Chapter Thirty-Four: May the Radiant Stars and Moon Watch Over You

The night was deep, and Blackhorn Alley was far quieter than it was during the day.

Those who lived in Blackhorn Alley knew well that after midnight, it was best not to walk alone through certain passages. Yet, many with peculiar occupations inevitably returned home late, and often had to traverse these shadowy lanes alone.

For the local humans, encountering such a situation generally posed no danger. As long as one carried seven silvers or seven copper coins, wrapped carefully in a black ribbon symbolizing the Moon Goddess, then, upon meeting someone strange in the alley, one would present this token of luck, utter the words, "The radiant star and moon watch over you," and the other party would usually accept the pouch and let you pass.

This was the custom here, established by the Crows for the sake of steady business. After all, most residents of Blackhorn Alley were shopkeepers or the unfortunate; if all the locals fled, there would be no fat sheep left to fleece.

But for outsiders or apprentice sorcerers, fortune was seldom so kind, for they themselves were worth a great deal. Especially those beautiful foreign girls who still studied at the Sacred Oak—they often drew particular attention.

After much hesitation, the lovely Miss Fox finally pulled up her hood, hiding her hair and face, and nervously stepped into the shadowed alley. Though she wore a loose, old school uniform, it could not conceal her graceful figure. As she walked, the pretty little pouch at her belt rattled noisily, and no matter how she tried to muffle it, the charming sound would not quiet.

The streetlamps here had been broken for who knows how long; the muddy alley was narrow, and further ahead, darkness pooled like ink.

She began to regret her choice—perhaps she shouldn't have taken this shortcut tonight?

The little fox halted, turned around, and started back the way she came, but the exit that should have been close now seemed endless.

A faint sound rose behind her, mournful and plaintive, like a song or a distant weeping, sending chills through her heart.

Perhaps someone needed help? The voice sounded so pitiful, so wretched.

But she lacked the courage to look back and help. After wrestling with herself, she shut her eyes, quickened her pace, and the singing faded away behind her, finally settling into silence.

Yet before her, a figure appeared.

Someone knelt on the ground, naked, her snow-white skin and red hair smeared with mud, covering her face and sobbing softly.

"Help me... please... help me... please..." the woman cried.

Suddenly, the miserable woman lifted her head—and her face was identical to the girl's own!

Miss Fox turned pale as death and spun around, fleeing in panic.

Labyrinths and prophetic visions—these were the tricks of the Voodoo Gang, their favorite ways to torment people. She had been targeted, perhaps for days already!

The alley was likely sealed by some strange artifact. She was doomed!

She ran frantically, but something appeared beneath her feet, tripping her. She fell, trembling, and lifted her head to find she had been tripped by a shattered man's thigh.

Not far away, three corpses lay in utter misery.

Their bodies were riddled with holes, nearly torn to pieces. From the faint tattoos on their remains, it could be discerned they were Crows of the Voodoo Gang.

Nearby, several girls were bound, tear stains on their faces, though they seemed asleep. One of them appeared to have just died from the Crows' torment.

Beside the dead girl, a Crow cowered and shook. He seemed deranged, clutching his hair, screaming in the corner.

Standing before him was a tall figure in a black robe, silent in the alley.

His back was turned to the girl, and with a wand he coldly drew the anguished soul from a corpse, then cast it into a mirror he held.

It was a scene fit for a devil harvesting souls.

A wet sensation spread from the girl's waist, and she began to shake like a leaf.

The unexpected intruder caused the black-robed man to slowly lift his head. Beneath the hood, she saw a face devoid of features.

He extended a finger, gesturing for silence, then continued his work.

Moments later, after harvesting all the souls, the faceless one approached the deranged Crow, transformed his wand into a dagger, and slit the man's palm.

He then recited a spell, as blood poured from the Crow's hand onto the dead girl's pale face.

Soon, the Crow aged rapidly and died, while the previously dead girl gasped and sat up, dazed.

Borrowed life, returned soul! It was the forbidden resurrection!

Miss Fox's teeth chattered.

Was he the legendary "Thousand-Faced Lantern Wraith" Lord Bolster? Or Red King? Black King?

Many knew this magic, but only a few could truly bring someone back to life.

Of course, there was someone far more terrifying... Miss Fox dared not even think his name.

"This magic is interesting, but the price is too steep. No wonder it's called a black curse," thought Louis Stuart as he questioned the magic mirror. He found that if the girl had died naturally, she would have lived to about sixty, but now she could reach one hundred twenty-seven. Much of the wizard's lifespan had transferred to her.

Judging by the wizard's power, he should have lived well past two hundred, but the magic's additional cost was substantial. It needed improvement.

Moreover, purely from a rescue perspective, the girl had merely suffered cardiac arrest; her soul had fled, but her body was intact. If sent to intensive care, a doctor might have coaxed her soul back.

But using borrowed life for resurrection required sacrificing another's lifespan, and the deceased had to be freshly dead, with much less magic power than the donor.

Louis saw great potential in this spell—if refined, perhaps it could revive someone without cost, sparing a life for a life or shattering the magic mirror.

"A warrior who saves lives..."

Louis had always considered himself a wizard because he had a mana bar, but in truth, some warriors had mana bars too—paladins, for example...

He ignored the narrator, pulled the soul of the wanted criminal and cast it into the mirror.

Dusting off his robe, Louis gazed around the dark alley. He reached out his hand, and the entire alley twisted like a four-dimensional cube, spinning and turning.

The Voodoo Gang's labyrinth was effortlessly dispelled, and the faceless one and Miss Fox were transported back to the normal world.

Footsteps echoed as the faceless figure departed. As he passed the girl, she nervously took out a pouch tied with a black ribbon, containing seven silvers. "May... may the radiant star and moon... watch over you..."

Louis halted. Seeing her still standing with eyes shut and hand raised, he took a single coin. Inspecting it, he noticed the portrait had mischievously been altered to resemble the little fox herself.

He smiled, pocketed the amusing coin, and left.

Afterward, Louis went to a bar in the safe zone, but this time he transformed into the appearance of a human woman. Her alluring figure and face drew the interest of the drunks, many of whom began to flirt. The woman, too, seemed adept at teasing.

Indeed, only a man truly understands men.

All four of the dead fools had mentioned this bar—it was a Voodoo Gang stronghold, filled with both wizards and dud spells, none of them trustworthy.

According to the fools, a terrifying wizard from the gang frequented this bar. Yet, after observing, Louis found no such figure. The strongest present was only slightly better than the four who had died outside.

It seemed Stuart had visited earlier, played a bit, and planted some nightmares, but by now, none of them had noticed.

Most of the world's wizards appeared to be mere street magicians; someone like Helen was already considered elite.

"No wonder it's the beginner's village. As for that terrifying wizard... well, who would spend night and day in a bar if they were truly powerful? They must come by occasionally during the day."

Louis was no longer polite. He selected some of the more ill-intentioned fools and left them nightmares. Including Stuart's earlier work, there were eight in total.

That night, after returning to his base, Louis sat before the mirror, reviewing the day's gains.

[Louis lv6 (35/100)]
[Strength: 8.28 Dexterity: 5.1 Magic: 13.93]
[Storybook Energy: 1]

He had encountered six people in total; the four from the night were all black wizards. This week's quota had been more than fulfilled. The random attribute boost went to strength, with a bit of extra magic.

Additionally, Louis noticed his presence in the storybook seemed to have risen by fifteen.

"All I did was catch four pushovers... is it really that dramatic?"

Shaking his head, Louis used the energy to master the four-dimensional rotation.

The skill reached seventh tier, but strangely, it showed no change. Louis frowned, thinking he needed some practical experience—perhaps exploring the four-dimensional structure of objects.

That would require preparation, so he set it aside for now.

After some thought, Louis took his satchel and drew out a peculiar tall hat.

One of the four fools had something worthwhile—this hat was his magical artifact.

...