One-Eyed Monster

Guru Mountain, Moonflow Stream.

White snow had, long ago, covered everything. It was the season of deep winter, when in a single night, goosefeather-like snow could enshroud the entire mountain.

Yet, no matter how heavy the snow, Moonflow Stream always flowed, undaunted, year-round. Furthermore, melodious singing would always arise whenever the moon rose.

The night seemed to last forever, but the moon still hadn’t made an appearance. The flowing water only made gurgling sounds, no longer producing its enchanting songs.

Against the darkness, the white snow was still strikingly visible. Not far away, a small, hill-like mound of snow began to stir.

At first, the mound merely rocked slightly, snowflakes falling continuously from it, as if stirred by a gentle breeze. But not long after, the mound began to shift more noticeably, as though something were rumbling underground, causing it to tremble ceaselessly.

The tremor didn’t last long. With a CRASH, the mound collapsed. The wind gradually blew away the flurry of white, revealing a figure completely enveloped in a black cloak. The contrast of black and white was particularly stark, exceptionally eye-catching.

The fallen figure was none other than Reed of the Black Crow. At this moment, he spat out a mouthful of blood; evidently, he had been grievously wounded. The blood quickly stained the surrounding snow red.

White snow, black night, red blood!

A conspicuous scene unfolded at Moonflow Stream, soundlessly and without warning.

Wizard Reed wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, propped himself up with a hand, and then laboriously sat on the ground. Bizarrely, the spot where he sat remained pristine white snow, showing no trace of his presence. It didn’t look like a place where a warm-blooded person had sat.

Wizard Reed had originally been resting in the snow-filled night, sitting there motionless, like a statue.

That was his most relaxed moment. He knew the cold and ice outside could not change him; he no longer feared things that ordinary people dreaded. He had already reached a certain realm. Dark Arts had transformed him fundamentally. He was no longer the Wizard Apprentice he once was, nor the confused adolescent adrift in the professional world. Dark Arts had made him realize a truth: no matter what, the world would only bow at the feet of power. Power would forever dictate this world.

Wizard Reed steadied his breath. His plan had been proceeding smoothly; everything was within his control. He had poured considerable effort into this scheme. He had endured and hidden for so long, all to make his move here, and indeed, his forbearance had yielded desirable results. Everything had been advancing quietly and stealthily. As long as no major mishaps occurred, he would soon seize the living key to the depths. Reed had discovered that the beings on this mountain were not as formidable as the records suggested. Perhaps because they had hidden in this mountain for too long, they had long lost their original edge. Reed initially thought he could achieve his goal effortlessly. Having come this far, there was no point in retreating. It was better to give it his all. Leveraging the deep winter, this cold opportunity, he could have achieved twice the result with half the effort.

But not everything had gone according to his expectations. Everything has a rhythm, and those who merely dance around its edges can never truly become part of the melody. Wizard Reed had wanted to turn this place into his territory, but unfortunately, he couldn’t fully control it. There were always those outside his control, people who constantly tried to ruin his plans. Although his approach was adaptable, any obstruction still frustrated him, even when advancing with such flexibility.

He felt he had performed the task assigned by the Chieftain quite well. As a confidant of the Chieftain, he acted strictly according to the Chieftain’s orders. The Alchemy Workshop, the Black Crow’s Puppets—all sorts of people had become his chess pieces. To achieve his goals, he had utilized every resource at his disposal. Sometimes he questioned himself: was it all worth it? But the Chieftain, Lord Willem, always persuaded him to charge forward without hesitation. That irresistible power, those unseen things, the mere whispers of legend—these were his true driving force.

Coming to this mountain meant completely discarding his past self. The name ’Wizard Reed’ belonged to his past; such a title would no longer exist in the world. Some came to this mountain seeking self-discovery, others rebirth. Wizard Reed came for rebirth. He aimed to be a controller of the world—an ambitious goal indeed. Yet, in his heart, he would always rank second to Lord Willem. No matter what, he would always place himself beneath Willem.

This mountain sealed an ancient art, an art possessing the power to change the world, promising them endless might. This infinite power could transform their very forms, even allowing them to transcend life and death. Wizard Reed could feel the changes within himself. Since embracing the Dark Arts, everything had become extraordinary. He found he was no longer his former self; he had transcended many limitations. For example, it was now difficult to judge him by ordinary human standards. He was no longer the Wizard who had been heavily suppressed in the professional world. He had fully become a messenger of darkness, a Dark Wizard capable of obstructing the Eternal Tranquility Realm.

In pursuit of greater power, he hadn’t hesitated to abandon much of himself. Whether his face or his heart, he was willing to trade them for the power of the Devil. The power of the Devil was indeed a legendary shortcut! He even believed that people rejected Dark Arts not out of fear of the arts themselves, but fear that more would discover this shortcut. Once more people knew this path, those currently ruling the world would lose their dominion. To change this world, to pursue a new one, he had to act. Wizard Reed no longer wanted to see the world as it was. He desired to overturn it completely. Willem had offered him this opportunity, and he absolutely could not give up, even now, in this dire situation.

Wizard Reed wiped away the blood that continued to flow from the corner of his mouth. A dark smile touched his lips. To him, all this was normal. If one wished to change the fabric of the world, such minor shocks were nothing, utterly insignificant. However, it now seemed impossible for him to proceed as quietly as he had originally intended.