Sorcerer’s Handbook

Fernand Snow could no longer recall why he harbored ambitions unbecoming of an Ogre.

Was it because he saw those well-dressed councilors arriving at the Knucklebone Nursery, caressing Orc children with smiles on their faces while their eyes couldn’t even bother to hide their disdain?

Or was it because he longed for the grand mansions and elegant, high-society life depicted in the Shadow Drama?

Or perhaps it was because… he saw on the Holographic Screen that confident Human mayor raising his right fist, uttering lies not even Orc children would believe: “To make all races greater!”

In any case, Fernand Snow began a life utterly different from that of other Ogres: after fighting for and seizing food, he would sneak into a corner, turn on the Holographic Screen, and watch the day’s tutoring videos from Emerald Garden.

While each child starts with a complete set of general education materials and could theoretically master all the knowledge on their own, those aspiring for middle school, university, or even the Research Institute must deeply grasp the knowledge, far beyond what the textbooks cover.

Nurseries with resources naturally hire teachers to tutor the children. Clearly, Knucklebone lacked such resources, and the average educational level of Orcs and Ogres emerging from there was merely prenatal education.

Perhaps for the sake of reputation or to set an example, the Double First-Class Nurseries would upload their instructional videos to the Curtain. Children without such educational privileges could download these videos for self-study. After all, everyone had a Chip; there were no barriers to downloading.

It was an unforgettable memory for Fernand Snow: battered and bruised after a fight, he would sit in a cold, foul-smelling corner, watching Orcs and Ogres battling fiercely on the sandy grounds, an Ogre nearby eating and defecating simultaneously, and an Orc adding his toenails to a sandwich.

On the other side, he saw through the screen: pristine classrooms, erudite and cultured teachers, and students amidst laughter and chatter.

Years had passed, yet Fernand Snow could still recall the surging emotions of his youth, the flames that fiercely scorched his Soul reigniting within his chest—a flame called—

Shame!

“…Now, the Audience is familiar with these eight Redeemed, but surely everyone has a question in mind: why would Fernand Snow, the mayor who is currently suspended, participate in this trial when he is not a sinner?”

Upon hearing this, Fernand Snow looked up to see a Prison Guard standing at the edge of the Sea-view Terrace, the very one who had escorted him to Shattered Lake.

He remembered now. It was after signing the Catalog of Sinners that his powers were restrained, and then he was suddenly stabbed by an uprising guard, which led to his current unconscious state.

Looking closely, he realized the guard wasn’t speaking to them but to the Camera Eye.

Prison… live broadcast… Blood Moon…

The Ogre narrowed his eyes and turned to the Human beside him: “Director Laidor, who is he?”

Even though it was Fernand Snow who had orchestrated Laidor’s downfall from the Project Office, the former director instinctively replied, “That’s Ashe Heath.”

After a pause, he added, “He’s a Death row inmate who should be serving his sentence in prison.”

Everything clicked for Fernand Snow; he looked at Ashe, only to find Ashe also watching him. Ashe held the Catalog of Sinners, covering his face, leaving only a pair of indifferent eyes visible.

“The reason Mayor Fernand Snow is present here is because I have a friend who said he is a bad man, who has merely exploited legal loopholes to escape scrutiny time and again.”

Fernand Snow smirked dismissively, uninterested in responding.

Ashe continued, “Of course, ‘I have a friend’ isn’t exactly what you’d call evidence. In fact, according to the investigation files of the Sin Hunter’s Hall’s Memory Masters, while there are many unexplained mysteries and gaps in memory, strictly speaking, Mayor Fernand Snow has not engaged in any illegal activities.”

“As everyone knows, the true arbiters of the Blood Moon Tribunal are not the mayor, the Sin Hunter’s Hall, or even a humble host like myself, but the astute citizens watching through the Holographic Screen. Your Redemption Tickets are the key that guide the course of this trial.”

“Of course, I doubt you’d be swayed by the words of a former Death row inmate like me to summon our law-abiding mayor to an early audience with the Blood Moon Sovereign.”

“And this is precisely what makes the Blood Moon Tribunal I’ve orchestrated so intriguing.”

“Unlike Mayor Fernand Snow, the other seven former councilors, officials, and gang members are confirmed scum with solid evidence of their crimes. If the Broadcast Station is reluctant to cut the signal, then the citizens can click on the portraits to access the criminal records of these seven losers.”

“In theory, the Redeemed of this trial will only be selected from among you seven. But now, I give you a chance.”

Ashe pointed at the Ogre: “You may speak of Mayor Fernand Snow’s illegal activities to garner votes for him. Naturally, this would mean your own escape from calamity. Based on my understanding of the citizens and my own experiences, the more detailed and significant your reports are, the fewer votes you will receive.”

The crowd’s expression changed slightly, and Moken, the former secretary and Orc, exclaimed loudly, “I accuse Fernand Snow of hiring assassins to kill—Ahh!!!”

Moken suddenly let out a piercing scream. The red Stone Seat he was sitting on began to emit smoke as if it were rapidly heating up, causing the skin in contact with the seat to be seared!

“Ah, almost forgot to mention, for this trial, the Executioner has been enhanced with the ‘Mouth of Lies’,” Ashe’s voice carried no hint of apology, only a tone of schadenfreude: “If you lie, slander, or fabricate—speak anything even you can’t verify—the Executioner’s mouth will continue to heat up, and up, until you’re turned into a delightful cooked dish. I’m truly grateful to Sin Hunter’s Hall for the technical support provided for this trial.”

The Mouth of Lies!?

The faces of the crowd changed drastically, but they found that they couldn’t break free from the Stone Seat, as if they were glued to it. Not only that, they were also unable to channel arcane energy to attack anyone—this Blood Moon Tribunal was too absurd, granting them only the right to speak while keeping all other abilities restricted!

“That’s right, the eight Pillars you’re sitting on are actually the Executioner itself. Congratulations, there aren’t many in the world who have the privilege of sitting on an Executioner.”

How about I switch with you! The crowd cursed inwardly, glaring fiercely at Ashe.

“Wait a minute.”

Andrei, wearing silver-framed glasses and resembling a middle-aged Scholar, raised his hand and asked, “Firstly, it is known that Fernand Snow has not committed any crimes. Secondly, we cannot make claims we can’t verify. With this in mind, it’s impossible for us to articulate any ‘illegal activities’ of Fernand Snow.”

Ashe looked toward Andrei.

“That’s correct, you’ve got it right, so I’m not actually asking you to state any ‘criminal facts’. What I’m expecting is for you to talk about those legally illegal actions of Fernand Snow.”

Legally illegal actions?

Everyone seated was a battle-hardened politician or official who had worked hard to climb to the upper echelons of Kaimon City. With Ashe’s words, they immediately understood his insinuation, and their expressions turned exceedingly grim, Fernand Snow included!

“Aha.”

In the department head’s office of the Sin Hunter’s Hall, the department head flipped open a file, on it was Ashe Heath’s resume.

“It’s strange, there are no government officials among the victims of the Four Pillars Cult, and he hasn’t been involved in any related work… Could someone have leaked information to him? Or did he figure it out all on his own?”

“It seems that he isn’t just harboring a grudge against Fernand Snow or trying to provoke the Sin Hunter’s Hall; rather, he’s attempting to test the deep-seated Rules that govern society.”

“This could cause a major headache for both the Research Institute and the Church…”

“However…”

The department head propped up a cheek, the corners of the mouth curling into a slight smile, eyes ringed with dark circles but gleaming with anticipation.

“It’s been more than a hundred years since I’ve encountered any trouble.”

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