Chapter 52: What Was Meieruita, as a “Traveler”, Thinking? Part 2

An Luo slept and woke up to find himself back to normal size.

Meieruita wasn’t in the dormitory. An Luo changed clothes, finished washing up, and just then, the dormitory door was pushed open.

The timing was perfect.

An Luo looked down at his neatly dressed self and thought he should have lingered in bed a bit longer.

“You’re back?” An Luo greeted.

Meieruita placed two glass vials containing potions on the desk. “Mm.”

One large and one small. One was the shrinking potion An Luo had drunk yesterday; the other was a thumb-sized glass vial filled with amber-colored potion.

First time was novel, second time familiar—no need for Meieruita to explain. An Luo knew the drill.

But before that, he decided to take a precaution. “Wait a sec.”

He grabbed yesterday’s gray wool sock and a clean pair of scissors, snipping away. He cut a round hole at the bottom for his head, then similar holes on the sides for his arms, shortened the sock, and just like that, a temporary outfit was quickly made.

An Luo inspected his handiwork.

Overall, it was a bit rough, but since it was just temporary, no big deal.

“I’ll be out soon.”

An Luo took the shrinking potion into the bathroom, leaving the door ajar to avoid getting stuck after shrinking.

Soon, An Luo emerged from the gap, wearing his makeshift wool sock clothes.

Meieruita’s gaze followed him.

The wool sock draped loosely over An Luo’s body, with a run near the calf.

But An Luo didn’t mind. “Can you give me the antidote now?”

“Wait.”

Meieruita leaned down and scooped An Luo up. He always used both hands—his broad palms and long fingers like protective walls, or perhaps confining bars.

An Luo was puzzled. “What’s up?”

Meieruita didn’t say much. He simply examined An Luo carefully before placing him back on the ground and handing him the antidote.

As he passed the antidote to An Luo, a thought flashed through his mind:

What if I accidentally dropped and shattered this vial of antidote?

The idea was tempting, but Meieruita overcame it. He handed the antidote over intact. A few minutes later, An Luo, back to his normal size and fully dressed, emerged from the bathroom.

“Everything’s normal,” he said.

Meieruita looked up at An Luo. “Aren’t you worried?”

An Luo blinked in confusion. “Worried about what? The antidote failing?”

He chuckled and answered his own question. “Don’t worry, I know it won’t. The Apprentice Exam is this afternoon. With your personality, you wouldn’t test it again this morning without absolute certainty.”

If there had been a problem with the potion, reformulating and adjusting the ratios would take considerable time. Even with Meieruita’s high talent and abilities, it would require at least a morning or an afternoon.

Meieruita fell silent for a moment. “No, I mean, aren’t you worried about what I might do to you once you’re shrunk?”

“When you’re normal-sized, you still have a chance to fight me to the death. But when you’re that small, no matter what I want to do, you can’t resist. Aren’t you worried…”

Meieruita’s voice grew low. “Aren’t you worried I’ll kill you?”

Especially since you’re so guarded against me.

“Not worried at all.”

Although An Luo was wary of Meieruita, after their last “conversation,” he had come to a clear understanding:

If Meieruita truly wanted to deal with him, there were countless methods. There was no need for such roundabout tactics.

As he had said before, the simplest way would be to lock An Luo up directly. It wouldn’t violate the contract and would eliminate all uncertainties. What could An Luo do about it?

“Why?” Meieruita asked. “What if I’m just lowering your guard to deliver a fatal blow when you see hope, all for my own amusement?”

An Luo didn’t hesitate. “That won’t happen.”

His voice was gentle and steady. “You would strike out at those who threaten you or pose a danger, but you’re not someone who slaughters the innocent indiscriminately. You’re certainly not a madman who takes pleasure in tormenting others.”

Though Meieruita was a protagonist with a rather dark personality, he still had his principles.

An Luo knew this very well.

After all, he was the one who wrote him.

An Luo might forget the personalities of many side characters, but the protagonist was always different.

Meieruita was the visual center of the entire book, the sole focus.

An Luo could never forget him.

“…Is that so?”

“Of course.”

An Luo’s attitude was utterly resolute.

Meieruita lowered his gaze.

“…The Apprentice Exam is starting soon. I need to prepare.”

In truth, An Luo wasn’t concerned at all about whether their “cheating” might bring potential dangers, like being reported.

It might look like “the top student helping the slacker cheat through the exam,” but that was only on the surface.

Considering the overall dark atmosphere of the Wizard Tower, no one would believe Meieruita was helping An Luo willingly. Even if the Wizards discovered it, they would only assume An Luo had “controlled” Meieruita.

No one would think they were cheating.

Witchcraft came in countless varieties, and control-type spells were far from rare. Some Wizard Apprentices even specialized in them.

The Apprentice Exam was about to begin. All the Wizard Apprentices gathered at the entrance to the Lower Layer hall, waiting.

The Old Treeman, who normally guarded the Library, slowly approached. The Wizard Apprentices parted to form a path for him wherever he went.

He stood on the stone platform and spoke in a hoarse, aged voice. “This Apprentice Exam is different from previous ones.”

“The first rule of the Wizard Tower is that Wizard Apprentices are forbidden from killing each other,” he continued. “Yet some people refuse to obey the rules set by the Wizard Lord.”

A wave of unrest rippled through the Wizard Apprentices in the hall, especially among the more guilty veteran apprentices, whose faces paled.

They tried desperately to mask their expressions, keeping calm so the Old Treeman on the platform wouldn’t notice.

Soon, as the Old Treeman read out a list of names, those called could no longer hide it—their faces turned ashen.

These people hadn’t forgotten what happened to Evans and the unfortunate veteran apprentices caught last time.

The ones captured previously had been the main culprits, while these more marginal ones had luckily escaped. They never imagined they could dodge the first wave but not the second.

Yet just as despair set in, the Old Treeman said, “For this Apprentice Exam, ordinary apprentices who successfully hunt a target from the list will pass. But those on the list, don’t despair. The merciful Wizard Lords have given you a chance.”

The Old Treeman chuckled darkly, his tone sinister. “As long as you survive the exam and successfully kill five opponents, the Wizard Lord will forgive your past transgressions. Not only that—you’ll pass the exam directly.”

His words reignited a glimmer of hope in the despairing Wizard Apprentices.

Subtly, the previously mingled crowd began to divide into two factions: the ordinary apprentices on one side, and those named on the list on the other.

“Very well.” The Old Treeman’s sinister laughter echoed through the hall. He extended his hand, and his originally human-like five fingers stretched and deformed rapidly, sprouting dense roots.

He pressed his fully transformed right hand against the wall. Fine roots probed swiftly into the cracks. At the same time, a massive magic array appeared on the hall’s floor, encompassing all the Wizard Apprentices.

As the Old Treeman announced, “The exam begins,” the apprentices’ visions blurred, and they vanished from the spot.

When An Luo opened his eyes again, a dim forest stretched before him.

Peering out through the transparent Waterdrop Pendant, the outside world was clear but slightly distorted.

The surroundings were silent, save for Meieruita’s footsteps. It seemed only Meieruita was there.

Suddenly, Meieruita swiftly sidestepped. An Ice Arrow laden with chill whistled past his ear, the biting cold flashing by in that instant.

But Meieruita seemed to have anticipated the ambush. After dodging the Ice Arrow, he immediately raised his hand and unleashed a Fireball Spell.

The fist-sized fireball hurtled precisely toward the attacker’s position at a tricky angle. Faced with such a seemingly harmless, weak spell, the attacker quickly raised a Magic Defense barrier.

Under normal circumstances, Magic Defense could fully block such a low-power beginner spell.

But just as the attacker relaxed, the fist-sized fireball collided with the Magic Defense. Instead of being nullified, it erupted with a “boom,” unleashing a violent explosion.

The blast’s power far exceeded the Magic Defense’s limits. The transparent barrier shattered instantly, and the ambushing Wizard Apprentice exploded along with it.

The entire sequence lasted only a dozen seconds or so. Before An Luo could even react, Meieruita had not only dodged the attack but counter-killed the ambusher.

Meieruita calmly approached the attacker’s corpse, which was mangled—half its torso gone.

With a “squish,” a dagger plunged into the corpse’s throat.

An Luo had often seen tragedies in TV shows, movies, novels, or games where protagonists failed to finish off foes, leaving him frustrated. Thus, his protagonist, Meieruita, had excellent habits when it came to ensuring kills.

Dead or not, stab first.

It was just a casual motion.

He covered the Waterdrop Pendant at his neck with one hand and held An Luo’s Apprentice Credential in the other, hovering it over the corpse for three seconds.

Soon, a faint pattern appeared on the Apprentice Credential, indicating that its owner had successfully killed a Wizard Apprentice from the list.

This pattern was proof of passing the exam.

The gruesome corpse didn’t stir Meieruita in the slightest. He stood, took a few steps back, and turned to continue forward.

The hand covering the Waterdrop Pendant lowered.

Throughout, he hadn’t let An Luo see any cruel or bloody scenes.

Rather than calling it thoughtfulness, it was more like he was unwilling to let An Luo face any tempering.

Flowers raised in a greenhouse became exceptionally fragile, unable to withstand the outside world’s winds and rains.

Just as birds kept too long in captivity couldn’t leave their golden cages. Prolonged comfort left the fragile fledglings unable to learn to fly or forage.

The moment they left, they would die.

Thus, they wouldn’t leave. They didn’t dare.

Even if their hearts yearned for freedom, they could only obediently stay put.