The Sorcerer's Handbook

Watching the battered Swordfish Dragon flee in panic into the white mist, Syflin fell into thought.

This was already the fourth Knowledge Creature she had come across tonight. Normally, her nightly excursions in the Virtual World would yield only a single special event. Most of the time, she drifted aimlessly across the boundless Sea of Knowledge, swallowed by impenetrable white mist. Were it not for some strange twist of fate, encounters on this vast sea would have been all but impossible.

Yet tonight had been different. She had faced four Knowledge Creatures in quick succession. She wondered if it could be their breeding season, driving them to gather in some kind of frenzied cluster.

Nevertheless, deep down, Syflin had a vague idea why these encounters kept happening.

Syflin shifted back into her tiny bat form and waited for a moment. Shortly after, she heard the familiar splash again.

Again! That made five in a row!

It no longer felt like a coincidence. She could even predict what would happen next. She would fly toward the source of the sound, and another Knowledge Creature would appear, just like the previous four.

What in the world is going on?

Books like A Hundred Years in the Virtual World, Ten Years at Sea, The Poor Sorcerer and the Rich Sorcerer, and Sailing Ten Thousand Miles had never mentioned anything like this. The closest parallel she could recall was the legendary Mermaid’s Call.

Rumor had it that a Knowledge Creature called the Lantern Maiden Dragon lurked in the Sea of Knowledge. Its true form was grotesque, but its tentacles could manifest as beautiful mermaids, each with enchanting looks, sweet voices, and seductive figures. When a sorcerer gave in to temptation and approached them, the Lantern Maiden Dragon, lurking beneath the waves, would suddenly burst forth and devour the intruder whole.

Yet Syflin had neither seen mermaids nor encountered any traps. It was as if the splashing sound existed for a single purpose: to guide her to the nearest Knowledge Creature.

She considered the possibility that another sorcerer was playing tricks on her, but the idea made little sense. Only Silver Rank sorcerers could exist within the Sea of Knowledge, and at that level, her Ultrasonic Detection was already among the finest reconnaissance-type Miracles. It could probe only three meters ahead. Beyond that range, the dense white mist completely blocked all sound waves.

Before ambushing the Swordfish Dragon, she had crossed nearly a hundred meters of open sea. No Silver Rank Miracle could observe through such a distance. Even Miracles of the Prophecy or Fate Class were incapable of penetrating dozens of meters of white mist. To perceive that far, a sorcerer would have to reach at least the Two-Winged Gold or Three-Winged Sacred Realm. Power at that level would have dwarfed hers entirely.

If someone truly possessed such strength, there would have been no reason to guide her at all. They could have just tied her up and taken whatever they wanted directly. This was the Virtual World. As long as a person concealed their identity well, even if the Blood Saint Clan sought revenge, they would never find their target.

The more Syflin thought about it, the more convinced she became that this was some mechanism within the Virtual World itself actively guiding her toward the nearest Knowledge Creature.

Like a Whirlpool, the Virtual World was riddled with mysterious mechanisms that defied analysis. Some appeared at random, while others were triggered unintentionally by sorcerers.

The Grand Road of the Sea of Knowledge was a prime example. Research institutes had yet to identify a reliable trigger condition, but aggregated data showed that sorcerers who specialized in Earth magics were the most likely to encounter it. Most likely, their actions subtly altered the Virtual World itself, allowing the Grand Road to surface.

Syflin once read a miscellaneous book titled Records of the Illusory World, which documented many such unfalsifiable mechanisms. One account claimed that if a One-Winged spirit were thrown into the sea, a masked sorcerer would emerge from the depths with a Two-Winged spirit in one hand and a Three-Winged spirit in the other. He would then ask which spirit had just been thrown in. If the answer was given honestly, that it was neither, a reward would follow. Most of the stories in the book shared the same quality of being nearly absurd, centered on effortless gains, and driven by bizarre triggers and dreamlike logic.

Mechanisms like these were almost impossible to replicate. Even so, Syflin tried to recall exactly what she had done moments earlier that might have triggered this one. Could the Virtual World really have heard me when I said I wished to encounter Knowledge Creatures?

Hoping the Virtual World might hear her wishes once more, Syflin muttered as she flew, ”I want to find Serendipity Island... I want to encounter a Whirlpool... I want to find a Golden Fish... I want to eat Truffle Lala Fat... I want to condense seven or eight more drops of Clear Source Blood...”

The Virtual World, however, did not seem to heed her prayers. Instead, she heard the Swordfish Dragon’s faint, intermittent cries again, as if it were being brutally beaten somewhere nearby.

This was not the first time this had happened. The Knowledge Creatures she had defeated earlier had also let out shrill cries from afar after escaping.

Could my new Miracle, Blood Reverse Flow, really be that powerful? Powerful enough to make Knowledge Creatures wail through the night, unable to recover even after they escape?

If Syflin flew ten meters to the right, she would see the fleeing Swordfish Dragon caught in a vicious tag-team attack by a certain shameless couple. The creature glared at them with an expression that screamed, So it was you who brought the Blood Saint here.

After letting out a resentful wail, like a fallen tiger bullied by dogs, the Swordfish Dragon finally exploded into a pile of loot. The small boat trailing behind her quietly collected the scattered spoils and continued to follow her.

***

In the Shattered Lake Prison.

Syflin woke on her bed and instinctively stretched. Crisp pops echoed through her body. Blood Saints’ veins carried blood relatively slowly, so their bodies tended to stiffen easily.

For long explorations of the Virtual World, members of the Blood Saint Clan had to lie in coffins to limit exposure to air and slow oxidation. Otherwise, by the time they awoke, their entire bodies would be completely rigid.

She began her morning with a warm bath, then brushed her teeth and washed her face, all the while making sure the water remained perfectly still. Flowing water was one of the Blood Saint Clan’s many taboos. Contact wouldn’t physically harm them, but it triggered a deep, visceral revulsion, like biting into a steak that suddenly wriggled in your mouth. The list of taboos was long enough to fill a palm-thick book, and by comparison, the clan’s famous ”fear of sunlight” was barely worth mentioning.

Despite these many restrictions, people still flocked to the research institute, eager to become Blood Saints. This was not only because the Blood Saint Clan possessed powerful racial talents, but also because they were the favored children of the Blood Moon Lord and one of the only two ruling races of the Blood Moon Kingdom.

If I report last night’s encounter to the institute, I could earn quite a few Research Points... but that would mean another call with my teacher. He’ll definitely nag me with endless questions. So annoying...

Lost in thought, Syflin changed into a loose black robe and slipped on her crow mask before heading toward the medical practitioners’ private dining hall.

”Good day, my lo—”

Seeing a passing healer about to bow to her again, Syflin quickly stopped him. ”Didn’t I already tell you to treat me like an ordinary healer during normal hours? A simple greeting is enough. We’re not outside.”

”But—”

”If you keep this up and it gets back to the institute, my teacher will definitely scold me. Your number tag is 137, right? I’ll remember that. And if I get chewed out, I’ll come after you.”

No.137 panicked and instinctively tried to bow again. ”I’m sorry, my lord, I only—”

”Hm? Still using honorifics?”

”Good morning, No.222.”