Sorcerer’s Handbook

Ashe didn’t notice the sudden, strange expression on Yvaren’s face, but it quickly vanished. “So, unless Igor personally persuades you, you won’t join us?”

“If you insist on marrying me…” Ashe mused, “I might consider it…”

“Damn!” Yvaren snorted, “By the way, you guys have almost saved enough for your ransom, right?”

“Yeah, thanks to the high-paying jobs we’ve had these past few days, all thanks to Belldate’s blessings.” Ashe raised an eyebrow. “Are you trying to con me into spending money again? No way. The ten small videos I bought from you last time are enough to last me a year. You might not know, but watching small videos is very physically exhausting, unlike watching big videos. You can’t tempt me any further in this regard.”

“How about this: if you don’t buy my trashy goods, I’ll send those ten small videos and the news of your purchase to Annan.”

Ashe broke out in a sweat, trying to stay calm. “I’ll delete them right now and tell Annan that I’ve seen the error of my ways and turned over a new leaf!”

With that, he summoned the Gospel Book, his finger hovering over it but not pressing down. Yvaren blinked. “Go ahead, delete them.”

“I don’t think I can be threatened by a swindler like you,” Ashe declared righteously. “At worst, I’ll just face a beating from Annan and her sisters!”

“…Don’t worry, I wouldn’t ruin my reputation over someone like you.” Yvaren shook her head and turned to leave. “Once you’ve saved enough for the ransom, get lost. You’ve offended me, and since you neither want to die nor be a dog, no shop in Mephila will sell you anything.”

“Unless it’s to attend Igor’s wedding, don’t expect me to step into Mephila ever again!”

Ashe snorted, wringing out the cloth fiercely. As he continued cleaning the statue, he noticed Yvaren standing on the statue again, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Are you really unwilling to join Belldate?”

This time, Yvaren’s voice lacked its usual arrogance. Her tone was calm, even a bit pleading.

Ashe remained silent for a moment, not answering, and continued his work.

Ms. Belldate jumped down and left, disappearing around the corner of the hallway.

The Cult Leader glanced at her elongated shadow and recalled Annan’s words:

“When we’ve saved enough for the ransom, that’s when Belldate will make her move against us.”

“They’re almost there. It’s time to act.”

In an office filled with portraits, Igor sat across from Yvaren, calmly voicing his suggestion.

The blue-haired woman, who had been silent for a long time, finally spoke: “Is there really no way to recruit them?”

“Annan and Banjeet’s goal is the Divine Sovereign’s Wish. You can’t offer them what they want. As for Harvey, even if you’re willing to risk offending the entire Gospel to protect him, he has a strong self-destructive tendency. He won’t stay for any benefit, unless you can promise him a more spectacular death—on that front, Belldate’s allure pales in comparison to Funeral.”

“Lise is closely tied to Ashe. If you can’t recruit Ashe, Lise won’t stay either.”

“Then make Ashe stay,” Yvaren suggested. “He’ll definitely listen to you—”

“In our original agreement, I had only one condition: either Ashe or I stay, not both,” the Con Artist said. “I don’t care about the others, but if Ashe stays, then I leave. Our agreement is void.”

“Why?” Yvaren was puzzled. “I thought you had some grudge against him… But he trusts you so much, why won’t you stay with him?”

“Precisely because he trusts me, I can’t stay with him.”

Igor ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you know what my profession was under the Blood Moon? I was a social engineer, a Con Artist. This profession might be rare in the Gospel… A Con Artist who specializes in deceiving others, yet is trusted—don’t you think that’s funny?”

“What’s even funnier is that I truly wouldn’t deceive him.”

“Despite the many flaws in Blood Moon’s teachings, there are some valuable insights,” the Con Artist said. “‘All relationships that cause you concern will contaminate you,’ ‘All relationships that make you feel wronged will harm you,’ ‘All relationships that change you will dominate you’… Personality freedom is the foundation of everything.”

“If I stay with Ashe, I will no longer be myself. To put it more directly-“

“Getting too close to the sun will melt the wax virtual wings.”

The Con Artist gazed at Yvaren. “So you understand, it wasn’t Belldate who chose me; I chose Belldate. I was blinded by the night, bought the wrong ticket, boarded the wrong train, and went on a wrong journey.”

“But just because I bought the ticket doesn’t mean I have to stay until the end. It’s time for me to get off. And I need you to crash this train into pieces, leaving no room for second thoughts.”

Yvaren sighed. “Isn’t there any other way?”

“Isn’t this your original plan?” Igor said. “The pact only requires you to protect the Funeral Firm. It doesn’t allow you to direct, guide, or indirectly leak information in any way. But there’s a loophole: the members of the Funeral Firm can leak information voluntarily. And as long as the leak comes from their side, the pact becomes null and void, freeing you from any responsibility toward the Funeral Firm.”

“You never intended to keep the pact from the beginning. You just wanted to temporarily pacify Annan and the others, then buy off a traitor with your wealth and use the pact’s restrictions to trap them in Belldate, ensuring no fish that escaped the net.”

“Why the sudden sentimentality?” The Con Artist couldn’t help but laugh. “Blood Saint weeping with false kindness?”

“…Annan and I were partners once. If they were willing to join Belldate, I wouldn’t have gone this far,” Yvaren said calmly. “By the way, have you spoken to Annan?”

“No.”

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Igor stood up. “Anfel is here. Excuse me.”

“Don’t use your devious tricks on my sister.”

“Not while you’re alive,” the Con Artist said. “Tonight, I’ll contact Senhaeser, the Funeral Firm, the Red Hat, and other forces to inform them about Ashe and the others. Then…”

“The nightmare that has haunted me for days will finally end.”

Watching Igor’s departing figure, the blue-haired girl fell into deep thought. When she heard her sister laughing and chatting with Igor, she summoned the Gospel Book and used her points to ask:

“Did Igor Bukin lie in his statements just now? If so, which ones were lies?”

Gospel Book: “There were no lies.”

Yvaren pondered for a moment, then suddenly realized:

“A Con Artist is indeed very rare in the Gospel…”

Vamora, in the office of the Senhaeser patriarch.

“Nona, notify the other heraldry patriarchs to dispatch elite battle sorcerers and form a raid team for an expedition to Mephila.”

The female Elf beside him nodded coldly. “Shall I lead the team?”

“No.”

Qenna, sitting in her chair, overlooked the city of white mist, her fingers lightly brushing her lips.

“Ashe Senhaeser is the key to our family’s continuity. I will personally lead the team to bring them back.”