Chapter 79: An Honest Soul

“Soul fragment probably refers to that white shadow. But what’s a soul resin? Is my left hand really that powerful? And what does it mean to preserve a soul fragment?”

One question after another surged through Saul’s mind.

He realized just how much he didn’t know. He had guessed a modification plan using the diary, but while he could use it, he didn’t understand the underlying principles.

Which meant his understanding of his left hand was also limited.

“That soul fragment… could it be Sid’s? But what’s it for? It’s not like I can really play cards with it.”

“And that black shadow… Diary, did you absorb that black shadow?”

Saul stared at the diary, a little frustrated—it never listened to him.

Of course, it could also be that the diary didn’t have any consciousness at all, and all of its actions followed some predefined rules.

Just then, the diary suddenly began flipping pages rapidly, the thickness of the remaining pages decreasing at an alarming rate.

“Wait!” Saul tensed immediately.

What was happening? Why was it flipping to the back?

Would the earlier pages still be usable once it reached the end?

Don’t tell him now that the diary’s warning function had a limited number of uses.

But the diary didn’t slow down in response to Saul’s anxiety. It quickly flipped all the way to the final page.

And the last page of the diary… was a sheet of black paper.

The black paper had no patterns and looked coarser than the rest of the diary’s pages. The edges were irregular, as if someone had torn off a square of paper and carefully glued it to the end of the diary.

Just as Saul lowered his head to examine this suddenly appearing black page, a white phantom shot out of his left hand and plunged straight into the black paper.

A moment later, a line of white text appeared on the black paper—bold, thick ink, the characters crammed together in clumps.

[Where is this? Why is it so dark?]

This cluster of words definitely wasn’t from the diary.

Who was it? Who was hiding inside the diary?

Was it the diary’s original owner? Or… the original Saul?

Saul’s breath caught for a moment.

“No, that phantom came out of my left hand just now… You’re Sid?”

[I am Sid. Who are you, and how do you know my name?]

Oh man, did the diary just level up?

No, more likely, Saul had killed Sid’s vengeful spirit and obtained a soul fragment, which then activated this new function of the diary.

Seeing that the soul could answer questions, Saul’s eyes lit up as he asked, “Sid, do you remember how you died?”

[I was killed by Saul using by some magical item. But before that, in order to escape an ambush, I had no choice but to break a Elf Figurine. It caused my mental body to go into an unstable frenzy and I couldn’t cast spells, which left me open to being ambushed. Honestly, I was way stronger than Saul. Who are you? How do you know I died?]

“Looks like it really is Sid.” Saul guessed this was the diary’s ability to communicate with souls.

“This Diary of a Dead Wizard might be way more powerful than I originally thought.”

Saul had initially assumed the diary only predicted death. But now it seemed its knowledge spanned death, soul, and matter.

He couldn’t imagine what kind of person had created this Diary of a Dead Wizard.

The two questions Saul had just asked were answered completely honestly by Sid’s soul.

That gave Saul some ideas about how the diary might work.

Was it that souls couldn’t lie?

No—it must be the diary’s power.

If vengeful spirit were honest, then where would all the scary ghost stories come from?

“Sid…” Saul grinned, sat down on the floor, and started smugly bouncing his leg.

Nope, couldn’t do it. Leg was still too weak—better just rest it.

“How do you know about the Diary of a Dead Wizard?”

The diary was currently Saul’s greatest golden finger, and he had to be sure whether anyone else knew about it.

[That Diary of a Dead Wizard has been passed down in my family for generations. When my grandfather wasn’t insane yet, he used to hold that book without a single word on it and just stare at it for hours.]

According to Sid, his grandfather had once been a powerful First-Rank Wizard. Because he specialized in dark elements, he was particularly interested in the family’s Diary of a Dead Wizard, convinced it contained some kind of mystical knowledge about death.

A kind of knowledge that could allow an ordinary wizard to ascend to previously unattainable heights.

But after years of studying it—from black hair to white—Sid’s grandfather hadn’t discovered anything. In the end, he drove himself mad.

During the years of his grandfather’s madness, Sid’s father made a series of poor business decisions, losing a fortune. In the end, the family had to sell off all their possessions—including the Diary of a Dead Wizard, which, by chance, ended up in the hands of a Third-Rank apprentice from the Gorsa Wizard Tower.

That apprentice had bought a bunch of books on magic from Sid’s family and casually said he’d turn them in to the library for credit.

Three days after that apprentice left, Sid’s grandfather suddenly regained his sanity—and the first thing he did was look for the Diary of a Dead Wizard.

When he found out it had been sold, he flew into a rage and almost beat Sid’s father to death. Only Sid and his mother standing in the way saved his father’s life.

Afterward, Sid’s grandfather locked himself in his old lab for three days and nights—no food, no water.

When he came out, he was holding both arms high, laughing like a madman.

At the time, he was a disheveled mess, with tangled hair and beard, so everyone assumed he’d just gone insane again.

But then, screaming “I know now! I finally understand!”, he suddenly murdered Sid’s parents on the spot.

And he didn’t stop there—he killed everyone who came running afterward. The entire estate turned into a blood-soaked hell.

Once he had slaughtered everyone in the manor, Sid’s grandfather ran out barefoot and disappeared without a trace.

Fifteen-year-old Sid was left curled up, shaking beside his parents’ bodies. His pants were soaked and stinking, and the man who had done all the killing was nowhere to be seen—Sid didn’t dare move.

Afraid his grandfather would notice he was still alive.

He waited for a long time. When the crazed laughter finally faded, Sid collapsed on the ground, both legs numb and burning like they’d been dipped in boiling oil.

But just as he shakily got back up and looked around—he saw his grandfather returning, holding the severed head of Sid’s married elder sister.

He tossed the head at Sid’s feet, and Sid’s legs gave out again, and he collapsed back onto the pile of corpses.

His grandfather walked up, slowly crouched down in front of him but didn’t strike.

Instead, his expression softened, like when Sid was little, full of kindly affection and grandfatherly warmth.

“Little Sid, you’re a First-Rank apprentice now? That’s good.”

Sid trembled all over as he looked at his grandfather.

He couldn’t understand—how could this man, who had just killed everyone in their family, now be smiling so gently at him?

But his grandfather didn’t seem to mind his fear. He simply took Sid’s cold, corpse-like hand and said, “Now, Grandpa has an opportunity for you to become a great true wizard. Want it?”

Sid shook his head so hard it looked like a drum.

“Hm?” His grandfather’s eyes flashed with murderous intent.

Sid immediately switched to nodding just as hard.

And so, Sid was sent off by his grandfather to the Gorsa Wizard Tower, becoming an apprentice specializing in water magic.

Everything after that, Saul already knew.

By this point, the white text on the black paper had faded from a rich milky white to a faint, almost colorless pale gray.

The characters, once full and round, had become thin and sharp.

[Before I left, Grandfather told me he had discovered that the diary was a truly unique artifact. Anyone who still had living relatives couldn’t become its master. Even if they obtained it, all they’d see was a blank hardcover book. The diary would only reveal itself after its previous owner died. But whoever personally killed the last owner would never be acknowledged by it. Who are you? How do you know about the diary?]

“What’s with all these complex rules? No living relatives, but you also can’t kill the last owner yourself?”

“This Diary of a Dead Wizard… could it really follow some kind of karmic law?”

Saul was puzzled, but at least now he finally understood Sid’s motive—and the reason for all those clumsy attempts to frame him.

It had all been due to the diary’s rules!

[I don’t know. That’s just what Grandfather told me. Who are you? What do you mean by karmic law?]

Saul completely ignored Sid’s question. “Wait—didn’t you say you couldn’t have any living relatives to receive the diary? But what about your grandfather?”

[Grandfather was already dead before I left. But I left in a hurry and didn’t get to attend his funeral. Who are you? Why do I have to keep answering your questions?]

By now, Sid’s writing had faded to a near-gray, barely legible.

“Your grandfather’s dead?” Saul narrowed his eyes and leaned closer, carefully examining the black page. Then he let out a quiet laugh and asked:

“Where’s your grandfather buried?”

(End of Chapter)

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