Chapter 92: Everyone Handles Their Own Trouble |
Gorsa turned to the old butler and asked softly, as if afraid of frightening him, “Is your master’s coffin still around?”
Hunter felt like he had forgotten what fear was. Faced with such a gentle voice, he could only respond by instinct.
“Yes, sir.”
Gorsa nodded. “Then I’ll trouble you to send him back.”
“Yes, sir.”
The next second, Gorsa vanished once again.
Hunter numbly stepped forward. He cradled his former master’s head and two legs in his arms and silently placed them back into the carriage.
“Master, let’s go home.”
Gorsa had sent the visitor off with ease. In the next moment, he was back in the living room.
He collapsed onto the sofa, leaned back, and let out a comfortable sigh.
As if he’d just done some intense workout.
Kaz, meanwhile, had returned to his original spot the moment Ralph was reduced to three small pieces.
“Ha, Kaz, what do you think? Haven’t forgotten all my Light-attribute spells yet, have I?”
Kaz bowed his head respectfully.
“No matter what attribute you major in, sir, you’re always that powerful.”
Gorsa nodded in satisfaction.
“But… why did you let Ralph go?” Kaz couldn’t understand.
If you’re killing someone, why hold back?
“I let him go back to his coffin. He won’t be able to recover for at least four or five years.”
Gorsa’s explanation was weak, but Kaz had no choice but to nod.
He didn’t understand at all.
Could it be that the Tower Master spared him because of the Bloodthorn Family’s old ties to the Bloodrose Family? But that had been a long time ago, hadn’t it?
Then he heard the Tower Master say, “Right—three years from now, give Saul the Bloodthorn Family’s location. Have him pay them a visit.”
“Uh?”
“He made the mess, he can clean it up. If he can’t become a Second Rank apprentice within three years, let him die out there!”
“Understood. Should I head back now?”
Gorsa nodded, then leaned silently against the sofa.
At that moment, he looked like a cloak.
Spread flat across the couch.
Kaz left the living room and gently closed the door behind him.
Then, the corner of his mouth twitched.
“Does the Tower Master want Saul to visit the Bloodthorn Family as training? Or to expose him to body modification? Does he really intend for Saul to take part in our experiments? How many more years is that going to take…”
Kaz shook his head and left with his hands behind his back.
Butler Hunter had excellent driving skills. Even at high speed, his master’s round, rolling head remained firmly nestled on the seat cushion.
As they passed through towns, the old butler didn’t stop to rest. He kept the carriage racing forward.
As if even a moment’s delay would have him share his master’s fate.
Not until stars dotted the sky overhead did the carriage finally stop in a mountain hollow.
The muscles on the old butler’s face twitched, and suddenly he seemed to come alive again. He scrambled into the carriage, crawling on hands and knees.
“Master! Master!”
He lifted Ralph’s head and poured a pre-prepared flask of blood over it.
The blood streamed down Ralph’s face and into his mouth, as though guided by some invisible force.
Ralph’s gray, unblinking eyes suddenly moved.
Then his mouth twitched slightly back to life.
“Meat. I need meat!” Ralph cried out weakly.
The old butler quickly passed Ralph his legs.
Ralph didn’t mind that they were his own limbs. From his charred-black neck, red flesh shot out to wrap around the legs.
Then came the sound of chewing.
“Not enough. Not enough!” Ralph’s neck was eating while his mouth kept moving too.
Without hesitation, the butler drew a long blade from under the carriage seat and chopped off his own left arm with one swift stroke. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he held the severed limb out under Ralph’s neck.
Ralph accepted it without a word and devoured the arm.
“Still not enough. Almost there!”
The butler then sliced off his right leg at the hip, using the tip of the blade to toss it over beside Ralph.
That was all he could take—he collapsed in the carriage, quietly gasping in pain.
Just as he was wondering if he should let his master devour him whole, Ralph finally seemed satisfied.
Or at least temporarily satisfied.
A tongue several meters long slithered from Ralph’s mouth and licked the butler’s arm and leg stumps.
The wounds instantly closed up, though no new limbs grew back.
“Back to the manor. I need a few years to recover,” Ralph muttered, his neck a little longer now, and lay his head tiredly on the cushion.
“Yes, Master.” The butler propped himself up with one arm, hooked a foot around the carriage frame to stabilize himself, and resumed the journey.
If any traveler had seen the butler driving the carriage that night, they’d have been scared half to death.
From inside came Ralph’s cursing.
“Gorsa, that lunatic! That butcher! That tyrant! I curse you to be betrayed by all, to be devoured alive!”
Even so, Ralph kept his voice low, afraid his words might leak out.
Hunter knew—his master was truly afraid this time.
After venting for a while, Ralph told Hunter, “It’ll take four or five years for me to recover. Be careful in the meantime. Don’t let anyone know I’m still alive.”
“Understood, Master,” the butler answered promptly.
Only then did Ralph close his eyes to rest.
His butler had never once disappointed him.
“Just wait… wait until I recover… wait until I retrieve the diary… I won’t let them off!”
……
Neither Gorsa nor Kaz kept a constant watch on Saul’s progress.
They seemed absolutely certain that Saul would become a Second Rank apprentice within three years.
And Saul, completely unaware of this expectation, managed—through sheer persistence—to raise his magic power to 45 joules after two years.
He had also finished analyzing the construction framework for a First Rank spell. He could advance at any moment.
But Senior Byron advised him to hold off until he reached 50 joules before starting First Rank spells.
Saul decided to trust the advice of someone more experienced and kept holding back, refraining from practicing First Rank magic just yet.
Raising his magic power from 14 to 45 joules hadn’t been as smooth as Saul had imagined.
In fact, looking back, the process was full of bitter, tearful memories.
His progress often hit inexplicable plateaus, where further meditation failed to increase his power.
He asked around—others had similar experiences, but rarely as frequently or severely as him.
To make matters worse, Keli never got stuck at all!
She had already advanced to Second Rank three months ago.
That day, she ran excitedly to Saul to show off and “kindly” informed him that she had taken one of two adjacent rooms on the 12th floor, waiting for him to advance so they could be neighbors again.
Even though he hadn’t advanced yet, Saul had made a lot of valuable progress over the past two years.
With Little Algae’s help and the safety net of the diary, he had successfully optimized the plastic bone formula, updated his left hand, and used the improved version to rebuild his right hand as well.
Yes—once he confirmed the design wouldn’t impact dexterity, Saul didn’t hesitate to melt down his right hand too!
Now both his hands were pale gray, smooth and delicate, slightly translucent, with visible bones inside.
And his sculpting and molding skills had improved significantly—the new hands looked like plaster casts from an art studio, even a bit elegant.
These hands not only gave Saul two big boosts in magic power, but after infusing them with soul fragments, they unlocked a new ability: Spirit Resin Control.
This allowed Saul to cast Zero Tier Dark-attribute spells almost without adjusting his mental focus. Casting them became as easy and natural as waving his hand.
Not only that—this time, Saul specifically found a way to solve the hands’ vulnerability to electricity. He drew a set of symmetrical, interactive rune formations on the bones to resist electric fields.
Now, with a pair of insulated gloves over them, he was basically shockproof!
(End of Chapter)