The Sorcerer's Handbook

Chapter 187: Veela and Everlasting Doom

The seasoned fraudster critiqued, ”That negotiation tactic, with one playing good cop and the other the villain, is practical enough, but your performance was awful. You still looked unnatural. If that elf had opened a few holes in my companion, we might have felt some tension. Instead, you spoke stiffly and didn’t even try to add a little sweet, sour, bitter, or spicy pressure. You just chatted dryly, and honestly, that made me feel reassured.”

Setting aside Iger, the swindler profiting off other people’s stupidity, or the necromancer who grew up in the underworld and had long since lost count of his kills. Even Ashe, an inexperienced youth, could see at a glance that the two women were playing off each other. No one could possibly fall for it.

Tears streamed down Cliose’s face. ”Failing to catch Serena is one thing... but being mocked by a few outlanders is just... sob...”

”That’s a bit much, sister. And when you cry, could you raise the gun a little? I’m afraid you might lose control,” Ashe said in disbelief.

The woman in purple smiled. ”You are bold. If I were in your shoes, I would pretend not to notice and gratefully sign the contract. Your lives are in my hands. Do you really think you have any leverage to bargain?”

Iger spoke calmly, ”Yes. I don’t know the exact value, but you clearly need us outlanders. If I’m not mistaken, outlanders are extremely rare here. The three of us may be the only bargaining chips you can secure.

”That means we are valuable yet scarce. If you want to make use of us, you must take our opinions seriously. Otherwise, you won’t find replacements. Forget about slave contracts. State your real demand.”

The woman in purple said with a smile, ”Cliose isn’t wrong. People like you, who can quickly grasp the situation yet were not raised listening to the Gospel, will eventually become enormous threats.”

”Thanks for the compliment.”

A wicked smile appeared on her face. ”But you seem to have forgotten something. Yes, I need outlanders, but there are three of you. I still get to choose.”

She pulled out a Contract Weave Paper and tore it cleanly in half. ”I think I only need one new slave, one who isn’t too clever. Pretty girl, you’re out.”

Iger’s mouth twitched in anger. ”I’m a man!”

The woman in purple took out a second Contract Weave Paper and made a tearing gesture. ”Well then, although I only need one new slave, I wouldn’t mind having two if you lot know what’s good for you.”

Still, she received no response.

Ashe and Harvey watched her calmly, without the slightest trace of fear, as though they were merely observing a clumsy stage performance. This time, even the woman in purple struggled to maintain her composure. She clenched her teeth and said, ”What are you, brothers bound by life and death?”

”They simply see through your bluff,” Iger said. ”If you really only needed one outlander, why not have that elf open my skull and check the quality first?”

Ashe added, ”Putting everything else aside, I’m all for that. I want to see if his brain really is as black as ink.”

The woman in purple glared at the three of them. Her exquisite face radiated a chilling hostility, and the atmosphere grew heavier by the second. Just as Ashe thought she might lash out to defend her pride, the cries of rescued children cut through the tension.

She sighed. ”What sort of degenerate nation produces cunning demons like you?”

”I prefer to call it wisdom,” Iger replied calmly.

The woman in purple took out another intact Contract Weave Paper and tapped it lightly. Lines of text appeared across its surface.

She said. ”This is my bottom line. Sign it, or die here.”

Cliose fired three quick shots, severing the Miracle-crafted chains binding Ashe and the others without causing them the slightest harm.

The stowaways showed no intention of resisting. The mana-restricting collars still hung around their necks, and a dozen Red Hats stood ready around them. Not to mention, the weeping female elf behind them alone was enough to crush any daring thoughts. She might have failed to capture Serena, but she was most likely still a Three-Winged Sacred Realm sorcerer.

Even a cult leader of Ashe’s level had Gerard attending him. Serena clearly outranked Ashe in every respect, so Cliose, tasked with capturing Serena, could not possibly be weaker than Gerard. Moreover, Cliose appeared to rank tenth on the Overall Red Hat List. It would be stranger if she did not possess the rainbow wing.

As for why a Three-Winged sorcerer had failed to capture a seemingly weak cult leader, with Ashe as a vivid example, Iger and Harvey had long since come to regard such things as perfectly normal.

They obediently picked up the contract to read it. Strange expressions quickly appeared on their faces. They exchanged glances but said nothing.

The woman in purple grew truly angry this time. Her emerald pupils narrowed, almost sharpening into murderous slits. ”Are you trying to push your luck?”

Ashe raised a hand. ”No, we just have a small request.”

”What request?”

He lifted the contract. ”Could you give us a dictionary? There are some words we don’t understand.”

Saying ”some” was Ashe being modest. They couldn’t comprehend nearly half the text. The difference between these characters and the Blood Moon script wasn’t just like simplified versus traditional Chinese; it was more like the gap between modern writing and Martian code.

Interestingly, the other half of the text matched the Blood Moon script exactly. That was to be expected. Languages naturally diverge over time, even when they share common roots. Being unable to read half the writing was entirely reasonable. Ashe and the others were already lucky to understand the spoken language.

Ashe suddenly remembered that the Swordswoman’s accent had sounded a little unusual, too. Later, he learned she was from the countryside, which he had assumed was just part of her charm.

”Ah, my apologies. That was an oversight on my part,” the woman in purple said, snapping her fingers.

A gorgeously bound amethyst book appeared before her. Perhaps they had heard its name too many times today, or perhaps it carried a peculiar charm. The moment they saw it, the three of them recognized it as the Book of Gospel.

”One point each. My treat.”

The girl tossed three golden melon seeds to them. Iger rubbed one between his fingers; it felt slimy. ”What is this?”

”The gospel of mortals, the medium of knowledge, the foundation of omniscience, the nemesis of ignorance, and the seed of wisdom.”

She smiled. ”Call it the Wisdom Seed. Eat one, and you’ll instantly master our language.”

***

At the outskirts of Caimon City in the Blood Moon Kingdom.

”It’s a pity we can’t go upstream to the waterfall,” Adela said, sitting on a small stool. She gazed at the crimson falls glowing beneath the blood moon, regret written all over her face.

”Camping here is fine too,” Freya replied casually. She lifted the pot lid with iron tongs. ”The seafood hotpot’s ready. I’m starving. Didn’t expect the sky to turn red before we could eat. It’s your fault for not knowing how to catch fish, Adela.”

”It’s obviously your fault for not knowing how to start a fire!”

They bickered loudly, all while scooping up food, blowing on it, and eating with satisfaction.

Clearly, the two were camping, though not in the proper sense. True camping should be done alone. It formed part of a sorcerer’s preparatory training.

After entering the Virtual World, a sorcerer must travel alone through the Sea of Knowledge, where they’d endure loneliness, fear, and silence. For social creatures like humans, new sorcerers often needed time to adapt to such solitary adventures. To cultivate their willpower in advance, apprentices simulate Virtual World exploration through real-world activities.

Wilderness survival closely mirrored the challenges of the Virtual World. Most university students camp to practice independent living, and the risks were part of the experience. Encounters with dangerous people or even life-threatening situations were not uncommon. Danger was essential. Without it, the exercise held no real value.

Freya and Adela, however, were camping the wrong way. In the Virtual World, sorcerers rarely traveled in pairs, so their unconventional approach offered no real benefit to their training.

After eating her fill, Adela turned her attention back to the river above the waterfall. ”What do you think happened up there? Why is it a restricted zone?”

Their original campsite had been upstream, where wild animals like bears and wolves roamed. True to her thrill-seeking nature, Adela had brought handguns, bombs, and other weapons, eager for a nighttime game of ”who is the hunter” with the wildlife. But upon arrival, she discovered that the Heresy Court had completely sealed off the area, and unauthorized entry was strictly forbidden.

”Maybe there’s a Virtual Channel,” Freya said as she removed her clothes.

”You’re already in the mood right after eating?”

She pointed toward the nearby river. ”No. I’m going to bathe. Relax. I can hold out for a night or two.”

”What about three nights?”

”Can you stop gambling for three days straight?”

Adela said, ”You’re amazing. I can only quit for one day at most.”

Watching the veela hop cutely into the crimson river, Adela let out a quiet sigh of relief. The last time she had tried to relax with Freya, it had ended with her doing all the relaxing. Even beauty failed to tempt the veela. Adela was becoming more convinced that Freya was truly peculiar.

After some thought, Adela had brought her camping to experience nature. Her reasoning was sound. Camping, facing harassment, and even the threat of attack were all part of the rites of passage for a sorceress at university, and she could not afford to skip them.

Wait. If Freya went to bathe, then who is supposed to wash the dishes and pots?

Grumbling, Adela picked up the utensils and moved upstream to wash them, hoping to disgust the veela with greasy residue. Freya, spotting her scheme, swam over ingratiatingly. ”Let me wash a bowl for you—”

Splash!

At the sound, both of them turned toward the waterfall.

”Did you hear that?” Adela asked.

Freya nodded. ”I did. Something fell into the waterfall. Could it be a rock?”

”I don’t think so...”

Under their tense gazes, a small figure in a black dress drifted along the current. She looked delicate and forlorn, like an abandoned child.

The soaked doll-like girl whimpered, ”Big sisters... please... help little Serena.”