Sorcerer’s Handbook

Inside the design studio, a bald, muscular man was cutting fabric, altering patterns, and creating prototypes. The room was filled with various mannequins, fabrics, and fashion accessories, yet it was impeccably organized, everything in its place, creating an aesthetically pleasing atmosphere.

“Approved! It’s approved!”

A young female prisoner burst through the door of the studio, exclaiming excitedly, “Master Langna, our design submission has been accepted! Cassie’s signature style for this summer will be your ‘Phantasmal Mirage’ collection! Congratulations!”

“This is a shared honor,” Langna said with a gentle smile. “Annette, with this successful experience, you are now a qualified fashion designer.”

“It’s all thanks to Master Langna’s guidance,” Annette bowed deeply. “If it weren’t for your unreserved teaching, how could I have made such rapid progress? This honor belongs to you, Master. My contribution is negligible by comparison. I am unworthy.”

“Enough with the formalities,” Langna’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes sparkling with mirth, “if you don’t mind, join us for dinner tonight. We need to share such good news with Ronald.”

“Can we order food?” Annette joked back.

“Yes, but the total must be within five contribution points,” Langna winked. “Now, back to work. Don’t think that just because you have Cassie’s contribution points coming in, you can slack off. Contribution points can never be too many, and you should start trying to design independently. Maybe you’ll be in charge of next season’s design…”

“Okay, okay, I get it! Master Langna, you are great in every way, just a bit too long-winded.”

Annette looked at the pile of fabrics in front of her, her mind not at all on her tasks. Her attention quickly returned to Langna, and the more she watched him work, the more she found the man irresistibly charming, her infatuated smile impossible to hide.

Sadly, he wasn’t interested in women.

Annette sighed, feeling that the world was just too cruel. It was hard enough to find someone she liked, but to compete with women was one thing; competing with men was something else entirely.

She had been in Shattered Lake Prison for over a year, like most death row inmates, she had no skills beyond those needed to survive her sentence, and she certainly lacked the fighting prowess for the Arena – which might be a blessing, sparing her from getting beaten to a pulp by the Deathmatch Society’s deceivingly tough contenders.

Annette also dared not bet that the citizens would spare her in the Blood Moon Tribunal because of her looks – on the contrary, the impulse to destroy beauty is a dark urge hidden deep within the human heart.

The twisted individuals in this kingdom were not only among the death row inmates confined in prison.

But learning a skill in prison that could earn contribution points was almost as hard as encountering a Whirlpool in the Sea of Knowledge.

Repetitive, simple manual labor was worthless; it had to be a unique skill, like the Orcs’ Maze toys, the Goblins’ bone carvings, or the Ogres’ oil paintings — Annette had only learned after arriving that Ogres’ oil paintings could sell for so much money.

Besides that, it required mentally demanding, complex tasks like writing, composing music, or handling taxes—because of the ‘harmlessness’ of death row inmates, tax accountants from Shattered Lake Prison were especially popular among the wealthy. As long as they survived the first Blood Moon Tribunal, those inmates with actuary, tax, or accounting skills usually managed quite well in prison.

Annette certainly didn’t have time to learn a skill nor the brain for complex tasks. Just when she was about to give up and wait for death, aimlessly wandering around the prison, she stumbled into Langna’s design studio.

Everywhere she looked there were fabrics and textiles, and Annette’s eyes could hardly move away from the garments draped on mannequins—the prison only provided plain white uniforms, and it had been so long since she had worn nice clothes.

She looked around the studio for a long time until a deep male voice suddenly came from behind her:

“Do you like this dress? Would you like to try it on?”

And before she knew it, she was muddled into becoming Langna’s design assistant, an apprentice fashion designer.

Those who knew Langna found it hard to associate his appearance with the occupation of a fashion designer, but Langna was a highly valued exclusive designer for Cassie, a renowned brand in the Blood Moon Kingdom. Nearly every one of his designs became the main style for Cassie each season.

Young women and housewives dressed in fashionable styles would never know that the designs they wore were actually the work of a bald death row inmate.

Although the brand’s promotion helped, Langna’s ability to set trends every season proved his exceptional skill. Even Annette, who had never been exposed to fashion design before, had grown step by step under Langna’s tutelage, and now their joint design submission had even been recognized by Cassie!

Annette even began to feel grateful for her imprisonment—if the past twenty years of her life had been a dark chaos, then Langna was the brightest rainbow she had ever encountered.

Langna’s personality, talent, and eloquence were all so captivating to her.

Even his bald head radiated the unique rebellion of an artist.

If she could stay with Langna for the rest of her life, being in prison would not matter. In fact, compared to the murky society outside, the small prison was more accommodating of a quiet design studio.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t interested, or to put it another way, his interest in women wasn’t very strong.

Every time she thought about this, Annette felt an overwhelming sadness. She had even considered going to the treatment room to see a medic for a full-body gender transformation. After all, in the Blood Moon Kingdom, gender has never been an insurmountable barrier.

But making such a decision was really hard, and Annette didn’t know if Langna would mind her not being the ‘original product’. Plus, Langna was single at the time, and Annette thought that maybe she could change his orientation over time. There’s a saying, “No matter how twisted a man’s guts are, when it’s time to stand up, it’s straight.” Annette was quite confident in her physical attributes and flirting abilities.

If not for the chip’s restriction against any violent behavior, Annette would have even considered taking action first and sorting out the details later.

However, a year had passed and Annette hadn’t even touched Langna’s bald head. To make matters worse, she had to share meals with them every night, enduring the sour stench of their romance.

Every time she thought about it, Annette felt like the fabric she was working with was that detestable man, Ronald, and she imagined cutting him into pieces with her scissors.

Knock knock.

The door to the design studio opened and Langna looked up, his eyes narrowing into crescents as he smiled gently, “My dear, what brings you here? Are you not feeling well? Should I accompany you to the Treatment room?”

Ronald, pale-faced, shook his head: “I’m fine, Langna. I came today because there’s something we need to discuss with you.”

“More precisely,” a handsome man entered the studio, “it’s something we both need to discuss with you.”

Langna’s expression cooled slightly: “Beautiful Beast Igor… my dear, stay close, he’s dangerous. Igor, don’t think the Prison can protect you. If you dare to harm Ronald, I have my ways to make your life a living hell.”

Another person entered the studio, standing between Igor and Langna: “Don’t worry, Langna, no one here will get hurt.”

Langna’s smile had vanished: “Demon Ashe, I thought even if we weren’t friends, we were certainly not enemies either.”

Ashe replied with a smile, “We are friends, we were in the past, we are now, and we will be in the future.”

“Langna, we’ve come to discuss a partnership with you.”

Suddenly, Langna raised his hand: “Annette, please leave.”

“But, Master—”

“Leave now!”

Annette glared at Ashe and the others, biting her lip in frustration as she stormed out.

Ashe glanced at the closed door, “You must have guessed why we’re here. We’re not here to chat about vulgar men’s talk, and we wouldn’t mind having an accomplice.”

Although Igor hadn’t announced his intention to escape from prison through a megaphone, his meetings with several well-known prison personalities had already spread the word. Given Langna’s status as a Gourmet, he surely knew why Igor had come, which is why he had intentionally sent Annette away.

Langna paid no attention to Ashe, his blue eyes quietly fixed on Ronald, “My dear, is this your idea?”

Ronald, who initially appeared hesitant, found resolve as he gazed into those deep blue eyes, recalling the brutality of the Arena Deathmatch, and he clenched his teeth, “Langna, I want to join Igor’s team and escape from prison with them!”

“My dear, we can live well here in prison; I earn enough Contribution points to ensure we’ll never be chosen for the Blood Moon Tribunal—”

“But I want to leave!” Ronald exclaimed loudly. “Langna, do you want to leave with me, or stay here?”

Langna was silent for a long time, glancing at Ashe and Igor.

When his gaze swept over them, Ashe felt a chill run down his spine, a primal fear as if facing a natural predator, and he even felt the urge to flee!

It was like… facing an Executioner.

“My dear, you know I can’t refuse the request of the one I love.”

After a while, Langna exhaled calmly and said, “Beautiful Beast, Demon, as you wish, I, Langna Chios, am willing to follow your command. But remember, if Ronald meets with misfortune during the operation, you will also have to accompany him in death.”

“Tell us about your plan.”

“Since we haven’t gathered everyone yet, I can’t reveal too much,” Igor said. “All I can tell you is that Ashe has a way to remove the Chip Restriction.”

Langna looked at Ashe with a surprised glance but didn’t say much: “Who else do you need to find? I can help.”

Igor shook his head: “No need, but you have to tell us what abilities you possess after the Chip Restriction is lifted. Maybe you are just what the team needs to fill in our gaps, and we won’t need to find new members.”

Langna was silent for a moment, seemingly pondering whether to reveal his secrets. Everyone waited quietly for Langna’s decision.

Finally, he sighed: “Turn off the lights except for one.”

When only one light in the corner of the design studio remained, Langna walked into the shadows where the Lighting couldn’t reach, merging with the darkness.

“I am a Moonshadow.”

Igor’s body shook: “Impossible, the Moonshadow and the sacred bloodline would never be allowed in the Blood Moon Tribunal. The Research Institute and the Church would not allow such a stain on the honor of the two Races—”

“But I am the exception. Unlike my brethren who need the glow of the Blood Moon to undergo Moonshadow Transfiguration, I must hide in the shadows to transform. Under the light of the Blood Moon, I cannot change form, and the Church does not have to worry about me dishonoring our Race.”

“Furthermore, unlike my brethren who resonate with the Blood Moon and fall into a frenzy, I have never heeded the call of the Blood Moon. After entering Moonshadow Transfiguration, I only become more ruthless, more rebellious, more… cold-hearted.”

With the light, agile steps of a predator, a Werewolf over two meters tall, covered in gray fur, stepped into the light.

Its deep blue pupils made all three men feel as if they were plunged into an ice cave.

“I am the Church’s traitor, the shame of the Moonshadow, a beast even the Blood Moon spurns. I am neither a pure Moonshadow nor a devout Human; every strand of my fur is filled with disloyalty to the Blood Moon.”

“They call me, the Werewolf.”

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