Useful people still have the chance to be locked up.

Useless people become nothing more than dismembered materials.

“What kind of person is considered useful to you?” Saul looked the Old Witch in the eye and asked calmly.

“Heh, you seem to have a decent head on your shoulders.” The Old Witch withdrew her hand. “I want to forge the most perfect body. It must have the beauty of elves, the resilience of giants, the strength of dwarves, the adaptability of barbarians—and most importantly, it must have a genius-level elemental magic adaptability.”

The Old Witch looked at Saul like she was appraising meat on a butcher’s block, weighing which part was fat and which part was lean.

“I’m close to success. When the time comes, I will become the most gifted of all wizards. Those so-called Dreammaker, Lord of Fireflies, and Wind Sprite will be mere foils next to me.”

Claude had once told Saul that there were currently no Fourth Rank Wizard in the Borderland. The three most powerful Third Rank Wizard were widely considered to be Dreammaker Clark, Lord of Fireflies Herbert, and Wind Sprite Pei’er.

Saul suddenly understood. “I see. You need an assistant to help with your experiments.”

The Old Witch didn’t deny it.

Saul offered a humble smile. “As it happens, I have some skill in researching wizard-body modification formulas.”

“Hehehehe…” The Old Witch laughed, her little finger twitching madly behind her head.

“A mere First Rank Wizard dares to claim they’re skilled? Are all young people this arrogant nowadays? Do you think the kind of modification I seek is as simple as what an apprentice might do—adding an eye or swapping blood?”

“No.” Saul knew it was always best to back up one’s words. He raised his hand, and his fingertip gradually turned transparent. “I’ve undergone two rounds of body modification myself. I know very well it’s not just about swapping some tissues.”

The Old Witch’s eyes locked onto Saul’s hand, watching as his skin and the muscle and blood vessels beneath turned semi-transparent gray, revealing the white bone at the center.

“True modification involves multiple body systems. One must also consider allergies, immune responses, self-repair capabilities, and the flow of magic and mental energy. Sometimes, what looks like a clash between materials is actually caused by microscopic tissue failure under the modification conditions.”

As she listened and watched Saul’s finger transform, the Old Witch’s scornful expression began to fade. Her eyes narrowed slightly. She pressed her lips together, though the blood-red corners of her mouth slowly curled upward.

“Interesting. Let me ask you a question. If your answer satisfies me, then at least until I finish my modifications, you won’t have to die.”

“Please ask.”

“How does one prevent bodily aging? How do you extend the lifespan of microtissues?”

Saul lowered his gaze, forcing himself not to look at the Old Witch’s withered, wrinkled face.

After a moment of thought, he answered, “Aging on the surface is due to tissue shrinkage; they’re no longer plump like when newly formed. Internal aging comes from slower regeneration. So we can address it in two ways: first, by supplementing; second, by accelerating tissue regeneration.”

He deliberately left a flaw in his answer.

It was just a test. There was no need to offer her a perfect explanation. Besides, giving the Old Witch a flaw might be giving himself a future lifeline.

Suddenly, the Old Witch reached into the cage and grabbed Saul’s arm. Her fingertips tightened, sharp nails scratching his semi-transparent skin and leaving several bloody marks.

Red blood dripped from the wounds, mixed with some barely visible gray granules.

The Old Witch withdrew her hand and licked her fingertips one by one, the dark purple tip of her tongue smearing red across it.

“Hehehe… Hahaha…” She shook with laughter, her wrinkled face trembling with each chuckle.

After nearly a full minute of laughing, she suddenly turned her head toward the neighboring cage and said to the person inside, “Oqili, I’ve found someone to replace you. Be careful now~”

Saul turned to look as well.

In the same type of wooden cage, about four or five meters to his left, a person lay on their side with their back facing them.

The cage was small, forcing the person to curl up tightly, with both head and knees tucked to their chest.

Hearing the Old Witch’s words, the person only shifted slightly, without offering a response.

The Old Witch didn’t mind. Gripping the cage’s wooden bars, she slowly pulled herself up.

“Well then, I’m off to check on my little darling. I’ll come see you again tomorrow. Use this time to think more carefully about my question. I don’t want just a few seemingly correct big-picture answers.”

She turned and walked toward the door.

Saul stepped closer to the bars. “Old Witch, my coachman…”

“At the moment, he’s more useful than you. Better think about how to keep yourself alive.”

The Old Witch stepped out and closed the door.

Saul noted that the room outside was dim as well.

It seemed he was the only one still conscious in this room. The figures in the other cages were either curled up sitting or curled up lying down.

They looked like they’d been locked up for quite a long time.

There were likely magic formations imbued into the cages that restricted power. While sitting here, Saul’s magic and mental fluctuations were forcefully suppressed to extremely low levels.

With no way to open the cage for now, Saul shifted his attention to the room.

Rough stone bricks lined the walls, ceiling, and floor. The shape of the room itself was irregular, and the ground formed a crude polygon.

The only source of light was a plant with an oval-shaped bud, which looked so wilted it was on the verge of dying.

Around the glowing plant were several wooden cages placed at various distances.

Saul’s cage was the farthest back, right against the wall.

Upon closer inspection, he realized there were five other occupied cages besides his own.

Three of those occupants had particularly unusual physiques.

In the cage directly across from Saul sat a giant.

Saul’s own cage stood just over a meter tall, but the one across from him was nearly two meters. Even so, when the giant sat curled up inside, his head still pressed against the top of the cage.

He looked extremely uncomfortable.

Next to the giant was someone the complete opposite—a dwarf, barely a meter tall by rough estimate.

To Saul’s left, against the wall, lay a man with his upper body on the ground and his legs curled up and propped against the wall.

Saul noticed the black markings on his body and concluded the man was likely a barbarian—more specifically, a barbarian priest, one of their spellcasting types.

Next to the man the Old Witch had called Oqili—on Oqili’s left—was probably a true wizard as well, but this one’s aura was faint and weak.

Perhaps sensing Saul’s gaze—or maybe emboldened by the Old Witch’s departure—Oqili, who had been curled on the ground, slowly sat up.

He looked to be no longer young, with greying temples and large patches of age spots covering his skin.

“Let’s hope you really do know wizard-body modification,” Oqili said, staring at his own toes. “The last two who claimed they did… are now nothing more than silent, motionless magic materials.”

It was good to have someone to talk to.

Taking advantage of his relatively small frame, Saul shifted his posture in the cage. “The Old Witch captured us all just to assist her in those modification experiments?”

“Of course not,” Oqili replied listlessly, still not looking at Saul. “Outsiders… The Borderland has many magic materials found nowhere else. But here, wizards themselves are also just another kind of material.”

(End of Chapter)

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