Chapter 2

I can easily search readily available information using the grimoires in mere minutes.

Using all information and asking some information from the infirmary nurse if have finally figured out which universe this is.

So the watchtower is unknown here, any invasion in justice league and unlimited version did not happen here and hall of justice exists

It is young justice universe and years before the plot starts . This is both bad and good for me . I am currently in 2005 5 years before event of the show, a show I mostly only read wiki about. I should not cause too much of butterfly effect before the beginning of the plot in this universe because of existence of fates and destiny of the endless.(I hope)

Once I had enough normal knowledge collected using grimoire I set it to the next main query I wanted .

All knowledge of lady shiva's martial arts.

Expected time 6 months

6 months is long time for a search for skills I am without extreme effort master even at the start of plot. But getting strong unarmed combat will be most helpful at this stage.

And one should not underestimate martial arts are extremely important skill in any world. You can see in Naruto, once Otsusuki came to earth only tajutsu and similar techniques would work on them and might guy could go toe to toe with Madara.

And if I had to use the semi-repaired world travel function of grimoire I might not be able to use other abilities in other world, the world adaptation function is the completely broken part of the grimoire.

So I should start my martial arts training early, it also the reason I want to join young justice team.

The best human martial artist in dc is after all wonder woman, searching her skills costed 12 years some of this is because she is much stronger than lady shiva but still I should have learned more from Diana when I had the chance.

Having just been released from the infirmary and now living among the other orphans, I've started to notice a few things. First and foremost, there are far too many of us here. It's almost as if the orphanage is taking in more children than it can realistically care for, though for what purpose, I can't quite say. Perhaps it's out of some misplaced charity, or maybe there's another reason entirely.

One thing is clear, though—the matron seems to be improbably skimping on a lot of expenses. The clothes we're given are threadbare at best, and the facilities… well, let's just say they're barely functional. I can't shake the feeling that funds allocated for us are disappearing elsewhere, though to question her openly would likely invite trouble.

The teachers here don't seem to care much for their jobs either. Lessons are dull, uninspired, and often interrupted by the teacher's own apathy. They're just going through the motions, and it's clear they'd rather be anywhere else but here. Learning anything worthwhile feels like an uphill battle.

On the brighter side, the food is at least edible. It's nothing to write home about—bland and repetitive—but it fills the stomach, and for that, I'm grateful. In a place like this, even the smallest comfort can feel like a blessing.

I collected all the ingredients needed for the starting ritual I wanted to perform. Most of the items were easily found in the kitchen, except for one—blood. It could be any blood, as long as it wasn't mine.

Meat in this orphanage is only eaten on Sundays, and even then, it's butchered outside. So, I had to improvise. Using my basic assassination skills, I came up with a plan.

I considered taking blood from one of my roommates... Just kidding! Instead, I set a trap and captured a pigeon. After carefully taking a small amount of blood, I released the bird unharmed.

I sneaked into the basement that night and performed the basic body-strengthening ritual.

The effects of the ritual were striking. Externally, I grew a few inches taller, and my posture straightened, giving me a presence that seemed unusual for a child my age. My muscles became more defined, though still within the realm of a healthy 7-year-old, and my skin gained a subtle radiance that hinted at enhanced vitality.

Internally, however, the transformation was even more profound. My strength and stamina rivalled that of a robust 12-year-old, and I could feel an energy coursing through me that seemed inexhaustible. I had a heightened awareness of my physical capabilities, as though every fibre of my being had been optimized for endurance and resilience. Despite these changes, the baggy clothes I wore in the orphanage concealed much of my transformation, keeping my newfound vitality a secret for the time being.

The next ritual I had planned was a mind-strengthening ritual. It required a full moon and the skull bone of any creature, which I easily obtained by offering to help in the kitchen during the weekend.

"Those ladies really shouldn't let a 7-year-old use a knife."

I waited eagerly for the night of the full moon. When it finally arrived, I sneaked back into the basement with my gathered materials. The air felt electric, and my heart pounded with both fear and excitement as I arranged the ingredients in the ritual circle. The skull bone was placed at the center, surrounded by runes I had carefully drawn from memory.

As I began chanting the incantation, a faint glow surrounded the circle. My head started to tingle, as though something was unlocking within my mind. The sensation grew stronger until it felt like a flood of knowledge and clarity rushing in. When the ritual ended, I felt... sharper. My thoughts were clearer, my memory more precise. It was as if my brain had been upgraded.

However, I also noticed something strange. Whenever I focused too hard, I could hear faint whispers, as if voices were trying to communicate with me. I wasn't sure if it was a side effect of the ritual or something else entirely, but I decided to ignore it for the time being.

With my body and mind enhanced, I couldn't help but wonder: what would the next ritual unlock?
It seems the voices I heard were only a temporary effect of the ritual, but I was left with the ability to sense certain psychic events. This newfound awareness solidified my decision to move forward with the next two rituals: soul strengthening and psychic strengthening/awakening.

For the soul-strengthening ritual, I required a sufficient number of live sacrifices. Using subtlety was essential to avoid drawing attention or suspicion. Initially, I considered using an entire ant colony but decided on a different approach for this particular ritual. Instead, I gathered ant larvae and eggs from a thriving colony under cover of darkness. These represented the nascent life force of the colony, untapped and pure, making them an ideal substitute. Their collective essence would fuel the ritual's demands under the darkness of a new moon.

The ritual itself was conducted in silence, with the larvae and eggs arranged meticulously within the sigils I had drawn. As the incantation began, a faint, pulsating light emerged from the circle, growing stronger as the essence of the sacrifices was consumed. I felt a surge of vitality spreading through me, infusing my body with a strength that belied my age. My stamina, resilience, and overall vigor now surpassed that of an active 12-year-old, yet my external appearance remained largely unaltered apart from a healthy glow.

For the psychic awakening ritual, I needed a creature with heightened intelligence for its species. An ant queen was a perfect candidate—a being that orchestrated the colony's existence. Carefully isolating the queen from her colony, I prepared her for the ritual. Her essence would serve as the catalyst for unlocking latent psychic potential within me.

The ritual itself was transformative in ways I hadn't anticipated. As the incantation concluded, a sharp wave of energy coursed through my mind, opening doors I never knew existed. Suddenly, I could feel the emotions and thoughts of living beings around me. It was as if an invisible thread connected me to all forms of life, allowing me to sense their joys, sorrows, and fears. The experience was overwhelming at first, like a symphony of emotions playing all at once. However, with practice, I began to distinguish individual threads of empathy, feeling the nuanced presence of every organism. This newfound ability was both enlightening and humbling, giving me a deeper understanding of the interconnectedness of life.

There is only one ritual left.

Magic

The thought of awakening magic filled me with deep apprehension. From what little I knew of the DC universe, human magic users often met tragic ends. But the ritual was right there in the Akashic Grimoire - just a series of precise instructions with almost no explanation. Like a cookbook that lists ingredients and steps but doesn't tell you why each matters.

The requirements were surprisingly basic: water that had seen moonlight, a candle, something personal to serve as a focus, and a specific pattern drawn on the ground. For my focus, I took out the small bundle of tattered clothes I'd been found in - the only remnant of my past life before the hospital and orphanage. I never let anyone know I still had them, keeping them hidden away like a secret treasure. They were worn and dirty, but they were mine - perhaps the only thing that truly was.

The Grimoire showed the exact diagram - all angles and lines with no explanation of their purpose. There were words too, written phonetically in a language I didn't recognize. I studied the pattern until I could draw it perfectly, practicing on scraps of paper before attempting it for real.

When I felt ready, I snuck down to the basement again. Drew the pattern in chalk, placed my tattered clothes in the center, set up the borrowed cup of moonlit water and my candle stub. Everything exactly as shown in the diagram, though I had no idea why each piece needed to be where it was.

The incantation felt strange on my tongue. As I spoke the words, following the rhythm marked in the Grimoire, something shifted. The candle flame changed color and the water began to glow. The chalk lines sparked with tiny lights - none of which the Grimoire had mentioned would happen. My old clothes seemed to pulse with a faint light, as if recognizing something of their original owner.

Then came the surge - like being caught in an invisible storm. The Grimoire hadn't warned about this at all. For a moment, I panicked, not sure if this was supposed to happen or if something had gone wrong. But stopping mid-ritual seemed more dangerous than continuing, so I forced myself to keep going, speaking each syllable precisely as marked.

When it ended, I felt different. There was a new awareness, a sense of energy I could access. The Grimoire had shown what the ritual would do but not how it would feel. I now had magic - a small well of power to draw from - but no instructions on what to do next. My old clothes seemed somehow more vibrant now, as if the ritual had awakened not just magic in me, but some echo of my unknown past within them.

I cleaned up carefully, erasing all evidence of the ritual. As I did, I could feel the magic moving within me, responding to my thoughts. The Grimoire had given me the key to unlock this power, but learning to use it safely would be up to me. I folded my clothes carefully and hid them away again, wondering if they might someday help me understand where I came from.

With magic awakened within me, I could feel my preparations nearing completion. The physical and mental enhancement rituals had given me the body and mind of someone well beyond my years. The psychic abilities let me sense danger and read intentions. Now, with magic flowing through me, I had another tool at my disposal.

But I wasn't ready to leave yet. The Akashic Grimoire was still collecting knowledge, particularly about martial arts. I needed those skills - not just for self-defense, but for the complete physical control and discipline they would provide. Living on the streets of a Gotham would be dangerous enough with preparation; attempting it without proper combat training would be foolish.

So I waited, maintaining my facade of normalcy at the orphanage. I kept wearing baggy clothes to hide my enhanced physique and was careful to perform at an average level in physical activities. The caretakers still saw me as that quiet, unremarkable seven-year-old who spent too much time reading. It was better that way.

During the day, I went through the motions of orphanage life - meals, classes, playtime. But at night, in the privacy of my bed, I practiced controlling my newly awakened magic. Nothing flashy or detectable - just learning to feel the energy flow, understanding how it responded to my will. The Grimoire hadn't provided instructions for this part, so I had to figure it out through careful experimentation.

I could feel the Grimoire gradually accumulating martial knowledge. Each day, more techniques and forms appeared in its pages. Soon, I would have access to a lifetime's worth of combat expertise. Combined with my enhanced body and magical abilities, it would give me the foundation I needed to survive on my own.

The hardest part was being patient. Every time I heard sirens in the distance or caught glimpses of costumed heroes on the orphanage's old TV, I felt the urge to rush my preparations. But in a world of gods and monsters, proper preparation could mean the difference between survival and tragedy.

I just needed to wait a little longer. The Grimoire would tell me when it was ready.