

As he left, Justinian exhaled and placed a hand over the encyclopedia. The leather was rough beneath his palm, the smell of ink faint but familiar.

He smiled faintly, a tired but satisfied one; the experience allowed him to remember his past studying for exams back in college.

[False Divine]

He focused his miracle into the book, changing its language to one that matched the world it was in. It had been a while since he used a miracle.

'From a stupid career choice,' he thought, 'To something that somehow became useful.'

The morning deepened into motion.

Scribes arrived by the dozens, some in plain robes, others in worn clerical garb. They entered hesitantly, whispering to one another, unsure why the duke himself had summoned them to his personal office.

Long tables had been set up that, once gathered dust, were now lined with fresh parchment, new ink, sharpened quills, and enough candles to last the week.

When Justinian finally stood, the murmuring died instantly.

He looked across the hall, at the uncertain faces, at the hands that once recorded taxes and decrees, now trembling before something greater.

"This book," he began, resting his hand on the encyclopedia, "Is all my knowledge combined into one."

Justinian gave a simple lie, better than having to explain it was from a different world or society altogether. It was better to believe that a divine duke had access to forbidden knowledge than to convince them it was otherworldly.

"But the knowledge inside it belongs to every man, woman, and child in this duchy. You will copy it, every page, every mark. There will be no mistakes, no shortcuts. You will give this knowledge a thousand voices."

His tone wasn't a shout; it was command and conviction wrapped in calmness, each word cutting through the air like steel.

"I don't care if it takes weeks. Or months. Every town will have one. Every city hall will have one. Every new academy we build from now on will use it."

The head scribe, an elderly man with ink-stained sleeves, stepped forward nervously. "My lord… so many copies, it could take—"

"Then it will take as long as it needs to," Justinian interrupted softly. "I'll have the servants cater to your every whim, you will all live like royalty, but only if you work."

He turned to Darius, who had just reentered with a handful of ledgers. "Assign shifts. No one works to exhaustion. Pay them double the normal rate, and make sure they eat well."

"That's… generous, my lord," Darius said, blinking in surprise.

"It's not generosity," Justinian replied. "It's an investment."

He leaned over the table, opening the encyclopedia again. "Start with agriculture and basic epidemiology. Those will matter most for now. The rest will follow."

Darius took a moment, then nodded and began barking orders.

The sound of footsteps filled the room. The first pages were set down. The first quills dipped in ink.

The archives came alive.

"W-what in the world is epidemiology!?"

"What matter of forbidden knowledge is this...?"

The scribes each murmured, all being burdened by the sudden assault of information, but the only thing that kept their sanity together was Justinian's presence, his divine status explaining all the questions they needed.

At least they pretended it did.

And as the sun climbed higher, light pooled across the marble floor, illuminating the lines of ink spreading from desk to desk, like veins of black fire crawling across parchment.

"The moment you're done with a page, have the others cross-check it, then after that, submit it to the pile!"

Justinian paced around his office, a study that only used to be occupied by Darius and him, now thriving with work.

'So this is what it really means to be a duke...'

"After the first volume is complete, hand it out to literate servants, have them read it out in public."

The entire palace had now turned into something more akin to a sweatshop than a royal's extravagant abode.

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