Sorcerer’s Handbook

Back on the lawn, Annan looked at the soaked Ashe and said apologetically, “It must have been tough for you. Qenna is hard to deal with, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Ashe wiped his face. “I almost got sunk… Are we leaving now?”

A hovercar was parked on the lawn, clearly a taxi Annan had called. The Happy Family Firm had already met its demise here, so they didn’t have to worry about modern transportation suddenly blowing up.

Annan nodded. “We need to leave first.”

“First?”

“Igor said he would stay here to continue suppressing these people, ensuring no one pursues us,” Annan glanced at Yvaren in the distance. “Once we reach a safe place, he will leave alone to meet up with us, minimizing the risk.”

A question mark appeared above Ashe’s head. “The Bewitcher I know is neither a moral person nor a self-sacrificing figure.”

Alice said, “But didn’t he work so hard to resurrect you?”

“Putting aside that it was the result of deceiving the Gospel, the more important thing is, I’m not dead right now,” Ashe shrugged. “It’s like how I’d risk everything to save Lise if she were in danger, but when she just wants to play, at most, I’d have my Substitute play with her diligently.”

“It does seem odd,” Annan said. “Igor seems to be deliberately avoiding us.”

Suddenly understanding, Ashe exclaimed, “Could it be…”

Alice pondered, “Is it possible that he is…”

The Blood Moon escapee made eye contact, already guessing their comrade’s little scheme.

In this way, they would leave first.

Igor, no longer observing the outside situation, casually took a book from Yvaren’s shelf. The title read “The Mischievous Maid.”

He picked another book, titled “The Hemophobic Healer and the Self-Harming Physical Spellcaster.”

Yet another book, “The Vase Falls in Love.”

All of them were romance novels, not to mention… why did they all have one person being straightforward and the other person being evasive?

Yvaren, your expectations of love seem quite skewed. Even without your emotions diluted by the mental sea, you’d probably remain single for life…

“Mr. Igor, aren’t you going to join your companions?” Anfel asked while holding a teacup.

“They need to leave first,” Igor replied calmly. “Once they reach a safe place, I’ll leave. This ensures that no one will be able to pursue us. Besides you two sisters, no one else knows I’m at Belldate Manor, making my departure very low-risk.”

“Mm-hmm,” Anfel nodded. “That makes a lot of sense.”

“But actually, Mr. Igor, you’re just too embarrassed to meet them right now, aren’t you?”

Snap.

Igor closed the book. “A Con Artist’s least concern is their dignity.”

“When dealing with clients, you certainly don’t need dignity,” Anfel laughed. “I can understand. It’s quite awkward for you to meet Ashe and the others again after distancing yourself to gain Yvaren’s trust. Although the Ranking of Schemes clarifies your stance, showing such an earnest side is probably too embarrassing for you.”

“Don’t use such girlish adjectives,” Igor said coldly. “And you’re wrong about everything. My arrangement was purely for safety reasons.”

“Oh, really? But didn’t you say I’m like a mirror, reflecting everyone’s true self?” Anfel tilted her head. “And I’m not guessing. I have evidence. For example, whenever you lie, you like to cover it up with grandiose justifications, just like your reaction when I congratulated you for winning first place on the Ranking of Schemes…”

“Enough.”

Igor placed a hand on Anfel’s shoulder, his expression calm, though his breathing was slightly quickened. “You guessed wrong!”

The red-haired girl looked intently at the Con Artist, shrugged, and sipped her tea. “Maybe so~”

Vroom!

The sound of a Sports car engine roared outside. Igor seemed slightly relieved but also inexplicably tired. “They’re finally gone…”

However, the engine sound grew louder and louder, closer and closer, until-

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Bullets riddled the office walls with countless cracks, and a streak of sword light crazily painted upon them!

Boom!

The hovercar crashed through the bullet-riddled wall, carving a donut arc in the study, sending sofas, chairs, coffee tables, and decorative cabinets flying before it came to a steady stop beside Igor and Anfel.

“You…”

The gull-wing car door lifted up. Before the shock could leave Igor’s face, Ashe had already grabbed him and pulled him into the car. Alice quickly wrapped her arms around the Con Artist to prevent his escape, looking like a mobster abducting an innocent Bewitcher.

“We heard you were too embarrassed to face us, so we came to watch you make a fool of yourself!” Ashe laughed heartily.

“I would never—let go of me, Harvey!”

“Harvey’s in the coffin; I’m Alice,” Alice giggled. “I never thought you’d feel so guilty for deceiving us, Igor. On behalf of Harvey, I forgive you.”

From the front seat, Lise added, “I forgive you too, Aunt Bukin! His braiding skills are terrible, it’s a good thing you’re back!”

“Who cares about your forgiveness!”

“Then whose forgiveness do you care about?”

Suddenly, Alice turned to Annan. “Wait a second, by destroying Belldate’s property, aren’t we going to owe money?”

“Did you forget we have those 6,000 bell points we were going to use as ransom?” Annan replied. “Since we don’t need to pay the ransom, let’s just spend it here.”

Ashe turned to Anfel, extending his hand naturally. “Want to come with us?”

Anfel looked at the lively scene inside the hovercar, where the Purple Moth was tending to the little butler, the white-haired girl was all smiles, and the necromancer was playfully sparring with the Con Artist.

And…

The red-haired girl eyed the Cult Leader and smiled slightly. “Indeed, a shining figure.”

“Hmm?”

“Sorry, but I’m Mr. Igor’s fiancée,” Anfel clasped her hands together in a gesture of apology. “If Mr. Igor is willing to say that to me when he comes to Mephila, I’ll gladly accept.”

“Harvey, open the coffin and stuff Igor inside; I don’t want to see any more women falling for him… boo hoo hoo…”

“Dad, don’t cry! I don’t need a stepmom right now. I don’t mind if no women like you!”

“Lise, thank you! Thank! You!”

The hovercar roared out through the gaping hole, swiftly ascending into the night sky of Mephila. Anfel waved goodbye to them.

Not long after, Yvaren rushed through the gap into the office. She quickly surveyed the room, noting the absence of anyone else, and turned directly to Anfel. “What should we do next?”

Decision-making in Belldate’s family always consisted of two levels: the planners, known as the Thinkers, and the executors, known as the Heartless. The plan to manipulate the Eight Great Families had been devised by Anfel. She, who could hear countless thoughts, had long since understood the intricacies of human nature, allowing her to design traps that could ignite the desires of countless individuals.

In the past, Anfel would not have hesitated. But now, she paused.

The hesitation stemmed from a conflict of interest.

The conflict wasn’t about Igor or Ashe, but about Harvey.

To break free from Belldate’s destiny, they needed to resolve the issue of the Necromantic Angel. However, for hundreds of years, no member of Belldate had been able to accomplish this. Anfel and Yvaren couldn’t either.

But now, the person capable of conquering the Necromantic Angel had already appeared in Gospel’s future.

Before, they were merely tools for the family’s continuation, completely indifferent to Harvey’s future achievements. But Anfel had now regained a bit of self-awareness. A faint sense of selfishness began to resist the chains of her bloodline!

Increase what they desire, gift what they need.

Anfel held the gold coin in her hand, unable to suppress a smile.

“Anfel?” Yvaren asked, somewhat puzzled.

“It’s nothing,” Anfel replied with a smile. “I just think we should have a cup of tea and rest for a bit.”

Though Yvaren found it strange, her personal feelings never affected her decision-making, and she was somewhat thirsty. “Alright.”