The Sorcerer's Handbook

At the Spider Tower region on the Virtual World's Continent of Time.

The Celestial Chariot Ox had not yet arrived, leaving the entire region frozen, clothed in monochrome. Aside from the Knowledge Creatures continuing their endless, mindless reproduction, the only signs of activity were the three castles enclosed within layered defensive lines, operating tirelessly, day and night.

Knowledge Creatures equipped with specific units had taken on human form. They sat at their workstations with lowered heads, writing frantically to answer queries originating from reality. As each question was resolved, vast streams of soul energy converged toward the castle's core structure, the Spider Web.

Denzel herself was currently equipped with a unit. Wearing a small vest and skirt, she sat cross-legged on her former throne, idly flipping through the questions surfacing in her book.

Commanders accumulated merit through work. With nothing better to do, most of them took on unit-specific duties. The work in the Spider Tower was simple and required no actual thinking. The moment they read a question, the answer would automatically surface in their minds. All they had to do was write it down.

It seemed like a redundant process, but it was entirely necessary. No matter how great a Divine Miracle was, it remained nothing more than a rigid, unchanging rule. Only by leveraging the adaptable nature of a conscious intellect could it generate precise, individualized responses.

However, for a commander like Denzel, retaining a degree of emotion, the work was mind-numbing. She walked over to the window and looked up at the web blanketing the gray sky.

Calling it a web was actually somewhat inaccurate. It had almost no visible holes. From below, it looked less like a net and more like a vast white curtain stretched across the heavens. Yet, looking closer, Denzel could still discern seven openings at the very center. Once all seven were filled, the Grand Investiture of the Six Nations would officially begin.

There were ten of these holes in total. However, they carried the risk of rupturing entirely on their own. If only one opened, the Spider Tower could secure second place at worst. But if seven or eight tore open, they would likely finish near the bottom.

Hopefully, this time, it will stabilize...

Right then, Denzel noticed the web tremble slightly. Countless silver threads began weaving together, gradually sealing the seventh opening.

She lowered her gaze to the book in her hand, flipping to the page containing the rankings. Commanders in the Spider Tower had access to intelligence from reality, but most had no interest in it. Even Denzel, despite having regained her emotions, felt indifferent.

Compared to her brief decades in the mortal realm, she had spent hundreds of years on the Continent of Time retrieving fragments of her soul. That vast stretch of time had entirely diluted her past. She no longer felt the slightest attachment to reality.

Perhaps that was exactly why the Six Nations War and the Commander's army all took place on the Continent of Time. Two-Winged sorcerers simply did not live long enough. There was no need for the Divine Lord to intervene. Time alone was enough for commanders to fully assimilate into the Continent of Time.

Suddenly, a flicker of genuine interest sparked in Denzel's eyes. "Schemer Rankings..."

Unlike the previous two openings, which she hadn't even bothered to glance at, this was a title she actually liked.

[Schemer Ranking No.10: Denzel's Crown Descent Ritual]

Synopsis: The ancestor of the Dolan family, Denzel Dolan, possessed the authority to observe infinite futures. To obtain this authority, on April 10, 1678, Annan decided to expend a vast fortune in gold and jewels to initiate the Crown Descent Ritual.

Creator: Annan Dolan.

A faint look of confusion crossed Denzel's face. "Hm? I... have descendants?"

***

At the Belldet Estate.

The moment the tenth entry on the Schemer Ranking materialized, every eye in the room locked onto the Purple Moth, whose body had already been battered and ruined by her mother. Their gazes burned with varying shades of naked desire.

The Dolan family... the authority to observe infinite futures... the Crown Descent Ritual!

However, when Quinna's grip tightened on the handle of her gun, the crowd ultimately chose to give the Senheisers a modicum of respect. Swallowing their greed for the moment, they turned their attention back to the projection.

"Miss, there is no escaping it this time. We may actually become enemies with every major faction."

Within the image, Pankey still looked like a gentle, blue-haired boyish butler. In stark contrast, Annan had grown noticeably more mature. Clad in an off-shoulder purple gown, she was breathtakingly beautiful, radiant, and dangerously alluring. The pair stood on the second floor of a banquet hall, overlooking the mingling guests below.

"It's fine," Annan said with a casual shrug. "All these factions will soon be reduced to a mere handful of stragglers anyway. Offending them now means nothing. I went through a lot of trouble to trick them into coming here. I can't back down now.

"Besides, you should be more worried about whether the ritual Rusty Crow gave us will succeed. Denzel is our best hope. Only she can lead us to conquer the future."

Outside the projection, the onlookers held their breath, hardly daring to blink. They had no idea who Denzel Dolan was, but a ritual designed to summon an ancestor could only mean one thing.

Resurrection! Bringing back the dead!

That was a domain reserved exclusively for the Divine Lord. Anything touching upon resurrection was, without exception, a Divine Miracle. If a declining lineage like Annan's could successfully pull off such a feat, then what about their own families?

Gaining the full details of the Crown Descent Ritual had instantly become an invaluable prize.

Yet, as if anticipating their frantic thoughts, the Book of Gospel maliciously skipped the entire process, jumping straight to the ritual's end.

Annan now stood in an empty, silent hall. Every single guest lay collapsed on the ground, their life or death uncertain. Pankey looked at his lady and, for some unknown reason, instinctively took a step back.

Annan turned to him, lifting her proud chin slightly. "What are you afraid of, Pankey?"

Her striking beauty did nothing to soften her overwhelming, suffocating authority.

Pankey's gaze sharpened, piercing like a needle toward the unknown entity wearing his mistress's face. "Denzel? What happened to Miss Annan?!"

"She's sleeping. Didn't she say goodnight to you?"

Pankey gripped his firearm tightly, though he did not draw it. "Give the Lady back!"

"No can do," Denzel replied lazily. "Since you've pulled me back from the Virtual World, I might as well enjoy life as a living being for a while. During this time, my daily affairs will be under your care. Don't worry, I'll fulfill your requests as well... if I feel like it."=

"Now, Pankey, my first command is... Kill everyone here."

With a sudden splash of crimson staining the frame, the image of the tenth entry on the Schemer Rankings cut to black.

A tense silence fell over the Belldet garden as everyone turned toward Annan as one. The Mercury youth, in particular, locked onto her with a gaze as sharp as a needle. His voice dropped to a dangerous low. "One of the people in that banquet hall was my younger brother."

Quinna replied calmly, "Oh? Lucky him. At least he escaped becoming a Shadow Spirit."

Mercury's hostility instantly deflated. Quinna was right. In the original timeline, Harvey would eventually transform their entire family into Shadow Spirits anyway. Compared to that horrific fate, dying unknowingly at Annan's hands might actually be the better outcome.

Furthermore, this timeline made it clear that Annan's scheme had taken place before the Family Rankings. After all, by the time that ranking occurred, the Mercury family had already been turned into the undead.

Even so, the Mercury youth shot Annan a venomous glare and said coldly, "She must hand over the Crown Descent Ritual. Senheiser, you cannot monopolize this!"

Before Quinna could respond, Annan shook her head. "That's a ritual I'll learn only in the future. Right now, I don't know anything about it!"

The Kessriel sorcerer pressed, "Then who is Rusty Crow? In the projection, you said yourself that he gave you the ritual."

Annan kept shaking her head. "I don't know him yet. I really don't."

"How convenient that you know absolutely nothing," Kessriel sneered coldly. "Then you should at least know about the Dolan family inheritance, right? What exactly is the authority to gaze into infinite futures?"

Faced with the pressing interrogation of the Sacred Realm sorcerers, Annan simply lowered her head to avoid their gazes. She shrank behind Ashe, tugging tightly at his sleeve. Completely unfazed, Ashe openly pulled her along and hid behind Aunt Nona instead, like a child seeking refuge from a bully.

Nona didn't seem surprised by their closeness. From childhood until now, Annan's only relative had been her, and her only friend had been Pankey. As for Ashe... Nona glanced at her sister, who playfully blinked back as if saying: Help yourself.

Ignoring her sister's antics, Nona spoke softly to the two behind her. "Hold onto my waist. I'll fly us out of here if necessary."

Ashe blinked, glanced down at Nona's slender waist, and was just about to reach out when Annan swatted his hand away.

At that moment, Lys seemed to sense that her Daddy was about to be snatched away by some strange woman. She hurried over, dragging little Pankey along with her. Wearing an oversized shirt, Pankey tripped halfway and fell flat on his face. The blue-haired boy didn't cry. Instead, he bit his lip, puffed out his cheeks, and silently welled up with tears.

Ashe took Lys's hand and couldn't help but mutter to Annan, "Why do you have more entries on these rankings than us? Are you from another world, too, or what?"

Annan crouched down to wipe away Pankey's tears, replying irritably, "Do you think I wanted this? This isn't a beauty pageant... It's the Schemer Rankings! My reputation is completely ruined now, just like yours!"

And she was right. According to the ranking's description, Annan's scheme was originally only meant to acquire wealth. However, after the ritual succeeded and the entity known as Denzel was summoned to possess her, the crazed spirit slaughtered every guest present. With both lives and money lost, it was no wonder the financial factions that appeared in the projection as its supposed victims now glared at her with pure hatred.

More importantly, unlike Ashe and Harvey, Annan was a native resident. This meant the Woven Festival's prediction of her actions was highly reliable.

Furthermore, since no outsiders appeared in her projection, the possibility of future interference was essentially ruled out. In other words, unless something major changed, the future shown was practically a guarantee. Annan would perform the Crown Descent Ritual and massacre everyone for their fortunes.

Even if Quinna could protect Annan now, other families would surely send assassins to Vanmura to eliminate the Purple Moth later.

In fact, whether Quinna could even protect her now was up in the air. Annan had already appeared on the Woven Festival twice, proving how highly the Gospel valued her. Combined with the Crown Descent Ritual and the Dolan family inheritance, her overall value in the eyes of the crowd now faintly surpassed Ashe's and was second only to Harvey.

Right then, the Book of Gospel flashed.

[Annan Dolan receives the reward: Guilty Crown]

Guilty Crown

- The wearer of this crown shall have their crimes wiped from the Gospel's record. Every life claimed by their hand will be deemed nothing more than a casualty of a natural disaster.

Annan stared blankly at the crown in her hand, feeling vaguely insulted by the Gospel. If she wanted to commit a crime, did the book really think she couldn't handle the law herself?

Ashe leaned over and whispered, "Queen Annan, should we try killing someone to test it out?"

"There's no need. Literally anything counts, so even causing a minor injury works," Annan glanced at him sideways. "Why don't you stick your tongue out and let me bite it? Let's see if the Gospel counts that as intentional harm."

Lys looked longingly at the jeweled crown. Noticing her gaze, Annan asked, "Lys, do you want it?"

"Mmhmm!"

"Thank you, Aunt Annan!"

Annan immediately nudged Ashe's waist with his elbow. Ashe shook his head in response, signaling that he hadn't taught the girl to say that. If he had, Lys would be calling her "Annan, the purple old hag" instead!

"Wrong, wrong. Try again," Annan coaxed.

Lys hesitated, her gaze darting back and forth between Annan and Ashe. After a long internal struggle, she finally succumbed to the temptation of the beautiful crown.

"Thank you... Mama Annan?"

Annan sighed. "Still wrong."

Nevertheless, she smiled as she placed the crown gently onto Lys' head.

Little Pankey tilted his head, then suddenly jumped with joy. "Queen Lys!"

At that moment, the Book of Gospel lit up once more, revealing the next entry.

[Schemer Ranking No. 9: Kross's Wisdom Reclamation Ritual]

Synopsis: According to the description, Kross of the Kessriel family was a legendary Fate Class sorcerer. To obtain his ancestral wisdom, Juventus of the Kessriel clan allegedly sacrificed one Sacred Realm sorcerer and one hundred ordinary Kessriel clansmen on April 10, 1678, to activate the Wisdom Reclamation Ritual.

Culprit: Juventus Kessriel

Instantly, the opposing group of sorcerers scattered in a panic, leaving only a single Sacred Realm sorcerer standing completely frozen in place.

Ashe looked over in surprise. "What happened to him?"

"That," Nona replied with a cold smirk, "is Juventus Kessriel."

Ashe smiled. So this is what it feels like to watch the rankings together.

Finally, for once, they got to eat popcorn and enjoy the drama as it blew up right in the enemy's face.