Sorcerer’s Handbook

The sky had turned into a sea of fire, the earth brimmed with murky darkness. Massive fragments tore through the burning clouds one after another, plummeting toward the tainted land. Every minute, every second, the world twisted and crumbled.

In this apocalyptic scene, a mysterious figure in a dark red gradient overcoat stood on a cliff, gazing at a meteor shower in the distance. Right hand holding a wine glass, it seemed as if this spectacle was worth celebrating with a drink.

Who was he?

What had happened?

Why had it come to this?

Suddenly, a red-haired woman emerged from the fiery sky. Dressed in a black miniskirt, her eyes appeared to encapsulate a sea of blood, and in her hand, she wielded an exquisitely carved longsword. As she stepped forward, the sky split in two from the sharpness of her sword’s aura. Merely gazing upon her figure was enough to make one’s eyes sting!

At that moment, the mysterious person seemed to sense the gaze from behind. He slightly turned his head, almost revealing his true face.

Igor strained to open his non-existent eyes, trying to capture any detail of this enigmatic figure—

“Cough, cough, cough!”

Ashe looked confused, holding up a water bottle, “I was giving you water. What, did you think I was trying to drown you by stuffing your head in the toilet? I’d like to, but alas, the toilet doesn’t have a single drop of water. If you don’t want it, fine. Harvey, do you?”

“I don’t want to use the restroom here.” Harvey’s voice was faint. He sat against the wall, his dark complexion unable to hide his feebleness.

Ashe thought for a moment, then screwed the cap back on the bottle and set it aside, “Better save it then, who knows, maybe they’ll bring food later…”

It was then that Igor finally had the chance to assess their situation: the three of them were in a small room, about ten square meters, with padded floors and walls. Lighting seeped through gaps in the walls, and in the corner was an all-in-one toilet with a sink.

The room had no windows. Only in the corner of the ceiling was there a vent from which warm white mist was slowly being expelled, quickly blending into the room’s atmosphere.

He checked his equipment: the small knife, defensive gun, and multi-tool keychain were all gone. However, his metal headgear was still intact—it could be straightened into a metal spike, offering some protection. But its effectiveness was highly situational: it required the enemy to have their guard down and be stripped of any protective gear.

In essence, it could only be lethal if the enemy was caught off guard while in bed or using the bathroom.

Igor attempted to stand up to block the vent, but found himself completely drained of strength. He couldn’t even stand, collapsing right in front of Ashe.

“It’s an anesthetic healing spray,” Ashe said languidly. “Haven’t you noticed our speech is weak?”

“Your voice always sounds like you’re constipated. How could I tell the difference?” Igor retorted, lifting his sleeve to discover that the wound from a sniper bullet had begun to scab over. He was mildly surprised—while it wasn’t as effective as a healer’s touch, the treatment was significantly better than standard first aid.

“Do you guys know the date and time?” he abruptly asked.

Ashe replied, “It’s 1 AM on May 2nd—we’ve probably slept for less than an hour. But time zones might differ between kingdoms, so it might not actually be 1 AM outside.”

Igor didn’t ask how Ashe knew the time without a chip or a watch. Instead, he pressed his hand against the floor, feeling a slight vibration: “We’re on a moving vehicle, likely a car, though I’ve never seen one with such impressive soundproofing and shock absorption…”

He tapped the collar around his neck, “Have you guys tested this thing?”

“Any attempt to use arcane energy triggers a strong electric shock,” Harvey responded indifferently. “If you want to test it, I suggest you take off your pants and sit on the toilet. But feel free to test it directly; the padding absorbs well, so any… accidents you have will clean up quickly.”

Igor gave Harvey and Ashe a quizzical look, “Considering you’ve volunteered this information, I won’t ask how you discovered it… Got any other intel?”

After a moment of silence, Ashe said, “Before losing consciousness, I heard someone say ‘I could only pick up three People from the Exotic Lands’… This ambush was not meant for Adventurers—it was meant for us, and they even knew Ronald and Langna wouldn’t come.”

“A Miracle of the Prophecy Faction or the Destiny Faction,” Igor said, unsurprised. “What happened to the Werewolf and his prey?”

“Ronald died trying to save Langna,” Ashe said succinctly. “I didn’t see what happened after that.”

However, Igor raised his eyebrows slightly and gave a soft “Oh,” his expression lacking any surprise.

Suddenly, Ashe had a strong intuition and asked, “Did you know beforehand that Ronald would do this?”

“To be precise, I’m the one who taught him to do it,” Igor said with a smile. “After all, I did feel some sympathy for him, so I planned to secretly collude with him, thinking we’d gang up on Langna after our escape from prison. But he wasn’t interested in that; he wanted ‘true revenge,’ and I just happened to have some information on Langna, so I shared with him the real method of revenge.”

“You deceived him?”

“I never lie,” Igor said. “I just fulfill others’ wishes.”

“How funny, is another name for a Con Artist ‘God’?”

The Cult Leader and the Con Artist exchanged cold glances, and then the Necromancer suddenly said, “Even if Ronald and Langna didn’t come, why didn’t the other Adventurers show up? The Hunting Festival wouldn’t stop because of us, on the contrary, the Adventurers should have had an added bounty task to capture us.”

Ashe spread his hands and said, “You didn’t see what we did to scare the other Adventurers… Maybe they’re all huddled in the Warzone now, waiting for Gerard to give them a written guarantee not to capture them before they dare to continue participating in the Hunting Festival. With this delay, if they can work normally by tomorrow night, that would be efficient.”

“Or perhaps the Virtual Realm Passage has been blocked,” Igor guessed. “Since they could predict our arrival with such precision, maybe they were also prepared to block the Virtual Realm Passage.”

Harvey sighed softly and said, “Does that mean we can’t count on the Adventurers to save us…”

At that moment, the three of them were simultaneously struck by a whirlwind of complex emotions—they had gone through great lengths to escape the Blood Moon Kingdom, successfully scaring away Adventurers, deceiving Gerard, and finally crossing the Virtual Realm Passage to arrive in a new world. Yet before they could take a breath of freedom, they were bafflingly captured.

Ironically, their greatest hope for getting out of this bind was the very pursuers from the Blood Moon Kingdom.

Igor shook his head, casting aside any budding regrets and resentments, and turned to Ashe, “What about your Slay Me Miracle?”

“I’ve tried it,” Ashe said. “But it’s an external object, akin to a Sorcerer continuously casting spells. The Slay Me Miracle can clear my negative status at the moment, but as long as I’m wearing the Collar, the binding status will be reapplied the next second… The Collar must be physically removed.”

“I feel like a tool that could electrocute us at any moment might not take too kindly to being forcibly cracked open,” Harvey said, tugging slightly at the Collar, which immediately emitted a dangerous red glow.

“Restraining Collars, anti-suicide padded wagons, anesthetic treatment sprays…” Igor muttered, “It’s not surprising that we were ambushed and captured, what’s surprising is that they have such a professional set of transport equipment—if they didn’t prepare this gear especially for us, it means their usual clients also need to stay in such places.”

“Who would need to be transported with this kind of equipment?”

“Death row inmates, lunatics, slaves?” Ashe guessed.

“Corpses could be a possibility too,” Harvey said.

“Don’t scare me, isn’t the standard transport for corpses a Body Bag?”

“Ashe, as a Cult Leader, don’t you understand? A fresh corpse has its unique value, especially the residual warmth, which is like the last echo of life. Watching a body with warmth gradually turn into a meaningless lump of flesh, that profound sense of witnessing—I’m sure you can appreciate that, right?”

“Who would understand such a thing!”

Listening to the two of them engage in endless banter, Igor, in a poor mental state, subconsciously wanted to interrupt them, but he quickly realized that something was off—their complexions were as bad as a made-up Orc dancer’s, neither fully awake nor able to sleep.

The anesthetic treatment spray, in addition to causing them to be weak and anesthetized, seemed to also have an anti-sleep effect, suppressing their physiological state as much as possible while keeping them in a state of insomnia.

Compared to direct hypnosis, this state of tired wakefulness is more suitable for dealing with Sorcerer prisoners. It can exhaust the Sorcerer’s Mental Power, and over time, even prevent them from maintaining normal cognitive abilities. If an Interrogation is needed, prisoners in this state are more likely to divulge information. Igor had learned this from reading Mind Faction literature on Interrogation.

Ashe and Harvey might not understand this principle, but upon realizing they could not sleep, they subconsciously engaged in intense conversation to keep their minds active and maintain their condition as much as possible.

Igor quickly gathered his thoughts and carefully considered their current situation.

Actually, their circumstances were not too bad. After all, if they had been ambushed by an army from another Kingdom, they would now either be forced to have their memories extracted or become the kind of warm Corpse that Harvey favored—the point was not that Igor judged other Kingdoms by the standards of the Blood Moon, but rather that the principle ‘the heart of a stranger is different from ours’ was a common understanding.

Although they did not know who had used a Prophecy Miracle to accurately predict their appearance, it at least proved they were of value, perhaps as research material or as Slaves. In any case, there was hope for survival.

If this Kingdom also favored civilization over barbarism, where societal rules could bind the powerful, then Igor even had confidence that he could achieve something here. For a Mind Sorcerer, rules and human nature are the strongest weapons.

Thinking of the Prophecy Faction, Igor involuntarily recalled his recent dream. It was the result of a Revelation spirit acting in his dreams, a rare phenomenon that Igor could not fathom.

He had also triggered dreams of Revelation before, but most were meaningless images.

The only time it proved effective was after first encountering Emma in the “Revelation of Gamble”, when Igor suddenly dreamed of Shattered Lake Prison. He didn’t pay much attention to this Revelation at the time, but looking back, it might have been a harbinger of his imprisonment.

But the images in the dream were too exaggerated… Had the world come to an end?

Igor wasn’t questioning the ‘end of the world’ scenario itself; he was questioning his own credibility—a ‘blind man’ from the Prophecy Faction who hadn’t even reached the Silver Realm, how could he be privy to such a distant and grand future?

Even the legendary Prophet with quadruple wings might not be able to predict the fate of the world, right?

And who was that mysterious person observing the world’s end?

Perhaps the Revelation spirit had also inhaled the anesthetic spray and was showing him scenes from the past…

Meanwhile, Ashe and Harvey’s idle chatter came to a halt. Although they wanted to combat their gloomy mental state, it seemed like the secretion of dopamine had been suppressed. The more they talked, the more exhausted they felt, and they just wanted to stop talking.

No, they needed to find something stimulating to do.

As Ashe thought this to himself, the familiar game interface appeared before his eyes, with the current time displayed in the top right corner.

Time for a card draw.

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