Trace

Black Berry Rainforest.

A small grove.

Night had fallen long ago. About two kilometers from the Spring of Enlightenment, at the foot of a mountain slope, the moonlight was sparse. A rustling sound came from the darkness. In a certain place with uneven ground, small clumps of dirt occasionally bubbled out.

A few minutes later, a small flower, still covered in grass and dirt, rose like a lift. Looking closely, a pair of pitch-black eyes were revealed beneath the soil, and a head was pushing it up.

Sean quietly surveyed his surroundings, taking in every sound from the darkness. After confirming it was safe, he slowly crawled out and greedily took a few breaths of fresh air.

A faint smell of blood still lingered in the woods, indicating that the danger had not yet passed.

He couldn't leave yet.

News of Wenster and the others' complete annihilation had spread faster than he imagined. It had only been a little over ten hours, and Elvily's side had already received the message. The Floris Family likely knew by now as well. If he left now, he might just run straight into the main force.

The main issue was that he didn't know which direction they would come from.

He had to wait.

Sean had plenty of time; he wasn't in a hurry.

He needed a quiet place anyway.

He wasn't just lying in the pit waiting.

Becoming a Wizard for the first time... oh no, "re-becoming" was a more fitting word. Re-becoming a Wizard, he had many things to readjust to, such as his habits. Eating only twice a day and maintaining a moderate hunger made it easier to enter a state of Meditation.

And new spells.

In his previous life, his greatest strength lay in True Formulas, but that didn't mean he only knew True Formulas.

In the Scholar Era, there were many types of spells. Natural elements like fire and ice were just relatively common types of Magic, not the entirety of it. In addition, there were puppet dolls, chess pieces, pianos, violins, abstract paintings, and so on.

Someone once used Magic as ink to create a painting that contained a large magic array. Once activated, it could plunge an entire city into absolute darkness, slowing down the enemy's senses. Even chanting a spell would be half a beat slower because you couldn't even hear your own voice immediately, and your eyes would be nearly useless, unable to see anything.

And unlike its dark and viscous effect, this painting had a beautiful and pleasant name: "No Starry Sky."

Of course, Sean wasn't going to learn that.

With his current 1.5 Lac Magic, he couldn't learn it.

He planned to focus on a very practical small spell suitable for darkness: the Invisibility Spell.

The basic Invisibility Spell that could be learned at Tier 1 had noticeable flaws. In daylight, it might appear as a colorful transparent hue, looking like a humanoid bubble that was very tempting to poke. But if used in dim light at night, combined with the Mute Spell to eliminate breathing and footsteps, it would be nearly undetectable without special means.

Another spell was called "Light as a Swallow." As the name suggested, it could lighten a person's weight, often used for traveling or escaping. In critical moments, it could also be used on enemies, followed by a Wind Spell, and a set like that would send them away directly.

Sean found these small spells easy to learn, and the incantations were even simpler—

"Nuomi Wuyadi" — Invisibility Spell.

"Pesosende" — Light as a Swallow.

"Wentesajir" — Wind Spell.

"Weijesande" — Mute Spell.

For ordinary Wizards, the difficulty lay in the circulation of Magic and the pronunciation of the Old Tongue. But Sean had practiced the former countless times in his dreams; no newcomer Wizard could be more experienced than him. As for the latter, Sean was even more familiar with it. As one of his novel's settings, he knew every syllable of the Old Tongue clearly.

Sean mastered all four spells in just one night.

When daytime came, he "dug his own grave" again and buried himself back in the dirt.

His food came from those witch hunters. After killing them, Sean looted their bags.

It wasn't bad; those scoundrels ate quite well. They were all military rations, rich in fat. Heated slightly with fire, they tasted better than many dishes prepared by chefs in restaurants.

He didn't touch the witch hunters' phones, fearing they might have trackers. He couldn't open them without passwords anyway. They were just low-level thugs who worked for the Floris Family for money and likely didn't know any important information, so it wasn't worth the risk.

On the second night, Sean practiced the incantations again, increasing his proficiency.

He slept or meditated during the day and roamed invisibly at night, observing the situation.

This pattern of hiding during the day and coming out at night continued until the fourth day, when the Floris Family's main force finally appeared.

Sean hid in the darkness, observing from afar.

He couldn't hear them communicate, but he could clearly see their actions. They packed the bodies of Wenster and the others into sacks, including Jim, Wilson, Johnson, and Jenny. All of them were taken away, not one missing.

The witch hunters who came this time were clearly better equipped than Wenster's group. They wore thick bulletproof vests, explosion-proof helmets, and had grenades on their belts. They looked like a well-trained army. Sean even saw someone carrying a rocket launcher on their back, and he couldn't help but think, "Are they treating me like a BOSS?"

To deal with a Tier 1 Wizard, was it necessary?

The True Formula he had previously deployed using the Third Law of Mysticism could reflect incoming fire, but the amount of fire it could reflect depended on his Magic limit, which was 1.5 Lac. If a rocket were fired directly at him, he would have no choice but to flee.

Fortunately, it was night, and the other party did not discover him observing in secret.

Sean didn't observe for too long. His goal was to confirm the direction they came from. Now that he knew, he lingered no longer, blending into the night, and quietly retreated, leaving the small grove.

Before leaving, he specifically paid attention to the Spring of Enlightenment.

The spring water at night still emitted a faint glow, just like in the morning. However, instead of the moon at the bottom of the water, there was the sun, which was quite magical.

These hunters seemed to have no intention of disturbing the spring. Clearly, they hadn't given up on this fishing spot. He left warnings on some tree trunks, hoping that those who came next time would see them and heed his advice.

Floris Hospital.

Days passed one by one.

Quill's mood grew worse with each passing day.

Seven days had passed since the caregivers he sent out had died, yet Sean's body had not been found at the scene. This meant the other party was still alive. Quill couldn't understand how a frail, shut-in writer could kill over twenty armed witch hunters.

Could he really rely on the pitiful Magic of Tier 1?

It didn't make sense.

But there was no one else besides Sean. Even though Quill was unwilling to believe it, he had to accept this fact.

He felt as if Sean had slapped him hard across the face, which made him furious.

What was even harder for him to accept was that Sean showed signs of breaking free from his control.

He had already sent people to investigate, but for seven consecutive days, there was no news about Sean's whereabouts. The guy seemed to have evaporated from the world overnight, leaving no trace anywhere.

Until the eighth day.

Quill's mood finally improved.

This was because a caregiver pushed open the door to his office.

"Dr. Quill, we have news."

"Speak."

"On the first of next month, Sean will be attending his book signing event in Old Sigel City."