Chapter 79: An Honest Soul
“The soul fragment must be that white shadow. But what’s spiritual resin? Is my left hand really that powerful? And what does it mean to preserve a soul fragment?”
Questions flooded Saul’s mind one after another.
He realized just how much knowledge he hadn’t yet encountered. He’d relied on the diary to stumble through a transformation plan, but he only knew how to use it, not the principles behind it.
As a result, his understanding of his left hand was limited.
“A soul fragment… it couldn’t be Sid’s soul fragment, could it? What’s it good for? Surely not actually playing cards with it.”
“And that black shadow. Diary, did you absorb that black shadow?”
Saul looked at the diary, feeling a headache coming on. This diary was never cooperative.
Of course, it might also be because the diary had no consciousness and operated entirely based on a set of predetermined rules.
At that moment, the diary in front of him suddenly began flipping backward rapidly, the thickness of the remaining pages dwindling at an alarming rate.
“Wait!” Saul immediately tensed up.
What was happening? Why was it flipping backward all of a sudden?
If it flipped to the end, would the earlier pages still be usable?
Please don’t tell him now that the diary’s warnings had a limited number of uses.
The diary didn’t slow down despite Saul’s anxiety. It quickly reached the very last page.
And the final page of the diary was a sheet of black paper.
The black paper bore no patterns and appeared rougher than the other pages in the diary. Its edges were uneven, as if someone had carelessly torn it into a square and carefully glued it to the back of the diary.
Just as Saul leaned down to examine this sudden black page, a white shadowy figure darted out of his left hand and plunged headfirst into the black paper.
Then, a line of thick, white, ink-heavy text, squeezed together in clumps, appeared on the black paper.
[Where am I? Why is it so dark?]
This cluster of words was definitely not in the diary’s usual handwriting.
Who? Who was hiding in the diary?
The diary’s original owner? Or… the original Saul?
Saul’s breathing hitched for a moment.
“No, that shadow just came from my left hand… Are you Sid?”
[I’m Sid. Who are you, and how do you know my name?]
Good heavens, had the diary upgraded again?
No, that wasn’t it. It was more likely that Saul had killed Sid’s resentful spirit and obtained a soul fragment, which had unlocked a new function in the diary.
Seeing that this soul could respond, Saul’s eyes gleamed as he asked, “Sid, do you remember how you died?”
[I was killed by Saul with a one-use witchcraft tool. But before that, to escape being surrounded, I had no choice but to smash an elf statue, which caused my spirit to become hyperactive and unable to cast spells. That’s when he ambushed me successfully. Honestly, I was far stronger than Saul. Who are you? How do you know I’m dead?]
“So it really is Sid.” Saul guessed this must be the diary’s ability to communicate with souls.
“This Diary of the Death Wizard is probably way more powerful than I originally thought!”
Saul had initially assumed the diary could only predict death. Now it seemed its mastery extended deeply into death, souls, and even matter.
Who could have created such a Diary of the Death Wizard?
Sid’s soul had answered both of Saul’s earlier questions truthfully, which gave Saul some theories about the diary’s abilities.
Was it that souls couldn’t lie?
No, it was more likely the diary’s own power at work.
If resentful spirits were honest, where would all the world’s terrifying ghost stories come from?
“Sid…” Saul grinned, sitting on the floor and attempting to jiggle his leg triumphantly.
Nope, still too weak to move. He set it back down.
“How did you learn about the Diary of the Death Wizard?”
The diary was currently Saul’s greatest trump card, and he needed to confirm whether anyone else knew of its existence.
[That Diary of the Death Wizard was passed down through my family for generations. Back when my grandfather hadn’t gone mad, he often sat there poring over that wordless book.]
According to Sid, his grandfather had once been a formidable Level 1 Wizard. Specializing in dark elements, he’d been particularly fascinated by the family’s heirloom, the Diary of the Death Wizard. He was convinced it contained mysterious knowledge about death—knowledge powerful enough to elevate an ordinary wizard to heights otherwise unattainable.
But after years of study, from black hair to white, Sid’s grandfather found nothing and eventually drove himself insane.
In the years of his madness, Sid’s father lost a fortune due to poor business decisions and was forced to sell off the family’s possessions—including the Diary of the Death Wizard. By chance, it was sold to a Level 3 apprentice from the Gorsa Wizard Tower.
That apprentice collected many witchcraft-related books from Sid’s family, casually mentioning they’d be submitted to the library for credits.
Three days after the apprentice left, Sid’s grandfather suddenly regained his sanity and immediately demanded his Diary of the Death Wizard.
Upon learning it had been sold, he flew into a rage, nearly beating Sid’s father to death on the spot. Sid and his mother barely managed to intervene.
Afterward, Sid’s grandfather locked himself in his old laboratory for three days and nights, neither eating nor drinking.
When he emerged, he raised his hands to the sky and laughed hysterically.
With his disheveled hair and beard, clad in tattered clothes, everyone assumed he’d gone mad again.
But then, shouting, “I’ve figured it out! I’ve figured it out!” he suddenly attacked, killing Sid’s father and mother.
Not stopping there, he slaughtered everyone who came rushing in, turning the entire estate into a blood-soaked hell.
After killing everyone in the manor, he ran barefoot into the distance and disappeared.
Fifteen-year-old Sid, meanwhile, huddled beside his parents’ bodies, trembling and clutching his knees. His pants reeked of urine and fear. With his murderous grandfather gone, he didn’t dare move, terrified of being discovered alive.
After a long wait, when the crazed laughter finally faded, Sid collapsed to the ground. His legs were numb and aching, as if plunged into boiling oil.
But as he shakily stood and looked up, he saw his grandfather return—holding the severed head of Sid’s sister, who’d married and moved away.
His grandfather tossed the head at Sid’s feet. Sid’s legs gave out, and he crumpled back into the pile of corpses.
The old man walked over to Sid and slowly crouched down but didn’t harm him.
His expression softened into the kindly look Sid remembered from childhood, a smile playing on his lips as if teasing his grandson.
“Little Sid, you’re a Level 1 apprentice now? Not bad.”
Sid stared at his grandfather, trembling uncontrollably.
He couldn’t comprehend how the man who’d just murdered his entire family could now speak to him so gently with a smile.
His grandfather didn’t seem bothered by Sid’s fear. He grabbed Sid’s icy, corpse-like hand. “Now, Grandfather has a chance for you to become a great official wizard. Do you want it?”
Sid shook his head like a rattle drum.
“Hm?” His grandfather’s eyes narrowed, a wave of killing intent rolling off him.
Sid immediately switched to nodding up and down.
And so, Sid was sent by his grandfather to the Gorsa Wizard Tower, where he became a wizard apprentice specializing in water attributes.
Saul already knew most of what happened after that.
By this point, the white text on the black paper had faded from its original rich, creamy white to a barely discernible pale shade.
The letters were no longer rounded but had turned sharp and thin.
[Before sending me off in the carriage, my grandfather told me he’d realized the diary was an utterly unique existence. No one with living blood relatives could become its master. Even if they held it, they’d only see a blank hardcover book. The diary only reveals itself after its original owner dies. But someone who kills the original owner with their own hands will never be recognized by it. Who are you? Why do you know about the diary too?]
“Why such a complicated setup? No living blood relatives, and you can’t personally kill the diary’s owner?”
“Does this Diary of the Death Wizard actually care about karma or something?”
Saul was puzzled, but he’d finally pieced together why Sid had targeted him and the reasons behind those clumsy attempts at sabotage.
It was the diary’s rules binding Sid.
[I don’t know either—it’s just what my grandfather told me. Who are you? What’s karma?]
Saul completely ignored Sid’s questions. “Wait, didn’t you say you can only claim the diary if you have no living relatives? Don’t you still have a grandfather?”
[My grandfather died before I left, but I was in such a rush that I didn’t get to attend his funeral. Who are you? Why do I have to keep answering your questions?]
Sid’s text had grown so faint it was almost gray, barely legible.
“Your grandfather’s dead?” Saul squinted, leaning closer to scrutinize the words on the black paper. Suddenly, he chuckled and asked, “Where’s your grandfather… buried?”
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