Sorcerer’s Handbook
Chapter 165: A Prison’s First-Class Protected Animal

Turning the tables!

Since Ashe couldn’t avoid the four relentless Bone Dragons, he decided not to hide anymore, even thinking of using them to his advantage.

As Ashe rightly said, although the recent foreign invasion was indeed the best chance to escape in a while, he wasn’t overly anxious. After all, the Virtual Realm had already assured his safety.

It was like a professor guaranteeing you’ll pass before an exam. You wouldn’t hand in a blank paper, but you’d comfortably skip questions you don’t know because, even if you do poorly, the professor would adjust your coursework grades to ensure you pass.

However, for Igor and others, Ashe’s status had leaped from a ‘one-time taunting minion’ to a ‘prison’s first-class protected animal.’ After all, sticking close to Ashe meant a smooth escape from the Blood Moon. They were too busy protecting him to consider using him as disposable bait.

Yet…

“You don’t actually believe that everything mentioned in the Fate Quiz will happen, do you?” Langna calmly stated, “The only absolute in the Fate Sect is that nothing is absolute.”

Ronat shrugged, “Plus, you can’t prove you’ve actually encountered the Fate Quiz. Even if you, Ashe, are willing to stake your reputation, the Cult Leader isn’t exactly known for his integrity, is he?”

Harvey nodded along, “Even if the Fate Quiz is real and you do escape the Blood Moon, that doesn’t necessarily mean you need to be alive. I could just as well take your dead body away from the Blood Moon.”

Igor delivered the final blow, “Compared to taking a whole living person with us, wouldn’t it be more efficient to kill you, pack you into four boxes, and carry you as a talisman?”

Damn, they make a good point!

Ashe, failing in his attempt to impress, hung his head low. Unseen by him, the four exchanged quick glances, silently reaching a consensus.

“Huh?”

Suddenly, the tent flap was lifted, and a tall beastman sniper walked in.

He was unmasked, with one mechanical eye. Both shoulders, hands, knees, and waist were fitted with sniper gear, a sorcerer’s armament that abandoned real bullets, requiring a spirit to shoot.

Gun Sect – Eight Sniper Style!

Igor and the others instantly recognized the beastman’s path of development. This was a fusion of the robust physiques of beastmen and ogres with sniper tactics. Equipped with multiple heavy sorcerer sniper rifles, he used spirits for aiming and shooting, dispersing the recoil throughout his body via spirits, making him incredibly formidable in direct combat. A true assailant and blade on the battlefield. Sorcerers below the rank of Three Wings had virtually no defensive miracle that could withstand the Eight Sniper’s targeted shooting.

The beastman sniper was also surprised to find the tent full. He quickly assessed the strength of the occupants: the duo on the right bench, untouchable;

The middle bench emitted a gray, deathly aura under his “Tactical Eye Model 7,” best not to provoke;

The left bench, though also seating two, featured one tall and confident, while the other seemed inconspicuous, head hung low as if constipated.

In an instant, the beastman sniper determined who was the easiest target in the tent and reached directly for Ashe, “You—“

Ah, which tea café to visit, really want to take a dump, shrimp-flavored Lala Fatty is quite good, when will I hit it big—

The beastman sniper suddenly came to his senses, realizing he had been bombarded with a slew of distracting thoughts for a full two seconds, forgetting his situation and purpose!

An attack from the Heart Sect!

He tried to move, but his legs were numb as if they didn’t belong to him. A decayed, deathly aura crept from his feet to his waist.

A sinister miracle from the Necromancy faction!

The beastman instinctively wanted to launch an indiscriminate attack at full firepower, but suddenly, two steel beads shot from the right, striking his eye and knee. Not only was he temporarily blinded, but he was also forced to kneel!

Gunmanship or archery?

Struggling to open a slit in his eye, the beastman saw a whip-like kick sharp as a blade!

Snap!

Everything happened as fast as lightning. By the time Ashe looked up, all he saw was a dark shadow flying backwards out of the tent, unable to even scream.

He tilted his head, puzzled: “What just happened?”

“Nothing much.” Igor clapped him on the shoulder amicably. “You know, I’ve had a change of heart. Even though you’re not that useful, we do have a friendship. So don’t worry, Ashe, I won’t use you as bait. Stick with me, and I’ll lead you to victory!”

Ashe glanced at Igor, his eyes gradually lighting up, his lips curving into a playful smile.

“So, you’re saying I’m important?”

Igor’s expression remained unchanged: “Ashe, you’re so ordinary and yet so confident…”

“If I were really useless, you’d flatter and praise me, inflate my ego, and then kick me out to face death. But if I’m useful, you’d try to crush my confidence, so I’d willingly be at your service.” Ashe pointed at Harvey. “Don’t forget, I watched the whole process of you trying to recruit Harvey. He just didn’t fall for it.”

Harvey raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Oh, so you’re feeling cocky, Ashe. Would you prefer to do a sensual dance or stand on your head with diarrhea— Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

Ashe flipped Igor’s hood and ruffled his hair in anger, laughing mischievously: “Come on, make a wish. I’ll fulfill it as best I can. Whoever doesn’t make a wish is a puppy, come on!”

“Ha-ha-ha, I knew it, Igor, you believed me. You’d rather choose a certain future where you stay by my side and protect me than face the vastly dangerous unknown future!”

“Did you forget that as soon as we cross the passage, you’re useless? I could order you to wait in place for 48 hours and then return to Blood Moon.”

Ashe paused, sitting down obediently like a good child. “Sorry, I was too arrogant.”

Igor, annoyed, adjusted his hair and put on his hood again. He looked at the Cult Leader, who was leisurely borrowing a nail clipper from Langna, so irritated he almost wished Ashe would hang himself with his own intestines.

And what’s going on? Now even a foolish man with the social skills of a toddler from a Foster Home can easily see through his thoughts? Am I, Igor, not cunning enough, or is Ashe too absurd?

How many times had he been outsmarted by Ashe?

The fourth time, the fifth?

Igor felt Ashe was his nemesis, making a decision against his Trickster principles: “This guy must not be spared. The day we leave Blood Moon will be the day Ashe is buried!”

Several more people tried to enter the fifth tent during this time, but they were all driven away. Soon, the sound of Goblins could be heard outside: “Team formation time is over, random teams can come out now.”

Ashe’s group of five exited the tent and looked up to see three people standing on a high platform.

“Good, all random teams are full.” The Goblin nodded in satisfaction. “Now for the blessing ceremony. To my left is the assistant priest Kiera sent by the church. Her priest team will bestow the Blood Moon Blessing on everyone.”

The assistant priest Kiera, in a gold-trimmed white robe, was tall but had a cute appearance. Her chubby cheeks and baby fat made one want to pinch them. She shyly nodded to the adventurers, her large grey wolf’s tail wagging behind her.

“And standing to my right, this hunter, whom I’m sure everyone recognizes, is none other than the enforcement squad leader of the Heresy Court, Gerard Westminster—“

Ashe and his four companions instinctively retreated back into their tent.

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