Chapter 70

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Chapter 70: Not a Wizard

In the evening of that day, Tasha knocked on the door at the end of the second floor of the inn.

This inn was nestled next to a sturdy plane tree. The structure of the second floor was irregular, with a room at the end of the corridor that was always lit up. The innkeeper’s brother lived there. The innkeeper was very concerned about his brother’s future, and Tasha easily got a lot of detailed information after asking a few questions.

"He must be in his room at this time!" the innkeeper confidently assured Tasha, "Oh, he is always in his room, always available! I was thinking of having him be your tour guide, but Abigail took you out early in the morning…"

He complained about how his brother never liked going out, then quickly changed the subject to promote his talent, saying, "You know, people who write books are always a bit eccentric." He laughed, exaggerating his praise. Setting aside the clichés from matchmaking phrases, Edwin, as described by the shopkeeper, was an unkempt and peculiar person, while in the eyes of his daughter, he was a unique writer.

Something seemed very suspicious.

The more the father and daughter spoke about Edwin, the more he seemed like a reclusive wizard. He never left his room, wandering among his books, writing content that others couldn’t understand. In this world where spellcasters and Hybrids were suppressed, he pretended to be crazy and talked about the lost past under the pretext of writing novels. His unkempt appearance and foolish actions were his protective barrier. The ignorance of others provided safety for the wizard, but also made him melancholic. So, he wrote about his world on paper, presenting it as fiction, for those who still had an interest in spellcasters.

When seeing Edwin in person, the above speculations seemed even more reliable.

Tasha knocked on the door for a long time, with a few taps, pausing for a few seconds, then a few more taps. Her knocking was polite but annoying, irregular in intervals, number of taps, and strength, making it impossible to ignore. She patiently knocked on the door for five minutes, and after five minutes, the wooden door was opened by an angry middle-aged man standing inside.

Edwin was five years younger than the shopkeeper, but he looked so worn out that he seemed even older than his brother, and nothing like his siblings at all. His brownish hair was messily tied at the back, oily and seemingly unwashed for a long time; his short and unkempt beard showed signs of no grooming, probably just trimmed for convenience. Under the messy beard, his face looked very thin, with sunken cheeks and prominent cheekbones. He wore thick glasses on his nose bridge, lenses as thick as the bottom of a glass bottle, magnifying the obvious eye bags and dark circles under his eyes.

If the shopkeeper was a big, carefree brown bear, Edwin was like a perennially hungry wild wolf. This goth-looking Mr. Edwin’s sleep-deprived and irritable eyes stared at anyone disturbing him outside the door, and when he realized it was an unfamiliar woman, that expression froze on his face as he instinctively gripped the door handle.

"I’m sorry to disturb your sleep. Did shopkeeper tell me I could find you at this time?" Tasha smiled apologetically, "shopkeeper said I could come to see you at this time."

Edwin frowned, deep lines quickly forming between his eyebrows – he seemed to be someone who often frowned. He looked gloomily at Tasha, not saying anything.

"Look at this rude brat." Victor sighed in Tasha’s mind, "But she does have a bit of a wizard vibe."

Tasha was not discouraged by this setback, she maintained a gentle smile as if she hadn’t seen the unfriendly face.

"I heard about your creations from Abigail. They are not finished yet, but just hearing the summaries is already intriguing." She let her smile carry some curiosity and eagerness, "I have always been interested in stories of knightly adventures since I was young, but unfortunately, such novels are not popular now, and good ones are hard to find. May I have the honor of reading your masterpiece?"

The creases between Edwin’s eyebrows relaxed a bit, but his face still remained poker-faced. He did not say yes or no, just pushed his glasses up and said, "It’s not about knights and adventures."

"Indeed, it is too hasty to summarize stories about diverse races and colorful professions as ‘knight novels’. I don’t think that is an appropriate way to describe them," Tasha nodded. "Perhaps terms like ‘swords and magic’ or ‘fantasy adventures’ would be more suitable, as those worlds are fascinating because of the existence of magic."

Edwin finally looked directly at Tasha — previously, his gaze had not met her eyes, but lingered around her shoulders, whether out of caution or arrogance. His facial expression changed slightly, but even Tasha found it difficult to decipher what it meant.

"Magic, yes, incredible magic," he murmured, as if responding to Tasha yet speaking to himself. Edwin’s lowered gaze, along with his half-concealed face by his beard and shadows, obscured his emotions, making him as elusive as a flickering candle light in the room.

"I hope he is not a wizard specializing in prophecies," Victor grumbled irritably. "Talking to prophecy wizards is like cuddling with Saro."

"I didn’t expect you to have done something like that," Tasha said.

"What?" Victor stared blankly for a moment, then quickly made a disgusted sound. "I didn’t do that! It was just a figure of speech!"

"I thought demons were proud of tempting divine beings to fall," he said.

"There are many ways to tempt someone to fall! What are you thinking?! I am not a succubus! I have taste, unlike Saro?! Ugh, I trade skills, not bodies!" Victor’s voice was tinged with goosebumps, speaking out of anger without filter, while Tasha almost burst into laughter inwardly.

"I never said you did anything," Tasha innocently replied. "I just talked about chatting under a blanket, it was you who took it to a whole different level."

"Eek!" said Victor.

Talking with Edwin on the surface was boring, but listening to Victor tell jokes in private was entertaining. The Book of Dungeons was upset by this "disgusting insult" for a moment, then returned to the main topic. He muttered, "I can’t confirm if this guy is a wizard, but the vibe he gives off is similar to someone I’ve met before… I just can’t remember who."

The former great demon started pondering the types of spellcasters he had encountered. Tasha found it surprising because she also felt that Edwin and some people she had met had a similar aura.

Tasha was sure she hadn’t seen anyone like that in Aryan, so the only possibilities were on Earth. Where did this wizard come from? Was he from a gloomy mage in a movie, or a typical character in a book?

The conversation didn’t stop as they reminisced. Tasha subtly probed Edwin with many clever questions, which sounded like normal musings to a regular person, but spellcasters or Hybrids could sense her intentions. Edwin’s stiff expression softened gradually, and finally, he nodded.

"Wait a moment," he said.

The gloomy middle-aged man disappeared at the doorway, but soon reappeared holding a thick book. Tasha opened the book, filled with neatly handwritten text.

The first page read, "Tonight is a night of new moon, where a brave, weathered, handsome, amazing tall, red-haired archmage sat in the seventh seat at the Red Claw Tavern, not directly facing the main door, gazing at the entrance with sharp eyes, sipping a cup of wormwood flower, listening to the conversations around him, waiting for the mysterious person who brought him the letter, making him wonder if they were friend or foe, human or another race."

This is the first sentence.

The first page is all like this, the second and third pages too.

If you try to read a sentence from this journal in one go, even the best minstrels might run out of breath. The beginning is full of detailed descriptions of the noisy tavern environment, from the tavern owner’s newly installed gold tooth, to the old scratch on the glass that the bartender is wiping, every tiny detail is covered. If you have the patience to read it all without getting dizzy, you could say it’s "very vivid" — oh, don’t forget, finishing the main text doesn’t mean finishing all the scenes, there are longer footnotes at the bottom of each page, so only about one third of a page is the actual plot.

This is a novel that can make all readers who open the book in front of the author and bask in the author’s expectant gaze, fall into a deadly silence.

If it can be called a novel at all.

Even Victor fell into temporary silence, and between one breath, Tasha filled her mind with "…" and stopped herself, telling herself that this was not a novel at all, it was just an excuse for the spellcaster, who said wizards had to have excellent writing skills? She scanned through it like reading a beginner’s report, extracting useful information from it and confirming with Victor.

This can’t be called a watered-down novel, even though it’s very long. In fact, there is a lot of valuable information, visible from the densely packed footnotes. He elaborately describes the layout of the tavern from hundreds of years ago, the way dates were recorded back then, the traditions of wizards and mercenaries, all consistent with what Victor knew from that time period. However, as Victor continued reading, he shook his head.

"No, this is too funny," Victor said. "The protagonist calls himself the Betrayer of the Abyss? That’s usually a mockery used by people who are against wizards, or some self-deprecating humor and intimidation from black-robed wizards. The wizard in the text is wearing a red robe, and they prefer the origin story of ‘Mystic Explorer’ to introduce themselves, they wouldn’t describe themselves this way."

The various historical references in the book are quite reliable, but in these subtle yet important areas, there are absurd errors.

Tasha looked up and met Edwin’s piercing gaze. He stared at Tasha, quickly shifted his gaze away when Tasha looked up, pushed his glasses and looked back at her shoulders.

"That’s very impressive," said Tasha, "for a massive work like this, I guess this notebook can only record a beginning, right?"

"There are forty-seven more," Edwin nodded quickly, "I’m writing the forty-eighth one, where the hero defeats the evil lich, gets involved in a court battle, meets…"

He stopped abruptly, furrowed his brow, looking quite annoyed with himself for saying these things. Edwin stayed silent for a moment, then quickly said, "I’ll go get the second book."

Tasha had a bad feeling.

After Edwin walked in, she quickly flipped through the entire notebook, scanning the pages, storing any useful information in her mind. The adventure story in the notebook was poorly written, with a slow plot progression, and everyone’s actions felt stiff and theatrical, like opera actors with heavy makeup on stage. As a history book, it was mediocre, as a novel, it was unbearable, perhaps only deceiving children without much knowledge – but Tasha was not a sincere reader to begin with. She found the section on casting spells, and unsurprisingly, the hero’s battles were described in great detail, from spell ingredients, gestures, to specific incantations, each part intricately detailed.

"It’s real," Victor exclaimed, "This is a wizard’s hidden talent, who would write this out in the open? Those wizards strictly guard their heritage, spellbooks in the academy are never lent out, handed down from master to apprentice verbally, yet he just brought it out to show you? Could this guy really be thinking of submitting this for publication? Anyone with a bit of magical knowledge can tell this is authentic, no, as long as someone with magical talent tries it, the spell can really be cast!"

The bad feeling became even clearer.

Tasha finished scanning the entire notebook in a few seconds, she pushed open the door in the first minute after Edwin came inside and walked in.

The corridor of the inn was illuminated, soft and bright, comparable to a small inn on Earth. However, the room was very dim, no electric lights, only candles lit. Tasha could easily blend into the shadows. Her night vision eyes surveyed Edwin’s room, the atmosphere of the room was at odds with the inn and the capital city.

Tasha lived in the inn, the room was filled with magical technology from the capital city, making it very convenient with lighting using water and so on. However, this room was different, it was too… too old-fashioned, just like what Tasha imagined a fantasy world to be like when she first arrived.

Various frames and scrolls were hung on the walls, covering every inch of the wallpaper. There were piles of books and scrolls on the floor, cluttered items made the passage seem very narrow, old shelves displayed bottles, jars, and dried plants. Tasha locked eyes with a glass bottle containing green liquid and then saw a butterfly with hummingbird wings. Above the fireplace hung a cauldron, and above that hung Aryan’s map.

Victor laughed out loud.

It was too comical, to Tasha, a novice, it was like a "mage’s room," but to Victor, someone who had dealt with real wizards countless times, this scene was simply ridiculous and funny.

Useless plants were dried to imitate herb shapes; birds and insects were dissected and put together to resemble magical creatures, with imaginary anatomical drawings and instructions on how to use these magical creatures as spell ingredients in a serious manner. The Aryan map depicted a continent that never existed centuries ago, with walking routes drawn on it. "Crossing through the land of the Nagas? With a less-than-legendary red-robed wizard, a minstrel, a princess in a vase, a knight with a waterlogged brain, and their love and courage?" Victor sneered, "Ah, love and courage might bring them a bit of joy in their dying moments."

Tasha sighed, her imagination coming true.

This was definitely not a wizard, but more like a—comparing to people on Earth—a history fanatic who loves literature, a middle-aged person who loves history. Tasha remembered where she had seen a similar person before, a relative’s child who had social anxiety, was shy and awkward in social interactions, and appeared unfriendly due to being timid and speechless. Edwin stared at Tasha’s shoulder, not out of arrogance or vigilance, but because he couldn’t look people in the eye when talking to them!

Thinking about it, Victor must have also met similar people before. Demons with a fetish for collecting souls of artists, must have encountered a few oddballs who were not good at socializing.

Edwin finally found the second volume of the novel on the bookshelf after searching, he turned around and was startled by Tasha entering the room. His lips moved, unsure of what to say, so he pushed aside the question of why she had suddenly entered the room, and simply handed the notebook to Tasha.

"Second volume," he said, adjusting his glasses and eagerly looking at Tasha.

This time, Tasha didn’t bother to hide and quickly flipped through the book. Just like the first one, the spells and the world setting inside were very carefully thought out.

"Your world-building is very mature and well-developed," Tasha said. "To imagine so many detailed spells and races out of thin air, you are truly amazing."

Edwin awkwardly smiled as if feeling a bit embarrassed by the compliment. He hesitated, "It’s not all original…"

"Did you have any references?" Tasha asked, feigning innocence, "If you used ideas from other stories without crediting them, it wouldn’t be fair to the original authors."

"No!" Edwin blurted out, "I learned from history, used some materials… references, referenced some materials, there are plenty in the Grand Library."

"Including spells?" Tasha continued, "I thought the Grand Library doesn’t collect spellbooks."

Not only does it not collect, spellbooks have long disappeared. After being banned and destroyed for many years, people have ignored it and forgotten about it.

Edwin remained silent.

Now he became really cautious, as if knowing he wasn’t good with words, he chose to stay silent. Edwin turned back into the uncooperative and gloomy person he was at the beginning, but Tasha had already found out what she wanted to know.

This person can’t be a real wizard, at best just someone pretending to be one.

The hermit wizard theory was debunked, replaced by an image of a passionate history enthusiast. The innkeeper said Edwin enjoyed spending time in the library since he was little, and eventually became obsessed, living in his own world – maybe he was right, and Abigail’s mysterious and clever uncle she spoke of was just a figment of her imagination. It’s more likely that Edwin stumbled upon a spellbook by accident, getting lost in the fascination of it. He probably had no magical talent and lacked magical ingredients, so even with the right gestures and incantations, he couldn’t perform any spells.

Could it be that the protective barrier of the inn was created by him accidentally?

No, if Edwin had successfully set up and maintained the magic barrier regularly, he wouldn’t just be a poor writer who used the spellbook as inspiration.

The real wizard is someone else.

The question is, how do we find this person.

"Kill him, destroy the spellbook," Victor said casually, "There must be some connection between the continuously maintained magic barrier and the person who interacted with the spellbook."

"Don’t be silly," Tasha said, "I’m not here to seek revenge."

"The protective barrier has been destroyed, this time it’s serious," said Victor. "The people maintaining the barrier will definitely sense it immediately and come looking for you, there’s no easier way for them to find you."

This isn’t a very good idea after all, because of this protective barrier…

Tasha suddenly stopped.

In the distance, the Fairy Lamp that had been quiet for a long time reacted once again. The small spores attached to the carriage floated in the air, and when the sealed train carriage was opened, they quickly flew inside.

Carrying Tasha’s gaze.

The first activated spore transmitted a dark image – inside the dimly lit carriage, large canvas bundles covered all the goods. Many pairs of army boots entered through the open doors, and as the soldiers uncovered the canvas, the contents beneath were finally revealed.

The first spore camera malfunctioned, and a second one was installed, closely focusing on the large entity. It stood taller than two soldiers stacked on top of each other, and this was even before it had fully stood up. Its shoulders were very wide, its arms incredibly thick, so much so that its overall width and height appeared almost the same. Metal shone a cold light in the moonlight, casting shadows of the figure wearing a military cap on the carriage. The shadow’s arm lifted, and a group of soldiers gathered around the goods, then a bright light emanated from the carriage.

Two red beams shot out from the perfectly square head of the entity.

Tasha remembered this, at least something similar. In the dreams of iron gray, next to the Dwarf Craftsman constantly hammering on the anvil, numerous Iron Golems stood silently.

The tall Iron Golem stood up in the carriage and walked out step by step.

There were countless canvas in the train carriage.

"Could it be an army of robots?" Tasha sighed, realizing that the hypnosis that had worked countless times before might not be effective on the battlefield anymore.

There was no time to search carefully anymore.

Edwin stared in amazement at the female guest walking towards the window, feeling annoyed by her intrusion in his room yet unsure how to stop her. After struggling for a while, he gathered courage and asked, "What are you doing?"

By the time he asked, the guest had already withdrawn her hand, having completed whatever she intended to do. Edwin saw her two blood-red painted nails come together in the middle, snapping crisply, breaking something.

In the dim light, Edwin couldn’t make out what the other person had broken, but he shivered involuntarily, feeling a subtle chill run down his spine. Was it because the action was too aggressive? He wasn’t sure, but… well, there were no buts. The woman brushed off the dust from her hands, revealing a smile that looked different from before, saying, "It was just a bug."

With that, she said a brief goodbye and left the room, leaving the book behind.

The formation node outside the window was just the beginning of tonight’s mission for Edwin.

The guardian runes were very secret, but they weren’t very good at defense. Most nodes could be easily broken by pinching them, even the harder ones could be damaged with a knife or blood. There were seven runes on the sycamore tree, seven on the ground and rocks outside the inn, seven on the support pillars, and seven on the ceiling… In the eyes of the evil demons, the forty-nine nodes were exposed completely, and Tasha managed to solve most of them in just half a night.

The fortieth node was in the basement.

The basement was unlocked, but there were no lights, and dust and spider webs covered every corner. One rune was buried under many boxes, and the moonlight shining through the vent fell on this pile of large boxes. As Tasha went to move them, her shadow fell on the wall behind her.

A tall, dark shadow watched Tasha, and it remained still as Tasha bent down.

The shadow wriggled in the darkness.

The shadow had no thickness or weight, it moved silently in the dark, and touching it felt like nothing. The female figure on the wall slowly reached out her hand, with nails longer than Tasha’s. They formed a circle, enclosing Tasha’s delicate neck.

A strange force grabbed Tasha’s throat, lifting her off the ground, suspended in mid-air. She couldn’t breathe, finger marks quickly appeared on her skin, but the hand trying to touch her throat felt nothing. It was a scene straight out of a horror movie, seeing someone being strangled by their own shadow in a dusty basement.

In the next moment, Tasha spread her wings.

Powerful dragon wings suddenly opened and tore apart her coat and shadow — the reflection on the wall also began to distort slightly, as if trying to grow wings, but the wide dragon wings quickly burst it. The shadow magic failed to notice the wings behind Tasha, so its imitation and possession were incomplete, and when Tasha fully revealed her form, the failed imitation fell away.

Tasha folded her wings and found herself standing on bare ground. The shadow of the woman on the wall was no longer connected to her. They looked at each other and Tasha nodded.

"Nice to meet you," she smiled slightly, keeping her composure, "you, witch."

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