Sorcerer’s Handbook

Boom!

The 58th floor instantly collapsed into rubble, drowning out Igor’s voice on the 57th floor in the roar of steel and stone.

Though chaos reigned above, Ashe’s attention was riveted to the shifting pile of debris.

Suddenly, his sleeve was tugged. He looked down to see his daughter, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Don’t, don’t go,” Deya stammered, her voice trembling. “You can’t win…”

“All you need to say now is, ‘Thank you, Brother Ashe,’” Ashe said, wiping away her tears, though he only ended up smudging her face more, making her look like a little kitten. “And besides, we can’t escape now. If I don’t go, who will?”

Ashe’s lips curled into a smile as he knelt and gently patted Deya on the back of her head. “Don’t worry, I’m the top of the Art Ranking. Annan hasn’t even painted my portrait yet.”

A warm wave of joy quickly swept through Deya, dispelling her inner gloom and drying her tears. At the same time, she felt a tingling sensation all over her body. Looking down, she saw all her wounds rapidly healing.

Miracle: Single-minded Devotion – Joy Sword.

Secret weapon?

Deya paused, just about to ask when she felt the heat from his gaze. Her eyes were drawn to the tenderness in Ashe’s eyes, her soul seeming to melt away in those depths, leaving her momentarily dazed.

She had seen that look before.

In Banjeet’s eyes.

In the Sword Princess’s eyes.

But she never imagined someone would look at her that way.

For a moment, it wasn’t just Deya; the White Queen, the Black Butler, even the Scarlet Dead Apostles with their death wishes, all felt a pang of jealousy towards the youngest sister.

What they didn’t see was that as Ashe turned to walk towards the rubble, the intense passion in his eyes had transformed into his strength.

Miracle: Single-minded Devotion – Love Sword.

After enhancing himself, Ashe didn’t feel a surge of power overwhelming him. Instead, he felt his grip on his sword become steadier, his steps quicker, and his mind clearer. It was as if he was back in his senior year of high school, with only one determined goal in his heart—

Victory, and then survival with Lise and Igor!

Miracle: Sword Art!

Miracle: Rage Sword!

As the secret guard burst through the rubble, Ashe unleashed three strikes, like dark red meteors, rushing towards the Black Knight!

Clang!

A transparent miracle barrier blocked all the blades’ charges, the dark red meteors stopping a yard short. The Black Knight calmly pulled out the Gospel Book and glanced at Ashe with a serene expression.

At that moment, Deya suddenly realized.

The secret weapon Ashe mentioned, could it be…

Hiding under a table in a safety triangle, barely surviving the collapse, Igor used all his strength to open the resonance chamber, trying to make his voice penetrate the layers of chaos:

“Ashe, don’t count on the Fiend Trench Coat! The secret guard can use points from the Gospel Book to resist mental suggestions!”

Fiend Trench Coat, Twisting Mask.

Ashe looked like he had stepped straight out of the top-rated artwork on the Art Ranking. His figure was imprinted in the secret guard’s eyes.

The dark red paint of the trench coat spread out like a sea of blood, the crumbling corridors twisted into the intestines of a monster, the light refracted into a kaleidoscope of decay, and then everything collapsed, plummeting downwards.

In a daze, the secret guard found himself standing on a beach.

Before him, a towering black tsunami rose dozens of feet high, a massive raft woven from fingernails riding the crest of the wave. Ashe stood at the bow, blowing a horn, the sky responding with serpentine lightning, the earth quaking with sorrowful cries, the black sea singing a frenzied chorus, the entire world hurtling towards an unstoppable apocalypse!

‘So this is the mental scan of the Fiend Trench Coat…’ The secret guard thought calmly: ‘My Mental Sect is also at the Golden level, but I didn’t expect Ashe Heath’s mental sect to surpass mine, even dragging me into this illusion.’

‘But this is as far as it goes.’

A black and silver Gospel Book appeared before the secret guard. He raised his hand and gently tapped the cover.

Ding ding ding…

As the beautiful Gospel descended, the stormy sky gradually cleared, becoming a vast expanse of blue under the bright sunlight. The once-trembling, crumbling earth stabilized, blooming with spring flowers and lush green trees.

The sound of the horn was gradually replaced by the holy resonance of the Gospel, pacifying the tsunami and purifying the black sea. Even Ashe’s phantom knelt in penitence, dissolving in the sacred redemption of the Gospel.

The secret guard was unsurprised by this. It was the Empress Yisuo’s envoy, a follower of the Omniscient Weaver. Under the protection of the great Gospel, nothing in the world could stand against it.

All evil would be dissolved by the Gospel, all harm neutralized by its power.

For at this moment, it represented the will of the Gospel… Wait?

The secret guard realized it hadn’t escaped the illusion.

Moreover, although Ashe’s phantom had vanished, the raft he was on remained in the sea.

And on the raft was a slender figure.

As the raft drew closer to the beach, the secret guard struggled to maintain its calm and detached demeanor, even its armor began to tremble. When the raft finally beached, the secret guard, forgetting its vow of secrecy, spoke in a trembling voice:

“Your Majesty the Empress?”

But it quickly shook its head, stepping back hurriedly. “No, you’re not the Empress. Who are you?”

“I’m certainly not that old witch.”

The Black Witch stepped off the raft, her bare feet sinking into the soft sand. “As for who I am, can’t you guess? Aren’t you here to find me?”

The secret guard clutched the Gospel Book tightly, as if it could lend more authority to its words. “But you can’t be Princess Lise Deya. The Armored Sanctification isn’t complete, she wouldn’t… I understand now, you’re one of the spirit manifestations of the Bewitching Princess!”

“Bewitching Princess… ha ha…”

The Black Witch laughed. “Did the old witch tell you that, or are you just deceiving yourself? Never mind, let’s not talk about that wretched old woman. But here I am, revealing myself to you, and yet you won’t even take off your helmet? —”

“—My dear aunt.”

The secret guard instinctively touched her face.

The Black Knight’s helmet, which had concealed her appearance since adulthood, and the mask she hadn’t removed in over a decade, were now gone. As the sunlight directly hit her face and the wind brushed against her skin, she felt a profound sense of unfamiliarity.

When you’ve been hidden within armor for over ten years, the sunlight feels like the sun’s tongue licking you, and the wind feels like a demon caressing your skin.

The Black Witch and the Black Knight, different in age, identity, and status, yet they shared the exact same appearance.

“No wonder the old witch made you wear helmets.”

The Black Witch looked at the secret guard, whose face was identical to her own. Her tone was a mix of mockery and pity: “Seeing a bunch of people who look exactly like you is just too disgusting.”