Mage Manual

Chapter 73: Chapter 68 Wish

This new Technique Spirit was naturally the spoils from last night’s Void Realm Exploration.

It proved that Ash and the Sword Maiden’s wait had been worth it.

On the eve of the vortex’s disappearance, Ash finally saw the map prompt change from “wait a moment” to “rush in,” and he quickly pulled the Sword Maiden and jumped into the vortex.

After traversing thousands of miles of sea, a severely injured Fish-Slicing Dragon appeared before Ash and his companion.

To deal with such a knowledge creature, Ash and the Sword Maiden naturally wouldn’t speak of any chivalry, taking advantage of its weakness to claim its life, they looted a total of five Technique Spirits. Unfortunately, there were no Experience Treasure Orbs, but these five Technique Spirits each had their unique uses, making it quite a bountiful harvest.

Ash had gone to great lengths to establish a “trade” relationship with Igula because the newly acquired “Balance” Technique Spirit had given him ample confidence.

“Balance” @@novelbin@@

“One-winged Technique Spirit”

“Restriction: The Mage must have basic mathematical knowledge such as trigonometry, sequences, and probability theory.”

“Basic Effect: Reflects any effect to the Caster in a certain ratio.”

“Passive Effect: Greatly enhances the Mage’s sense of balance and the ability to adjust their center of gravity.”

“‘Equilibrium exists within all things.’”

Originally, Ash had planned to use the Balance Technique Spirit as a counter-damage armor without much thought, but after he left the Void Realm and returned to reality, he suddenly discovered that he could easily trigger the Resonance of the Balance Technique Spirit.

Perhaps it was because he mastered all the basic mathematical knowledge required by the Balance Technique Spirit, after all, they were examination points for math tests. Although his ability had regressed after four years of college and he could no longer solve problems, he could still understand the basic concepts.

Ash had never seen a Technique Spirit that required knowledge before. According to the Sword Maiden, it seemed that only those related to “Fate,” “Prophecy,” and “Truth” would have knowledge requirements. These Technique Spirits were rarely used in combat or production, but often played unexpected roles, and Mages of the Prophetic Faction held high social status.

Being able to trigger the Resonance of the Balance Technique Spirit at any time meant that besides the Void Realm, Ash could also use the Balance Technique Spirit to profit in the “civilized society” of Shattered Lake Prison.

However, the Balance Technique Spirit belonged to that kind of ‘Holy Mother’ police who wouldn’t act unless the enemy did, and it could only respond when others were casting spells with their Technique Spirits. In a prison where nobody could use Technique Spirits, the Balance Technique Spirit actually didn’t have many targets.

Except for this “good friend” Ash had just met.

“Not bad, Ash,” Igula said as lightly as he could, “Since you have my wish and I have yours, we have reached an equilibrium of wishes. From now on, you live your life and I live mine, we coexist peacefully and don’t infringe upon each other, creating a harmonious prison environment. How about that?”

“Not so great,” Ash replied with a slight smile, “I’m going to use my wish right now.”

“Think it through!” Igula’s tone turned sinister, “Once you use your wish, you’ll have no means to threaten me! Then I can make you do anything I want, not just making you stand on your head to poop and roll around on the ground, but even losing a Death Battle Society fight on purpose!”

“Of course, I’ve thought it through.” Ash took a step forward, approaching Igula.

Igula had an uneasy premonition, and as he backed away, he tried to persuade, “Ash, really, there’s no need to go this far. Or don’t use the wish, just negotiate with me, I’m your good friend, if I can help you, I definitely will…”

“I don’t want ‘if,’ I need you to ‘wholeheartedly’ fulfill my wish.”

“I’m just an ordinary Swindler with limited abilities, Ash, you’re giving me too much credit. How about this, I’ll find a way to establish a Contract with another death row inmate, whatever you ask for, I’ll have them satisfy you, okay? Anything at all, and with no limits on the number of times!”

“No good, anyone else won’t do, it has to be you.”

Igula’s back was against the wall, with no room to retreat. Ash leaned against the wall with one hand, looking at him and said, “Igula, my wish is—”

“I can’t hear you, I’m not listening!”

Igula covered his ears with his hands and ran away, but he couldn’t use any Technique Spirits, and with similar physical capabilities, Ash caught up and grabbed his arm, shouting:

“Igula, I want your help to escape from prison!”

A passing Prison Guard glanced at the two of them, shook his head, and left whistling.

To the guards, declarations like “I’m the man who will be the king of prison breaks” had been heard hundreds of times; naturally, they didn’t take it seriously.

Even in their hearts, the guards felt a bit of sympathy for the condemned men; after all, dreaming up such fantasies right after breakfast seemed quite pitiable.

But the persons involved didn’t think this was just babbling nonsense.

Gasping for air, Igula looked at Ash, his expression as unsightly as if he had been punched, his back unknowingly drenched in cold sweat.

He just knew it! He just knew it!

What other wish could a man who had just survived the Blood Moon Judgement have, apart from the messy affairs of life and death, if not for breaking out of prison?

The moment Ash had his wish in hand, Igula knew he was done for. It was always those good at swimming who drowned, those enamored with flowers who perished in bed; and he, a Swindler who had reaped the intelligence tax of countless victims, now found himself trapped.

As for using his own wish to counteract Ash’s wish, that was impossible—because that would violate the restriction of “helping Ash,” something Igula simply couldn’t do!

Ash’s wish made it impossible for Igula to do anything to “prevent Ash from escaping” from Shattered Lake Prison!

He sighed and said, “Come with me.”

Igula took Ash to his room. Shattered Lake Prison did not forbid inmates from visiting each other’s cells; they could even sleep together and chat without issue—after all, aside from sleeping, there wasn’t much else they could do, with “physical intimacy” among the prohibited activities according to their implanted chips.

Only in a couple’s room could the “physical intimacy” restriction be temporarily lifted, only Death Battle Society could temporarily lift the “combat” restriction, and only in the toilets could the “excretion” restriction be lifted—yes, even the freedom to defecate in public was denied to the death row inmates.

Or you could say that death row inmates actually had the same freedom as normal people, but before doing certain things, you had to report to and apply with the prison, and only if the prison allowed it could you do it.

The difference between death row inmates and free people might be the difference between “nothing is permitted without law” and “everything not forbidden by law is permitted.”

“Your room’s quite spacious.”

Ash sat on the velvet bed with a flop, leaned back and sank in. Igula, who was just moving out a chair, couldn’t help but twitch the corners of his mouth at this scene.

Ash glanced at him and waved his hand, “Don’t be so formal, relax and sit down. I’m not much for etiquette; you don’t need to pour me water.”

What a pity, I was just thinking of scooping some water out of the toilet to quench your thirst, and if I hadn’t just urinated, I might have even added some extra ingredients… With resentment brewing inside, Igula sat on the chair with his fingers interlaced, staring at Ash.

“Do you really want to escape?”

“What kind of question is that? Who living here doesn’t want to escape?”

“A lot,” Igula said indifferently. “Like ‘Diamond’ Teague, for instance, he doesn’t want to escape. He has offended too many people outside, where it’s even more dangerous for him, and aside from being a hired thug or bodyguard, Weak Faction mages don’t have other means of survival. As long as he isn’t selected for the Blood Moon Judgment, Teague actually lives a more comfortable life here than outside.”

“People like Teague are not rare, or rather, anyone who has lived here for a few years has basically found a new way to survive and doesn’t hold any yearnings for the outside world. To them, the outside is just a larger prison, that’s all.”

Igula looked at Ash, secretly activated his Resonance Technique Spirit, and spoke with a tempting tone, “Since you survived your first Blood Moon Judgment, unless something unexpected happens, you’ll be like us, participating in the Blood Moon Judgments according to your contribution Sequence. As long as you have enough contribution, you won’t be selected.”

“Your strength is good, and your chances of victory in a death battle are high, which means you also have the ability to live comfortably here.” He spread his hands, “If you want, you can have a big room like this too, eat whatever you like from the restaurant, read books, watch films, drink, dance, or even pop Moon candy if you desire. Any requests you have can be discussed with the prison administration; that new ice rink was built because an inmate liked ice skating.”

“To people on the outside, this place might seem like a utopia—no crime, no vulgarity, no competition, and even no work, living a calm life each day with a regular schedule and plenty of energy.”

“Life here isn’t worse than outside.”

Seeing Ash seemingly moved, Igula was secretly thrilled and couldn’t help praising his own cunning.

Ash’s wish wasn’t without loopholes; the premise of “helping Ash escape” required Ash to want to escape. So as long as he convinced Ash to abandon the idea, Igula naturally wouldn’t have to fulfill this wish.

But these were also Igula’s sincere feelings.

Escape was a dead-end road with no finish line; fleeing wasn’t a momentary victory, but a lifetime of torture. Not to mention whether they could escape, even if they managed to, what awaited them was a harsher challenge—like rats crossing the street, hiding their names, living in fear, and struggling to breathe the free yet filthy air in the sewers.

And a pitiful survival, to them, was happiness easily within reach.

A death row inmate who survived the Blood Moon Judgment knew which option to choose.

“What you say makes sense.”

Ash sat up and nodded in Igula’s hopeful gaze, “Indeed, escaping is a perilous and uncertain path filled with thorns, and living here has its risks, but overall, it’s much more comfortable. If I stay here long enough, I’d probably become just like you all, learning how to enjoy prison life.”

Igula was delighted, “Uh-huh, good that you understand, Ash, so—”

“That’s why I must escape, and quickly, the sooner the better!”

Ash looked at Igula and slowly shook his head, “I don’t want to become like you all, blunted, cowardly, and broken.”

“I don’t want to live like a… dog!”

Igula’s expression froze.

After a moment of silence, Igula slowly stood up.

Snap!

He kicked the chair over with one foot, turned around and threw a punch at the wall, but just before his fist connected, his body suddenly stiffened, the chip within blocking his kinetic output.

“Fascinating, so calling oneself a dog doesn’t count as a curse? Must be a loophole in the chip, huh? Hahaha…”

“Fine! Escape, yes, all forms of escape!”

Igula shook his hand disdainfully and said coldly, “But the prerequisite for escape is that we first need to figure out a way to kill… get rid of the chip in our necks! As long as that neck chip is there, never mind escaping; you can’t even decide where to shit without the prison’s approval! Haha, I can’t do anything about that, can you, my dear cult leader, Ash Heath?”

“I have a way to deal with the chip.”

“I knew you had no… what?”