"Nope," said Charles, "but his Chapters are too short."
"A full-ti author, and he only updates one or two Chapters a day. What’s up with that?"
Sean argued, "Writing a story is hard work. It’s not as easy as you think."
It was a bit like Magic, actually. Magic Power consud body cells, while writing consud brain cells.
"Hard work? What’s so hard about it?" Charles said, completely self-righteous. "He’s a novelist. Doesn’t he just have to keep his head down and churn out words? We readers are the ones who have a lot more to think about."
Sean: "?"
"So, is it you or not?" Charles asked.
Sean denied it outright. "It’s not."
Charles was suspicious. "Really not?"
"Absolutely not." Sean changed the subject. "Do you know what the condition is to enter the first level of the Hall of Truth?"
"You want to enter the Holy Sanctuary?" Charles gave him a slightly odd look, then pointed to the center of the plaza. "See? There’s a statue over there. Go touch it and you’ll find out."
There were no specific criteria for entering the Hall of Truth. That was why neither Ellyia nor Elise had ntioned it; their word didn’t matter. One had to be acknowledged by that statue.
If the statue agreed, it would transport you into the Holy Sanctuary. If, however, it deed you unworthy, you would be imdiately repelled. Like this—
As Charles was speaking, a spinning figure suddenly flew out from the center of the plaza. The Wizards gathered around the statue skillfully cleared a space, allowing him to fall neatly to the ground. He scrambled up, looking disheveled, and shouted resentfully, "You just wait! I’ll be back!"
Charles didn’t seem surprised in the slightest. Without even sparing the man a glance, he continued, "I suggest you wait until you’re Tier Two before you try. Don’t go looking for trouble."
Although no one knew the statue’s operating chanism, it had existed in the Imaginary Number Space for so many years that people had more or less figured out a few things—so far, the lowest-ranked Wizards who could enter the Holy Sanctuary were at least Tier Two.
In other words, only Wizards at Tier Two or above had a chance of being acknowledged by the statue.
Sean gazed at the statue. Its face was blurred, as if eroded by ti, yet the more he looked, the more familiar it seed. He couldn’t help but ask, "Whose statue is this?"
"Carl Black, of course."
Sean: "..."
’Of course. It’s again.’
’In that case, no ti like the present.’
After a mont of consideration, Sean walked straight toward the statue.
Charles froze for a second, then shouted at his back, "Hey, don’t do this to yourself! You’ll get hurt!"
The Imaginary Number Space was a Spiritual Domain. Getting injured here would directly affect a Wizard’s soul.
They were all Newborns, and Charles genuinely didn’t want to see Sean get hurt. ’Even if he has to get hurt, he should at least wait until I learn how to make the Soul Healing Potion! At the very least, I could make so money off it, right?’
However, what happened next was far beyond his expectations.
Many people were gathered around the statue, but few actually tried to get its acknowledgnt. After all, there was a price to pay. Many Wizards were in a state of indecision, wanting to touch it but not daring to. When they saw Sean approach, they tacitly cleared a path for him. If they weren’t going to try, they shouldn’t block soone else.
And once the path was made, it didn’t close up again.
Because Sean would be back soon, just like that other guy.
Clearly, while everyone was polite enough, none of them actually thought Sean would succeed.
Mainly, Sean was an unfamiliar face, and his Spirit Body’s aura wasn’t strong. He seed to be only Tier One—most likely an arrogant newcor.
They wouldn’t mock Sean; they had all been young and impetuous once. At least half of the people present had received a brutal beatdown from Grand Mage Blake’s statue when they first entered the Void Technique Space. They’d learned to be more prudent after that.
They believed Sean would be the sa.
But as it turned out, there were differences between people, and Newborns were no exception.
When Sean reached out and his palm touched the statue, its previously silent, gray surface suddenly erupted in a dazzling golden light, completely distinct from the illusory background of this world. In that instant, the entire plaza was illuminated, washed in vivid color, as if it had co to life.
The next second.
"HUMMM."
Sean was gone.
He vanished from everyone’s sight along with the brilliant light.
Charles: "???"
The Wizards: "???"
"What the hell?!"
Charles’s eyes went wide. He shot to his feet, his jaw dropping. "He got in??"
"He really got in?!"
The crowd was in an uproar.
"How is that possible?"
"Isn’t he only Tier One? Did I sense it wrong??"
Cries of disbelief erupted across the plaza.
But by now, Sean could no longer hear their voices.
Even if he could, he probably wasn’t in the mood to enjoy this feeling of being the center of attention.
Because the situation was a little different from what he had imagined.
It had not only surprised Charles but had also surprised him.
He had indeed gotten in.
But... he had gotten in in the "physical sense."
He had been sucked directly into the statue.
Even stranger, it seed he wasn’t in the statue in the plaza, but had ended up in the statue on the second level of the Holy Sanctuary.
This statue seed to be in the corner of a large hall. In the center was a round table, and it was surrounded by people.
A eting was in progress.
Sean could hear them speaking clearly.
And so, gazing at Elvire’s lovely profile and the youthful nape of her neck, where a few strands of hair had gone astray, Sean fell into contemplation.
’Now I can be sure. As the creator of the Void Technique Space and the Hall of Truth, I really do have certain privileges here. It’s just that my thod of entry seems a bit... off...’
The people in the eting were completely unaware. A man picked up the conversation, saying, "The director of Holkaydo Florist Hospital has been absent for a long ti. The Vice Director has been managing all the hospital’s affairs. You should all know this."
"And according to the information I’ve received, that Vice Director is also returning to his family at the end of this month. Based on previous intelligence, he’ll be gone for three to five days and will return to the hospital around the 4th."
An old man at the head of the table asked, "Have the patients taken the Purification Potions?"
Elvire nodded. "All taken care of."
There was one thing Quill hadn’t lied to Sean about: the als for the patients at Florist Hospital were indeed specially prepared by nutritionists. However, the recipe contained a plant called Withered Leaf Grass, which suppressed a Wizard’s Magic Power. It also contained a small amount of neurotoxin that made the consur’s skin go numb and their mind scattered and listless, naturally rendering them unable to resist their imprisonnt.
The Purification Potion was the antidote to the Withered Leaf Grass.
"And you? Are the personnel ready?" the old man asked, looking to the other side of the round table.
One of them replied, "They’re already on their way to Holkaydo."
"Excellent." The old man, who seed to be leading the eting, made the final decision. "Then let’s make our move on the 1st of next month."
"Let’s hope they put up a bit of a fight themselves."
"Rember, saving the people is the first priority. The storeroom is secondary."
’So, Elvire and the others are planning to raid Florist Hospital, rescue the imprisoned Wizards, and while they’re at it, snatch so resources?’ Sean had pretty much figured it out.
He rembered Chris and his stockings.
When he had seen Chris’s body in the morgue, Chris’s feet, sticking out from under the white sheet, had been bare. The stockings had clearly been stripped off by those bastards. It showed they didn’t just kill people; they also stole their belongings. And the things they stole from the Wizards were most likely stored in the storeroom the old man had ntioned.
Sean’s eyes narrowed, a faint killing intent glinting within them.
It was a purely subconscious reaction driven by his hatred for Quill, but heaven knows why, the statue enveloping him also narrowed its eyes along with him.
The statue on the second level of the Holy Sanctuary, like the one in the plaza, had a blurry face, but the act of narrowing its eyes was too obvious. And since the table was round, soone was bound to be sitting at an angle that faced it directly.
And so, a middle-aged man shot up as if his ass was spring-loaded.
"HOLY SHIT!"
"The statue moved!"
...
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