Soul Howl, a Time of Peace

Although the victim had been scared into fleeing,

Ronan still left the city, just to be safe.

Out in the wilderness beyond the city, he found a secluded spot under the bright moonlight and continued examining the remaining items.

Of the four wizard books, one was filled with legends about various Undead Magic wizards and monsters, seemingly a collection of stories for passing the time.

One was about Magic Potion Studies, far more detailed and comprehensive than the one Ronan had left in the treehouse.

The remaining two recorded three Undead Magic spells: the two low-level zero-order spells Corrosion Missile and Bone Spike, and one intermediate zero-order spell—Soul Howl.

After studying the latter for quite some time, Ronan discovered that it mainly taught one how to control the undead to unleash sonic attacks that disrupted an opponent's mental spellcasting.

No wonder the black-robed man had possessed a magical tool ring for raising ghosts.

He had probably failed to figure it out himself, which was why he had not worn it for use.

All three spells belonged to Undead Magic, and Ronan hesitated over whether to learn them.

There was nothing much to say about the first two low-level spells. The real issue was the final intermediate spell, Soul Howl.

This spell actually suited Ronan's requirements for control-type methods quite well. The specific inheritance and casting tools were all there; it was practically tailor-made for him.

But once I learn Undead Magic, traces of negative energy particles will inevitably cling to me. At a time when the Black Wizard Invasion is underway, will Academy Wizards mistake me for a spy from the Whispering Forest?

Ronan hesitated for a while before ultimately deciding to set it aside for now.

Among the remaining bottles of potions, one looked very much like a potion for rapidly restoring Spiritual Power. But Ronan worried that the black-robed and gray-robed factions might have different inheritances, and that there could be differences in potion use as well, so he did not dare touch it carelessly.

The final pile of miscellaneous items, whose value he could not determine, mostly consisted of animal organs soaked in special liquids, dried animal carcasses, unknown powders, strange wood chips, and the like. They looked like materials for alchemy or magic potion experiments.

Ronan wanted to throw them away, but having read too many novels in his previous life, he worried that some incredible treasure might be hidden among them. After wrestling with it for a long while, he ultimately used the cover of night to burn them, along with the first pile of trash, to ashes.

As the last leaf fell from the forest plane trees, the conflict between Hoddam Wizard Land and the Whispering Forest Black Wizard Land finally erupted in full.

Almost every day, teams of well-trained elite wizards could be seen leaving the Academy.

Magic Airships swayed away through the sky, and even official wizards who shone like blazing suns tore through the air alongside them. Once the real war began, it had little to do with the scattered Wandering Wizard groups in the town.

When two wizard settlements went to war, they fought over large resource sites and strategic locations vital to their respective powers. The lives of low-level wizard groups had almost no impact on the overall course of the war.

Having temporarily escaped the threat to their lives, the Wandering Wizards discussed nothing but the battle in their idle hours.

Great battles between official wizards, brutal struggles over small magic stone mines, clashes between genius wizard apprentices from Hoddam Academy and the Whispering Forest—every kind of news and rumor flew everywhere.

The town's atmosphere also quietly shifted from collective tension, unease, and anxiety into one of stability and tranquility, mixed with an inexplicable fervor and bustle.

"Crunch—"

Ronan stepped onto the thick snow, leaving behind a footprint of middling depth.

He casually picked up several pale yellow matsutake that had been unearthed from beneath the snow and tossed them into the Storage Waist Pouch at his side before continuing onward.

They tasted good pan-fried or in soup. Venecia had learned some fine cooking skills from Qiao Lin's Wife, so he could leave them to her when he got back.

A buzzing wind sound came from behind him.

Ronan stopped and turned around atop a snowy slope.

Within the town ring buried under heavy snow, several Magic Airships shaped much like sailing ships shot out from the vast white mist at its center.

The light of activated Rune Arrays flickered across the airships, and within that light, the robed figures of wizards could vaguely be seen.

"Lately, the Academy seems to be sending out Magic Airships more and more frequently. Has something changed in the war?"

Ronan watched the several Magic Airships receding beneath the clear sky, his eyes flickering as he thought to himself.

But this had little to do with a tiny Wandering Wizard apprentice like him. After watching for a moment, he continued onward.

Toward the forest.

As the war progressed, the black-robed crisis hanging over the Wandering Gray Robes seemed to have faded as well.

Several heavy snows had fallen after winter arrived, and the forest had grown ever more tranquil.

In recent days, more and more people had been unable to restrain themselves and had begun secretly entering and leaving the forest. Ronan had heard that some had even moved back to the former Treehouse Area.

They've been forced into it. After several months, many of them probably can't endure any longer.

Ronan thought silently.

Prices in town had now fallen considerably and were gradually stabilizing, but compared to before the black-robed men arrived, the cost of living remained high.

After several months of taking refuge in town, the greatest concern for many low-level wizards was no longer avoiding the danger brought by the black-robed men, but how to survive the bitter winter safely.

Ronan looked to either side. Across the endless white snowfield, he could see quite a few black dots like himself slowly making their way toward the forest.

Everyone bore the crushing weight of life on their backs, struggling forward with every step. Ronan shook his head and pushed off with his feet. Boom!

A huge crater exploded in the snow. His robe billowed like a cloak as he shot into the forest with the agility of an ape.

He raced onward by memory, startling flocks of winter birds into flight.

Ronan had entered the forest this time mainly to return to the treehouse where he had once lived and retrieve the savings he had accumulated several months ago.

After jogging for a while, the pent-up gloom and bitterness in his heart seemed to have mostly cleared away, and Ronan slowed down.

He brushed aside the snow and found the mouth of an underground spring beneath a steaming tree hollow. After scooping up several mouthfuls to drink, Ronan felt that he was already close to his destination.

The heavy snow had buried every trace of the disasters that had once occurred here. Only the lonely, ethereal calls of forest birds seemed to remember the former liveliness.

"Crack—"

Ronan snapped several branches blocking his way with his bare hands, and the familiar sight of his treehouse home came into view.

It was buried beneath thick snow, with icicles hanging from the long vines dangling from its roof. There was no sign that anyone had come here.

Ronan climbed into the treehouse and looked around after opening the door. Aside from the bedding dampened by snow and the dust-covered furniture, everything was much the same as when he had left.

After standing silently in the cabin for a while, reminiscing about the past, Ronan quickly packed away some things.

Mainly the few wizard books on the shelf, the unused blank Rune Stones, the Rune Inscription knife, and then some miscellaneous items left behind by the original owner, whether useful or not.

Before leaving, Ronan stood beside the small wooden bed.

Looking at the line carved into the bedframe—"The soul is the destination of immortality"—Ronan thought for a moment, took out the small knife he carried with him, and added a few more words beneath the bedframe.