Sorcerer’s Handbook

Deep, oppressive, and dark, the space seemed to compress more and more, while the sound of heartbeats grew louder, as if eager to tear open the chest and breathe the murky air.

The group from the Funeral Firm descended the abandoned stairwell step by step, like a troop of Lala Fatties willingly running into the mouth of an Ogre.

Each of them had switched on the shoulder lights of their protective suits, even Lise, who was clinging to Ashe’s back, had turned hers on. However, the beams of light couldn’t penetrate the seal of darkness, limiting visibility to barely five steps. Beyond that, the darkness was as active as jelly.

“Ah!”

Everyone jumped and turned to look at Ashe and Lise at the back. Lise stammered, “I-I just felt a breeze go into my clothes and it tickled my neck…”

Lise was, after all, just a child, and the environment here was intense enough to test even an adult’s nerves. Her jumpiness was quite normal, so everyone just mumbled a few words of comfort and continued their descent.

But soon, another blood-curdling scream echoed.

“Ah!”

The group scattered instantly. Igor stared at the screaming Ashe and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”

“I-I-I feel something heavy on my back!” Ashe trembled, each word shaking out like a shadow. “Is there a corpse riding on my back?”

The tense atmosphere broke instantly. Annan reverted the Second Miss back into an earring, Banjeet put down his icy double guns, and Harvey, who was carrying a coffin, shrugged and said, “Ashe, corpses don’t just climb onto your back. You’d at least have to prepare a coffin for them.”

“Dad! Dad!” Lise tightened her grip around Ashe’s neck, exclaiming angrily, “It’s me behind you! And Lise isn’t heavy at all! Stupid Dad!”

“Let go, let go, I’m suffocating…”

Igor said coolly, “I didn’t expect you, Ashe, to learn how to be sarcastic and complain indirectly. I’ll give you a 90 for that performance. By the way, Lise, do you still need Ashe to carry you?”

Earlier in the car, Lise had been clinging to Ashe, and because the roads in Forest Park were in such poor condition, letting Lise walk on her own would have significantly slowed down the group. Thus, Lise had insisted on being carried by Ashe.

Lise’s eyes darted around. “It’s so dark here, and I’m so small. You might turn around and lose me, so it’s better if Dad carries me.”

Igor chuckled. “Oh, losing you would be a blessing?”

Ashe gave Lise a firm pat on the butt, causing her to loosen her grip. Panting, he said, “Then let Aunt Bukin carry you. He’s got a soft body, smooth skin, and a nice fragrance. You’d be much more comfortable with him. If not, you could ask the beautiful and mature Second Miss to carry you. I should be your third choice at best.”

Annan gave Ashe a peculiar look. “Why am I only the second choice? Is Igor that much better than me?”

“Second Miss, we ordinary humans shouldn’t compare ourselves to Bewitchers.”

“I’ve said it before, the Bewitcher lineage is only female. I just have a bit of Bewitcher blood!” Igor retorted through gritted teeth. However, he glanced at Lise and suddenly showed a gentle, kind smile, opening his arms. “Fine, since Ashe is begging, I’ll carry Lise.”

Seeing Igor’s smile, Lise felt goosebumps rise all over her body, a chill running up her spine.

The malice beneath that smile was so clear that the Little Witch felt the Con Artist’s every hair bending at an angle that threatened to squeeze the life out of her. She clung to Ashe like a facehugger. “No, no, no, no, I-I only want Dad.”

This time, she wasn’t joking. As the sister most adept at sensing the goodness or evil in people, the Little Witch had a strong premonition—if she ended up in Aunt Bukin’s hands, he would find a way to kill her!

He wouldn’t even need to get his hands on her; if she was alone, he would definitely find a way to ditch her!

Only by holding onto Dad could she ensure a slim chance of survival!

“Um,” Harvey raised his hand, offering a very considerate suggestion, “there’s still some space in the coffin. Alice wouldn’t mind sharing it with Lise.”

Amidst the banter, the Funeral Firm successfully reached the end of the passage. What greeted them wasn’t a blood-soaked lair filled with corpses, nor was it Harvey’s Happy Cave of a thousand graves. If anything, it resembled a dilapidated park square.

A very lively park square at that.

Little girls were playing on slides, kids were chasing each other, a handsome and elegant man was strutting around, a beautiful and serene young woman was reading on a bench, a cute boy with a passion for gunmanship was disassembling a handgun, and a diligent young girl was practicing her swordsmanship. More than anything, there were many idle, lazy beauties lying on the grass. Despite being dozens of meters underground, the scene was as if bathed in sunlight, creating an atmosphere of peaceful times.

Ashe suddenly recalled a saying: “As long as your heart has the sea, everywhere is a beach.”

This phrase fit perfectly here. Though light couldn’t penetrate through the dozens of meters of earth, these ‘people’ were emitting light themselves, illuminating the entire underground space as brightly as day.

“These are…” Igor muttered.

“These are Beauty Houttuynia,” Annan pointed at the lifelike glowing figures on the street. “Harvey, the catnip cigarettes you smoke are extracted from these.”

“Second Miss,” Harvey tapped on his mask, “I’m wearing a mask right now, so I can’t smoke. Please don’t tempt me like that.”

Even the well-traveled Purple Moth was momentarily speechless at the necromancer’s response. She suddenly realized that in this era, there was no ultimate evolutionary creature that could match Harvey’s unique taste.

Ashe walked up to the nearest ‘girl’ and examined her closely. Upon closer inspection, he could see the texture of plant fibers in her skin, which made it even more terrifying—every expression and movement of the ‘girl’ was so real and natural, completely unlike the forced resemblance of a ‘ginseng fruit.’ It was as if a real girl had turned into a plant person, sending chills down his spine.

Ashe even had the eerie feeling that the ‘girl’ might come to life and strangle him. His throat felt constricted, making it hard to breathe…

Continuing from Chapter 360 – Igor’s Malice

“Stop choking me when you’re scared!” Ashe snapped, giving Lise a pat on the back. The little spirit trembled. “I’m scared too!”

However, Harvey, who had been so enthusiastic moments ago, now wore a disgusted expression after observing for a bit. He reached out and slapped the nearest ‘beauty,’ scattering her into a pile of leaves.

“Ugh,” he said with revulsion. “This is just too disgusting.”

Hearing such a sentiment from a necromancer was quite surprising. Ashe couldn’t help but ask, “Harvey, are you actually picky?”

Igor gazed at the seemingly endless square in the distance. The bustling yet eerily silent ‘crowd’ filled the Con Artist with a deep sense of dread.

“Did the Six Heraldry turn their dead clansmen into Beauty Houttuynia?” Although phrased as a question, Igor’s tone was declarative.

“Now I’m really curious about your thoughts on this place, Mr. Harvey,” Annan said. “I only know the general situation of this farm, but not the specifics. I thought you would like it here, but your reaction is quite unexpected.”

“This place insults life, desecrates corpses, and twists souls,” Harvey said, enunciating each word carefully.

Hearing such words from Harvey left Ashe and Igor exchanging grim looks.

Ashe suddenly said, “My ideal is to create a Miracle that would take care of me. My top three dislikes are work, society, and exercise.”

Igor chimed in, “I like fools, dislike smart people, and my dream is to travel and explore with endless wealth.”

Lise joined in the fun, “I like my dad and sister who are nice to me, and I hate bad people who aren’t. My dream is to grow up quickly.”

Annan gave them a puzzled look, not understanding why they were suddenly introducing themselves. Banjeet, however, realized what was happening and couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, it seems our mental states are all normal, and our personalities haven’t drastically changed,” Ashe mused. “Which means the mental attacks here only target the person with the darkest skin…”

Igor added, “I think it’s aimed at those with the most abnormal aesthetic sense. Ashe, with Harvey here, you got lucky this time.”

Lise, less sharp-tongued, proposed a more reasonable hypothesis, “Maybe Uncle Harvey’s brain got messed up from smoking too much?”

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