The Statue Moved

"Don't you know him well? You don't even know this?"

"..."

He really didn't know.

The only thing he could be sure of was that if the Void Arts Space was truly created by him, it must have been after he achieved transcendence. Because at this point in time, when he was secretly meeting with the Saintess, the him in his dreams had no knowledge of the Void Arts Space.

Sean's mind raced as he pressed the girl, "Why did he create the Void Arts Space?"

"To exchange academic ideas and find ways to break through the limits of the human body," Elvily replied. "This method is called the Divine Path, and in the Scholar Era, it was the lifelong pursuit of all Archmages."

"Did they succeed?"

"I don't know."

"What about Karl Black?"

"I don't know."

"What happened to him and the Saintess in the end?"

"...I don't know."

Sean said with dissatisfaction, "Why don't you know anything?"

Elvily: "?"

Are you blaming me now?

She found that this guy asked too many questions, like a "why" machine. A displeased expression appeared on her beautiful face. "Are you trying to get material from me?"

Sean: "..."

That's a pretty good excuse.

"I'm not talking to you anymore, I have to go to a meeting." The awakening of cognition, like the recovery of memory, is a phased process. Elvily actually knew some stories about Karl Black and the Holy See's Saintess, but for some personal reason, she didn't want to talk about these two people. Time also didn't allow her to chat with Sean any longer, or she would be late.

Sean had no choice but to give up. He couldn't delay the girl's important business.

Iris smiled and said, "You can come with us. Although you probably can't enter the Sanctuary, you can wander around nearby."

Outside the Hall of Truth was a small plaza. Many people liked to gather there to communicate and try to enter the Sanctuary at any time, so it was lively every day. It was one of the few havens for wizards like them who had experienced many hardships.

Sean outwardly nodded obediently, but inwardly he was plotting his own little scheme.

He didn't quite agree with Iris's words.

It was reasonable for ordinary wizards to have conditions to enter the Sanctuary, as they were all "outsiders."

But he was different; he was the "master."

According to the Flame Crow Girl, the Void Arts Space was equivalent to his home, and the Hall of Truth was just a door in his house. Outsiders couldn't open it, but he, the master, might be able to.

He needed to find an opportunity to try.

Originally, Sean hadn't paid much attention to the so-called knowledge treasures in the Sanctuary. It wasn't that he wasn't interested; no one would dislike more powerful spells. It was just that he needed Magic more right now. Otherwise, if his rank wasn't high enough, even if he mastered the Principle of Spell Operation for high-level spells, he wouldn't be able to cast them and would only be a theoretical master.

Sean never aimed too high.

But after learning that the Void Arts Space might have been created by him, his thoughts changed—those were all his treasures.

Although he had temporarily shaken off Quill's surveillance with the True Formula, his situation was far from safe. As long as the Witch Hunt hadn't ended, he could encounter greater crises at any moment.

He had to make use of every condition around him to improve his strength as quickly as possible.

They arrived at the small plaza.

The two women and Sean parted ways, entering the Hall of Truth.

As Iris had said, there were many people in the plaza. If one ignored their semi-transparent, illusory texture and that of the buildings, it was no different from the bustling and noisy pedestrian streets in many big cities. The only thing missing was that touch of color representing reality. Sean even saw people setting up stalls by the roadside.

He was curious. Wasn't the Void Arts Space a purely illusory world constructed by mental power? How could they conduct business?

He walked over and asked a young stall owner.

"New here, aren't you?" the curly-haired youth grinned when he heard him. "Don't you see that all the stalls here are 'paintings'?"

But in reality, he wasn't selling paintings, but the magic potions depicted in them.

Business here didn't require immediate payment and delivery. It was impossible to complete transactions on the spot in a fictional world. Its transaction method was more like online shopping. After agreeing on a price, they would leave each other's payment accounts and delivery addresses. The buyer and seller did not meet offline. For safety reasons, many wizards used fake information when conducting business to avoid exposing their hiding places.

"I see," Sean said with a look of understanding.

"My name is Charles. Want to be friends?" the curly-haired youth extended his hand to Sean. He didn't dislike Sean for being a newcomer because he himself had only become a wizard not long ago. However, his major was alchemy, and the magic potions in his paintings were all made by himself.

"Then their effects can't be guaranteed?" Sean joked. "My name is Sean."

"Don't underestimate me. My talent is very high. My teacher often praises me as a genius," Charles retorted, then suddenly felt something was wrong. "Wait a minute, what did you just say your name was? Sean?"

Sean asked, not understanding, "Is there a problem?"

Charles: "Which Sean?"

Sean: "..."

"The 'Sean' from 'Sean'?"

Charles: "..."

He paused and asked, "Did you write The Moon and the Knight?"

Sean was slightly taken aback. What's going on?

Did I just run into a fan?

Sean, being cautious, didn't answer immediately. Instead, he asked, "Are you a fan of his?"

Charles nodded. "Yeah."

Sean pressed further, "How big of a fan?"

Charles replied, "A fan to the point of being black."

Sean: "?"

Damn, a hater?

At this point, he was still an author. Even with his new identity as a Wizard, he couldn't detach himself from his ordinary life so quickly. He couldn't help but fall back into his professional habits. He subconsciously defended himself, "I don't remember anything in the book that would make people angry, right?"

"No," Charles said. "But it's too short."

"A full-time author only updating one or two chapters a day, what's that supposed to mean?"

Sean argued, "Creating a story is hard work. It's not as easy as you think."

It was somewhat similar to magic, where Magic consumed body cells, while writing consumed brain cells.

"Hard work? How is it hard?" Charles said righteously. "He's a novelist, doesn't he just need to bury his head and write? We readers have so much more to consider."

Sean: "?"

"So, is it you or not?" Charles asked.

Sean flatly denied it, "No."

Charles looked suspicious. "Really not?"

"Absolutely not," Sean changed the subject. "Do you know the conditions for entering the first level

Sean was gone.

He had vanished from everyone's sight along with the brilliant light.

Charles: "???"

All the Wizards: "???"

"What the hell?!"

Charles's eyes widened, and he shot to his feet, babbling, "He went in??"

"He actually went in?!"

A clamor erupted from the crowd.

"How is that possible?"

"He's only rank one, isn't he? Did I sense it wrong??"

Disbelieving shouts burst out across the plaza.

Meanwhile, Sean could no longer hear their voices.

Even if he could, he probably wouldn't have the mental space to savor the sense of accomplishment that came with being the center of attention.

Because the situation was a little different from what he had imagined.

It was unexpected not only for Charles but for him as well.

He had indeed come in.

But... it was "physically" entering.

He had been directly sucked into the statue.

Even stranger, he didn't seem to be inside the statue in the plaza, but rather in a statue on the second floor of the Sanctuary.

This statue appeared to be located in a corner of a large hall. In the center was a round table, and people were seated around it.

A meeting was in progress.

Sean could clearly hear them talking.

So, looking at Elvily's beautiful profile and the youthful nape of her neck with its slightly disheveled strands of hair, Sean fell into deep thought.

He could now confirm that as the creator of the Void Arts Space and the Hall of Truth, he did indeed possess certain privileges here. It was just that his method of activation seemed a bit off...

The people in the meeting were completely unaware of his presence. A man continued from where the previous speaker left off, "The Dean of Holkodo Floris Hospital has been absent for a long time, and all hospital affairs have been managed by the Vice Dean. You should all be aware of this."

"And the information I received is that the Vice Dean will also be returning to his family at the end of this month. Based on previous intelligence, he will be gone for 3-5 days, returning to the hospital around the 4th."

An elder in the main seat asked, "Have the purification potions been administered to the patients?"

Elvily nodded. "It's all done."

Quill hadn't lied to Sean about one thing: the meals for the patients at Floris Hospital were indeed specially prepared by nutritionists every day. However, one of the ingredients in the recipe was a plant called "Withered Leaf Grass," which suppressed the Magic within a Wizard's body and contained a small amount of neurotoxin. This caused the eater's skin to go numb, their mind to wander, and their spirit to become listless, making them naturally unable to resist their imprisonment.

The purification potion was meant to counteract the Withered Leaf Grass.

"And you," the elder looked towards the other end of the round table, "are your personnel ready?"

One person replied, "We're already on our way to Holkodo."

"Excellent," the elder, who seemed to be the leader of this meeting, made the decision. "Then we'll make our move on the first of next month."

"I hope they put up a better fight themselves."

"Remember, rescuing the people is the top priority, followed by the treasury."

Sean had a rough understanding. Elvily and the others seemed to be planning a surprise attack on Floris Hospital to rescue the imprisoned Wizards, and perhaps seize some resources in the process?

He remembered Chris's stockings.

When he saw Chris's body in the morgue, his feet, exposed from under the white sheet, were bare. It was clear the stockings had already been stripped off by those bastards. This showed that they not only killed people but also looted them. The items stolen from the Wizards were likely stored in the treasury the elder had mentioned.

Sean couldn't help but narrow his eyes, a faint killing intent showing in them.

This was purely an unconscious reaction driven by his hatred for Quill, but who knew that the statue enveloping him would also narrow its eyes along with him.

The statue on the second floor of the Sanctuary, like the one in the plaza, had a blurred face. However, the act of narrowing its eyes was too obvious. Since the round table was, well, round, there was always an angle that directly faced his direction.

Suddenly, a middle-aged man jumped up as if his backside had a spring.

"Holy crap!"

"The statue moved!"