Chapter 34: Chapter 21: Whereabouts
Black Fruit Rainforest.
A small grove.
Night had fallen long ago. At the foot of a hill about two kilometers from the Spring of Enlightenment, the moonlight was faint. A rustling sound emerged from the darkness, and on a patch of pitted ground, small clumps of dirt periodically pushed their way to the surface.
A few minutes later, a small, dirt-caked flower rose up as if on a lift. A closer look revealed a pair of dark eyes beneath the soil—it was a head pushing it up.
Sean quietly surveyed his surroundings, taking in every sound. Once he confirmed it was safe, he slowly climbed out and greedily gulped down several mouthfuls of fresh air.
The faint scent of blood still lingered in the woods, a sign that the danger had not yet passed.
He couldn’t leave just yet.
News of Vincent and his team’s annihilation had spread much faster than he’d expected. Barely ten hours had passed before Elvire received the message, which meant the Florist Family likely knew as well. If he left now, he might walk right into the sights of their main force.
The main problem was that he didn’t know which direction they would come from.
He had to wait.
Sean had time. He was in no hurry.
Besides, he needed a quiet place.
He hadn’t just been lying in the hole, waiting idly.
Becoming a Wizard for the first time... no, ’re-becoming’ was a more fitting term. In re-becoming a Wizard, there were many things he needed to readjust to, like his living habits—eating only two meals a day and maintaining a slight hunger made it easier to enter a state of Meditation.
And then there was new Magic.
In his past life, his greatest strength had been the Truth Technique, but that didn’t mean it was the only technique he knew.
In the Era of Polymath, the variety of Magic was immense. Natural elements like fire and ice were merely some of the more common types of Magic, not the entirety. There were also Puppet dolls, chess, pianos and violins, abstract works of art, and more.
Someone had once used their Magic Power as a brush to create a painting that concealed a Great Magic Array. Once activated, it could plunge an entire city into absolute darkness, dulling the senses of enemies. Their Spell chants would be half a beat too slow, because they couldn’t even hear their own voices immediately, and their eyes would be rendered useless, unable to see a thing.
But contrary to its dark and viscous effect, the painting had a beautiful and fitting name: "Starless Sky."
Of course, this wasn’t what Sean planned to learn.
He couldn’t learn it with his current 1.5 Lak of Magic Power anyway.
He was preparing to work on a small, highly practical spell perfect for the darkness—the Invisibility Spell.
The Basic-level Invisibility Spell that a Tier One could learn had a rather obvious flaw. In the daylight, it could take on a shimmering, transparent hue, making one look like a human-shaped bubble—very tempting to poke. But if used at night in low light, combined with the Silence Spell to eliminate the sounds of breathing and footsteps, it would be almost impossible to detect without special means.
Another Magic was "Light as a Feather." As the name implied, it could make a person’s body lighter, and was mostly used for travel or escape. In a pinch, it could also be used on an enemy, then combined with a Wind Spell to send them packing.
These small Magic spells weren’t difficult for Sean to learn, and the Spells were even simpler—
"Nuomi Wuyadi"—Invisibility Spell.
"Pessosende"—Light as a Feather.
"Unites Sajir"—Wind Spell.
"Vigresand"—Silent.
For an ordinary Wizard, the difficulty of these spells lay in the circulation of Magic Power and the pronunciation of the Old Tongue. But Sean had already practiced the former countless times in his dreams—no rookie Wizard was more experienced than him. As for the latter, Sean couldn’t be more familiar with it. As one of the settings in his own novel, he knew every syllable of the Old Tongue perfectly.
Sean mastered all four Magic spells in a single night.
When day came, he "dug his own grave" again and buried himself back in the earth.
His food came from that group of Witch Hunters—after killing them, Sean had looted their bags.
And you know, those bastards ate pretty well. It was all military rations, rich in fat. Heated up over a fire, they tasted better than what most restaurant chefs could make.
He didn’t touch the Witch Hunters’ phones, fearing they might have trackers. Besides, he didn’t know the passwords to unlock them. In any case, they were just small fries who’d sold their lives to the Florist Family for money. They probably didn’t know any important intel, so it wasn’t worth the risk.
On the second night, Sean practiced the Spells again to increase his proficiency.
He slept or performed Meditation during the day, and at night, he would turn invisible and wander about, observing the situation.
This nocturnal routine of sleeping by day and moving by night continued until the fourth day, when the main force of the Florist Family finally appeared.
Sean hid in the shadows, observing from a distance.
He couldn’t hear their conversations, but he could see their actions clearly. They stuffed the bodies of Vincent and the others into burlap sacks—Jim, Wilson, Johnson, and Jenny included—and took every single one away.
The firepower of this new group of Witch Hunters was clearly superior to Vincent’s team. They wore thick Bulletproof Vests and explosion-proof helmets, with grenades hanging from their waists. They looked like a well-trained army. Sean even saw someone carrying a rocket launcher on their back and couldn’t help but complain internally, ’These guys are treating me like a final boss.’
’Is this really necessary for a single Tier One Wizard?’
Previously, the Truth Technique he had deployed based on the third law of Mysticism could only reflect firepower proportional to his Magic Power limit—1.5 Lak. If they actually fired a rocket at him, all he could do was run.
Fortunately, it was night, and they didn’t notice him observing from the shadows.
Sean didn’t watch for long. His goal had been to confirm the direction they came from. Now that he knew, he didn’t linger. He melted into the night and retreated, silent, leaving the small grove behind.
Before leaving, he took special notice of the Spring of Enlightenment.
At night, the spring water still gave off a faint glow, just as it did in the morning. The only difference was that the image at the bottom was no longer the moon, but the sun. It was quite magical.
This group of hunters didn’t seem to have any intention of touching the spring, clearly not wanting to give up this fishing spot. He carved warnings on a few tree trunks, hoping that the next people who came would see them and, perhaps, take his advice.
...
...
Florist Hospital.
The days passed, one by one.
And Quill’s mood worsened with each passing day.
Seven days had passed since the death of the orderlies he had sent out, but Sean’s body hadn’t been found at the scene. This meant he was still alive. Quill still couldn’t figure out how a frail, shut-in author could have killed more than twenty armed Witch Hunters.
’Could he have done it with the pitiful amount of Magic Power a Tier One possesses?’
’It just didn’t make sense.’
But there was no one else besides Sean. No matter how unwilling Quill was to believe it, he had to accept this fact.
He felt as if Sean had slapped him hard across the face, which infuriated him.
What he found even harder to accept was that Sean was showing signs of slipping from his grasp.
He’d already had people look into it, but for seven straight days, there had been no news of Sean’s whereabouts. The man seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth overnight; searches for him came up empty everywhere.
Until the eighth day.
Quill’s mood finally improved.
Because an orderly pushed open the door to his office.
"Dr. Quel, we have news."
"Speak."
"On the first of next month, Sean is scheduled to attend his book signing in Old Segal City."
...
