The Sorcerer's Handbook

Sneaking into the palace turned out to be far easier than they had imagined.

During their brief days working odd jobs, Iger and the others had done more than physically survey the terrain of Nabistin. They had uncovered a crucial detail. The Gospel essentially controlled every worker in the city to carry out their duties.

Certain workers were not underground laborers, but respectable citizens living in Nabistin’s surface city. Yet even they operated as Gospel employees. Whenever they were on the clock, their work was purely efficient, robotic, and entirely devoid of personal emotion.

If ordinary surface workers were automated by the Gospel, it stood to reason that the palace servants were automated too. There was still a slight catch. The imperial family might hold onto old-fashioned traditions. Rich nobles often believed that real human servants were more prestigious, that imperial service should never be outsourced, or that serving the Isa family was a privilege meant to be felt.

Nevertheless, the crude plan had been a desperate gamble from the start. Unpredictable variables like these were entirely out of their control. They could only hope the Isa Imperial Family had abandoned those old-fashioned traditions.

Clearly, Annan had won the gamble.

During the imperial banquet held inside the palace, every server tending to the guests was a Gospel employee. The Isa Imperial Family had indeed fully embraced modernization.

Palace servants, however, were not recruited from the underground cities as temporary labor. They were all Nabistin natives holding these positions as primary occupations. People like Ashe could only sweep Nabistin’s streets. The palace grounds remained an exclusive contracted zone reserved for the upper class.

This introduced a single, glaring problem. The system itself arranged all Gospel employees’ assignments. The palace had no authority over personnel arrangements.

It was a colossal loophole, allowing the Purple Moth to slip through effortlessly. After all, just over a month ago, Annan had still been the head of an organization specializing in desecrating the Gospel.

The actual execution was extraordinarily complex. Based on Ashe’s simplified understanding, Annan had swapped their work schedules with those of the palace servants. The original servants replaced them, sweeping the streets, while Ashe and his companions took their places at the imperial banquet.

When Annan draped an arm over his shoulder and proudly bragged about her cleverness, Ashe was struck by a strange, unsettling thought. If Annan could swap our jobs right now... What if the Gospel employee system expanded into something like Gospel lives? Would Annan be able to swap our very existence as well?

Naturally, Ashe was not criticizing her. When Annan had come seeking praise for her achievement, he had even offered a high-five.

Besides, his thought was mere speculation. The Gospel employee system remained limited to Nabistin for now. It had yet to grant the entire nation the luxury of automated labor, let alone advance into something as extreme as controlling human lives.

He was simply frightened by the dark possibilities lurking beneath the surface.

As for how the members of the Funeral Agency escaped their automated states, the solution was remarkably simple. Gospel employees were not permanently stuck on autopilot. Unexpected situations beyond the system’s foresight inevitably occurred.

For instance, in Belldet Amusement World, if a child asked a worker for the nearest restroom, the Gospel could answer instantly. But if a child asked something like, ”How do I reach your heart?” or ”Can you come ride the swing with me?” The Gospel would not overstep its boundary. Instead, it would switch the employee into manual service, letting them handle the situation directly.

Annan spent a handful of Gospel Points to trick the system into believing they had encountered exceptionally troublesome customers. Consequently, the members of the Funeral Agency had their work states locked into manual service, allowing them to retain their conscious will indefinitely.

With simple makeup and basic disguises, Ashe and the others entered the palace in plain sight.

Compared to their previous infiltration attempts, this one was far easier and infinitely safer. No elf leader in a Red Hat uniform arrived to beat them senseless. No blue-haired heiress appeared alongside the Bluebeards to force them into hard labor. Everything progressed seamlessly, as if they were simply visiting a neighbor next door.

Exchanging jobs, switching states... Annan had paid steep prices to exploit both loopholes, yet the underlying principle remained unchanged. Follow the Gospel’s rules, utilize the Gospel’s rules, and satisfy the Gospel’s rules.

Annan had once whispered to Ashe, sharing her secret to success. ”Deceiving the Gospel actually isn’t that difficult. It’s just like you. As long as you satisfy its needs, it’ll obediently lie down and let us play with it.”

At the time, Ashe could not tell whether Annan was insulting him, flirting with him, or being entirely serious.

Annan had done her best to perfect every detail of the plan, yet flaws were inevitable once put into practice.

They could not leave. More accurately, they could not abandon their posts. During working hours, they were bound to fulfill their responsibilities as palace servants.

According to the original plan, after infiltrating the palace, they should have immediately broken into the princess’s bedroom. They had hoped to wrap up and head back to the inn before dinner for a celebration. Instead, they remained stuck in the banquet hall, offering manual service to the guests.

The reason was simple. The Gospel did not tolerate slacking off. It allowed employees to switch back to manual service, but it never returned their freedom.

Even an ordinary boss would occasionally step into the office to check on employees. The Gospel, capable of monitoring the entire nation, would never passively watch its direct workforce abandon their posts.

When Annan and the others selected quick jobs through Ark Square, they had formed a binding contractual relationship with the Gospel. Even part-time workers received a detailed labor agreement. Under the restrictions of that contract, they were physically incapable of doing anything unrelated to their duties.

It was worth clarifying how the contract enforced this ”incapability.” It did not rely on mental suggestion, electric shocks, or intimidation to force compliance. It was far more direct. The sensation mirrored holding back an overwhelming urge to urinate. It was that exact moment you realize a single reckless move would cause total loss of control, forcing your muscles to tense up. You couldn’t move, and you wouldn’t dare try even if you wanted to.

Whenever Ashe attempted to slack off, every nerve in his body sent out warning signals, physically preventing him from taking another step until he returned to his assigned post.

Because this involved the deeper realms of the flesh that only the Brute Body sorcerers studied, Iger, Harvey, and Annan could do nothing to lift it.

To prevent any accidents, Annan arranged an extremely easy job for him. With a bit of cleverness, anyone could pass as a normal employee. Ashe was assigned to be a cake server. After all, hardly anyone ate cake at an occasion like this.

So when Quinna dragged Ashe into a private restroom, he was genuinely baffled. ”How exactly did you recognize me? My movements were slightly off, but that shouldn’t have immediately given me away, right?”

Ashe was not playing dumb. He was truly confident in his cover.

The Mask of Distortion could scramble any method of detection. On top of that, he possessed the Silver Blessing Watcher’s Countenance to dull his presence, the Gold Blessing Hearer’s Sorrow to dissolve hostile intent, and the Mysterious Authority that allowed him to naturally blend into whatever identity he assumed. Simply put, identifying Ashe meant passing four separate tests.

Any detection spirits or Miracles would have their results altered by the Mask of Distortion. Unfocused glances would be dismissed entirely by the Watcher’s Countenance. Even if someone looked at him with hostile intent, Hearer’s Sorrow dissolved that hostility into harmless goodwill. At that point, as long as his actions matched his role, the Mysterious Authority convinced anyone watching that he was exactly who he claimed to be. Only an obvious mismatch could spark the slightest suspicion.

When it came to infiltration and disguise, Ashe felt virtually flawless. No single person could break through four layers of defense.

Forget playing a palace servant. Even if he wore the Empress’s New Garments, people would simply assume the new empress looked surprisingly rough.

His only real flaw was the mask he always wore in public.

Fortunately, Annan thoughtfully placed him as a cake server, giving the mask a perfectly reasonable excuse.

Quinna locked the restroom door, opened her Book of Gospel, tapped the screen a few times, and spoke leisurely. ”Violet Iris.”

”Huh?”

”Violet Iris. Top note: lemon fragrance. Middle note: violet. Base note: cedarwood, blended with Annan’s natural scent,” Quinna glanced at him. ”You are practically drenched in her perfume. I noticed it the moment I walked close. Granted, it could have been Pankey or Iger—”

She paused to adjust her clothes in the mirror. ”You may not have noticed, but Pankey has his own body fragrance. After all, he made the Woven Festival Rankings fifty years ago purely on his looks. As for the others, Annan is not close enough with them for her perfume to rub off.”

She turned back to him. ”The top and middle notes transfer easily enough. The base note is different. It takes over ten hours of intimate contact to leave a scent like that.”

Ashe turned pale and tried to explain. ”Actually, I haven’t—”

Quinna repeated his words with a faint smirk. ”Actually, I haven’t?”

She stepped closer. ”I am not blaming you. Why explain yourself to me? Still, that little excuse was quite interesting. I can easily guess what you two have been up to these past few days.”

Ashe swallowed hard. ”I was just worried you would misunderstand...”

”Why are you afraid I’ll misunderstand? Because I am Annan’s mother? Or...” She took another step, pinning Ashe directly against the wall. ”Are you worried about the impression you leave on me?”

The elf’s breath brushed against his face, making him tense up instantly. He could no longer tell if it was the contract holding him back or his own raw nervousness. He wanted to run, but he was currently the servant, and Quinna was the guest. As long as she wished, she could pull him into any room under the guise of requiring service. She had already cut off every possible exit.

Her voice slipped into his ear like soft velvet. ”This is not like the Senheiser Building. It is not like the Belldet Estate either. Here, it is just you and me. No one else. I have already set up a soundproof barrier, meaning no matter what happens, not a soul will know. So...”

Ashe’s heart pounded against his ribs. He watched helplessly as Quinna’s right hand rested gently against his neck.

She leaned in, her lips nearly touching his ear, and whispered, ”Tell me about your plan.”