The Sorcerer's Handbook

Chapter 143: I’ll Try Not to Kill You

Freya’s apartment didn’t have a dining table, so the dishes were spread out on the desk instead. She sat on the chair that usually held her dirty laundry. Ashe had taken the clothes to wash, and they were now hanging on the balcony to dry. Spread before her was a bowl of Redflame Lala Fat Rice, a sorcerer-style lettuce salad, and a Mist-Spinach Egg Tart. She stared blankly at the spread. ”Did you call me back just to eat together?”

Little String’s cat food had been topped with a layer of Redflame Lala sauce, and the cat ate with great enthusiasm.

”Yes,” Ashe replied, untying his apron. ”I can wear a mask to avoid surveillance, but while eating, a face can’t be hidden. I can’t eat outside, so I had to buy ingredients and cook here. At noon, I just grabbed a flatbread and made do.”

”Then you could’ve eaten flatbread again tonight. Why bother cooking?”

”To be honest, the food in prison was decent enough. Lunch was fine, but the idea of dinner being bad too... it felt a bit much.”

”Then why call me back?”

”I can’t cook just a single portion, and there’s no way I could finish three dishes on my own, so I had to call you back to eat with me.”

It sounded reasonable enough, yet Freya couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. You’re Ashe Heath, leader of a Four Pillars Cult. If you’re hungry, shouldn’t you just grab a random passerby and crack open their skull for a bite of fresh brain?

In truth, Ashe hadn’t known how to cook before. He’d learned Basic Everyday Recipes Mastery from a Sorcerer’s Handbook and hadn’t expected it to come in handy so soon.

”You just got out of prison. Where did you get the money for ingredients?” Freya asked suddenly.

It wasn’t that she worried Ashe had used her money. There was none to begin with. She wasn’t a sorcerer yet, so she didn’t need to carry Silver Coins. All her spending came directly from the data currency in her chip.

”You can earn money in prison too,” Ashe said, pulling a thick stack of finely printed bills from his bag. ”I paid with Silver Coins for the ingredients, and they gave me a lot of change back.”

The ingredients for this dinner didn’t cost one-twentieth of a Silver Coin. One Silver Coin could cover about twenty days of food for an ordinary person, making roughly eighteen coins enough for a year. Gold Coins were exchanged at a rate of 1:100 with Silver Coins. After a full day of shopping, Ashe had to revise his impression of Healer No. 222. Someone who could casually hand out a Gold Coin wasn’t just a little wealthy. They were seriously rich.

As they ate, Ashe opened a video on the Knowledge Curtain titled Why Sorcerers Are Great. Such videos were common on the Curtain, aimed mostly at ordinary people not yet qualified for university. To Freya, a sorcerer-in-training, the content seemed shallow, but the witty commentary and exaggerated visuals kept it entertaining.

Did he just pick this randomly? He is already a full-fledged sorcerer. Why would he need to watch something like this?

Before the main video started, there was a thirty-second ad. In the last ten seconds, it switched to a notice from the Heresy Court.

[”Corpse Lover” Archibald Harvey, One-Winged sorcerer; Dead or alive: 10 Gold Coins; Information reward: 1 Silver Coin.]

[”Rotcrow” Ronald Wade, One-Winged sorcerer; Dead or alive: 8 Gold Coins; Information reward: 8 Silver Coins.]

[”Fraudster” Iger Perskin, Two-Winged sorcerer; Dead or alive: 15 Gold Coins; Information reward: 2 Silver Coins.]

[”Eater of the Dead” Ronna Chios, Two-Winged sorcerer; Dead or alive: 20 Gold Coins; Information reward: 2 Silver Coins.]

[”Demonic Saint” Ashe Heath, Strength Unknown; Dead or alive: 50 Gold Coins; Information reward: 5 Silver Coins.]

”You’re worth a lot,” Freya said.

”Thank you for the compliment. Regretting it now?”

”Not really. Sympathy spirits are hard to buy. Five Silver Coins wouldn’t cover it anyway.”

She paused, then glanced at Ashe. ”If the Demonic Saint ever decides to go back to prison, let me be the one to escort you.”

”Don’t bother. If I wanted to turn myself in, I’d just collect the bounty myself.”

”Tightwad,” Freya muttered.

They continued eating while watching the video. Partway through, Ashe spoke up, ”Freya, can I ask something?”

”Hmm?”

”Could you wear some clothes when you sleep at night?” he asked cautiously. ”Since there’s a member of the opposite sex staying here...”

Last night had been his first in someone else’s home. He had held it in all night without saying a word. He might have slept on the floor, but just knowing a completely naked little lamb was on the bed had kept him awake half the night.

Freya gave him a strange look. ”Why does it matter whether I wear clothes or not?”

”Don’t you feel embarrassed being naked when someone else can see you?” Ashe asked.

”Nope. If it weren’t against public regulations, I’d go to class without clothes. It’s been hot lately anyway.”

Freya tugged at her vest and peeked inside, curiosity in her eyes. ”Or... is it that I don’t look good, and that makes you uncomfortable?”

”No, you look fine. It’s just...” Ashe struggled to phrase it politely. ”You make my body... develop certain desires.”

Freya caught on. Her eyes lit up. ”Oh!”

She grabbed a napkin to wipe her mouth, then lifted her vest with both hands. ”Then let’s do it. Once we do it once, your body will get used to it. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful—”

Ashe yanked her vest back down. ”Why does your thought process work like this?! That’s way too casual!”

Freya frowned. ”That’s a bit offensive. If I hadn’t signed a contract with you, I’d already be filing a complaint with the Heresy Court. I’m not some casual person. Look. You’re the leader of an evil cult, you’re giving me a spirit later, and you’re not bad-looking either. I think it’s perfectly fine with you. This also counts as proper veela etiquette. Or are you scared? Don’t worry, I’ll be careful not to kill you.”

Ashe froze. ”Wait... what do you mean by not kill me?”

”You didn’t know?” Freya said matter-of-factly. ”Veela fluids have special effects. They can reduce a male’s refractory period to zero. And since we really enjoy the pleasure of mating, sometimes we get carried away and accidentally kill our partner.

”But I’ll be careful. Once you’re satisfied, I’ll stop immediately. The contract forbids me from harming you anyway. I’ll be extremely careful.”

Freya was completely serious. Mud cafe workers usually underwent special modifications, allowing them to control exactly when things ended and sustain themselves indefinitely. Unmodified, normal people lacked that ability, no matter how physically strong they were by nature. Even now, Freya occasionally heard news of ogres, beastmen, or even elves being drained to death by veelas. Blood Saint clansmen had sometimes been milked until their blood ran dry and they collapsed unconscious. Only the pure Moonshadow Clan was immune to veela attraction.

In a sense, veela had entered a golden age. A century or two ago, before bio-modification became widespread, seven out of ten veela were essentially killers, with the remaining three simply not yet discovered and their victims’ withered corpses still hidden somewhere.

Human rights and racial advocacy interventions eventually softened the consequences. As long as a veela hadn’t concealed its identity beforehand, accidental deaths were treated as the victim’s suicide, with the veela receiving only a few dozen hours of community service.

If Ashe had hesitated before out of some vague moral code, now it was pure survival instinct. He grabbed the hem of Freya’s vest and held it firmly, refusing to let her remove it. As pleasurable as that kind of death might sound, he had no intention of dying happy.

Freya pouted. ”I don’t want to put clothes on after I’ve bathed, and you don’t want your body to get used to me. So what do you suggest?”

”I’ll hold it in,” Ashe replied.

Freya shrugged and returned to eating. ”You’re a strange person.”

Ashe sighed. ”In my eyes, it’s your kind that’s strange. I walked around near the university today. I saw three casinos and five to six candy shops. I even saw a group of female students go into a place called Honey Snow Tea Cafe, then come out in revealing outfits to solicit customers...”

A question mark practically popped over Freya’s head. ”What’s wrong with female students working part-time? Did you go to support their business?”

”Freya, I’m an escaped convict,” Ashe replied.

She waved him off casually. ”That’s fine. Wear a mask, pay with Silver Coins, and the cafe won’t ask questions. They’ll just think you’re a customer with unusual tastes. If you’re feeling pent-up, go after dinner. I’ll wash the dishes.”