The Sorcerer's Handbook

Ashe had no idea the Substitute’s working conditions had taken a sudden turn for the worse. At the moment, he had something far more urgent to deal with.

After easing his mental burden with Iger, the cult leader quickly pivoted to his most pressing priority, pulling cards.

He needed to draw a soul-healing item immediately. Without one, he couldn’t enter the Virtual World to fulfill his contract with the Hero Commander, and his operators’ progression would stall. He didn’t have enough points to trigger a first-purchase double bonus, but this wasn’t the time to worry about maximizing profits. If he refused to spend when it mattered, there would be no way to clear the sudden event that was the Empress’s Challenge.

In the past, whenever he needed to spend, Ashe would usually drag Iger along as a ”luck sacrifice” to boost his odds. But now, he had a better option—the Book of Gospel.

Gambling technically didn’t exist in the Gospel Kingdom. Under the Book’s watchful eye, all gambling effectively turned into giving money away. Those who lived by the Gospel were like students raised on a strict materialist education. They didn’t believe in something as superstitious as luck. The only difference was that while the latter believed in human potential, the former believed in the inevitability of the Gospel.

Originally, Ashe had worried about his lack of Gospel Points. To his surprise, just as he was beginning to feel the pressure, he had received the equivalent of the Lady’s lap pillow—five hundred Gospel Points, arriving like a timely rain.

Back in his room, Ashe lay on the bed and summoned the Book of Gospel. ”Gospel, Gospel, how can I increase my chances of winning the search draw in Aurora’s Sorcerer Handbook?”

The Book of Gospel replied instantly.

[Honored Ashe Heath, Your Excellency, I am unable to understand your request.]

Huh? Since when has the Book of Gospel gotten this polite?

Ashe didn’t use it often, so he wasn’t familiar with its customer service attitude. Still, he clearly remembered it hadn’t spoken like this the last time. Is it because I have five hundred points now? Did the Book change its attitude the moment it smelled money? So even a magical book understands tiered service and how to feed a customer’s sense of superiority.

He repeated his question. This time, the Book of Gospel answered with some difficulty.

[Your Excellency, I cannot identify the term Aurora’s Sorcerer Handbook in your request. However, based on your description, may I interpret that you wish to obtain specific items from a randomized draw?]

”That’s right.”

[In that case, I propose two modest proposals. First, increase your luck; second, amplify your intent.]

Ashe frowned slightly. ”I understand increasing luck. What do you mean by amplifying intent?”

[Intent is a sorcerer’s greatest power. This intent does not refer to the mind mentioned in the Mind Class, but rather the totality of a sorcerer’s will, beliefs, and soul. The most powerful sorcerers do not need to deliberately activate their spirits. Mana serves only as support. True Miracles occur when the spirits themselves respond to the sorcerer’s intent, coordinating and leaping forward as one.]

[When a sorcerer engages in any random draw, they are using their intent to interfere with the draw mechanism. If the intent is strong enough, it is possible for the mechanism itself to deliver the item they require.]

Ashe raised an eyebrow. So while the book couldn’t directly change the outcome, it could amplify my will to ”force” the result?

It sounded unscientific, yet somehow reasonable. Like a true duelist who shared a bond with their deck. At the crucial moment, the card you needed simply appeared.

”How much does it cost to increase luck, and how much to amplify intent?” Ashe asked.

[Your Excellency, the cost of increasing luck depends on your payment. It ranges from 100 to 1,000,000,000 points. The highest-tier service grants a state where your every wish comes true.]

[Amplifying intent requires only 150 points. Since intent is closely tied to the sorcerer, the Gospel can only amplify what is already there. The final effect depends entirely on the strength of your own intent.]

”Then how do I strengthen my intent?”

[Your Excellency, that answer requires 10 points.]

Ashe clicked his tongue. ”I have to pay just to hear the instructions?”

[My apologies, Your Excellency. Your feedback has been submitted.]

Despite his grumbling, Ashe paid. The Book of Gospel responded promptly.

[Intent is closely tied to emotion. When your emotions surge, your intent reaches its peak. Furthermore, your emotions should relate specifically to the item you desire. In doing so, your intent gains a powerful sense of direction.]

Emotion, intent, and the desired item.

Without a doubt, the item Ashe wanted most right now was the Pure Radiance Tonics. He still had one bottle left in storage from the previous draw. It was the only soul-healing item he knew. This time, he had to draw several more, then use the Alchemist’s Refining Flask to synthesize a stronger, higher-grade potion. Otherwise, they wouldn’t recover from their soul injuries within a few days.

But how am I supposed to stir up that kind of emotion on command?

Ashe pictured their impending failure, how they would miss their window to enter the Virtual World, how the Hero Commander would dock their ”perfect attendance” marks and confiscate their Conjuring spirit.

As the stress of a failing student bubbled up, a faint ripple of genuine emotion finally surfaced.

Ashe pushed his imagination further. He pictured the entire squad being apprehended by the Hero Commander, buried beneath a tide of beasts until not even a corpse remained.

It felt too distant, too unreal. It stirred only the faintest ripple of emotion.

Then, Ashe conjured a different nightmare. He escaped capture, but both his operators died in the chaos. From that day on, he would have to work alone, with no operators left to exploit, just himself clocking in every day.

The surge hit. There it is! Genuine, raw emotion!

Ashe gritted his teeth. ”I can’t take this anymore! Gospel, amplify my intent!”

The Book of Gospel responded instantly.

[There is no need for ”please,” Your Excellency. Intent amplification will last ten seconds and cost 150 Gospel Points. Please prepare yourself.]

Ashe threw open his Sorcerer’s Handbook and dove straight into Material Purchase. He had 238 points, just enough to buy the Bag of Source Crystals for 198. The first-purchase bonus was long gone, leaving him with a mere 40 crystals. Combined with the 14 he already held, he had 54, which was exactly enough for eighteen pulls.

He didn’t dare gamble it all at once. He would start with a ten-pull. The thought of being forced to spend his points without a bonus, and on such short notice, only stoked his fury.

”I’m ready! Do it now!”

[Your faithful Gospel will now amplify your intent. Countdown: 3... 2... 1... You have entered the amplified state. Remaining duration: 10 seconds.]

Ashe’s fingers blurred across the Operator Recruitment interface. He slammed the event-exclusive banner, Dance of Swords and Dragons, and committed to a Ten-Pull without a second thought.

Ten streaks of brilliant purple light tore across the screen.

[Pure Radiance Tonic x9]

[Energy Potion x1]

Ashe froze. By the time he regained his senses, the ten seconds had already lapsed.

The Book of Gospel chimed in.

[Your Excellency, you have exited the amplified state. Are you satisfied with this service?]

Ashe sniffed, his eyes welling with tears of genuine moved emotion. ”Satisfied. I’m more than satisfied!”

No wonder everyone prefers to live within the web woven by the Gospel. Is this the joy it promised? It’s far too much joy for one man. A person should value their dignity, certainly, but when cheating the system becomes this easy, dignity feels like a small price to pay!

And so, a beautiful day began with listening to the Gospel.

***

Meanwhile, the Necromancer was also consulting the Book.

Harvey had designed two advanced modification paths for Alice but remained paralyzed by indecision. In the old days, he would have gathered a pile of corpses, performed necromantic surgery on all of them, and kept whichever survived the ”new working environment.” That wasn’t an option anymore. He couldn’t recruit new ”employees,” so he had to meticulously cultivate his one remaining core asset.

Harvey asked, ”Between these two plans, which suits Alice better?”

The Book of Gospel pulsed.

[Inquiry Cost: 50 Gospel Points.]

Harvey hesitated, then tried to break the question apart, hoping to find a discount. ”Is Alice suited for the Wraith Modification Plan?”

[Is Alice suited for the Wraith Modification Plan?]

Cost: 25 points

Response: Not Suitable.

He persisted. ”Is Alice suited for the Ghoul Modification Plan?”

[Is Alice suited for the Ghoul Modification Plan?]

Cost: 25 points

Response: Not Suitable.

A faint warmth stirred in the Necromancer’s nearly frozen heart. Neither was suitable, yet the Book had still drained him of fifty points? He lit a Catgrass cigarette to steady his nerves before continuing. ”How, then, should Alice be strengthened?”

[Inquiry Cost: 100 Gospel points.]

Harvey already had a few theories, but the previous lesson had taught him to pay up obediently. He watched his points vanish, and the Book finally answered.

[Based on your current resources, you should apply Ghoul enhancements to the subject’s limbs and Wraith enhancements to the torso.]

Heat rose in Harvey’s chest. His heart felt as though it had spontaneously combusted.

Isn’t this just a combination of the two plans I’ve already devised? Why say neither was suitable? One extra sentence, ”ghoul for limbs, wraith for the body,” and everything would have been clear! Why drain my points dry in such a roundabout, bureaucratic fashion?

And so, a beautiful day ended with listening to the Gospel.