Camus went silent again.

It was as if every one of her actions existed solely to point out the flaws in Saul’s experiment.

Yet when Saul brought the materials back over, crouched down in front of her again, she said nothing once more.

Just twisted her neck and kept staring at his back.

At first glance, it was actually kind of creepy.

Seeing that Camus still wouldn’t move, Saul looked down at the beaker in his hand, then casually tossed in a magic crystal.

At that moment, Camus’s head snapped around. “The magic power in magic crystals is impure. It’s not suitable to be added directly to the materials.”

Saul responded immediately, “But to strip and purify this layer of… energy shield on you, only magic will work. Mental force would cause contamination.”

Camus went silent again.

Saul’s teeth ached.

After a moment of thought, he tossed in another magic crystal.

This batch of materials was basically ruined anyway—but that didn’t matter. The source of materials was right in front of him, and staying perfectly still for his use.

“The magic power in magic crystals is impure. It’s not suitable to be added directly to the materials.”

The second crystal landed in the beaker, earning him the exact same line from Camus.

The corner of Saul’s mouth lifted slightly as he stood up again. “Little Algae.”

A black vine-like tentacle emerged.

Ever since the mission to plant Little Algae had been disrupted by Camus last time, Saul hadn’t let it go underground again—just in case it caused any more danger below.

So for now, it still stayed parasitized at the back of Saul’s neck.

Not in a rush to rebuild its foundation, it spent its days happily playing with the occasionally-emerging Penny.

“Little Algae, I’ve got a task for you. Here’s a beaker, and here’s a pile of magic crystals…” Saul paused mid-instruction, thinking it was a bit wasteful, so he ground the thumb-sized crystals down to millet-sized fragments.

“Your task is to count to ten—then drop one crystal fragment into the beaker.”

Little Algae nodded happily, splitting off a thin tendril that carefully picked up a tiny fragment with its tip, then went plop as it dropped it into the beaker.

“The magic power in magic crystals is impure. It’s not suitable to be added directly to the materials.”

Sure enough, Camus’s mechanical warning came again.

This time Saul didn’t get mad. He simply turned back to his experiment.

He wasn’t even annoyed by the repeated voice behind him—just treated it like background music.

“You like pretending to be a robot, huh?” he thought, distracted. “Let’s see if you’ve got the patience of a machine, then.”

Ten minutes later…

Little Algae still hadn’t finished tossing all the fragments—it tended to mess up its counting between one and ten, and the timing of each count varied wildly.

Then Saul heard a different voice.

“This is meaningless,” the voice said softly, almost like a sigh.

Saul didn’t even look back. “How is it meaningless? It’s called ‘OCD therapy.’”

No reply again.

Saul didn’t call it off. Little Algae kept tossing.

Plop!

“I don’t know what else to say except that.”

Perfect. Finally, something other than repetition.

Saul wiped the smile off his face and turned around. “Communication should depend on the situation, the person you’re talking to, and the prior context. For example, if I ask you—who are you? Where did you come from? Why did you come up from underground?”

Camus was silent for a moment, then finally tried to answer: “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Amnesia?” Saul had considered the possibility. After all, she was in a soul state now—who knew what she’d been through between life and death?

“So before you woke up this time, did you remember anything at all? Try to recall—don’t just say ‘I don’t know’ right away.”

Camus froze as if her system had crashed.

This time, Saul patiently waited five minutes.

“Water everywhere… I was disappearing…” Her voice trembled slightly, though her face remained expressionless.

“Water? Could it be Lake Rhine?” Saul frowned. That didn’t seem right.

Something from below the lake that could absorb spirit bodies and magic shouldn’t have been able to completely trap a Third Rank.

“Maybe she was caught by some powerful rule, or killed and had her power stripped away,” Saul speculated.

Then he asked, “You said you were disappearing—was that why you created this protective layer around your soul body?”

Camus fell into thought again, but this time for a shorter period.

“I think so.”

Saul asked a few more questions—some he repeated in various ways—and finally came to a conclusion.

Camus had amnesia.

“There’s one black diary page left… Should I try putting her in the diary?”

With the diary’s purification ability, it might help Camus recover her memory.

Saul was tempted to try, but when he went to implement it, he ran into a problem.

He couldn’t absorb Camus!

Even just trying to pull in a finger—he failed!

It was as if she wasn’t a pure soul anymore, affected by some other power or pollution.

“There’s definitely some other secret beneath that pale-gray outer layer.”

If the diary couldn’t absorb Camus’s soul, then a Third Rank wizard posed a far greater threat.

But a Third Rank who had lost her memory, yet still retained instinctual knowledge? Saul didn’t have the heart to discard or destroy that soul.

“Better to keep her around and observe.”

Saul didn’t dwell on it too long.

He reinforced the formation restricting Camus—and very bluntly discussed with her how best to limit herself.

Camus didn’t seem to think there was anything odd about that. With her usual blank expression, she answered Saul’s questions earnestly.

Apparently being bound wasn’t a problem. Watching Little Algae mess with materials seemed more important.

Just as Saul was happily watching Camus “weave her own cocoon,” Little Algae—whether zoning out or just completely messing up its count—finally reached ten again.

Plop!

It tossed another crystal into the beaker.

“The magic power in magic crystals is impure. It’s not suitable to be added directly to the materials.” Camus couldn’t help herself—she blurted it out.

Little Algae grinned and wobbled happily.

Saul: “…”

“You can stop now, Little Algae.”

And just like that, Camus obediently remained confined in the underground first floor of the Wizard Tower.

Not only did she cooperate with Saul’s experiments, she even helped with improving her own restraints.

From the look of her, she seemed to genuinely enjoy researching knowledge. She didn’t care at all about being trapped in a space less than four square meters.

When the Old Witch heard that the wooden puppet of a soul had started speaking, she couldn’t resist coming to watch the show.

At this point, the Old Witch had transformed from a chibi four-head-tall girl into a five-head-tall one.

From little loli to big loli.

Body was passable now—but the head was still just as hideous.

Saul noticed that Camus was staring at the Old Witch’s exposed arm but said nothing, so he asked, “What do you think of the Old Witch’s body transformation?”

Camus withdrew her gaze. “I don’t comment on failed creations.”

“Who are you calling a failed creation?” The Old Witch could tolerate Saul—but not Camus. Especially since she didn’t know Camus’s potential identity.

She immediately sealed the air around Camus and began compressing it inward.

But Camus didn’t budge an inch—her form remained completely unaffected.

The Old Witch’s eyes flickered, then she abruptly switched spells, extracting all energy from around Camus.

Yet there was still no reaction.

Only then did Saul step in. “Can’t you tell her soul is… off? Why are you getting worked up?”

He was much more interested in that protective layer surrounding Camus now.

One of the reasons for keeping her around was to find a way to wrap himself and the other soul bodies in that same layer.

Of course, that was only if the grayish-white shield didn’t harm his own soul.

So the test subjects… would have to be the other soul bodies first!

(End of chapter)

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