The Sorcerer's Handbook

The prisoners quickly stopped hurling insults when they realized that every curse caused the executioners behind them to swell and grow larger.

That was why only dim-witted people ended up on death row. They had forgotten that hundreds of thousands of people in Caimon City were watching them spew filth in real time.

The audience was delighted. Good. Curse more. The dirtier, the more obscene, the better. Another vote for you. Die sooner and get it over with.

When the chaos finally died down, Nagu spoke in an even, measured tone. “If you feel pain, that is not due to any arrangement on our part. It is your own problem. I already stated that as long as you sincerely repent, the purging flame will not affect you. The Purging Flame of Atonement burns sin and consumes delusion.

“Not everyone feels pain. Look at Mr. Ashe Heath and Mr. Varkas Uhl. They are completely unaffected. Learn from them.”

After the reminder, the others, wracked by agony that felt as if their organs were being torn apart, notice that Ashe and Varkas stood almost flush against their executioners. The raging flames passed straight through their bodies, yet they remained upright and unmoved.

Nagu continued, “If you feel pain, you should seize this opportunity. Accept the cleansing of the flame, repent for your sins, and turn over a new leaf.”

He wasn’t mocking them. If anything, he seemed genuinely intent on persuading them. “The Blood Moon Lord and the citizens of Caimon City will see your sincerity.”

“I admit my mistakes, I admit... Ahhhhh!”

Harvey screamed until tears and snot streamed down his face. His gaunt features twisted like warped wood grain. More than half his body hung beyond the edge of the platform, and the steel wire cutting into his hands had bitten so deeply that his bone was visible. Yet even danger and torment like this could not compare to a single wisp of the purging flame brushing against him.

Nagu said calmly, “You can only earn the Blood Moon’s forgiveness once you fully realize how unforgivable your past crimes were, and completely sever yourself from that sinful former self.”

His lips curved upward. “Of course, there is also a more convenient method. As long as you continue to endure the burning of the flame, your sinful soul will be reduced to ashes. What remains will naturally be the good soul.”

As absurd as it sounded, Ashe did not think Nagu was lying, at least not on a live broadcast watched by the entire population.

That meant the Purging Flame of Atonement could split a person’s personality. Through prolonged and overwhelming pain, it separated a so-called good persona from the inmate, then quite literally tortured the original self to death.

The moment the inmates heard this, nearly all of them wished they could hang themselves from the steel wire. Compared to death, the destruction of the soul was even harder to accept.

Ashe saw Harvey muttering to himself. He choked back a sob and twitched his mouth. “I get it... I get it now... We’re finished this time...”

Out of curiosity, Ashe asked, “What are you afraid of? Didn’t you say the Blood Moon Tribunal only kills one person? If you endure it, it will pass.”

Harvey cried with an expression that looked almost like a laugh. “Not every Blood Moon Tribunal ends the same way. This time, we ran into one of the rare exceptions. I remember now. Old Man Rain mentioned it. Someone important from the Andrea faction is going to die soon. A whole batch of administrative officials and council members will be brought down...”

“What does a political shake-up have to do with the Blood Moon Tribunal?”

Harvey said hoarsely, “Tell me, which do you think is more entertaining to watch? A serial killer, or an official exposed for corruption and fraud?”

It quickly became clear to Ashe that the entertainment value of an execution was directly proportional to the prisoner’s former social status.

Harvey went on, “Political struggles in the Blood Moon Kingdom are the most brutal. Every official or council member who rises to power has blood on their hands. The winners take everything, while the losers face the tribunal and are squeezed for every last drop of their social value. It satisfies the public and warns other bureaucrats to act more discreetly and cover their tracks carefully.”

“You know quite a lot,” Ashe said.

“What do you think the bodies I used to handle belonged to?”

“But even if we’re about to get new cellmates, what does that have to do with the Blood Moon Tribunal suddenly deciding to spare no one?”

Harvey looked utterly aggrieved. “There aren’t enough cells.”

Ashe froze. Countless wild thoughts sprang up in his mind. That... actually makes perfect sense.

Since there weren’t enough prison cells, a few inmates had to die to make room for the disgraced officials soon to arrive. The logic was brutally practical and so starkly realistic it was almost laughable.

There are too many prisoners, so some have to be eliminated. This is ridiculous, cruel, and bluntly honest.

Harvey gritted his teeth and launched himself onto the steel wire, swinging forward toward the main platform. “Ungh!”

Each swing scraped his palms raw. Blood flowed repeatedly, and before long, the flesh on his hands was ground away, exposing bone so vividly it made one’s teeth ache. Yet Ashe could clearly see that Harvey’s hand bones were not the usual pale white. They glimmered with a silvery sheen.

Once the flesh on his palms was gone, Harvey’s speed suddenly increased. Even as the wire scraped across his bone with a shrill, fingernail-on-chalkboard sound, he seemed entirely unfazed. He even looked calm.

Ashe thought, A spirit that reinforced bone durability?

The other death row inmates also seized the steel wires and fled. Some had skin tough enough that the wire left only shallow red marks, while others relied on their agility and ran straight along the wire.

The most absurd was the ogre. He revealed himself to be a Temperature Class sorcerer. By rapidly lowering the temperature, he coated the steel wire in a thick layer of ice, then swung his body and slid straight across.

Ashe watched in awe. The prison really is full of talent. Everyone speaks so politely, and they each have all kinds of tricks hidden up their sleeves.

Compared to those scrambling to escape, Ashe, untouched by the flames, had far more time to think. He turned to look at Nagu, standing on the observation platform behind him, facing the sea.

Nagu noticed his gaze. He clasped his hands behind his back and smiled faintly. “A very good thought. Instead of struggling along the steel wire under Blood Moon rules, why not break the rules and fall back into the prison?”

***

The customers in the Red Mist Bar exclaimed in unison. “Oh, right! If they jump back into the prison, won’t they avoid all this and escape the Blood Moon Tribunal?”

“Are there no other traps?”

“Can they really escape the torture just like that? What is Shattered Lake Prison doing? It’s such a fun tribunal mode. How could they mess it up so badly?

“A bunch of bastard sons of scum! Refund us!”

Lawrence noticed Ashe Heath’s odds had dropped sharply from 1.65 to 1.45. Boss Snake had clearly sensed Ashe’s rising chance of ”winning” and adjusted the odds in time to prevent losses.

Lawrence paused for a moment, and then it clicked. He finally understood why Shattered Lake Prison had designed things this way. The Blood Moon Tribunal had captivated the entire kingdom for decades, not just because of its spectacle, but also its intense interactivity.

An obvious loophole like this was deliberately left in place. It existed to give the audience a moment of satisfaction and a chance to personally strangle the criminals’ hope. There was no entertainment more thrilling than granting hope only to crush it into despair.