Sorcerer’s Handbook

Far away, the neon lights of skyscrapers melted into the false firmament’s starry sea. The incessant flow of traffic operated like the veins of the metropolis, while the never-sleeping street lighting knights below carved thick realms of light.

Brilliance and decadence collided; remnants of an unwilling-to-end old era disguised themselves as the future. Shadows wantonly sucked the desires emitted by the city. Each corner seemed like a monster waiting to devour, burying countless fallen souls made from alcohol and sugary smoke.

Ashe and Annan leaned against the windowsill, gazing at each other. Half of their bodies were bathed in the room’s lighting, while the other half was cloaked in the city’s darkness. Their eyes flickered, reflecting the ambiguous image of one another.

“Good thing Igor reminded me. You’re not thinking of extending our pact verbally, are you?” Ashe crossed his arms, signaling his refusal. “If I agreed, wouldn’t the slave pact, with a 101-day term, automatically renew forever?”

“No way.” Annan shook her head. “Although I have some authority within the Gospel, the pact’s term can only be extended to December 31, 2100.”

“That’s still over five hundred years!” Ashe retreated instinctively. “By then, the Gospel Kingdom might not even exist. Your descendants could find my grave in the Doomsday wasteland, shout ‘Ashe Heath, come forth as per the pact,’ and I’d have to crawl out of hell to continue serving the Dolan Family for centuries!”

“Impossible. No pact, no matter how powerful, can summon the dead.” Annan shook her head again. “Unless I get Harvey to perform necromancy on you, then Ashe, you could become an heirloom for the Dolan Family. Damn Igor, ruining my plans.”

“Bless Igor for saving us from a wicked woman. He delivered us from evil.”

Seeing Annan’s frustrated look, Ashe internally breathed a sigh of relief.

When Annan abruptly confessed ‘I’ll take care of you,’ although he couldn’t help but feel a bit delighted—actually, more than just a bit, but he only allowed himself to admit a little—rationality quickly returned, leaving him feeling rather uneasy.

His relationship with Annan was abnormal.

If it weren’t for Annan, he would have taken Lise and fled long ago. Even if Lise wanted him to rescue the princess in the Tower, he wouldn’t have risked it. It was Annan’s stubborn insistence on executing the plan to assassinate the princess that kept them in the underground city.

Or rather, from the very beginning, it was Annan who wanted to blaspheme the Gospel and deceive the Weaving Festival, which is why they were now like rats scurrying around the Gospel kingdom. Ashe only wanted to find a place where he could send a substitute to work, take care of Lise during the day, and venture into the Virtual Realm with the sword Princess and the Witch at night.

With “Aurora’s Sorcerer Handbook,” Ashe felt that becoming a legendary sorcerer was just a matter of time. There was no need to go on dangerous adventures; he could just bide his time.

However, he was still a slave under Annan’s domination. He couldn’t disobey any of her commands, so he had to follow her to the end. If Annan truly liked him, wouldn’t that be like falling in love with his kidnapper? That would be classic Stockholm Syndrome.

But in typical stories, it’s usually the kidnapped female protagonist who falls for the male lead. When it happens to him, it seems a bit reversed…

Thankfully, Annan is a bad woman. Thankfully, Annan is just a bad woman.

Ashe changed the subject. “By the way, I’ve already decided on my wish.”

“What is your wish?” Annan asked curiously. “To enhance your spirit substitute into an all-attributes-maxed super servant that can complete any task for you?”

“…That’s my secondary wish. If there’s any extra wish capacity, please help me with that, and also add the ability for me to freely set the appearance and gender of the substitute.” Although Ashe was tempted, he kept his promise to Lise. “My primary wish is to permanently cancel the ‘Ranking of the Unrelated.’”

“Huh?” Annan was stunned. “You want to cancel that Gospel ranking list?”

“That’s right.” Ashe nodded, already preparing a plausible reason in his mind.

However, Annan stayed silent for a moment and didn’t ask about the reason for his wish. She simply nodded. “As long as I obtain the Divine Sovereign’s Wish, I guarantee your wish will come true.”

Ashe breathed a sigh of relief; tonight’s mission was complete. He disclosed Banjeet’s situation to Annan, not only to prevent any tragedies due to such secrecy but also to use this favor to make Annan take his wish seriously—his little plan worked!

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He relaxed and jokingly asked, “So, what do you plan to do after the Weaving Festival is over? You’re not going to wish to become an angel and leave reality altogether, are you?”

“My wish won’t change my abilities in any way,” Annan shook her head. “If I’m lucky enough to obtain the Divine Sovereign’s Wish and safely get through the Weaving Festival…”

She paused for a moment, then suddenly laughed. “How silly, the Weaving Festival isn’t even over yet, what’s the point of thinking about the future now… We might die in the Royal Palace in just a few days.”

“Precisely because we might die in the Royal Palace, we need to think about our future now,” Ashe said seriously. “If we do die, at least we can live out the rest of our lives in our imagination. If we don’t die, then this fantasy will serve as a source of courage, and we might even create a miracle.” ṟ

“The ‘future’ is the greatest hope; once you have a future you want to go toward, nothing can stop you, not even mountains of blades or seas of fire.” He smiled. “In that sense, thinking about the rest of our lives is actually conducting our own Weaving Festival—crafting our future and then striving to achieve it.”

Annan was taken aback. “Weaving Festival…?”

She silently stroked her earring and suddenly asked, “Do you think the Weaving Festival is a good thing?”

“Hmm?” Ashe pondered for a moment. “Honestly, the Weaving Festival is something that can guide societal trends and even affect the development of spellcasting—judging it as good or bad might be oversimplifying it, like saying the sun is a good guy or a bad guy… But if I had to say, it should be a good thing.”

“Predicting a nation’s development, technological revolutions, key talents through the ranking list—all of this ensures that the Gospel will only develop faster and better, almost never regressing or stagnating. If it wasn’t for this Weaving Festival predicting a Doomsday disaster, I’d even believe I could see the future of the Gospel reaching for the stars and the sea.”

“But what about for the Echoers?” Annan asked. “Is it really good for them to know a predestined future in advance?”

“It depends on the situation. If the future aligns with what they hoped for, then it’s certainly a good thing; if it’s completely opposite to what they desire, then it can be quite distressing,” Ashe said, spreading his hands. “But life can never be perfect; even at a buffet, there are dishes that don’t taste good.”

“I don’t see it that way. Whether the future matches my expectations or not, I don’t think it’s a good thing,” Annan said. “For example, if the Weaving Festival told me that I would be with you forever, whether I like you or not, I would find it very uncomfortable.”

“If I didn’t like you, that’s one thing. But even if I did like you, I would think: does that mean I’m bound to be with you? I can’t leave, I can’t change, I can’t choose another path in life?”

“Being negated by the future is painful, but being affirmed by the future also brings pressure.” Annan looked at her hands. “In the end, why isn’t our future something that we can control?”

“You’ve been in the Gospel for quite a few days now. I’m actually curious about your thoughts on the Gospel,” Annan turned to Ashe. “As someone from an exotic land, do you think the Gospel is good? Did the Omniscient Weaver bring the Gospel down because of a deep love for humanity?”

Ashe remained silent for a while before responding with a question, “Do you know about the societal system of the Blood Moon Kingdom?”

“I do. There’s the Bloodline Prohibition Law, the Blood Moon Tribunal, the Blood Saints and Moonshadow, everyone grows up in orphanages, and biomechanical modifications run rampant,” Annan sighed. “It’s like a savage jungle disguised as civilization… I’m sorry if that sounds offensive.”

“No, you summed it up well. The Blood Moon Kingdom is essentially a carefully tended farm by the Blood Moon Sovereign,” Ashe said. “In my view, the essence of the Gospel and the Blood Moon Kingdom are the same.”

“Huh?” Annan was taken aback. “Although I criticize the Omniscient Weaver, isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“Although the social systems and cultural landscapes are vastly different, the foundation of both kingdoms stems from the Will of the Divine Sovereign,” Ashe said. “The Divine Sovereign established the rules, and so all beings can only live according to these rules. This rule could be the Bloodline Prohibition Law, or it could be the Gospel system.”

“The Divine Sovereign does not love or hate humanity. Even the Blood Moon Sovereign is the same. The Blood Saints and Moonshadow, although they are the ruling class, are not favored by the Blood Moon Sovereign but are established based on the Bloodline Prohibition Law. In a world where bloodlines are prohibited, only the selfish Long-lived Species can fully exploit their advantages, just like how flies thrive in a toilet. You can’t say that the toilet favors flies, can you? In any other kingdom, these few Long-lived Species would quickly be oppressed by the numerous Short-Lived Species to the point where they’d remain incognito.”

“So, you believe that the Divine Sovereign doesn’t care about humanity?” Annan murmured.

“No.” Ashe shook his head. “Although the Divine Sovereign neither loves nor hates humanity, they do care about people. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be the Blood Moon Kingdom and the Gospel Kingdom. But they care about all humanity, not just one or two individuals, not just one era, but everyone from the birth of the kingdom to the present.”

“If you ask me, hoping that the Divine Sovereign deeply loves humanity is a mistake. The current impartial and non-interfering attitude of the Divine Sovereign is the correct one.”

“Why?”

“Because love is a gift,” Ashe glanced at her. “Are humans qualified to respond to the Divine Sovereign’s love? They would just drown in it. Take Vamora, for example; the patriarch of the Six Heraldry loved his clansmen unconditionally, and as a result, they lived indulgently.”

“Not necessarily,” Annan interjected. “In some ancient myths, there are races favored by the Divine Sovereign who are born mastering spellcasting sects of the silver and even golden realms—”

“Do you remember when you told me about the ‘Gospel Sorcerer’ and the ‘Silent Sorcerer’?” Ashe smiled.

Annan paused, then understood Ashe’s point. Gospel Sorcerers are those who consult the Gospel for answers whenever they encounter difficulties in their spellcasting sect, while Silent Sorcerers rely on themselves to overcome challenges in their traditional spellcasting sect without ever asking the Gospel for help.

In the Gospel Kingdom, ‘Gospel Sorcerers’ are predominant among One-Winged Sorcerers, but among Two-Winged Sorcerers, 70% are ‘Silent Sorcerers,’ and all Sanctuary Sorcerers are ‘Silent Sorcerers.’

“The Divine Sovereign’s love for a clan will only lead to the clan’s downfall in the evaluation system for sorcerers,” Ashe said. “Because spellcasting is not gold, resources, or production materials that can grow automatically. It is knowledge that requires a lifetime of study and pursuit. If the Divine Sovereign helps sorcerers within their spellcasting sects, it actually reduces their potential and corrodes their knowledge base.”

“In this regard, the Omniscient Weaver is actually overly ‘indulgent’ towards you all. Do you think the Omniscient Weaver’s approach is correct or wrong? Conversely, if you look at the Bloodline Prohibition Law, don’t you think the Blood Moon Sovereign is trying to create a high-intensity competitive environment where everyone is equal, allowing people to go further in their journey as sorcerers? Do you consider the Blood Moon Sovereign’s approach correct or wrong?”

Ashe paused. “Of course, this is only in the evaluation system for sorcerers. If we’re talking about resident happiness, the Blood Moon Sovereign isn’t even worthy of licking the Omniscient Weaver’s toes—”

Annan immediately covered Ashe’s mouth and hushed him. “Don’t speak ill of the Divine Sovereign.”

Ashe nodded and continued, “So, it’s not that the Divine Sovereign loves humanity deeply, but rather humanity loves the Divine Sovereign. People project their own feelings onto the Divine Sovereign, which makes them believe that the Divine Sovereign loves them.”

“When you ask if the Omniscient Weaver loves humanity, what you’re really questioning is not His attitude but whether He is right or wrong.” He smiled. “You simply feel that He was wrong, so you no longer love Him, and thus you believe that He doesn’t love humanity.”

Annan stared blankly at Ashe and suddenly said, “You really are a Cult Leader. I thought Igor was just blackening your name on purpose.”

“You’re not wrong; he does it on purpose,” Ashe replied irritably. “In what way do I resemble a Cult Leader?”

“In every way.”

“Give me an example! Future Ranking examples don’t count!”

“There’s a perfect example right in front of you,” Annan joked. “I’ve been successfully brainwashed by you.”

She touched her earring. “I will weave the rest of my life well.”

“I should go back now.”

“I’ll see you out.”

Annan walked Ashe to the door and reached out to grip the door handle but did not push it open.

Ashe waited for a moment and then asked curiously, “What’s wrong? Can’t open it?”

“Ashe, do you hate me?”

Ashe was taken aback.

“You probably do hate me,” the Purple Moth said softly to the door without turning around. “If I hadn’t captured you before the virtual realm passage, if Cleos and I hadn’t forced you, you would’ve never been caught up in the Whirlpool of the Weaving Festival. You might even have settled down in Azura by now, living a peaceful and happy life.”

“Although I’ve always said I treated you all equally, that was just self-satisfying arrogance. You’re all bound by the Pact, so we can never truly be equal in status, let alone the fact that I’ve asked you to partake in this nearly suicidal mission. Harvey is probably already planning how to retaliate against me once this is over.”

“I may have my justifications, but what have they got to do with you? A Purple Moth destined to plunge into the fire yet dragging you all along in the flames.”

“Your first reaction was ‘Is Annan trying to trick me again?’ and yes, I deserve that.”

“But.”

Annan turned to look at Ashe, the green of her eyes shimmering with Flow.

“In a few days, the first half of my life will be over,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “We might all die.”

It was then that Ashe realized she was afraid.

Or to put it more accurately, who among the Funerals wasn’t afraid except for Harvey? Igor never showed his fear and had gone through too many life-and-death adventures to be shaken; Lise completely trusted Ashe, using that trust to mask her fear; and Ashe himself…

He’d been thinking about his life after the Weaving Festival these past few days, using hope to fight fear, Lise to counter fear, and Igor to shield against fear.

Annan was different from them, the escaped convicts. Her previous adventures had always had Banjeet as a safety net, and in her work, she’d relied on the Gospel’s godlike perspective. This Blasphemy Gospel plan was the riskiest action of her life; assassinating the Princess was an all-in gamble she had never experienced before.

But she couldn’t show any fear in front of everyone else; it was her responsibility as a leader.

Only now did she shed all her disguises and reveal the vulnerability of a female boss.

“My question earlier is also my answer after weaving,” the Purple Moth looked intently at the Cult Leader. “I’ll ask you again.”

“Are you willing to weave the future with me?”

This time, it wasn’t a joke.

She was serious.

There was no way to dodge it now.

Ashe looked at her beautiful, expectant face, filled with a mix of daring and shyness, and for a moment, he was lost.

To be honest, he couldn’t think of a reason to refuse. Although Annan wasn’t as wealthy as someone like Yvaren, she was far better off than Ashe, who was prepared to sleep in a cardboard box under a bridge. Annan, living in a large apartment, was already rich enough to meet his daily needs.

Not to mention, Ashe also had Lise, who was a bit of a burden. Only Igor and Annan were willing to support them. Actually, Ashe had casually mentioned to Igor that once Lise’s life stabilized, he would find a way to make some money. He couldn’t possibly always rely on Igor.

But Annan’s promise came with no strings attached and even with after-sales service! Since he was already putting himself out there, Ashe could comfortably call his wealthy benefactor “rich lady”!

So, did he like Annan? First, Annan was a ranked individual in the Azura Beauty Ranking; and her looks and figure are not something a zero-star loser like Ashe can compare to. Secondly, he felt relaxed around her, as if they were childhood friends; there was no barrier between them.

Yes, he did like her, and married life would surely be happy.

However, however.

Ashe closed his eyes, and images of many people flashed through his mind—parents, siblings, a Bewitcher, and a redhead…

He opened his eyes and looked at her seriously. The Purple Moth saw the Flowing tenderness in his eyes and immediately understood.

“I…”

“Wait, I want to paint a portrait of you.”