Sorcerer’s Handbook

Sylin stood up abruptly as the visitor entered, the Blood Moon filtering through his hair, illuminating his half-astonished face.

“Why… How could you…”

“Perhaps just to see the look on your face right now.”

Ashe said with a smile, “An Ashe Heath who never learned Swordsmanship, facing an arrogant elf swordsman in Battle, miraculously defeating him, and after escaping from prison, seeking revenge on the one who framed him—thus beginning a life of grandeur. How do you like that script?”

“Oh, and don’t move rashly, or my fingers might slip.”

Sylin suddenly felt a chill on his neck, and warm liquid seeped into his collar.

“Don’t lower your head, or it might fall off,” Ashe said earnestly, his right hand forming a sword finger aimed at the elf Professor.

He pulled a longsword from under his tongue, propped it on the ground, the Sword Barrier Miracle ready to go.

Sylin glanced downward, “Heart Sword… The Heart Sword spirit of Valcas? I see, it makes sense now. I was wondering, Valcas is no careless elf, if he truly intended to kill someone, there’s no reason there would be a ‘nearly dead’ kind of mistake—on the contrary, it’s more likely he did it on purpose, showing off his skills even from a young age.”

“Yes, for instance, scoring one point more with each exam than the last, or doing a handstand on the balance beam using just one finger, or only making a comeback in a Swordsmanship competition after deliberately losing 10 points… He’s always been obsessed with his Talent, always wanting to be a dazzling hero, always seeking to increase the difficulty to attract everyone’s attention.”

Sylin’s eyelids drooped halfway, “He was always a mischievous and proud child.”

Ashe’s pupils dilated slightly, “What… What is your relationship with Valcas?”

Sylin slightly tilted his head, allowing the Heart Sword to cut a streak across his throat, “I know what you’re thinking… I once was a teacher at the ‘Emerald Dragon Nursery’, taught there for thirty-one years, yes, now it’s been renamed to ‘Emerald Garden’. In my second year of teaching, the Beloved Church brought in six elven children—one of them was Valcas Uhl.”

“His name was one I chose, symbolizing ‘liberty’s water lily.’ It’s customary for elves to pick new names for themselves after they leave the Nursery, much like I chose my own name, which means ‘the splendid iron begonia.’”

“He never changed his name, which not only shows he liked it but also suggests…”

Sylin gently pressed his right hand to his left chest: “He held great affection for me, his guardian teacher who watched over him since he was young.”

Although Ashe had anticipated that the relationship between Sylin and Valcas was unusual—given the undisguised bitterness Valcas had shown towards Sylin, indicating a deep-seated enmity that was more than just a matter of interest—he never imagined it would be this close!

“Then why… did you send Valcas to the Blood Moon Tribunal?”

“What a strange question, Heath, very strange,” Sylin said. “He broke the law, was put in Prison, and sent to trial. Everything was deserved, everything was as it should be. It was his own missteps that doomed him, not me. Why do you speak as if I was the one who killed him?”

“Stop pretending. After hearing Fernand Snow’s speech a few days ago, do you think I’m still willing to listen to this nonsense?” Ashe scoffed. “You sit in high places, skillfully leveraging your authority, wrapping your personal vendettas in the guise of public duty. Of course, you can achieve your goals within the bounds of the law—this is all just a ‘slight whim of power.’”

“My question is, with such a deep history between you and Valcas, how could you decide to eliminate him? Merely because he failed in his task, not killing me in the Deathmatch? Just to ensure my demise in the Blood Moon Tribunal, you included him in the Judgment sequence to die alongside me?”

‘”Merely”?’ Sylin’s face showed rare irritation: “I was quite serious about murdering you! I had exhausted all my efforts, utilized every method at my disposal. You trivialize my days of effort and determination with a single ‘merely’!?”

The sudden outburst from the elf forced Ashe to step back slightly—any less, and the Heart Sword would have slit the elf’s throat! Professor Sylin actually ignored his own safety, lunging his head forward towards Ashe as if Ashe’s words had hit a nerve!

“Calm down, Professor Sylin,” Ashe didn’t even know what he was saying: “Let’s talk this out slowly, no sudden moves. I didn’t want things to come to this either.”

In an instant, the roles of assailant and victim reversed; Ashe, the would-be assassin, became deferential while Professor Sylin, the intended victim, grew haughty—simply because Ashe realized his ‘threat’ was not as effective as he had imagined.

He thought that once he had successfully positioned the Heart Sword at the elf’s neck, only two outcomes were possible—

The elf would rather die than submit, and Ashe would have no choice but to grant him release;

The elf would cower in fear, allowing Ashe to carry out a satisfying revenge.

However, Professor Sylin’s reaction was completely unexpected.

He was surprised, but not afraid; he was unafraid of death, but also didn’t mind spilling information to Ashe.

Ashe had been prepared for Sylin to attempt some kind of counterattack miracle, ready to behead him with a single strike should Sylin show any sign of resistance.

Instead of a counterattack, Sylin actually thrust his neck against the blade of the Heart Sword.

This left Ashe in a dilemma—because he needed not only Heath’s information but also intelligence on how to escape the Blood Moon Kingdom.

Such information wasn’t something a Social Idler without an ID card could easily come by, yet the elf before him was a high-level player with revered status politically (councilor), racially (Elven Rights Association), academically (Professor), and even in the underworld (Woodpecker), with connections built over two hundred years that made Sylin a vast source of information.

With Ashe’s current abilities, Professor Sylin was his best bet for consultation on leaving the Blood Moon—of course, aside from Sylin, there were certainly others who knew the channels of escape, such as Blood Mad Hunter Gerard, the heads of Research Institutes, Commanders of Warzones, Bishops of the Beloved Church… And that’s why Ashe was so conflicted; aside from Sylin, any of the others could easily take him down, just like they would a Lala Fatty he had for dinner.

Ashe quickly weighed the pros and cons and decided to play nice with the Elf for now. He would soothe him, extract the information he needed, and then thrust his Heart Sword through the throat of this mastermind, completing a glamorous revenge and becoming a fully justified fugitive.

Valcas once drove a sword through my throat during the Blood Moon Tribunal, and now I’ll do the same to you—fair, isn’t it? I’m just making a small profit on the deal, taking the Heart Sword along. In essence, it’s actually Valcas’s rebellion against you.

As the saying goes, every debt has its debtor, Professor Sylin. Once you’re in the Virtual Realm, go seek revenge on Valcas. Of course, you can also come after me, and I’ll have the Swordswoman smash your head.

After mentally preparing himself to play the villain, Ashe managed to force a friendly smile, “Professor Sylin…”

“I gave him a chance.”

“Eh?”

“I never spare my kindness toward my kin. Every Elf that has strayed from the path, I’ve given them chances to redeem themselves, over and over,” said Sylin indifferently. “If I had the chance, how I wish I could sit and drink with Valcas, how I wish I could hand over this study to him… just like the Chairman before me handed it down to me 70 years ago.”

“He was the successor I most admired. He despised politics, yet he was adept at it from a young age; he relished killing, yet his hands were clean and left no evidence; he loved taking risks, which is why he was the Leader of Woodpecker for a decade—and that was truly the most comfortable decade. Compared to him, Gersas is but a wild boar rummaging for treasures in the mud.”

“And, your initial guess might not have been wrong.”

“Hmm?”

Ashe didn’t catch on at first—his initial guess?

“I was not only Valcas’s guardian teacher, but I might also be the ‘provider’ of Valcas in a physiological sense.”

Ashe’s mouth fell open, and after a moment, he managed to utter a single word: “Might?”

“I don’t have the kind of interest that Fernand Snow has in deliberately tracing my own Bloodline,” Professor Sylin said calmly. “However, we Elves are a very special Race. Not only is our desire to mate low, but the probability of combining genetic factors is also quite low, only rising from 0.8% to 13% during a certain month. This month is known as ‘the Month of Elf Birth’, which occurs roughly once every three years.”

“Unlike other Races that can reproduce at will, Elves only have ‘complete mating rights’ during the Month of Elf Birth. This is both to increase the birth rate and to cut the Bloodline Bond—since so few Elves are born, if births were scattered, it would be easy for the provider of the Bloodline to find their offspring based on the birth date.”

“A year before Valcas joined the Nursery, I heeded the call of the Church and partook in complete mating. Theoretically, it is indeed possible that Valcas could be my child. We share the same hair and eye color, and I can see the shadow of my past self in him.”

Professor Sylin’s voice remained steady, but his pupils revealed the deep scars of the years.

Time may not etch its mark on the bodies of Elves, but their Souls are already occupied by their vast pasts. Merely flipping a page from memory can release a whirlwind of bygone days.

“He was both your student and your child, why…”

“Valcas disappointed me,” Professor Sylin covered his eyes with his hand. “He is a stain on the Elves, a rebel of the long-lived Race. I gave him opportunities, using the chance to reunite with his biological child as a reward, but he still chose to defy my wishes… I cannot bear to see him suffer in Blood Moon Heaven.”

Perhaps living too long in this elusive Kingdom, Ashe found himself observing these incomprehensible and bizarre interpersonal relationships with calm detachment, losing any desire to judge.

Now that Valcas’s mystery had been unraveled, what was next…

“Professor Sylin, why exactly did you want to…”

Suddenly, Ashe found himself moving very slowly, as if his thoughts were lagging like when listening to a foreign language listening test. He watched helplessly as Professor Sylin stepped back, out of the Heart Sword’s range, with spirit emanating from his body, casting a Miracle.

As Ashe’s mind slowly began to form the thought, “I need to use the Sword Barrier for defense,” it was already too late.

The wooden floorboards suddenly sprouted branches that pierced through the carpet, and trunks snaked up his body. In no time, a large tree had formed within the study, and Ashe had become one with the trunk, completely bound by it.

Crack!

Time seemed to crash down like rain, making a clear sound, and Ashe finally regained his normal pace, but it was of no use—the tree not only firmly trapped his body but also locked away his arcane energy. The floating Heart Sword had dissipated due to the interruption of the arcane connection!

The Honeyed Blade, an essential tool for the manipulation of Swordsmanship spirits, had been snatched away by the branches. Now, all of Ashe’s Swordsmanship spirits were unusable!

This was the weakness of a professional spirit user—once the common Restrictions of the corresponding Faction are identified and the necessary casting medium is taken away, most of the opponent’s powerful spirits can be rendered useless!

“As expected, you couldn’t resist the control of the Eye of Awe.”

It was then that Ashe noticed that Sylin had removed his right glove at some point.

He had his right hand covering his eyes, yet Ashe could clearly see the Elf’s emerald pupils—so profound and dazzling, as if they were about to draw in a person’s Soul.

But what surged in Ashe’s heart was not fear but profound shock.

For in the palm of Sylin’s hand was a hole.

A hole that seemed just right for allowing an eye to peer through!

“You’re not really Ashe Heath, who are you?”

Sylin put down his hand and sat back in his chair, his gaze filled with confusion as he looked at Ashe.

Although Ashe didn’t know how he was discovered, he quickly seized the opportunity to play along: “Yeah, right, I’m definitely not Ashe Heath, just an ordinary person who couldn’t sleep and went out for a walk at night. I hope the Elf lord will release me quickly, otherwise I’ll accuse you of imprisoning me and violating my human rights—”

Sylin paid him no mind, mumbling to himself with his head down.

But suddenly, he stood up, his expression filled with an unmistakable terror and a hysterical ferocity.

“Could it be… the Ritual succeeded?”

He stared at Ashe as if he wanted to devour the handsome young man alive: “Are you the true ‘Tactile’?”

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