The Sorcerer's Handbook

A little past 7 p.m. on May 19th.

With less than twenty-eight hours remaining before the second Future Ranking was set for release, Ashe found himself facing a crisis. He had been stood up.

Over the past few days, Ashe had finally assembled an elite raid team, serving as their commander. Together, they had pushed through stage after grueling stage until they reached the third phase of the Sovereign Blade-Carp. They were on the verge of clearing the raid tonight, but at the last moment, the team's tank had a real-life emergency. Work had called, and he wouldn't be able to make the session.

Ashe was left with two choices. Either he gave the entire team the night off, or he recruited a random player to fill the slot. Since most high-level raid strategies followed a similar logic, any "pickup" player with experience in the third phase should theoretically be able to slot in and help them secure a clear.

However, the game offered no way to verify a player's credentials. If a recruit lied about their progress, the team would spend the entire night trapped in the "Dragon-Slaying Dance," the Sovereign Blade-Carp's first-phase wipe mechanic that demanded flawless coordination.

Ashe had done the same thing before. When he had barely mastered the second phase, he had boldly talked his way into a "1% Clear Tonight" group, a team of elites who had already brought the boss to the brink of death. By faking his credentials, he was able to observe high-level tactics firsthand. It was the only way he could have crammed months of leadership experience into just a few days.

Beyond the mechanics, there was the social fallout to consider. If they cleared the raid tonight, would they have to run it again tomorrow for the absent teammate? What if the others refused? That teammate had fought beside them for nights on end. It felt wrong to leave him behind at the finish line.

These past few days hadn't just sharpened Ashe's tactical mind. They had been a crash course in management. He had learned the delicate balance of leadership, such as whether he should message a struggling teammate privately or call them out in voice chat, how many warnings a late player got before being replaced, and how he could mediate an argument without losing the team's momentum.

Initially, Ashe had dreamed of recruiting a massive army of top-tier operators. But after tasting the bitterness of team management, he realized that having the Witch as his left hand and the Swordswoman as his right was plenty. He could expand the roster slowly.

Compared to the stress of a forced raid, taking a break carried zero risk. A break wouldn't stall progress, wouldn't trigger a boss's enrage timer, and wouldn't frustrate the crew. A break was the logical choice.

But if I take the night off, what am I supposed to do?

Ashe pondered the question, his thumb brushing the Senheiser mark on the back of his hand. If they truly had to move once the second ranking was released, he had, at most, two chances left to experience the Senheiser dreamland.

Everyone else had already basked in the dream several times. Ashe, however, had spent every waking second raiding, leaving his substitute to handle the dream expeditions. He hadn't experienced the dreamland even once. It felt like traveling to a world-famous landmark only to spend the entire trip in a hotel room. When it was all over, his friends would reminisce about breathtaking sights and exotic delicacies, while his only memory would be the thread count of the hotel sheets.

If he didn't visit the dream at least once, his time in Vanmura would feel like a total waste.

Determined, Ashe opened the Aurora Sorcerer's Handbook, navigated to [Virtual World Exploration] → [Dream Expedition], and prepared to cancel the substitute's expedition.

Tonight, I'm going in myself!

[Warning: The operator's soul has not yet fully recovered. A personal expedition will yield no Dream Fragments!]

I don't care about the fragments. I just want to see it!

[Warning: Canceling this expedition will cause a sharp drop in tomorrow's rewards!]

I might not even be here tomorrow!

[Warning: Are you sure you want to cancel the expedition?]

Just as Ashe was about to hit confirm, a demonic, noble version of himself manifested in his mind. "The system has warned you repeatedly. Don't be ungrateful. Just behave and follow the instructions."

Then, a holy seraph version of himself appeared. "He just wants to have a little fun. What's the harm in that?"

The demonic noble scoffed. "What's the point of fun? The cost is losing Dream Fragments, and something worse might happen. This is a meaningless impulse. What if his soul is damaged further, and the recovery time is extended? What if he misses the Spider Tower cycle? Will you take responsibility?"

The holy seraph nodded solemnly. "You make a very good point. Ashe, let's not go."

You gave up way too fast! Ashe complained internally. And since when did my imagination become vivid enough to stage a full-blown debate?

He scratched his head. Still, since the conclusion had come from his own mind, he followed it instinctively. Even if his team couldn't raid together tonight, Ashe could still join a random PUG (Pick-Up Group). The quality of the teammates would be a gamble, and there would undoubtedly be players faking their progress.

Still, since Ashe had been that liar once before, he decided to treat the night as a way of repaying a debt, something he thought of as a little bit of "raid charity."

***

Within the Senheiser dreamland.

The Witch materialized in the initial zone. She let out a long, shaky breath. "That was close. Good thing we reacted fast, or Ashe would have barged right in."

Another witch, clad in oversized pajamas, shifted hesitantly. "But isn't this... wrong? Disguising ourselves as his inner voices to give him hints? The Watcher might not know, but the Swordswoman will be furious. She hates it when we interfere with Ashe."

The first witch waved her concerns off dismissively. "Who cares about that crazy woman? Still... I was curious to see what would happen if Ashe actually entered the dream. Heh~"

"Nothing would happen," the pajama witch replied flatly. "Knowing Ashe, he'd probably just spend the entire night grinding the Legendary Sorcerer Arena."

The first witch mused. "Honestly, the fact that he actually believed those inner voices is what shocked me most. Sister White, you met the younger Watcher back in the day. Was he always that innocent?"

The White Witch went silent, thinking. "The younger Watcher? I can't remember him at all. But I can guarantee this. His cleanest and purest organ was his large intestine. Everything else was polluted with heavy metals, buried in contaminated soil, and breathing toxic air. Black, do you remember him?"

The Black Witch didn't answer with words. She began spinning in circles, chanting rhythmically. "La la la, la la la, la la la la~ Watcher~ Watcher~ Watcher~ blegh—"

Without warning, she doubled over and vomited a thick mass of black ink. The other sisters recoiled instantly, clearing a wide berth.

The lead witch clapped her hands, drawing their attention back. "Alright, recess is over. Go meet your lovers."

The White Witch suddenly raised her voice, her tone sharp with excitement. "Everyone! Tonight is our last night in the dream!"

The sisters' eyes lit up in unison. Before the echo of her voice died down, they had already retreated into the white mist and vanished. Even the black witch, still wiping ink from her mouth, was gone in a flash.

The lead witch's lip twitched. She reached out and snatched the slowest among them by the collar, the pajama-clad witch.

The pajama witch protested, looking bewildered. "I didn't do anything! Why grab me? Go grab Sister White! She's the mastermind behind all these!"

"The moment you heard tonight was the final night, you were already plotting something terrible."

"Everyone is! Don't tell me you aren't thinking it too. Causing trouble now comes with zero consequences!"

In response, the lead witch grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head hard into the ground. Thud. She paused, then slammed it again. Thud.

"Of!" Thud. "Course!" Thud. "You'd!" Thud. "Suffer!" Thud. "No!" Thud. "Consequences!"

She hissed between strikes, her voice dripping with irritation. "When the time comes, the one who gets ganged up on by the Watcher and the Swordswoman is me! The one who gets scolded is me! They are so incredibly annoying!"

The pajama witch's forehead split open from the impact. Crimson blood streamed down the bridge of her nose in two steady lines, turning her innocent face into a mask of gore. Yet she didn't fight back. She simply let her sister handle her like a ragdoll, her lips curling into a teasing, bloody smile. "What does that have to do with me? I'm not the one getting yelled at. Now let go!"

The lead witch sighed, releasing her grip. "Forget it. The Watcher probably factored in this margin of error anyway. Let's swap positions tonight. You go to Dia's side. I'm going to the Red Death Apostle."

"Why?"

"Because I want to see her one last time," the witch's lips curled into a cruel, knowing smile. "If I remember correctly... tonight is the night she dies."

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