Camus claimed that the Old Witch’s body modification was a failed creation.

Even though Saul had been the secondary designer of that modification, he didn’t take offense at Camus’s evaluation.

His redesign had, after all, been based on the Old Witch’s original framework, with further refinements added—and he had also integrated a bit of fleshcraft as an experiment.

Back then, Saul had even considered accepting the procedure himself if the Old Witch had insisted on him becoming the test subject. Of course, he’d planned to improve it afterward, possibly even scrap the entire formula for the perfect body and start over from scratch.

After all, when he derived the perfect body’s formula, time had been tight and materials scarce.

Moving forward, Saul intended to continue researching the principles behind Camus’s protective barrier—both its formation and maintenance—as a foundation for perfecting his own work on the perfect body and fleshcraft modifications.

Most of the experimental materials he’d asked Jiajia Gu to collect were meant for this body modification endeavor.

Only after thorough theoretical analysis and practical testing would he finally apply it to himself.

Camus was proving to be an excellent theoretical advisor—offering her insights without complaint. Her suggestions were given with no ill intent.

The only one unhappy about all this was the Old Witch.

She was constantly being brought up as a negative example.

Over time, she grew unwilling to come watch Saul and Camus’s experiments. She didn’t like theoretical work to begin with, and after leaving behind some of her body tissue, she returned to the second floor of the Wizard Tower, focusing fully on adapting to her perfect body. Her height, consequently, had been shooting up day by day.

Spring passed, and summer came.

But the Purity Wizard Tower remained steeped in a chilly, early-winter atmosphere.

Jiajia Gu visits almost once every month.

Last month, Saul had cleansed his back of pollution again.

As a result, Jiajia Gu was now able to separate his backpack from his back.

But after three seconds of contemplation, he still chose to keep the pack strapped on.

What could you do? This was adult life—full of compromises. Even knowing something was harmful to your body, you still had to press on for a living.

As thanks, Jiajia Gu gave Saul an ice wolf.

Combined with Coachman Marsh’s skillfully crafted open-top, single-passenger cart, Saul finally didn’t have to walk everywhere when coming and going from the tower.

After several months of observation, Saul confirmed that there was no more danger beneath the tower, and eventually decided to plant Little Algae on the second underground floor.

Little Algae was an earth-elemental magic creature—if kept away from soil for too long, it would stagnate and rely solely on mutation to grow stronger.

Too many variables in that route.

This time, Little Algae took root smoothly.

It was delighted. By the very next day, black tentacles were crawling all over the walls of the second underground level.

Like climbing ivy.

But to truly grow, Little Algae needed to feed on corpses and souls. Meanwhile, Saul’s body modification experiments also required flesh and blood. So the list of items Jajagu was tasked with acquiring expanded once more.

This particular day, Saul and Camus were standing over An, discussing her condition in detail.

An stood proudly, chest out, without a shred of embarrassment.

“It’s a bit better than the base body,” Saul said, arms folded, “but after adding the gray matter, it lost some toughness and flexibility.”

“There’s conflict between the two rune systems,” Camus said, standing rigidly inside the binding formation like a block of wood.

“Maybe they’re reacting to each other.” Saul fell into thought.

An wasn’t as obsessed with perfection as they were. Being able to leave the diary in soul form was far more comfortable than squeezing into someone else’s corpse.

And she was very nimble, too.

With a thought, her lower body shifted from long, slender legs into eight spider limbs. The sharp tips sliced a few long scratches into the floor.

“Put those away for now,” Saul said immediately, distressed over his tower. “We’ll let you test the blades outside sometime.”

This was a new emotion for him.

When you’re not the head of the household, you don’t realize how much everything costs.

Knock, knock, knock.

Someone was knocking.

Little Algae slithered over to open the door.

The steward appeared, stepped forward, and said, “Master of the Tower, someone’s appeared by the lake. They’re asking for help with pollution cleansing.”

“Hah, finally some business?” Saul chuckled and shook his head. “Jiajia Gu’s been advertising for months now… Good thing I don’t rely on this to eat.”

He walked halfway out the door, then turned back to store An away before leaving for real.

As Saul left, the steward also turned to leave. But as he raised his head, he noticed Camus watching him.

His motion to shut the door paused slightly.

“No matter what the truth is,” Hope said, “I still want to say—it’s good to see you again, Lady Camus.”

“And also—this is now Lord Saul’s Wizard Tower. Like the Master, I welcome you here.”

Camus didn’t respond. It was unclear whether she understood what he meant.

Saul arrived at the lake in his cart and saw a man and woman, both wizards, peering warily across the frozen lake surface.

The fog was thin, and both parties spotted each other quickly.

Saul pulled on the reins and stopped the cart atop the ice without getting down.

The Wizard Tower was still some distance from the lake’s edge. Now that the lake had frozen, the entirety of Lake Rhine—except for the island at its center—had become a magic-suppressed zone. Communication between those inside and outside was extremely difficult.

But when magic couldn’t serve, people had plenty of primitive methods to fall back on.

The Old Witch had suggested installing a sign at the lakeside and having visitors cast three Minor Fireballs into the sky to request treatment.

But that would’ve required someone to keep constant watch.

The steward’s idea was to place a bell there.

Saul, however, took a more resourceful approach: he stationed a clone of Little Algae at the lakeside.

If someone showed up, the clone could even conduct preliminary identity checks.

Then it could split off a smaller clone to deliver a simple message regarding the visitor’s purpose.

Magical creatures were still creatures—they could move on ice, they just couldn’t split again.

And if no visitors came, the clone could remain hidden underground. If an ambush occurred, it could issue a warning—or launch a counter-ambush itself.

Thus, it was the little clone’s message that had prompted the steward to inform Saul.

Since Little Algae had already conveyed the visitor’s intent, Saul addressed them directly from his seat.

“Good morning. Which one of you is seeking pollution cleansing?”

The male and female wizard exchanged glances, both slightly surprised at Saul’s youth.

“You’re Healer Saul?” the female wizard asked, her face pale.

“Calling me ‘healer’ right off the bat? That’s the tone of someone desperate for help.” Saul’s mind turned quickly. He smiled and nodded. “Let me make this clear—I have helped a few wizards struggling with pollution, but I can’t guarantee I can remove every kind of it.”

He leaned forward slightly, eyes on the pale woman. “May I take a look at your polluted area?”

But it was the muscular male wizard who scowled and said, “I’m the one asking for treatment.”

He then cast an annoyed glance at the woman, his lips moving as if using a transmission spell.

The female wizard’s face went even paler.

“Jiajia Gu said you saved his life,” the man added. “And since a Dreammaker vouched for you, we figured it was worth giving it a shot.”

Saul showed no change in expression. He simply turned to the muscular man and asked, “Then may I see the affected area on your body?”

“If you’re so skilled,” the man grumbled, “why can’t you tell where I’m polluted just by looking?”

Despite his skepticism, he still removed his coat cooperatively.

Both of the man’s arms were a reddish-brown color, but beyond that, there didn’t appear to be anything obviously wrong.

It was the bulging muscles that left the biggest visual impression.

Saul, thin and not tall, couldn’t help feeling a little envious.

“You sure this is pollution, and not just a curse wound?” Saul asked.

The muscular wizard exploded with anger.

“Are you even a real healer? You can’t tell the difference between pollution and an injury?” He turned to the woman and growled, “Let’s go. No point wasting time here. Jiajia Gu must’ve been bribed—or cursed!”

(End of Chapter)

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