Holding The Ten Thousand Races' Guide in his hands, Jia Xiu's forehead broke out in a slight sweat.
This book was a little too wicked.
It possessed every trait of those books from legends that brought all manner of trouble.
A riddle-maker title, bizarre phenomena, hallucinations as though it had come alive and was luring people to read it.
It felt as though opening it would be the first step toward falling to the dark side.
But then again, going dark made you ten times stronger, while washing yourself clean weakened you by thirty percent. Did the dark side mean this book contained forbidden knowledge leading to great power?
Could he be the special one—the one who could master that knowledge rather than be devoured by it?
As if sensing Jia Xiu's thoughts, the book's leather cover trembled more eagerly.
"Open me, and I shall grant your wish—"
Jia Xiu stared intently at the spellbook. "Follow your instincts—"
Jia Xiu held the book in his right hand while his left hand gradually reached toward it.
"You have made an incomparably correct decision. Years from now, you will thank—"
Before the wicked book could finish speaking, Jia Xiu slammed it down, stuffed it back into place at lightning speed, then shoved the other loosely arranged books in the same row together, cramming them against the wicked book and pinning it tightly in place. Then he turned toward the entrance and shouted.
"Madam Librarian, there's something wrong with this book!"
The wicked book was dumbfounded. What kind of person was this? He did not play by the rules at all.
Under normal circumstances, shouldn't he have seen this as an opportunity where risk and reward went hand in hand?
And spellcasters were always creatures willing to take risks. At a time like