The Sorcerer's Handbook

”Is it freedom you’re after? Revenge? Or... do you just enjoy standing against the whole world?”

For a brief moment, Syflin thought she saw a strange glint flash in Ashe’s pitch-black eyes. She had only ever seen that look once before, in her teacher’s eyes, the gaze of someone who longed to watch the world burn.

Almost as quickly, Ashe slipped back into his familiar roguish grin, leaving Syflin to wonder if she had imagined it. He laughed and shrugged. ”Honestly? I just want to be able to clean my ears or pick my nose whenever I like, without having to make a special trip to the toilet.”

Syflin blinked.

”As for being exploited without pay... it goes beyond any worker’s tolerance. Every time I think about it, I get so depressed that my hormones go haywire, and my whole endocrine system shuts down.”

”Is that... worth dying for?” she asked, incredulous.

Ashe smiled. ”Not worth dying for. The thing is, I might not die. Once I leave the Blood Moon Kingdom, I can start over.”

Syflin froze. ”Leave? Where would you go? And how... how would you even leave?”

”No clue. Got any suggestions?”

Her face brightened. ”I do! I’ve read about countless nations. First, I’d love to visit the Monster Kingdom down in the abyss. Then the Illusion Kingdom, where souls live forever. And after that... the kingdom with countless stars, ruling the skies.”

Ashe waved his hand. ”No, I’m asking if you know a way to leave the Blood Moon.”

Syflin’s optimism faltered. ”How could I know that? Every nation is its own sealed world. There’s no normal route between them. If there were, they’d have merged long ago.”

She sighed. ”You don’t even know the way out, and you still want to leave? Give it up, Ashe. Bloodrage Hunters hit like freight trains.”

”But I’m sure I can leave,” he said confidently.

”I’m beginning to question your earlier claim of being the only normal one on this team,” she muttered. ”There’s no hope at all... what miracle are you expecting?”

Ashe paused. ”It’s absurd evidence, I know, but I’ll leave the Blood Moon because of the Destiny Quiz.”

Syflin froze. ”The... Destiny Quiz Really?”

”Really.”

”Damn it. How do you come across things like that?”

Ashe blinked. ”No.222. I’m escaping from prison, not going on vacation.”

Syflin scowled, her voice sour. ”I’m still jealous. People like us, the healers, have our futures decided from the start. We live only under the Blood Moon’s glory. Every step has rules, and every line is off-limits. Except for exploring the Virtual World or doing surgery, I feel nothing for my future. It’s like dead water, just sitting there and rotting.”

”Then do you want to come with me?” Ashe asked, grinning. ”We’re still short of a healer.”

Syflin had lost count of how many times his words had left her stunned. ”Are you serious?”

”Absolutely. I’m not inviting you to the toilet. This is a prison break. No joke.”

”Stop joking around. I’m a healer with a bright future. Why would I follow you into a life of constant fight and danger?”

Ashe spread his hands. ”Why are you asking me? I’m only offering a choice because we’re friends. That’s for you to decide. Do you want to abandon your life and come with me?”

Flustered, Syflin snapped, ”Friends... wait! All those excuses you used to borrow my uniform... that was for the prison break?”

”Yeah.”

”And you still talk about friendship!? You were using me.”

Ashe remained calm. ”Being friends doesn’t conflict with using you. I want you on my team, but I also want you to live the life you want. Working somewhere you love is living. Working somewhere you hate is serving a sentence.

”It’s natural to be selfish, and I won’t assume everyone else is selfless. I’m not about to say ’trust me.’ Even con artists don’t bother with that kind of nonsense.”

He extended his hand. ”I’ll only ask you one thing. Do you want to come with me?”

Thump.

For the first time, Syflin felt her frozen heart stir and the cold blood in her veins warming again. Born in a top-tier care facility and raised under strict elite education, Syflin had joined a research institute before even graduating, becoming part of the Blood Saint clan. She had never once broken a law. And now, for the first time, a reckless, outrageous offer stood before her.

It was like a fish in a pond, suddenly asked by a passing bird whether it wanted to leave together.

”I don’t.”

”What a pity.”

Ashe had never expected to persuade a healer so easily. He walked over, lifted the mayor in his arms, and said, ”Then see you next time, No.222.”

Syflin had an urge to reveal her real name, but she held back. ”Will there even be a next time? Even if there is, you probably won’t remember me.”

”Then you’ll have to remind me,” Ashe said with a smile. ”By then, I’ll tell you stories from beyond the Blood Moon. Look forward to it.”

”Wait.”

Ashe paused and looked at her in confusion.

Syflin froze as well, unsure what to say. Shall I tell him to surrender? Or tell him to stay and wait for his death?

After a moment, she looked away and murmured, ”If... if I could clear your charges, or even let you leave Shattered Lake, start over, and live openly in the Blood Moon Kingdom... would you?”

There was, in fact, a way to erase a heinous cult leader’s crimes and let them walk free from prison. That method was to transform the criminal into either a Blood Saint or a Moonshadow.

Crimes committed by the two Blood Moon clans never passed through the ordinary judicial system. Instead, the church and the research institute handled them internally. Once a criminal became a Blood Saint, their case transferred to the research institute, where the most common punishment was confinement and compulsory labor, usually measured in centuries. Execution was almost unheard of for one of their own.

Yet for both Blood Saints and Moonshadows, changing one’s race required an extraordinarily complex process. It was far beyond the capabilities of a death row inmate inside a prison, unless they relied on the most primitive method: progeny bonding, such as the First Embrace Ritual.

Even then, the First Embrace demanded more than willingness from the Blood Saint. The recipient had to meet a strict condition—they had to fall in love.

Syflin suddenly realized a problem. Why do I want to keep Ashe here? Why am I even willing to perform the First Embrace on him?

It’s because she didn’t want him to leave. She wanted him to stay. A fish in a pond would not follow a passing bird. Instead, it would try to drag the bird into the water, hoping it might become a fish too.

Did the ritual truly require the recipient to fall in love? In many augmentation surgeries, recipients experienced personality shifts as a direct result. Mechanical augmentations reduced material desire, guiding people toward spiritual fulfillment. Abyssal augmentations amplified destructive urges, making recipients more violent and irritable, while falcon augmentations gave recipients an unusual fondness for insect cuisine.

Not all Blood Saints were Mind Class sorcerers. They had no way of knowing the recipient’s true feelings. They only assumed that love had occurred.

Perhaps love wasn’t a prerequisite at all. Perhaps it was simply the outcome of the ritual. The name First Embrace might have referred to its literal meaning: a first embrace. Its true nature, however, might be far more romantic, and far more cruel, than any record suggested.

Ashe looked at Syflin. ”I’m not willing.”

He shrugged. ”I don’t know the method you’re talking about, but I wouldn’t agree to it anyway.”

”Why?”

Ashe sighed. ”It might be unfair to generalize from my experience, but based on what I’ve seen in prison, the Blood Moon Kingdom is probably just a much larger Shattered Lake. I don’t consider myself a freedom extremist, but I feel like I’d suffocate out there, too.

”It’s not that the Blood Moon couldn’t accept me. It’s that I couldn’t accept the Blood Moon.”

Syflin gave a faint smile. ”What arrogance. You really are a cult leader, in name and in truth.”

”I’ll take that as praise. Sorry to disappoint you.”

”It’s fine. I regretted saying it the moment it left my mouth anyway. Good thing you didn’t agree.”

She waved her hand. ”See you next time, Ashe Heath.”

Ashe suddenly remembered something. ”By the way, I still don’t know your name.”

”If I tell you, I’d be breaking the rules. And you still say you’re not a cult leader. You even want to lure me into committing a crime before you leave?”

”Fair point,” he said. ”Still, parting like this feels wrong. At least let’s shake hands.”

He casually tossed the ogre aside and walked over, extending his right hand toward her. His expression grew serious. ”It might not mean much to you, but I’ve always been grateful that you pulled me back from death every time. More than once, I felt like I heard people criticizing me for dying without enough flair...”

”That sounds like an early sign of a split personality. I suggest getting a new brain,” Syflin said flatly.

Ashe responded, ”Every time you speak, you broaden my understanding of biotechnology...”

Syflin’s eyes flicked to his outstretched hand. Impulsively, she stepped forward and gave him a brief hug.

Ashe froze for a moment. Then she released him, stepped back a few paces, and murmured, ”As expected, it’s not that simple. Alright, the farewell ritual is over. Go.”

”Huh? That? No.222... so you really are a woman...”

”Do you have a problem with that? Stop guessing. The more you guess, the closer I get to committing a crime.”

”No problem at all. And to preserve the feeling just now, I’ve decided I’ll never shower again.”

”Get lost already!”

Watching Ashe carry Fernandez out of the treatment room, Syflin felt an inexplicable hollowness, as though something inside her had been drained. She shook her head, dismissed the pointless thoughts, and returned to the healers’ rest hall.

This had been nothing more than a trivial interlude in her thousand-year life. She could never accept Ashe’s invitation. Her bloodline would not allow it, her soul would not allow it, and her mission would not allow it. She was Syflin Govan, the most gifted blood descendant in a thousand years.

Just as she grasped the handle of the side door, she heard a heartbeat.

It wasn’t her own. It came from beneath the prison, from the depths of Shattered Lake, from the black coffin tomb guarded by the Finger Shark. ”Junior... your... Blood Lock... Do you need help?”

Syflin didn’t open the door. She stared at the jet-black, glossy panel, its surface so reflective it could almost serve as a mirror.

Her blood-red pupils blended into black, resembling ordinary human eyes, like Ashe Heath’s eyes.

Her heartbeat gradually slowed, then faded into the waves of Shattered Lake. ”No need. Go back to sleep.”

With that, she pushed the door open and returned to the healers’ rest hall.