Sorcerer’s Handbook

At 9:00 AM Gospel Time, while handling official duties, Qenna felt the heraldry heating up right on schedule.

Since the Family Rebirth Dream was a privately funded dreamscape, each activation consumed a large amount of resources. Therefore, it was only open for 4 hours daily, from 8:00 PM to midnight.

Not everyone could rush into the dreamscape all at once; otherwise, the Senhaeser District would come to a standstill.

There were no restrictions on off-duty personnel; the heraldry would heat up precisely at 8:00 PM. However, those required for night duty had to enter the dreamscape in batches according to the plan, ensuring that each functional unit continued to operate normally. This arrangement was mandatory; if it wasn’t your designated time, your heraldry wouldn’t heat up. The rational distribution of time slots was, of course, managed by the great Gospel.

Unlike ordinary people’s longing for the Gospel, as a patriarch who frequently used it, Qenna had a profound understanding of its power and precision. Therefore, she had unwavering faith in the Art Ranking of the Weaving Festival.

According to her investigation, not only other families in Vamora but the entire Kingdom of Gospel had begun strategic stockpiling of materials. All forces were preparing to counter the impending unknown disaster.

Although Senhaeser was one-sixth of the city lords in Vamora, compared to the entire Gospel, it was just a small family; in the face of a disaster capable of destroying nations and cities, it was merely a tiny ant struggling to survive.

Qenna was very anxious. Fifty years was not a long time for her; she might very well witness the end of Senhaeser with her own eyes. But she couldn’t show any anxiety on the surface. She was the pillar of the family’s spirit and morale. Everyone else could fear, but she couldn’t show any sign of weakness.

This was also why she protected Annan and the others.

Sending Annan and Ashe out was merely an embellishment for the family, insignificant for the future grand scheme; but if Annan and the others could obtain the Divine Sovereign’s Wish, she would have the opportunity to offer help in a critical situation and reap gratitude.

The Pact was merely bait to keep Annan settled; now that they were all in Senhaeser, they had to enter the Family Dream tonight, which was Qenna’s crucial move.

Coercion and enticement were never the right path to expansion; only love and family could permanently turn others into family.

However, Annan had probably seen through her intentions from the beginning.

Qenna was dissatisfied with many aspects of her daughter, but when it came to cunning, they were evenly matched.

Even if Annan saw through her plans, she still had to step into the trap obediently. Qenna loved seeing her daughter’s face full of reluctance and defiance yet having to comply.

No one knew that Qenna had intentionally raised Annan this way: intelligent, cunning, and full of rebellion.

As a genius sorcerer, family patriarch, and Red Hat of the Sanctuary, Qenna hadn’t encountered a worthy opponent in a long time. She didn’t have many friends, and even if she did, none dared to confront her. Coupled with the long life of an Elf, Qenna had started feeling a bit bored.

So, she decided to create an opponent for herself, a playmate, an adversary—who better to cultivate than her own daughter?

After giving Annan enough childhood traumas, Qenna let her leave to inherit Dolan’s business, waiting for the day she would return to seek revenge. Whether Annan came back to claim the family business or destroy Senhaeser, Qenna looked forward to spending her later years in a battle of wits with her daughter.

Although it seemed like Qenna was coveting Dolan’s business, the truth was, for Senhaeser, Dolan’s secret legacy was just an embellishment and couldn’t elevate the family further. Seizing Dolan’s legacy was merely one of Qenna’s excuses to continue bullying Annan.

However, the Weaving Festival happened to predict an impending disaster, making Dolan’s legacy suddenly crucial… perhaps this was the reward for bullying her daughter.

But… shouldn’t Annan be getting married by now?

When Qenna first saw Lise, she thought it was Annan and Ashe’s child—after all, from the Art Ranking, it seemed Annan had painted a portrait of Ashe, and it looked like she had been forced by Ashe to do so. However, now Ashe was an employee under Annan’s Pact, a relationship that easily conjured up a ten-thousand-word narrative of twisted love and rebellion.

Though it seemed like nothing had sparked between them yet, Qenna had great faith in the Weaving Festival. If it hadn’t happened yet, it certainly would in the future.

If I send someone to lure Ashe away, would it further ignite Annan’s fighting spirit? It would be best to send someone Annan knows… Nona would be a good choice…

As Qenna pondered this, she sank into the Family Dream.

She didn’t linger at the starting point but went directly into an orange bubble, transforming into an Elf pastry chef and arriving at the pastry factory.

Many people speculated on what the patriarch did in the dream. Some guessed Qenna would go to the Battle Royale bubble, others thought she would enjoy being an interrogator, and some believed she would attend wild Carnival parties. No one would have guessed that Qenna liked making cakes and chocolates in the dream.

Actually, Qenna hadn’t planned it either. It was just that Annan used to love sweets, so Qenna would deliberately make desserts by hand. When little Annan came over wanting to eat, Qenna would set various impossible tasks for her. When little Annan failed and sat aside, craving the sweets to the point of tears, Qenna would slowly enjoy her desserts. This joy made the process of preparing desserts an interesting task in itself.

The pastry factory bubble was always an unpopular area in the dream, usually frequented by just a few clansmen with similar interests. So, when Qenna arrived tonight, she immediately noticed a new face she hadn’t seen before.

She glanced at the newcomer but then focused on her task. She intended to make a Black Forest cake tonight. She had made it for Annan before, but little Annan hadn’t completed the task Qenna set, so she had smeared the Black Forest cake on Annan’s face.

Smack!

Qenna paused as the newcomer sent a bowl of whipped cream flying.

Ignore him, ignore him…

Smack! Thud! Clang! Smack!

When he knocked over the cream bowl again, Qenna couldn’t stand it any longer. She walked over and asked, “Do you even know how to-“

Her reprimand was cut short.

In front of Qenna was a clumsy Elf boy who had fallen to the ground. He had a delicate appearance, a small and petite body that wasn’t thin, but soft and plush, as if a squeeze could produce milk. His milky white skin had a rosy hue like an apple, his thin lips slightly pursed, and his large eyes held golden irises that made it impossible to look away.

The pointed Elf ears trembled slightly, and a shy, silly smile hung on his face. His chef’s outfit was a dark red gradient, and he wore black over-the-knee socks, with just a small section of his snow-white thighs exposed, creating a striking black-and-white contrast.

Soft, collapsed cream covered his entire body, even a bit on his nose, but it didn’t look dirty at all. Instead, it seemed like a decorative touch on a Black Forest cake, an edible piece of art.

“Sorry, I’m not very good at making cakes…” He stared at the floor, his face as red as a beet: “Did I disturb you…”

“No worries.”

Qenna spoke in the gentlest tone she had ever used in her life. She helped the boy up, resisting the urge to hug him directly, and asked, slightly hurriedly, “What kind of cake do you want to make?”

“Red Velvet Cake.” The boy said, “My sister likes it. I want to learn how to make it in the dream so I can make it for her in reality.”

“Then I’ll teach you how to make it.” Qenna grabbed his hands without waiting for a response and pulled him into her arms: “First, I’ll teach you how to whip cream. By the way, what’s your name?”

“My name is Xiao Ya…”

Qenna’s heart skipped a beat, but seeing the earnest look on the boy’s face, she couldn’t resist wiping the cream off his nose and putting it in her mouth.

Upon entering the initial dream, Annan felt a bit dazed.

It had been over a decade since she last entered the dream. Back then, she was still a minor and could only stay in the designated single-child amusement park. If the Family Rebirth Dream was an ocean, she had at most picked up a few shells on the beach.

Banjeet’s words were not just a warning to the employees but also a reminder to her, the boss: don’t think that just because you’ve ridden the kindergarten bus, you can handle the adult university bus.

Although the Purple Moth was at odds with the butler, she wasn’t a rebellious little girl who wouldn’t listen to reason-her rebellion was solely against her mother. Therefore, she planned to stay in her personal dream and spend these few days obediently.

After all, dating was a job for the employees. Annan neither needed nor had the qualifications to compete for a place on the second ranking list. For someone like her, born and raised in the Gospel, the Gospel had long woven her future, leaving no room for any unknown “possibilities.”

But… what should I play?

In the Dream, thinking was a redundant physical effort. When Annan came to her senses, the Dream had already transformed into the children’s amusement park she was most familiar with.

In her childhood, this was the place she looked forward to the most because her mother couldn’t enter here. She could play as much as she wanted, eat cakes to her heart’s content, doodle freely, and curse without having to worry about Qenna’s reactions.

Annan found herself transformed into her six or seven-year-old self, wearing her fluffy purple princess dress.

She wasn’t particularly fond of purple herself, but Qenna hated the color. Anything Qenna disliked, Annan loved.

Before breaking free from Senhaeser, the only place she could wear purple clothes was in the Dream.

This was her Dream, where she couldn’t hide her deepest desires. Fortunately, no one knew what happened in the Dream, or she’d have no idea how to maintain her dignity if that group found out how childish she was.

Since there was no one else around…

Annan’s eyes sparkled as she lay on the ground, rolling like a log into the amusement park. She then dove into the sandbox to play with the sand, rode the carousel, swung on the swings, and slid down the slides…

So boring.

Though she had fond memories of her childhood, actually playing again felt dull. She had outgrown the age where everything was fascinating. Now, as a boring adult, playing with sand just didn’t excite her.

More importantly, playing alone was incredibly lonely.

As a child, she could play alone because she had her teddy bear friends, her little fox friends, and her kitten friends. But as an adult, all she had were teddy bear toys, little fox toys, and kitten toys.

If only I could find a friend…

Just as this thought crossed Annan’s mind, she heard a sliding sound from the nearby slide-someone had entered her Dream!

“Beautiful little princess, may I play with you?”

She turned her head and saw a young boy, not much older than her current age. He had short black hair, slightly longer than usual, with strands falling past his ears and nearly reaching his shoulders. His thin lips were pressed into a slight smile, and his bright blue eyes were filled with amusement. He wore a white suit with gold trim, a shining golden epaulet on his left shoulder, and spotless white athletic boots. He looked like a little prince straight out of a fairy tale.

Naturally, he took Annan’s small hand. “Princess, what’s your name?”

Annan’s rational mind screamed: The Family Dream is very dangerous… get him out of here… otherwise, you’ll get trapped… get him out now… you don’t need to complete the task… get him out!

“Xiao An.” She lowered her head, blushing. “And you?”

Rationality collapsed.

“Just call me Xiao Xiu,” the boy said with a smile. “We’ll become good friends.”

Annan’s heart skipped a beat, but she let the boy lead her to the seesaw, her entire being radiating with childlike glee.

Another failed mechanic.

Another raid wipe.

Another time being kicked out of the group.

Ashe logged out of the game, staying in the game pod for a moment of reflection before summoning the Gospel Book. “Gospel, is there something that can remind me of the next mechanic in real-time? Something that can help… um… a player like me get through the raid smoothly?”

“I’m not trying to be lazy, but memorizing mechanics is just repetitive physical labor. If I can save time, I should. My time is very precious, you understand?”

Gospel Book: “Your Grace, the Dabbler, you needn’t explain. For just 10 points, the Gospel will instantly install the latest Epic raid wheelchair.”

Hmm?

Ashe: “Why does my title have extra adjectives?”

Gospel Book: “Your Grace, the Fickle, this is the random nickname mechanism. Please don’t mind it. If you do mind, you can spend 50 points-“

“No, I don’t mind.”

Ashe understood now. It was like the fortune tellers in temples who start with, ‘Your forehead is dark, you’ll have a disaster soon,’ to entice customers into impulsive spending… No wonder the service was so good. They were waiting for this moment! Well, I won’t fall for it!

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