The sounds of Thorn Beasts moving and shrieking continued to echo from overhead.
Even blocked by the massive boulder and having lost their target, they lingered for a long time, unwilling to leave.
Meieruita’s expression remained cold, a flash of disgust passing through his eyes.
Beyond that, a deep-seated irritation gnawed at him, like ants biting into his heart.
The open notebook recorded the results of this experiment.
【Attempted to reduce contact with the Creator and continuously pushed the “plot” forward, but it did not achieve the expected effect.】
【The Creator clearly showed signs of alienation, but my reaction was the complete opposite. The longer the separation lasted, the stronger my longing and desire to interact with the Creator and reconcile became, forming a stark inverse proportion.】
【This outcome points to two possibilities. First, the separation time was not long enough. Second, only by advancing the plot and achieving “growth” can one effectively escape the influence of the Creator’s Authority. Simple separation alone is useless.】
Meieruita closed his eyes, feeling deeply disturbed by the side effects of this failed experiment.
He had no heart to write any further.
Due to the reduced contact over the past month, An Luo’s attitude toward Meieruita had become distant and polite.
The unfamiliar silence in the air, An Luo’s courteous words—they all felt oppressively stifling.
An Luo made no attempt to control Meieruita. He showed no reluctance or inquiry when Meieruita left, simply allowing him to depart calmly. Then, when Meieruita reappeared before him, his attitude was markedly cooler.
Polite and distant.
If it went on any longer, would they become complete strangers?
This was something Meieruita had never anticipated.
He was the protagonist of this world, destined for great achievements, which meant he held immense value.
Yet, despite Meieruita’s great value, An Luo seemed utterly indifferent. He did not crave maintaining an intimate, friendly relationship with Meieruita; his attitude was casual at best.
The longer Meieruita interacted with him, the closer their relationship grew. But if Meieruita took the initiative to pull away and reduce contact, their bond would gradually cool with the passage of time.
Like a campfire: without regularly adding fuel, it would slowly die out.
An Luo always stood in place, never pursuing, never wanting to pursue.
Meieruita could not understand why.
As the end of the month approached, Meieruita returned to write the letter to the Lanrian Family on An Luo’s behalf. He finished his research and came to An Luo’s dormitory, unlocking the door with his key.
An Luo was still fast asleep. Meieruita finished the letter and pondered what conversation they might have once An Luo woke.
He rehearsed the questions An Luo might ask and outlined answers in his mind.
Then…
An Luo woke from his nap, his bleary eyes carrying a sense of unfamiliarity as he looked at Meieruita, as if gazing at a mere acquaintance.
Their conversation was exceptionally brief, ending after a few sparse words.
No questions, no retention—just politeness and formality.
The distance created a rift, and their dialogues grew ever scarcer.
From Meieruita’s original goal, this was not a bad thing. As long as they kept their distance, their relationship would continue to decline until it became a thread as thin as a spider’s silk, snapping at the slightest breeze.
Even if An Luo discovered his Authority of the Creator, he would no longer try to manipulate Meieruita, for by then they would be strangers.
With no intersection, how could there be manipulation?
The closer he got, the more intimate the relationship; the farther he drew away, the more it automatically downgraded, slowly turning into estrangement.
That very night, Meieruita racked his brain for ways to remedy the situation.
He could no longer focus on his original experiment.
An Luo’s unfamiliar gaze kept flashing in his mind, sending chills through his heart one after another.
The idea of putting his own neck in a noose and resubmitting to another’s authority—it turned out he had been presumptuous. An Luo did not even bother maintaining their relationship.
The Creator never lacked servants. Even the Man-Eating Flowers and Thorn Beasts recognized him with their witless minds and sought to win his favor.
If he desired it, countless beings would eagerly fulfill his wishes—whether Meieruita was among them or not was irrelevant.
An Luo had reclaimed his identity, removing his gloves and mask. Though his face remained hidden in his hood, Meieruita had already noticed the subtle changes among the surrounding Wizard Apprentices.
Alden accepted An Luo’s explanation about the Witch Tool without any doubt or questioning.
This subtle shift seemed insignificant, but Meieruita keenly detected the undercurrent.
He thought that if he allowed this to continue, one day that flame would fully extinguish, leaving only cold ashes.
By then, even if he remained the unshakable protagonist, An Luo would regard him as a stranger.
Their bond would shatter completely, leaving them as strangers on divergent paths.
This had once been the future Meieruita desired—he had even planned to kill his own father. But perhaps because the plot had not progressed much yet, when the future he envisioned began manifesting in another form, he felt not relief, but resistance and panic.
Thus, Meieruita changed the bedding, making the narrow bed—previously just a simple frame—far more comfortable. He stocked up on food, brought spare clothes, and even fabricated origins for a few leisure books.
Then, he acted decisively, bringing An Luo to his secret hideout with an irrefutable reason.
The hot water in the bathroom was perfectly tempered. After An Luo bathed, he draped himself in the spare clothes set aside nearby.
It was Meieruita’s Wizard Robe, clearly a backup he kept there. The size was ill-fitting for An Luo, and to make matters awkward, caught off guard as he was, An Luo had no other options. He loosely donned the oversized Wizard Robe, his undergarments left to dry after washing.
As for borrowing from Meieruita?
Intimate underclothes were too private; Meieruita would never agree, and An Luo could not bring himself to ask.
No matter. It was not a big issue.
They should dry in an afternoon.
“Did I nap?”
An Luo probed, in case Meieruita suddenly changed his mind.
“Mm.”
Meieruita was clearly immersed in his research again, not even turning his head.
Though An Luo guessed Meieruita was far from pleased inwardly, he did not want to sleep on the floor.
So, with a guilty conscience, he pretended ignorance, climbed into bed, burrowed under the covers, and usurped the protagonist’s nest.
Meieruita’s bed was narrow, but the thick bedding made it soft and comfortable.
An Luo recalled the bed in Meieruita’s Wizard Apprentice Dormitory: utterly spartan—a wooden frame with a single sheet and a quilt, offering no comfort, merely a place to crash.
Though An Luo had described Meieruita as indifferent to material things, clearly, in his safe space, he still cared about his quality of life.
An Luo had not detailed Meieruita’s daily habits much, so he was unfamiliar with such choices, but it was perfectly human and understandable.
An Luo felt fortunate. If Meieruita truly disregarded his own comfort, even in this secret base sleeping on that hard board, An Luo would be the one suffering now.
Sleepiness soon overtook An Luo. He snuggled deeper into the bedding, feeling no guilt over occupying the protagonist’s bed, and drifted off comfortably.
Upon waking, An Luo had no desire to leave such a cozy bed.
He shamelessly lingered, betting that Meieruita would not chase him off. Propped against the headboard, he flipped through the Knight Novel.
After some time, An Luo had grown accustomed to the lengthy, meandering descriptions. He skillfully skipped the florid passages that advanced nothing, focusing on the story’s progression.
Though the tropes in these Knight Novels were all similar, they sufficed for killing time.
At dinner, after some thought, An Luo decided to share key plot points and settings with Meieruita.
First, to repay him for saving his life today; second, to make Meieruita view him more favorably and not fuss over An Luo hogging his bed.
“I have something to tell you.” An Luo swallowed a mouthful of roasted meat.
Meieruita’s brows and eyes were calm. “I’m listening.”
“You’ve already studied Soul Witchcraft ahead of time, so the Mid-Level Apprentice and High-Level Apprentice plots probably aren’t important to you—you can handle them easily anyway.”
An Luo continued, “The key is the Wizard and the Wizard Tower.”
“First, a Wizard Tower is a portable structure with spatial properties. Control its core, and you can store it in a illusory rift, entering whenever needed. Wizards take them when traveling or wandering.”
“The core is at the topmost layer, held by the Wizard himself. To get it, you must kill the Wizard.”
“But you’re a Wizard Apprentice—Wizard Apprentices can’t fight Wizards.”
An Luo said, “Even as the protagonist, you can’t kill a Wizard head-on. You need another way.”
He spoke slowly: “This Wizard fused directly with a Four-Dimensional Creature’s organ, so he shares its weakness: fear of that creature’s natural predator.”
An Luo’s plot setup was straightforward.
While Meieruita, now a High-Level Apprentice, was out recruiting students, he encountered a Wizard’s corpse. He dissected it simply and collected valuable parts.
Coincidentally, this Wizard had also evolved by fusing a Four-Dimensional Creature’s organ—and the one he chose was the natural predator of the Wizard Tower’s owner’s fused creature.
Moreover, this Wizard had been dead for a decade, reduced to a mummy with no risk of revival.
—Coincidence or protagonist halo? I have my own verdict!
An Luo said, “You’re framed by a High-Level Apprentice and turned into the Wizard’s test subject. Desperate, you hurl the bizarre materials harvested from the Wizard’s corpse at him, suppressing him long enough for you to counter-kill.”
Meieruita asked in a low voice, “Where is that Wizard’s corpse?”
An Luo replied, “In a cave outside Solsen City—you found it while sheltering from rain. I don’t know the exact location…”
“Good. I understand.”
Meieruita gazed at An Luo sitting by the fire.
An Luo wore his clothes, the oversized Wizard Robe draped loosely over his shoulders. The fire’s heat flushed his cheeks red, and the roasted meat glossed his lips.
He looked beautiful, yet poignantly vulnerable, like someone down on their luck.
And this place was Meieruita’s secret lair.
He had dragged An Luo in, trapped him here.
Like a predator hauling in enticing prey.
Yet An Luo remained oblivious, believing Meieruita had simply saved his life.
Meieruita lowered his gaze, his gray-green eyes flickering dimly in the orange-red glow.
