Sorcerer’s Handbook

The night wind blew in gusts, the Blood Moon hung solitary in the sky, occasionally accompanied by the sound of the waves and Finger Sharks leaping from the water’s surface.

Ashe watched everything indifferently, seemingly uninterested in their discourse.

“Even so—” Andrei asked desperately, as if clutching at a lifeline, “What does this have to do with you betraying the citizens’ interests to please the Blood Saint and Moonshadow clans? You see through everything, so you want to join them?”

“I’ve used every means at my disposal, uniting all races, pleasing the Blood Moon, all for the purpose of promoting the formation of the Combat League.”

“But this—”

“You don’t understand, Andrei, you short-sighted, weak Human, you have no idea what true mettle is.”

The Ogre said, “Exactly, as you have foreseen, after the Combat League is implemented, violence, death, and slaughter will become the main melody of this city, and the Blood Saint and Moonshadow will be grinning from ear to ear.”

“But the new generation will also learn barbarism, learn ferocity, learn cruelty, they will develop a kind of mettle our ancestors never had, bold enough to wield a knife even at the Divine Master!”

“Just for that?” Andrei’s eyes widened.

“Not just that, more importantly is… Hahaha, although I’ve always refused to admit that I come from that dump, the Knucklebone Nursery, I have to acknowledge that Knucklebone isn’t completely useless, it at least let me understand a method to Breakthrough the laws of the Blood Moon—”

The Ogre laughed heartily, “Battle, nothing brings two people to a better understanding than Battle. There is only one way for Ogres to make friends—go past and give them a good beating!”

“You betray the interests of the people, curry favor with the Blood Saint and Moonshadow clans, secure the position of mayor, all for such an elusive goal?” Andrei said with a bitter smile, “Fernand Snow, are you really that benevolent?”

“You don’t understand, Andrei, you just don’t understand…” the Ogre said. “To bring down the Blood Saint and Moonshadow clans, even to challenge the Blood Moon Sovereign, it’s not a Miracle that one or two people can accomplish. It’s a history propelled by all Races, by everyone… Only at great cost is there a possibility to change this kingdom.”

“At great cost?”

“Yes, at great cost. You are the cost, I am the cost, and the people of these past generations are the cost. We are already spent; the hope for change can only be entrusted to the future. Our greatest purpose in living is to serve as nourishment for the soil, hoping that one day, this tainted land will bloom with normal flowers.”

“Of course, to say that I am without self-interest would certainly be false.”

The Ogre glanced at the Blood Moon in the night sky: “If all goes well, my prestige will reach its apex; if my successors can continue on my path, a great revolution will eventually erupt. My name, Arandor Fernand Snow, will be extolled through the ages, and the wisdom of the Ogre will be crowned with the honor of challenging the Divine Master…”

He shouted fervently, “I want you all, you mongrels, to acknowledge from the bottom of your hearts that Ogres are the greatest, the smartest, the bravest Race in this world!”

Andrei looked at the Ogre, nearly submerged in chains up to his neck, and was speechless for a moment.

The moment Fernand Snow revealed that the foundation of the Blood Moon Kingdom was to serve the Blood Saint and Moonshadow clans, his fate was sealed— the citizens would never forgive him.

It was like being in a completely sealed room filled with poison gas, where everyone is slowly dying in their sleep, and he, after waking up, starts shouting like an alarm clock, waking everyone else. Would they thank him? No, because waking up only adds to the pain and serves no purpose, because the walls are impregnable, because mortals cannot challenge the Divine Master.

They just want this malicious alarm clock to stop.

Moreover, Fernand Snow didn’t intend to save them. On the contrary, the Ogre planned to use the current generations as Sacrifices, wringing their value to nourish the land, so that future generations could be saved.

Most of the younger population was infuriated by this—why should they be sacrificed for the sake of the next generation? What did they have to do with them? Whether the next generation fared well or poorly, what did it have to do with them?

This Ogre mayor was nothing but a race-fanatic troublemaker!

Suddenly, the stone column beneath the Ogre shot up, lifting him alone over a hundred meters into the air. From below, people could see the Ogre mayor positioned right in the center of the Blood Moon, as if he would be swallowed and melted by the crimson moonlight in the next second!

“With more than 50% of the votes, the Executioner arrives ahead of schedule,” Ashe said calmly. “The Executioner who has come this time is the Hydra Executioner.”

Shattered Lake seemed to boil over, amidst the sound of roaring waves, the stone column split into eight hideous, enormous serpent bodies, and the Ogre’s Stone Seat gradually transformed into the maw of a giant snake. He sat within the serpent’s mouth, and with just a slight clench, he could be digested and dissolved.

But for those who seek Redemption at the Blood Moon Tribunal, death is not so comfortable or easy.

The Camera Eye flew high to capture the scene. The Ogre looked at it and laughed:

“Ashe Heath, I have torn the face off the Blood Moon Kingdom just as you wanted, though I don’t think it will have much effect… It’s a pity that if I had known about your capabilities earlier, I would have definitely made secret contact with the Four Pillars Cult… No wonder the Blood Moon Kingdom scrutinizes the Four Pillars Cult so closely…”

Hiss!

The other eight serpent heads suddenly began to dance wildly under the moon, biting from all directions towards the limbs of the Ogre!

Sizzle!

Blood splattered everywhere, each drop falling into the gaping maw of the Hydra without waste. The Ogre’s body trembled slightly, but his eyes grew brighter and his smile more sinister, his neat white teeth seemingly sharpening.

“Those of you raised under the Blood Moon, there is no chance for a savior to emerge from among you… You wretches don’t deserve to be saved by a savior… At best, you can only produce a schemer like me…”

“I always knew that you could not tolerate a benevolent savior, but I didn’t expect you to reject even a ruthless schemer like myself.”

“But it doesn’t matter.”

Fernand Snow revealed a contemptuous sneer: “From birth, I’ve been accustomed to the shame of being ostracized by fools.”

Snap!

Under the Blood Moon, the Hydra feasted.

In Kaimon City, inside an Ogre’s Studio.

The place was littered with takeout containers and paint, mixing into an indescribable foul odor.

A young Ogre sat on a battered armchair, watching Fernand Snow being devoured by the nine serpents on the Holographic Screen.

He’d seen Fernand Snow before, not for the first time; he had appeared countless times in the news, impeccably dressed for various elegant occasions, known as ‘the most cultured Ogre.’ He had cursed this Ogre mayor in Taverns many times, accusing him of pandering to voters by changing his teeth, of not caring for Ogres, of not sharing his wealth…

At the start of the trial, he too looked forward to seeing Fernand Snow ground into mush. He had long been upset with, even hated Fernand Snow—why should he, being an Ogre too, get to be mayor and enjoy all the glory, while the rest had to live in the Lower District, too scared to even order takeout?

If it had been a Human mayor or an Elf mayor, he might not have been so angry, but not Fernand Snow.

Why should one Ogre live better than the rest?

He had just cast a Redemption Ticket for Fernand Snow.

But now, as he watched the trial on the Holographic Screen, the young Ogre didn’t understand why he felt such an emptiness inside, a discomfort more intense than hunger, more painful than being beaten by bandits.

A suspicion took hold, morphing into a Hydra that clamped down on his heart. He fell to the ground in agony, tears streaming uncontrollably, yet when he opened his mouth, no sound would come out.

He retched, the discomfort so severe it felt as if he wanted to vomit out his Soul, but nothing came out.

He wanted to call out, but didn’t know what to say.

The mayor? Fernand Snow? That abomination more nauseating than an Orc dancer?

Just then, a voice message suddenly popped up on the Holographic Screen:

“Congratulations, your Redemption Ticket has successfully sanctioned the Prisoner. You have been selected to participate in the ‘Justice Messenger’s Wheel of Fortune’ drawing, and you have won the third prize. You are now awarded…”

This voice message completely shattered his psychological defenses. The once fearless young Ogre could no longer hold back and curled up on the ground, sobbing like a baby, his face smeared with tears and snot, crying so hard he couldn’t breathe, uttering gibberish.

“Sob… wail… buzz… whimper… mama… sob… papa…”

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