Sorcerer’s Handbook

In Kaimon City, within the opulent hallways of the Sin Hunter’s Hall, Deputy Captain Emma strode through and forcefully swung open the large doors.

“Department head, hand me the Inspection Order, I’m going to take control of the Broadcast Station!”

Behind the ebony desk, carved in intricate designs, stood a pair of transparent floor-to-ceiling windows, through which the glory of the Blood Moon spilled unobstructed onto the curly-haired woman seated in the red leather armchair. Her uniform appeared unkempt with several buttons undone, and what should have been beautiful silver hair was in disarray, resembling a bird’s nest. The heavy bags under her eyes and clown-like dark circles completely marred her otherwise delicate features.

At the sound of doors opening, she turned off the Holographic Screen, “Is it time to clock out already?”

“What clocking out? The prison escapee hasn’t even been caught yet!” Emma slammed her hand on the desk. “I notified the Broadcast Station to interrupt the Judgment Live Broadcast, and they had the nerve to refuse. Department head, sign the Inspection Order quickly, I will lead a team and shut them down!”

“Keep that kind of talk to this room, don’t ruin the Sin Hunter’s Hall’s reputation out there,” the department head spoke indifferently. “A Gerard with a hundred complaint letters a month is already enough for me to handle.”

“Department head, the Inspection Order!”

“To inspect the Broadcast Station, we need cooperation from the Government Affairs Hall. Have you contacted Deputy Mayor Guro?”

At that, Emma grew even more upset: “I initiated a call to the Government Affairs Hall, and only the mayor’s secretary picked up. He said the Deputy Mayor was in an urgent meeting with other departments and couldn’t respond for the time being!”

“That’s quite normal, isn’t it? With a prison break like this, it’s necessary to mobilize all departments to prepare a contingency plan—”

“It’s deliberate! He’s just waiting for Fernand Snow to be killed in the judgment, and then he, as the Deputy Mayor, can advance one step further and drop that ‘Deputy’!”

“Don’t think so ill of people; under the glory of the Blood Moon, the bad ones are all in Prison,” the department head said somberly. “The Sin Hunter’s Hall is under the jurisdiction of the Government Affairs Hall, and without their command, we can’t just inspect a Broadcast Station of the same level.”

“So we just stand by and watch the judgment continue?!”

“Why not?”

The department head scratched her head: “It’s not only the Government Affairs Hall that’s silent, but the Research Institute and the Church as well. If they’re not in a hurry, why are you?”

“But—”

“Don’t forget, the real power to govern the judgment isn’t in the Prison, but out here, in the city, around us.” The department head spread her hands: “Why so serious?”

Confronted with such ‘rightful speech,’ Emma was momentarily at a loss for words, her large bushy tail drooping. She pouted and gave the desk a dissatisfied thump: “Tch, why are the Priests indifferent to this…”

“You know yourself that you’re stronger at night; my desk can’t withstand your slams,” complained the department head. “As for why, because it’s not that big a deal.”

“This isn’t a big deal?”

“Emma, how old are you?”

“I was born in 1620.”

“Oh, so barely over forty, no wonder you’re making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“So what if I’m young?”

“When you’re older, you’ll understand that those things you think are so serious, on a scale of hundreds or thousands of years, are just minor blips not worth mentioning.” The department head lifted her gaze to Emma’s dark circles: “By comparison, following the Rules is the far more important matter.”

“‘The Blood Saint governs life, Moonshadow guards death,’ these are our Rules. Beyond that, we must not interfere; let the secular world manage its own affairs.”

The department head’s reasoning was too sound, leaving Emma with no choice but to clench her fists in frustration, her fluffy tail standing on end: “…Yes!”

“Get back to work, and remember to close the door. And can you tuck in your tail? It’s a hassle to clean up the fur from the carpet.”

Emma shook her head repeatedly: “No way, permanently fixing part of my Moonshadow traits is a symbol of my strength! Besides, everyone loves it!”

The department head covered her face with a sigh: “The Church and the Research Institute really just push their troublemakers onto me… Do I look like a Nursery for grown-ups here…”

As Emma closed the office door, she suddenly heard laughter inside.

“Ha, this Ashe is quite interesting; I’ll have Gerard spare his life.”

Damn!

The department head clearly didn’t want to sign the Inspection Order simply to enjoy the spectacle, almost fooling her!

Emma instinctively wanted to burst in and argue, but then she remembered a Blood Saint joke the old Priest once told her.

“When the sacred bloodline gets interested in something, only nailing them in their coffins can stop them — the increased blood flow from their bat heritage causes a drop in IQ.”

So, Emma gave up, returning to her department with frustration and sat down to open the Holographic Screen — she’d just see what kind of tricks Ashe could pull off!

“Cough, cough, cough!”

On the red Pillar seat of Shattered Lake, Fernand Snow suddenly coughed violently, spitting out two mouthfuls of foul-smelling black blood. His abdomen felt sour and itchy, and his clothes were sticky and uncomfortable against his skin, adding to the dizzying sensation of waking up, momentarily making him think he was back in his teenage years.

Born in the ‘Knucklebone’ Nursery, he had to squeeze in study time between fights every day. That Nursery, located in the Lower District of Kaimon City, mostly cared for Orcs and Ogres — the sharp-featured manager didn’t have a fondness for these blue-green Races but was simply motivated by the higher subsidies provided for their care.

High-end Nurseries like Emerald Garden not only receive no funding from the Government Affairs Hall, but they also have to spend a significant sum to select infants from hospitals.

This is because any adult Race emerging from the Nursery owes a “give-back” of 10% of their income earned during their first fifteen years of work to the Nursery. Emerald Garden Nursery pursues the most enlightened and magnificent path: striving to develop outstanding talents, then using the “give-back” from these talents to strengthen the Nursery, continually selecting high-quality infant sources, and fostering more outstanding talents for society.

It can be said that Double First-Class Nurseries like Emerald Garden follow this virtuous cycle, setting an example for Nurseries nationwide. However, not all Nurseries have the means to operate this way; after all, there is only a limited number of excellent infant sources, which leads to an alternative model — subsidy fraud.

Knucklebone Nursery picks up the Orc and Ogre infants that no other Nursery wants but must care for to ‘maintain species diversity,’ thus securing substantial funding from the Church as subsidies.

The manager pockets all these funds and adopts a laissez-faire approach to the infants, since Orcs and Ogres are quite easy to raise. Once they come of age, they’re sent away without a second thought, with no concern for their potential “give-back” contributions to work.

Among infant sources, Orcs and Ogres are considered the lowest grade: difficult to educate, with low average intelligence, disobedient, and unattractive (compared to Standard Races), with slovenly living habits.

As a result, life in Knucklebone Nursery is hardly different from living in the wild. Everyone defecates wherever they please and lives haphazardly. At meal times, someone would push in a few food barrels, and everyone would rush to fight over them, often leading to racial brawls. After battling and accumulating injuries, they would simply lie down to sleep, and another day would pass.

The outside world doesn’t raise objections to this; the Nursery touts it as ‘ecological upbringing’ and even receives acclaim from various sectors of society.

Many Scholars argue that this approach unleashes the natural instincts of Orcs and Ogres, showing respect for their blue and green skin, and represents differentiated quality education tailored to individual characteristics. Then, they turn around and criticize Nurseries like Emerald Garden for placing too much emphasis on academic achievements, suppressing children’s natural tendencies, and robbing them of their childhoods…

Fernand Snow, born in a civilized Kingdom, grew up in this kind of ‘ecological’ environment.

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