Oqili didn’t seem to believe that Saul was skilled in Wizard Body modification. He was probably only talking to him because he’d been locked up for so long he was already half-mad.

Saul didn’t rush to prove his abilities either.

After all, the more dangerous the situation, the more the diary could unleash its extraordinary warning abilities.

Right, dear diary?

“How long have you all been locked up here? Has anyone ever gotten out?”

Sure enough, Oqili had lost it. Though he looked sluggish, that didn’t stop him from replying right away.

“I’ve been locked up here for three years. I’ve never seen anyone leave in one piece. In chunks, or thousands of pieces? That I’ve seen plenty.”

Looks like the fates of those imprisoned here weren’t exactly pleasant. But for Oqili to survive in such an environment for three years, he must have his own tricks.

Saul decided to pay close attention to how Oqili managed to stay alive.

Of course, Saul’s goal wasn’t just survival. But he reminded himself of one thing: In the Borderland, before making a move, you have to understand the rules.

Saul had already shown a portion of his hand. The Old Witch would at least give him some time to prove his usefulness.

Facing Oqili, Saul put on a curious look like a child, “If we help the Old Witch complete her perfect talent-based Wizard Body modification, do you think she’d let us go?”

This time, Oqili finally lifted his eyelids and gave Saul a glance.

“Perfect talent? You’re not wrong—if such a modification succeeded, it’d indeed be a perfect talent. But do you think that’s possible?”

“Perfect might be out of reach, but we have to at least try to get close. Otherwise, what? Just sit here and wait to die? She’s a Second Rank wizard. Unless one of us can advance here and now in this kind of environment, killing us would be effortless for her.”

Saul appeared very motivated. He reached out to grab the bars in front of him and tried channeling his magic.

But after all that effort, the magic he produced could only light a tiny flame.

He then tried to snap the bars, but these wooden-looking rails were made from who-knew-what material—they didn’t budge an inch.

Saul continued by trying to vibrate his mental energy to soften and deform his skin, but at most, he could make his skin turn faintly translucent. Any more than that, and the cage would suppress him, forcibly stabilizing his soul body.

He let go and said to Oqili, “What a formidable cage. I’ve never seen material like this.”

“There’s a lot you haven’t seen. Judging by your face, you’re not even thirty yet. These young wizards nowadays, they hear that the Borderland is full of rare materials, and without gauging their own strength, they just charge in headfirst.”

Watching Saul fumble with nothing to show for it, Oqili’s lips curled into a mocking smile. But then, remembering his own situation, the smile turned bitter.

“Master Oqili, with your broad knowledge and rich experience, is there truly no way out of here?”

“No.” Oqili answered swiftly this time, then with effort, lay back down again. “Don’t waste your energy. The Old Witch won’t let you off just because of a few clever words. Better think about surviving tomorrow’s test.”

Seeing Oqili unwilling to talk further, Saul turned to observe the others. But they were either motionless and unresponsive, or seemingly couldn’t understand a word he said.

Take that barbarian, for example.

Saul closed his eyes and pretended to rest while conversing silently with the consciousnesses in his mind.

The lighting was dim, and no one could tell how much time had passed.

The door creaked open again. The Old Witch walked in, pushing a small cart.

Judging by the changes in his body and the state of his soul body, Saul estimated it had been about three hours.

“Time to eat. Honestly, I still have to cook for you a lot. But be sure to thank the newcomer—because of him, today’s meal includes mushrooms!”

Except for the barbarian, everyone received a bowl of soup. A few pure white mushrooms floated on top.

The bowls were small enough to fit through the gaps between the bars.

Saul was the last to receive his. As he hesitated with the bowl in hand, the others had already begun slurping eagerly.

The broth was crystal clear with a hint of oil, and two thumb-sized mushrooms floated on top.

As Saul looked at the mushrooms, he immediately noticed they resembled the ones growing on the coachman Marsh’s head.

It made him suspect again: Had the Old Witch really planted Marsh in the ground? Unfortunately, there was no way for him to find out now. Still, Marsh’s mushrooms were in a symbiotic state with him. As long as the Old Witch hadn’t killed him at the start, and she wanted more mushrooms, she probably wouldn’t kill him either.

The mushrooms looked ordinary, but the soup clearly wasn’t.

Saul narrowed his eyes—and the moment he focused, the transparent soup turned inky green, with little yellow bubbles floating within.

It looked eerie and disturbing.

Who knew if it was poisoned?

Seeing Saul hadn’t taken a sip yet, the Old Witch tapped the bars with her finger.

Clang Clang!

“If you don’t want to die, drink it. Or I’ll dissect you right now.”

[Agu: This potion is called Fletcher’s Heartfelt Soup. It’s a low-cost potion used to maintain basic life functions. The person who invented it originally made it to imprison a runaway lover. Anyone who drinks this will lose their sense of direction.]

Saul clicked his tongue. Seeing the Old Witch squinting at him already, he quickly tipped the bowl and downed the heartfelt soup in one gulp.

Once she saw Saul finish every last drop, the Old Witch finally let out a snort and took away the empty bowl.

No one was allowed to keep their bowl—the Old Witch wasn’t about to let them stash any items in the cage.

Oqili took another glance at Saul after finishing his soup. “From now on, you really won’t be able to leave anymore.”

He sounded disappointed that Saul had been so obedient. After speaking, he turned his back and lay down.

This time, Saul didn’t try talking to him again.

Because right then, the two mushrooms he had just gulped down began dancing on his tongue.

They twirled around for a while, then, seemingly exhausted, slid smoothly down his throat.

Saul lowered his head and covered his face, recalling the image the mushrooms had drawn on his tongue.

It seemed to say: “I’m okay. Two.”

“Two… What does that mean?” Saul wiped his face and looked up again.

“Huh!”

He suddenly realized—the Old Witch had somehow returned. Her face was pressed right up against the bars, staring at him.

Had she been there the whole time?

“Dizzy yet? Heh, it’s always like this the first time. You’ll get used to it after a few more rounds.”

Hearing this, Saul instantly understood: first-time drinkers of the heartfelt soup would probably get disoriented from losing their sense of direction.

But he didn’t feel anything at all.

No time to wonder why—he switched into acting mode immediately.

He drew on his memories of being half-drunk, gazing at the Old Witch with a dazed expression and staying silent.

The Old Witch seemed amused. She reached through the bars and dragged Saul out.

Saul followed behind her listlessly.

“Where… are we going?” He wasn’t sure if he should act more confused, so he simply slowed his speech, not daring to overdo it.

The Old Witch laughed. “To my lab. If you behave, you might just get to come back.”

(End of Chapter)

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