The Sorcerer's Handbook

”Name?”

”Ashe... Ashe Heath.”

”Age?”

”I don’t know. I have amnesia.”

”Gender?”

”Let me see... male.”

”Race?”

”Probably not a dog?”

”Past experiences?”

”I really don’t know... I have amnesia.”

***

Bloodrage Hunter Amy observed the interrogation room through the one-way mirror. While listening to Ashe’s nonchalant and absurd responses to the questioning, her pupils narrowed into vertical slits and her fingernails lengthened with anger.

”Captain, does this scoundrel take everyone in the Heresy Court for idiots? This interrogation is going nowhere. Let me handle it. Back in school, a priest taught me interrogation techniques. I even earned a Level One Interrogation License. I swear by that priest’s name that I’ll make this bastard confess every shameful thing, even the nights he wet the bed as a child!”

”Burn that license. The Human Rights Act Amendment abolished professional interrogation and prohibited the Heresy Court from questioning suspects twelve years ago. You should consider yourself lucky if they only revoked your hunter license. In serious cases, the penalty could be over a hundred years in prison. The parliament is watching us closely. If Ashe Heath loses even one night’s sleep here, we’ll be in trouble. I won’t stop you if you want the parliament to come down on you.”

Amy pouted, half-frustrated and half-wary. ”Hmph.”

She quickly changed the topic. ”Where’s the memory specialist? It’s been so long since we caught him. Why hasn’t anyone come to extract this scoundrel’s memories?”

”The memory specialist won’t come.”

”Why not? This is a major case. Shouldn’t a memory specialist extract memory evidence regardless? I remember the Criminal Code mandates memories be used as direct evidence in all criminal cases.”

”But he’s different.”

”Different how?”

Gerard looked at her. ”He’s seen the Four Pillars Deities.”

Amy was taken aback. She quickly understood the implication.

Gerard explained, ”It’s not just him. None of the cultists’ memories can be extracted. Memory contamination is the Four Pillars’ specialty. In a case I handled 134 years ago, a memory specialist extracted a cultist’s memories and ended up becoming a follower. That’s why the Four Pillars cult keeps resurfacing, no matter how many times they’re destroyed.”

Amy was stunned. ”Then what can we do? Asking won’t work, torture is forbidden, and memory extraction is impossible... Are we supposed to just let him go? Or make some special exception?”

Gerard shook his head. ”No exceptions are needed. There’s one punishment fitting for such a heinous criminal who’s caused enormous public outrage. The interrogation here is only a formality. The real judgement will be carried out by the people of the city together at 8 p.m. on the 15th.”

Amy quickly caught on. When she turned back to see the cult leader answering every question with either ”I don’t know” or ”I have amnesia” in the interrogation room, she couldn’t shake off her irritation. She stuck out her tongue in contempt and walked away with her gray tail between her legs.

Gerard continued observing the unproductive interrogation. After fifteen minutes, they paused to let the suspect rest, as mandated by the Human Rights Act.

During that time, Ashe sipped some water. From time to time, he would touch the spot on his chest where he’d been pierced, and his expression would shift between shock and unease.

For some reason, Gerard felt he wasn’t lying. Every reaction he showed—panic, curiosity, fear, and confusion—was consistent with someone genuinely suffering from amnesia.

Under the Human Rights Act, symptoms like dissociative identity disorder, amnesia, or other mental illnesses could be deemed a lack of capacity for self-governance, exempting a person from criminal liability.

If memory extraction confirmed Ashe truly had amnesia, he could even be found not guilty.

Nevertheless, that didn’t concern Gerard, as memory extraction was impossible because of the Four Pillars Deities.

”It’s up to the public to judge you. Our role is only to bring you before them.”

With that, Gerard left to pursue the next suspect.

***

Lying on the clean, soft bed, Ashe set down the documents in his hand and looked around the bright, spacious cell, complete with its own bathroom. His heart felt heavy. Well, guess I really am dying early this time...

He had already figured out the truth after witnessing the ugly downfall of those ”angels.” He just hadn’t expected reality to turn out even worse than he had imagined. The hunters’ accusations were completely valid. He truly was a bona fide cult leader through and through.

The gods who granted Ashe power were the world’s most infamous Four Pillars Deities. They had many titles, but were most known for always appearing together and stirring endless chaos in this world.

The Lord of Infinite Lights, also called the Tyrant, pursued endless war and seas of corpses vast enough to drown the world. His followers would slaughter everything they saw, even themselves.

The Lord of Wind, Rain, and Snow, also called the Conspirator, was known for manipulating mortals with schemes and plots. He delighted in fulfilling his followers’ wishes at the cost of driving them to utter madness.

The Heart of Eternal Flame, also called the Compassionate Father, was the source of all plagues and diseases, as well as the final destination for all rotten things. His followers would become hotbeds of disease. They lived in endless pain, horror, and despair, but could never die.

The Soul of Dreams and Freedom, also known as the Debauched Prince, embodied the endless desires of all creatures. He was the most thoroughly documented of the four. Intelligent beings were his easiest targets; he could corrupt them with desire, reducing them to instinct-driven animals whose rationality was entirely consumed, never to be satisfied again.

Ashe had considered the possibility that the information was fabricated to deceive him, but two things made that unlikely. Firstly, his captors could have presented him in any way they wanted, since he was already in their custody. Secondly, the records contained vivid details of Heath’s crimes and cruel methods. Just reading them made Ashe feel like vomiting up the mushroom chicken noodle soup he had just eaten.

Since Heath was evil, the Four Pillars must be wicked gods. Then by contrast, the Bloodrage Hunters who captured him represented justice... or at least forces that maintained societal stability.

In just half a day, Ashe had experienced a dramatic emotional rollercoaster. At first, he thought he was a novice hero leaving the beginner’s village. Then he realized he was actually a fledgling cult leader who had just accepted his first batch of angels. Before he knew it, he had been swarmed like a wild elite monster by groups of heroes.

Ashe tossed and turned in bed, cursing fate’s unfairness. If I transmigrated as a cult leader, then so be it. But why, of all times, did it have to be right when the hunters were cracking down on the cult? Did I cross over just to become a performance bonus for the hunters?!

He also wondered if he had truly just died from overwork and this was his afterlife. Yet all his thoughts boiled down to a single, pressing question. How will they execute me?

The entire interrogation had been remarkably polite. He was given free meals and a luxurious private room, and the only discomfort came from the stylish bracelets and anklets he was required to wear. Ashe even felt as if he were on vacation yet he knew without a doubt that they would never let him go.

Nevertheless, Ashe could vaguely feel that this world was surprisingly civilized. For all I know... the death penalty might have been abolished here. If that’s the case... maybe I’ll still have a chance to live.

Just then, a crisp notification chime rang in his mind. Ding-Dong!

Ashe felt his neck grow warm. His heart skipped a beat as a screen of light unfolded before his eyes. He focused intently to make sense of the unfamiliar words on it.

[Dear Mr. Ashe Heath, prisoner number 4001623. The Caimon City Hall formally invites you to appear as a special guest on the Caimon Channel One TV program, Blood Moon Tribunal, at 8 p.m. on the 15th. Please ensure your attire and grooming are appropriate. An escort will be sent to bring you to the live studio. Reply ”TC” if you wish to decline this invitation.]

Ashe didn’t know what the Blood Moon Tribunal was, but the name gave him the unmistakable sense that it meant nothing good. He immediately tried to type ”TC” in the reply box.

Just as he was about to do so, another prompt popped up on the screen.

[You are currently under arrest and investigation. Messaging functions have been disabled.]

Damnit! So the last part of the notice was just to bait me!?

Ashe had more or less guessed that the Blood Moon Tribunal was his death sentence, but for now, his attention was fixed on the strange new gadget before him.

He touched the back of his neck but couldn’t feel any obvious bumps or protrusions. Still, he could clearly sense the screen was intimately connected to his neck, as if whatever generated the light screen had been implanted there.

Since a death verdict had been sent through it, Ashe figured this must be a communication tool everyone used here, and that it wasn’t something exclusive to him.

Sure enough, when he focused on the ”?” icon in the top left corner, a whole series of information popped up.

[Heath’s Mind Screen]

Version 14.4.1

Chip Model

- Miracle 13

Current Status

- Messaging functions disabled; Internet access disabled; Channel access disabled; Recording disabled; Kinetic energy output restricted; Virtual World access disabled; Mana output disabled.

Main Number

- 459105198

Service Provider

- Caimon Psychic Hotline

Ashe casually renamed it ”Ashe’s Mind Screen.” He was struck by how advanced this world was. Besides having extraordinary ways to boost combat abilities, devices like this seemed to be widely available to everyone.

Ashe had hoped this would turn out to be some kind of crossover cheat, yet in an ironic twist of fate, it was nothing more than a mass-produced gadget. It was like an ancient person suddenly transported to the modern world, picking up a cell phone and mistaking it for a sacred artifact.

Thinking back on his earlier chuuni[1] thoughts, Ashe felt somewhat embarrassed.

Though Ashe was eager to explore his new toy, most of its functions were restricted. Aside from the calendar, messaging, memos, and calculator, the only thing left was...

Aurora Sorcerer’s Handbook?

Ashe frowned in confusion.

1. Chuunibyou (中二病), short “chuuni,” literally means ”middle-school second-year syndrome” in Japanese. It refers to a phase, often in the early teens, where someone acts overly dramatic, delusional, or imagines themselves having special powers, secret identities, or a dark, mysterious persona. ☜