Chapter 114: The Burial Grounds of Wizards

Nick arrived at Black Castle that very night.

The moment he stepped inside, before he even had a chance to greet Mochi Mochi, he was pulled into a small dark room by Byron and Saul.

“Nick, the task you assigned Saul to investigate Grind Sail Town—was there any written mission order?” Byron got straight to the point.

Nick lowered his eyes at the question and raised both hands in a quick, surrendering gesture.

“There wasn’t,” he said solemnly. “I admit, the covert investigation was something I personally asked Saul to do.”

“Your reason?” Saul stepped forward.

Nick pressed his lips together. “Recently, it’s become harder and harder to request Grinding Sound Fruit from the Tower. I asked around and was told it’s because the tribute supply itself has been declining. I originally took this chance to leave the Tower under Mentor Rum’s official mission to visit Grind Sail Town, hoping to privately secure some Grinding Sound Fruit. But something came up halfway, and I had to leave. So I asked Saul to help figure out the reason behind the shortage.”

He looked up at Saul. “It was a last-minute decision—sorry. But I’ll make sure to pay you extra. Did you find out the reason?”

Saul exchanged a glance with Byron, then shared some of the truth: “A wizard in Grind Sail Town has been refining vengeful spirits in an attempt to ascend. Some of the Grinding Sound Fruit is probably being used to help him stay sane.”

“Some of it?” Nick immediately caught the wording.

“The townsfolk are also trading Grinding Sound Fruit to barbarians in exchange for safety.”

Nick’s previously expressionless face showed a hint of puzzlement. “Barbarians? Why would barbarians want Grinding Sound Fruit?”

“Do barbarians use Grinding Sound Fruit to maintain sanity?” Saul countered.

“No,” Nick shook his head. “Barbarians thrive on madness. Even their priests rely on their own methods to remain lucid.”

Then why would they want Grinding Sound Fruit? Or… were the barbarians just a cover?

As Saul furrowed his brow in thought, Nick lowered his gaze again and remained silent.

Byron suddenly asked from the side, “What made you leave halfway?”

Nick glanced at him but didn’t hide the truth. “My father passed away. My family called me back to sign the waiver on my inheritance rights.”

It was a perfectly reasonable excuse and easy to verify, making it hard for Saul to conclude whether Nick left on purpose.

The room fell silent for a moment.

Noticing the mood, Nick spread his hands. “I’m not grieving. No need to worry.”

Byron suddenly stood. “In that case, when we return to the Tower, you’ll transfer the appropriate payment to Saul.”

Nick immediately replied, “No problem. Though, one of the rewards isn’t claimable by a First Rank apprentice. I can offer a substitute—”

“No need, Senior Nick,” Saul raised his hand. “During the fight with the barbarians in Grind Sail Town, I had no choice but to ascend to Second Rank.”

Nick opened his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat.

After a moment of silence, he placed a hand over his chest. “I’m not surprised.”

He paused, then pressed harder. “I’m not jealous.”

“Then it’s settled!” Byron finalized. “Pack up tonight. We head out for Hanging Hands Valley tomorrow.”

With that, he turned to leave, only to come back midway and escort both Saul and Nick out of the room.

That night, Saul lay in his long, coffin-like room on a narrow bed barely wide enough to turn over, thinking about Nick’s words from earlier.

From what Nick said, the mission might truly have been a spontaneous decision.

After all, his reason for leaving was quite solid.

But when Saul mentioned the barbarian destruction of Grind Sail Town’s fields, Nick hadn’t shown the concern one might expect.

This reaction didn’t quite match his apparent concern over the Grinding Sound Fruit.

Even if Nick was an extremely emotionally reserved person, his level of concern about the fruit seemed to shift too drastically.

Was Nick trying to convey something through this Grinding Sound Fruit incident?

He closed his eyes, and faces flashed through his mind…

—

The next morning, the three of them rose early and bade farewell to the warden of Black Castle.

They didn’t ride the cramped wizard tower carriage this time, but instead used the local Black Castle mode of travel—a Wooden Spider.

When Saul saw the Wooden Spider, he thought he was looking at a giant RV with eight legs.

They were headed to Hanging Hands Valley, a place where multiple wizard factions once fought. A place where ordinary people dared not even approach. Wizards going there didn’t bring servants.

For such trips, large magical transportation tools like the Wooden Spider were most commonly used.

Though you still had to be careful driving it—damaging one of these things would be painfully expensive.

Saul hauled down his full set of soul research tools from the carriage.

Nick brought a bundle of straps from an inductive chair and some metal rings.

Byron had a collection of strange components and a few special flasks—soul flasks used to store malevolent spirits.

To physical bodies, soul flasks were fragile, but to spirits, they were near unbreakable.

Any ordinary wraith or vengeful spirit caught inside would find escape nearly impossible.

This mission, Saul and Nick were tagging along to help Byron capture wraith.

And, while they were at it, maybe do a bit of personal research too.

The three of them seemed to have forgotten the previous night’s small disagreement and were working together in harmony.

Hanging Hands Valley—once a battlefield of wizards, now their burial ground.

The reason for the war was long lost to time, but it was known that so many wizards died in that war that the western region of the Northern Continent was nearly purged of wizard factions.

For a while, you couldn’t even find a single Second Rank wizard in the western region.

But that vacuum didn’t last long. Factions from the Eastern Region of Northern Continent and even the Southern Continent quickly set their eyes on the area.

After a wave of overt and covert struggle, new wizard forces settled in the west.

Among them was Gorsa’s Wizard Tower. Which was strongest.

As a result, the tower’s wizards held significant power over the entire western wizarding world.

So long as they didn’t court death, Saul and the others could basically walk around the region with impunity.

Inside the Wooden Spider, the three steadily approached the entrance of Hanging Hands Valley.

“Hanging Hands Valley also happens to be the entry point to the western region’s Wastelands. Since the war here, that passage into the unclaimed territory has been sealed,” Byron said as he pointed out the destination.

“The Wastelands?” Saul had heard of the name in his Omniscience class, though only in passing.

“Yeah. Even official wizards have to be extremely cautious there,” Nick added. “I’ve only ever heard vague mentions.”

“Better not go there anyway,” Byron said, closing the topic.

The Wooden Spider finally reached the edge of Hanging Hands Valley and began its descent.

Saul couldn’t imagine what the valley once looked like, but its entrance now resembled a massive, steep slide.

Chunks of loose rock cascaded like a waterfall down from the plateau where they stood.

The slope was nearly seventy degrees—like a person collapsed against a wall, their arms dangling limply.

On such a slope, a regular carriage would be useless. But the eight-legged Wooden Spider could climb up and down like a real spider.

Its cabin could even auto-adjust to stay level, ensuring the passengers didn’t get thrown around.

As it steadily descended, Saul saw a valley nestled between two towering peaks.

A gust of wind blew through, carrying the long-faded scent of blood.

The temperature in the cabin dropped as they went lower. Saul instinctively tugged at his sleeves.

“No need to be nervous,” Nick reassured him. “The deep interior is where the real battle took place. We’ll only be capturing spirits at the outskirts—nothing too dangerous.”

Byron, looking out the window for a suitable campsite, nodded in agreement.

Saul, however, stole a glance at his journal.

The moment they entered the valley, he’d felt a tingling all over his body.

As if countless unseen eyes were watching him.

“Must be…” He tugged at his collar, trying to breathe easier. “Just my imagination, right?”

(End of Chapter)

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