The Sorcerer's Handbook

Since the first four paintings were all different versions of Dia, the group had temporarily categorized them by their appearance, identifying the first as the Basement Girl, the second as the Blindfolded Girl, the third as the Princess, and the fourth as the Black-White Girl.

Denzel’s choice had been the Blindfolded Girl, the very image that had inspired her to manifest the Seekers of Secrets ability. Now, everyone turned toward Phantom Denzel, waiting for her to speak and confirm whether her gamble had been correct.

Instead of answering, Phantom Denzel simply lounged back in the red leather chair and stretched with cat-like indolence. Her robe was pulled taut, the buttons at her chest straining under a pressure they were never designed to withstand.

She rested her chin on her palm and offered a coy smile. ”Hm? Why is everyone staring at me? The other two haven’t made their choices yet. I’ll reveal the answer once everyone has selected. Otherwise, I’d just be narrowing down the options for you.”

”Do you have to be this strict?” Ashe muttered.

He turned back to Denzel, trying a different angle. ”Mistress, could you turn the sister and lover into Seekers of Secrets as well? Or, at the very least, look at their answers?”

Denzel countered, ”And why should I help them? I promised not to harm them, not to play their guardian angel. And that goes for you, too. I won’t be helping you either.”

”But if we get this wrong, we’ll lose our treasures!”

”And?” Denzel asked.

”We’ll be devastated! We’ll grow weaker!”

A sharp smile spread across Denzel’s face, as if she had just received wonderful news. ”If you are sad, then as your mistress, I shall comfort you. If you grow weaker, that’d be even better. The weaker you are, the easier you are for me to control.”

Ashe stood frozen, stunned by Denzel’s ruthlessly selfish yet flawless logic. There was no persuading her. The fact that she aired her darkest impulses so casually proved that moral appeals were useless against a will as firm as hers.

Borrowing Denzel’s power was officially off the table. They were on their own.

At the very least, they could eliminate one possibility. The odds of all three of them choosing the same painting were slim. That left three versions of Dia and one of Ashe to consider.

They returned their focus to the gallery. The Black-White Girl was almost certainly Dia herself. Her clothes, hair, and expression were a near-perfect match. Applying Ashe’s razor principle[1], they dismissed convoluted theories about secret twins. This effectively narrowed Dia’s options from four down to three. She wouldn’t choose herself as someone to die with. After all, no one could die twice.

With no further clues regarding the identities in the portraits, they returned to the core of the riddle.

Ashe looked at Denzel. ”Mistress... what kind of relationship would you have to have with someone to want to drag them down into death with you?”

Denzel responded coolly, ”There are only three possibilities. First, you would have to be my lover. Second, my lover’s enemy. As for the third, if I had no lover, it would be the enemy I hate the most.”

The question wasn’t about love or hatred, but about the person one would drag into the grave. Since Denzel couldn’t be certain what the Blindfolded Girl meant to her, Ashe remained a plausible candidate for her ”true love.”

Ashe countered, ”In truth, there are only two categories. It’s either the one you love most or the one you hate most. The gap between two people can be wider than the gap between a human and a dog, but the logic holds. It is either love or hate.”

Sonya interjected, ”Wait. For the first question, the one I love most, I already know the answer is myself. For the second, the one I hate most, I got it wrong, but that proves I don’t hate the sister. And since you weren’t even among the candidates, it means I don’t hate you either. But all five options here are either you or the sister. How am I supposed to choose?”

Ashe said, ”It’s simple. Even if you love yourself the most, you can still choose the person who ranks second or third.”

Sonya decided. ”Then... I have to choose you. You’re my lover now. And based on my personality, dragging my lover down to die with me... I don’t really have a problem with that.”

Ashe sighed. ”At least try to feel some resistance. This is absurd. My mistress wants to kill everyone around me just to keep me for herself, while my partner wants to drag me into the afterlife with her?”

He looked at Sonya. ”I sincerely hope you’re wrong. I’d hate for the reward to make your choice a reality.”

Sonya gave a cold snort. ”You’d better hope your deduction is wrong instead. If I really am your partner, and she really is your mistress, then what is meant to happen will happen.”

Seeking an exit from the tension, Ashe turned to Dia. ”Sis, have you chosen?”

Dia shook her head. ”We have no clues. Should I just pick you?”

”Unlikely. We probably aren’t blood-related, and you wouldn’t drag a relative down with you. Besides, my heart can’t take being a burial companion for two different people.”

Ashe looked back at the paintings. ”Excluding me, yourself, and the Blindfolded Girl the mistress chose, that leaves two strangers, the Basement Girl and the Princess. They look almost identical to you, just at different ages. They could be relatives, like your sister, or even your mother.”

He paused. ”There’s no more information to go on. But since this cabin already contains two people willing to die with their lovers, probability suggests you’re the normal one. You’d choose someone you hate.”

If two out of four people here are already abnormal, the other two probably aren’t far behind, Sonya thought, though she kept it to herself. Admitting it would mean calling herself a freak.

”Who do you think you’d hate more?” Ashe asked. ”The withdrawn Basement Girl, or the proud, stern Princess?”

Dia thought for a moment, then bit Ashe’s finger in frustration and shook her head. ”I can’t tell.”

”Then just pick one. Choose the one you dislike more. We’ve narrowed five options down to a fifty-fifty choice; if we still get it wrong, then so be it.”

Dia nodded and studied the two portraits. She couldn’t quite decide, but the girl in the basement seemed more pitiful, stirring a sense of sympathy in her. In the end, she pointed at the Princess. ”I choose her.”

”Three people answering the same question! I’m delighted to see you’ve accomplished something unprecedented!” Phantom Dia cried, spinning in a joyful circle. ”Since the creation of this cabin, you are the first to achieve this! Congratulations!”

As she spoke, fireworks erupted from the corners of the room, sending colored confetti fluttering through the air.

”Before I judge your answers, I must state the stakes. To my other self. The treasure you wagered is the Mask spirit. You may have forgotten it, but trust me, it matters to you deeply.”

Phantom Sonya turned to her real counterpart. ”You wagered the Water Class.”

Finally, Phantom Denzel looked at Denzel and uttered a single word, ”Secret.”

The group turned toward her, confused.

Phantom Denzel shrugged. ”That’s the name of her treasure. Or, if you prefer its other name... the Incarnation of Secrets.”

”Is that a spirit?” Ashe asked, his curiosity piqued.

Phantom Denzel replied, ”Not exactly, but it is her most precious treasure.”

The wagers had been predetermined, and no changes were allowed. A heavy silence descended upon the cabin until Phantom Dia finally let out a long sigh. ”Unfortunately... you all got it right!”

Three streaks of light surged toward them, returning the treasures they had staked. Dia activated the Mask spirit immediately. To her delight, the vibrant colors in her hair quickly faded, returning to a pure, glossy black. She exclaimed, ”It’s wonderful! Their voices... they aren’t so harsh anymore.”

Ashe felt a swell of relief for her. ”Glad to hear it. Now, can you let go of my hand?”

Dia only hugged her ”spare food” tighter. ”No. I’m keeping it for now. What if my head starts hurting again?”

While Sonya showed no outward change, Denzel underwent a visible transformation upon reclaiming the Incarnation of Secrets. Her Seeker of Secrets form began to evolve. The spiderweb blindfold hardened into a metallic ring, and her white silk robes shifted into a deep, obsidian black.

Phantom Dia continued, ”As I mentioned, since the three of you answered together, your rewards have been adjusted. To my other self, congratulations. You’ve received exactly what you wished for, the Shared Death blessing. Normally, when you die, the one you just chose would perish in your stead...”

Dia froze. Oh wow! Does that mean I’ve essentially gained an extra life?

Phantom Dia laughed. ”Which is not possible. The girl in that painting isn’t here, and the cabin’s power cannot reach beyond these walls. However, the blessing must be fulfilled. Since your original choice is out of reach, the debt of your death will be transferred to a random person currently inside this cabin.”

The room went still. A random person?

If Dia suffered a fatal blow, one among the three of them would perish in her stead. Before they could even process the weight of this disaster, Ashe’s mind raced. He turned to Sonya, his expression tense.

Sonya looked back at him, a sly curve touching her lips as if she had been expecting this.

Phantom Sonya then addressed her counterpart. ”Your reward is similar. When your soul weakens and nears death, the person you chose just now will share their soul with you to compensate for the loss.”

Ashe’s mind went blank. Great. Have I just become a human battery pack?

Phantom Sonya added, ”Likewise, if the person you chose nears death, your soul will be shared with them. This can only be triggered once. This is the Shared Life blessing.”

Ashe let out a long, shaky breath of relief. ”Good, good. We’re guardian angels for one another! Lover, for my sake, you must stay alive.”

”Oh, for your sake, I’ll make sure to trigger this blessing as soon as possible,” Sonya said solemnly, though the mischievous glint in her narrowed eyes betrayed her. ”That way, you won’t get the chance to use me first.”

Finally, all eyes turned to Denzel. Under their uneasy gazes, Phantom Denzel smiled. ”I would have liked to grant a Shared Life or Shared Death blessing, but compared to the value of your treasure, such blessings are a pittance.”

She tossed a golden orb of light into the air. ”This is your reward: ten thousand units of soul energy—”

”Wait.”

Phantom Ashe had remained a silent observer throughout the ordeal. Suddenly, he raised a hand, and the golden orb froze in midair.

As everyone’s gaze shifted to him, he spoke with a leisurely, cool confidence. ”This seems a bit unfair, doesn’t it?”

Confusion spread across their faces. Even without their memories, the concept of fairness in a place like this felt absurd, like asking a virgin for relationship advice.

Phantom Ashe smiled. ”While the Incarnation of Secrets may be valued at ten thousand soul energy, the cost of activating Seeker of Secrets is only fifteen. With that ability, she could endlessly plunder rewards from us. That doesn’t seem right. It looks like we’ve found a loophole in the rules.”

Phantom Denzel stared at the frozen orb as if witnessing something incomprehensible. ”So you mean... the answer doesn’t count?”

”No. The session is over, and the cabin isn’t that stingy,” Phantom Ashe tapped the orb lightly, sending it sinking into Denzel’s body. ”But the rules require a small adjustment.”

He raised a finger. ”First, the treasure wagered in the previous question will carry over as the stake for the next.”

A trace of golden light drifted out of Denzel’s body. Her Seeker of Secrets form instantly regressed. The black silk faded, reverting to its original white.

”Secondly, the use of that ability is strictly forbidden inside the cabin.”

A faint mist rose. Denzel was forcibly ejected from her Seeker of Secrets form altogether, her outfit returning to the eerie spiderweb robes she wore when she first entered.

The originals showed little reaction, but deep down, they all felt the same chill of realization. The cabin was not so easily fooled. The moment a loophole appeared, it was slammed shut.

Phantom Denzel, however, was visibly shaken.

As an examiner the cabin created, she held partial authority over its functions. She knew the cabin had systems to fix loopholes, but such processes usually took years, and they certainly could not be carried out through a mere phantom.

What Phantom Ashe had just done wasn’t a repair. He had spoken, and reality had obeyed. He hadn’t just found a flaw; he had rewritten the laws of the cabin itself.

1. When you have five different theories, you use the razor to trim away the ones that are too complicated, leaving you with the most logical answer. ☜