The Sorcerer's Handbook

After about ten minutes, Ashe’s treatment was mostly finished, and the hovering car came to a stop.

Annan didn’t open the door. Instead, she took out a remote and pressed a button. A drone rose from the rear compartment, a specialized model with low-noise propulsion. It glided upward in near-total silence, climbing to several floors above.

Annan said, ”The beastman sorcerer from earlier lives here. Tonight, he studies from 8 p.m. to 4 a.m., then enters the Virtual World in an education pod for three hours before leaving at seven to go to work.”

”That’s what you call a full life,” Ashe remarked.

Annan pressed the remote again. A light screen unfolded in the air. ”His wife would agree. This is the drone’s feed... If you stay lying on my lap, you won’t see it clearly.”

”Oh, the treatment’s done already?” Ashe straightened, a little embarrassed. ”I thought...”

He stopped mid-sentence as the screen pulled his attention away.

A brutal scene filled the projection.

It didn’t take long for Ashe to realize that the main characters in the scene were a pure-love beastman warrior and a blonde minotaur.

The beastman was brutally beating the naked minotaur, while a pajama-clad elf woman with her hands bound cowered to the side in fear.

He asked, ”Can beastmen and elves reproduce? I thought different species couldn’t have children together.”

That was the first thing he noticed. In the Blood Moon Kingdom, species-level reproductive isolation was strictly enforced. Humans, ogres, goblins, and beastmen were highly prolific, while elves and veelas, with much lower fertility, were extremely rare.

Annan explained, ”The problem of species incompatibility was solved centuries ago. Back then, people believed children with mixed bloodlines would inherit all the traits of their parent species, making them ideal for festival rewards. So sorcerers began experimenting with Miracles that overcame sexual incompatibility. But the results weren’t perfect. Newborns only expressed one dominant trait, while all other bloodlines remained recessive.

”Now, every child undergoes vaccination and genetic adjustment over ten years. By adulthood, the species-level reproductive barrier is eliminated. Some families still follow tradition and skip the process, but socially, maintaining such infertility is treated as a disability.”

Annan glanced at him.

Ashe blinked. So if I’m not capable of getting an elf pregnant, that makes me disabled?

Annan went on, ”Bloodline dominance is also random. Take this couple, for example. Their child could be either a beastman or an elf. Over time, once-rare races like elves and sea witches have nearly caught up in population. They have an elf daughter, but she’s staying with her grandparents tonight.”

She studied the screen. ”Beastman-elf couples aren’t unusual. Same-species marriages are becoming rare.”

For the first time, Ashe grasped the true gap between the Gospel Kingdom and the Blood Moon Kingdom. The difference went beyond technology. Their societies stood on completely incompatible foundations.

Biological adjustment wasn’t just about breaking reproductive barriers. Just as the Blood Moon’s Bloodline Prohibition Law created a society of orphans, genetic adjustment laid the groundwork for full species-level integration.

The two systems moved in opposite directions. One preserved divisions, amplifying them to the point of individual isolation. The other completely shattered species barriers, blending all cultures into one and obliterating any hierarchy between species. If a human mother bore a sea witch child, could anyone still claim that humans were superior?

At that moment, the blonde minotaur on the screen said something. The beastman paused, then bound him instead of letting him go.

”What did he say?”

”He claimed to be from the Kylmo family. In simple terms, he’s saying he has influence. He’s offering points and money as compensation.”

Ashe scratched his ear. ”How do you know? There’s no audio.”

”I read his lips.”

”He’s facing away from us. How can you read them?”

”A little imagination is all it takes.”

”So you’re guessing.”

Before she could say more, the blonde minotaur provoked the beastman with words. A violent kick sent him crashing into the wall. He coughed up blood. The beastman rushed forward again with his fists falling in a relentless storm.

At first, Ashe had watched with mild amusement. Now the smile disappeared from his face.

He spoke quietly. ”Did you know this would happen?”

”Yes. The reason I had you drive off the beastman sorcerer was so he would come home and see his elf wife cheating.”

”But didn’t you just say couples today are always the most compatible? How could cheating still happen?”

”That depends on how you define ’most compatible,’” Annan replied, lightly touching her earring. ”Suppose there’s a playful female elf who loves to flirt. How would you choose a suitable partner for her?”

Ashe guessed, ”Another playful male? So they can just fool around separately?”

”Wrong. That pairing violates the fundamental principle of marriage: mutual benefit. Two equally playful people together can neither gain nor lose. They might as well be unmarried. And part of the enjoyment is the betrayal itself. If your partner doesn’t care about your cheating, the affair loses all meaning.”

Ashe stared at the projection screen, the smile fading from his face. ”So the best match for a playful elf would be a serious, capable male beastman?”

Annan nodded. ”Exactly. With an elf wife, the beastman sorcerer feels fulfilled and motivated at work. With a beastman husband, the elf enjoys care and security while still sneaking some excitement on the side. Both gain happiness. That’s a mutually beneficial, proper marriage.”

”But what if they get caught?” Ashe asked, pointing at the screen. ”Can it still be called a proper marriage if they’re cheating?”

Annan shifted her legs, straightened her back, and relaxed. She asked calmly, ”If we didn’t intervene, what do you think would happen? The beastman leaves for work at seven and returns at five. At that time, he sees a diligent elf cooking. By six, their elf daughter returns from middle school. The family eats together in harmony. Guided by the Book of Gospel, their lives continue happily, without incident to disrupt the family.”

The Book of Gospel!

A thought slowly dawned on Ashe. ”So the elf is consulting the Book of Gospel to hide her affair from her husband?”

”I’m glad you’re catching on,” Annan said with a faint smile. ”But not quite. If I’m correct, the elf learned counter-surveillance techniques in middle school and regularly uses the Book of Gospel to check for flaws. That ensures the beastman sorcerer remains unaware his entire life.”

”And does he never suspect? What if he asked the Book of Gospel?”

”Will you suspect your pillow could suddenly open its mouth and bite you?” Annan asked. ”Human thought is limited to perception. Add the beastman’s trusting nature, and if the lies are carefully woven, he will never escape the deception.”

”But doesn’t that make the Book of Gospel a tool for betrayal?” Ashe asked, shaking his head. ”No, pairing the beastman with the elf has been a mistake from the start!”

Annan countered, ”What mistake? The beastman gains a devoted wife, while the elf gains a caring husband. Compared to that, betrayal is a trivial matter.”

”Then what counts as major?”

”Being caught,” Annan said.

Ashe threw up his hands. ”That’s not fair! The beastman did nothing wrong! He shouldn’t have to suffer—”

Annan cut him off, ”The beastman isn’t entirely innocent either. He cares too much about his reputation. At work, he undermines talented subordinates and consults the Book of Gospel to protect his status. The losses his schemes cause may exceed the harm from his wife’s infidelity.”

Ashe frowned. He had a vague feeling that Annan was about to unleash a Miracle on him, something even more binding than a contract.

Annan went on, ”Everyone has private desires, their own stances, and ambitions to seize benefits from others. If people act purely on selfish impulses, most societal resources get wasted in internal conflicts.”

”So... is there a system that regulates everyone’s desires and ensures happiness for all?”

A book appeared in Annan’s hand, the corner of her mouth curving in a mix of disdain and resignation.

”With the guidance of the Book of Gospel, lifelong education, labor, and marriage weave a flawless social network. Within it, everyone pursues their own desires at the expense of others, while also unknowingly being affected by the actions of those around them. It doesn’t matter. The Book of Gospel conceals all harm, so no one knows they’re being hurt. The beastman sorcerer’s subordinates don’t realize they’ve been set up, and he doesn’t know his wife seeks pleasure while he studies.

”Just like the tightly ordered traffic on the ground and the well-organized drone routes in the sky, this massive network operates meticulously without flaw. Responsibility fills gaps, and lies smooth friction.”

Ashe sat frozen for a long moment before muttering, ”So by interrupting their routine... we’re actually doing something bad?”

”Listening to the Gospel brings happiness. By contrast, hearing our noise brings misfortune.”

At that moment, the beastman sorcerer landed a crushing punch, sending a few of the blonde minotaur’s teeth flying.

Ashe suddenly shouted, ”No, we have to go save him!”

”Weren’t you just enjoying the show a moment ago? Why the sudden urge to save—”

”I only want to save the beastman sorcerer! If this keeps up, someone could get seriously hurt. There’s no reason for the Red Hats to take him!”

”Relax. I’ve looked into him. Sure, he has a temper, but he’s never killed an animal since childhood. At work, he’s a production sorcerer. Even when angry, he usually holds himself in check.”

Ashe eased slightly, though a flicker of unease remained. ”Usually?”

Annan’s voice slowed, almost lazy. ”If someone makes him lose face... don’t be surprised if he snaps.”

A low hum filled the sky. Ashe looked up through the transparent roof and saw Red Hats’ sorcerers streaking across the air. Their boots spewed scorching blue flames, propelling them with terrifying speed.

Their warning roared through the heavens. ”Criminal in Room 3506 on the 35th floor of Holy Spirit Complex, stop what you’re doing immediately. Raise your hands and face the wall, or coercive measures will be taken. This is a warning! Holy Spirit Comp—”

Through the drone feed, Ashe saw the beastman sorcerer’s eyes flare almost red. Crap. The Red Hats’ arrival would escalate everything!

There had been a slim chance for him and the blonde minotaur to resolve things privately, but now the entire building knew something was happening in Room 3506.

Annan observed calmly. ”He really does value his pride.”

Boom!

The drone feed transmitted no sound, yet Ashe could vividly hear the noise of someone’s life shattering.