An Luo only remembered this name when the dog-eyed apprentice introduced himself.
A multi-million-word epic novel had countless cannon fodder characters like John. Coming up with names was exhausting.
He had put the most thought into the protagonist’s name. Back then, An Luo had held an open selection, shortlisting thirty candidates, then eliminating them layer by layer until only two remained. After looking them over, he found both appealing, so he fused them together.
Thus, the protagonist’s name was born: Meieruita.
“Mei” evoked the plum blossom—fragrant from bitter cold, proud-boned, one of the Four Gentlemen of flowers. It carried cultural depth, perfectly matching the protagonist’s origins and future growth.
“E” stood for calamity, disaster—signifying the protagonist’s power as irresistible as a heavenly catastrophe. Anyone who dared oppose him had better prepare for misfortune and calamity.
“Rui” meant auspiciousness, propitious aura—indicating the protagonist could turn disaster into fortune, emerging unscathed from peril with formidable luck. It also balanced the preceding “E” to avoid the protagonist accidentally cursing himself.
“Ta” referenced piling sand into a tower, the Tower to Heaven, the Wizard Tower—highlighting the protagonist’s essence and subtly tying into the theme.
Put together, the four characters sounded elegant, at least in An Luo’s opinion.
Each one was meticulously chosen by the author.
The rest were more casual.
He only put a bit of effort into important supporting roles.
For cannon fodder like John, who appeared in less than two chapters before getting boxed, An Luo’s method was to open a name generator, hit random, and pick one that sounded right.
Yes, just that casual.
So, there were no memorable points.
Before arriving, Supreme Wizard had already reached its finale, just three or four chapters from completion.
It was impressive that An Luo even remembered this good-guy cannon fodder from the opening. As for the name…
There were countless such cannon fodders like John, and An Luo would soon arrange for him to get boxed anyway.
Even as the author, expecting him to remember every name was too much.
Besides, An Luo didn’t have any special feelings for them.
Everything in this world existed for the protagonist. All people, events, objects—even occurrences—served to propel the protagonist forward, brick by brick.
Meieruita was the absolute center of this world, the sole protagonist.
All other existences—even ancient supreme wizards from the lore—were mere foils for Meieruita.
Of course, An Luo liked some supporting characters and tried to give them good endings.
But those were the more important ones with significant appearances.
Cannon fodders like John and Lanrian didn’t count.
If not for inheriting Lanrian’s memories upon transmigrating, An Luo wouldn’t have recalled Lanrian’s name either.
Now, though, the flop novel had become a real world. Every character was a living person with their own will, thoughts, and emotions. An Luo felt something special.
It was weird, indescribable.
Especially since John was the only truly kind person in the book.
An Luo had created this character in five minutes.
Hmm, need a good guy who dies miserably. Lets the protagonist realize there’s no path for good people, adapting him to the world’s cruelty. Also shatters the last flicker of kindness in his heart.
What to name him…
Opened the name generator, clicked random.
John?
Not bad. That one.
Added some background.
Done. Character created.
Fine for writing a novel, but now it was a real world.
Who could’ve foreseen this?!
An Luo sat back by the barbecue, eating roasted meat while reflecting deeply. He resolved that if he ever wrote again, he’d stick to “good people get good rewards.” The protagonist should be upright and noble too.
No more dark, grim stuff!
A few days later, John came again.
This time, he brought a bag of smoked fish.
It was from his family.
His bedridden sister had recovered thanks to that Healing Potion. The family saved on medical costs, gained an extra able-bodied worker, and had some spare cash. Remembering John alone in the Wizard Tower, they scrimped to send him smoked fish.
“If not for your help last time, I’d be dead. It’s all yours.” John had no experience with nobles, so he respectfully called out, “Young Master Lanrian.”
Then he hurriedly added, “This is a gift. I’ll repay every gold coin.”
An Luo thought about how he’d stay in the Wizard Tower a while longer. Even if Meieruita didn’t act, it was dangerous here. After next month, he’d need tasks.
Even the lowest-danger ones had a twenty percent death rate.
Meieruita had taken five years to kill the wizard and claim the Wizard Tower.
An Luo needed to survive at least five years. Even sticking to lowest-danger tasks, there was still a risk of dying.
With that in mind, An Luo hoarsely called, “Wait,” as he hastily donned his Wizard Robe, mask, and gloves, then opened the door.
“Is there something else?”
John stood at the door, looking at An Luo curiously.
An Luo said, “Come in. I have some questions.”
With anyone else, An Luo wouldn’t dare—this was inviting the wolf in, pure suicide.
But John was different.
A pure good guy—no worries about schemes.
An Luo planned to ask how to meditate and sense Magic Power. If possible, he’d pay John to team up next month.
As an Earthling, he was a total newbie and really needed a veteran to guide him.
He even had the excuse ready.
Say the Fireball Spell injury came from a witchcraft tool, not his own power.
That would make getting hurt by a basic spell seem reasonable.
“Eh? Magic Power?”
John had decent talent—not protagonist-level like Meieruita, but mid-to-upper.
At An Luo’s request, he demonstrated, sharing his experiences in detail. An Luo pondered.
It still seemed mystical, but at least he had a reference.
After seeing John off and politely refusing the smoked fish, An Luo sat cross-legged.
He closed his eyes and meditated earnestly.
Fifteen minutes later, his feet went numb.
Meieruita had mastered the Fireball Spell.
Including the thirteen days this month, it had taken him two months and thirteen days to truly master a witchcraft.
With his talent, pure learning would’ve been faster.
But he’d improved the basic Fireball Spell based on his insights, compressing fire elements before release.
Thus, the simple Fireball Spell underwent a earth-shaking change in Meieruita’s hands.
It still looked like a fireball on release, but upon hitting a target, the compressed fire elements exploded violently.
Its attack power increased twentyfold.
The extra time was worth it.
He went to the Task Reception Area and took a medium-danger task.
This was a choice for a minority of Wizard Apprentices.
Ultra-high danger was suicide; low-danger rewards were pitifully low.
Medium-danger offered the best risk-reward.
Why minority? Many Wizard Apprentices only dared low-danger ones.
To survive and pay apprentice rent, they needed at least ten low tasks monthly.
Rushing nonstop all month barely kept them alive.
No time or Contribution Points for new witchcraft—endless death loop.
Aogufusi returned Meieruita’s Apprentice Credential, saying flatly, “Collect fifty pounds of Thorn Beast flesh. Solo task. Complete by month-end.”
Meieruita took back the credential, now marked as accepted but incomplete.
Once accepted, it had to be done—no changes.
Complete or die.
Wizard Tower rules were brutal.
Just then, Meieruita spotted John heading to the Library.
He turned and followed.
John had saved enough Contribution Points for a witchcraft book.
Meieruita watched him take the most basic Fireball Spell—the entry for all Wizard Apprentices.
Starting now?
He tugged his lip and left without hesitation.
From outside, the Wizard Tower looked ordinary, but inside it was vast.
Far larger than appearances, with artificial ecosystems mimicking the wild.
For fifty pounds of Thorn Beast flesh, at least three beasts.
Thorn Beasts lived on the underground first floor. Weak individually, but they hunted in packs.
To avoid swarms, Wizard Apprentices targeted loners or outskirts, sneaking carefully.
Among medium tasks, this was the toughest—hanging since month’s start, untouched.
But for Meieruita with Improved Fireball Technique, it was manageable. He took it without hesitation.
Though risky—hopeless old apprentices might target him—he’d disguise and be fine short-term.
It took five days to complete.
Before leaving the floor, he looked at the Thorn Beast corpses, pondered, then rolled in the bloody, mangled remains.
Standing, he looked bedraggled.
He adjusted his gait to seem like he’d barely survived.
No trace of prior ease.
After turning in fifty pounds, the extra twenty-plus pounds and materials were his.
A task reward.
“Sell?” When someone finished with extras, apprentices swarmed to buy.
“Two hundred gold!”
Rich noble apprentices dodged tasks this way.
Collection tasks only cared about delivery—source irrelevant.
“Not selling,” Meieruita said. “Saving for next collection.”
He coughed lowly, hand to mouth, as if spitting blood.
Everyone was used to it—no surprise at junior apprentices’ wretched state post-task.
The crowd showed disappointment but no shock.
Most with extras kept them as insurance or experiments.
If selling, only for Contribution Points.
Far more useful than gold.
Meieruita’s actions were normal.
He carried the bloody materials toward the dormitory.
An Luo’s door opened.
Meieruita glanced at the Thorn Beast flesh in the bucket, thoughts scattering.
John emerged, saying at the door, “It’s settled then. Early next month, I’ll pick a good low-danger task and find you.”
“Trouble you,” came An Luo’s voice, hoarse from disguise.
Meieruita stood expressionless, dried blood stuck to his cheek.
John turned back, startled to see Meieruita in the shadows.
“You okay?” he asked, eyes wide.
Meieruita gave him a cold look and strode away.
Bang!
The slightly open door slammed shut with force, betraying the occupant’s urgency.
Meieruita halted in his tracks.
He tore his gaze away from the tightly shut wooden door and fixed it on John, who stood not far off.
The foolish weakling was still clutching a bag of smoked fish in his hand.
John trembled all over at that single glance and fled like the wind.
