Chapter 63: Why Do You Want to Leave? Part 1

The Old Wizard died, but the changes to his corpse happened quickly and were somewhat horrifying.

He had transplanted organs from that Four-Dimensional Creature, and his body gradually transformed into that of the Four-Dimensional Creature under the organ’s influence.

Higher dimensions held absolute dominance over lower ones—even just eyes could immediately erode a wizard’s entire body.

Of course, there were benefits to this. The bodily changes triggered transformations in his soul, making it stronger and more solidified, allowing him to evolve from a Wizard Apprentice to a wizard.

However, the seemingly powerful Old Wizard was instantly suppressed and killed by Meieruita upon encountering an organ from the natural predator of the Four-Dimensional Creature whose organ he had transplanted.

Meieruita did not know the full scope of the Four-Dimensional World, nor what its creatures were like.

According to An Luo’s theory, a one-dimensional world consisted of a single straight line, a two-dimensional world had two mutually perpendicular lines in different directions, a three-dimensional world had three mutually perpendicular lines in different directions, and a four-dimensional world had four mutually perpendicular lines in different directions.

Taking a cube as an example, it possessed three mutually perpendicular lines in different directions—length, width, and height. Meieruita struggled to imagine a fourth line that was perpendicular to all of them yet pointed in a different direction.

Meieruita knew this limitation came from his senses. As a creature of the three-dimensional world, he could not perceive the four-dimensional world.

He looked down at the Old Wizard’s corpse. The eyes, originally densely packed like pus-filled blisters, gradually shrank, pulling the surrounding flesh along with them. Vortexes seemed to form across the Old Wizard’s body, continuously drawing in the skin and flesh—each eye a small vortex, larger eyes forming larger ones, smaller eyes smaller ones.

Nearby vortexes merged into even bigger ones, endlessly sucking in the surrounding flesh, as if an invisible hand inside the Old Wizard tugged relentlessly.

Suddenly, the surface of the corpse tore apart, revealing a bright red cavity within. As An Luo had said, it too was filled with eyeballs. A layer of blood membrane covered these cavity eyeballs, which gradually turned into vortexes, now sucking outward.

With the inner and outer vortexes pulling together, a phenomenon Meieruita could not comprehend occurred. The Old Wizard’s corpse shrank continuously, growing smaller and smaller. The missing parts vanished to who-knows-where. The process was accompanied by wet slurping sounds, the crunch of bones being crushed, and the soft tearing of flesh.

Finally, everything fell silent. Inside the pitch-black Wizard Robe, only a single eyeball remained.

But it was a malformed eyeball. Meieruita donned gloves, picked it up, and examined it in a glass bottle.

Overall, the eyeball resembled a sphere, but its surface was covered in countless tiny protrusions like tumors—each one an eye. The eyeball was still alive; countless tiny, slit pupils swiveled up, down, left, and right as he moved.

It was, all in all, a deeply sanity-draining sight.

Yet Meieruita felt no psychological ripple. He observed the entire transformation process with utmost calm.

This calm was not indifference but the composure of someone who had seen much—like a veteran exposed to far stranger, more incomprehensible scenes, rendering this minor change utterly mundane.

This was a sensation unique to “Traveler Meieruita.”

As for the eyeball…

An Luo had once used an analogy of a three-dimensional object descending into a two-dimensional plane.

A sphere in the three-dimensional world could be observed in its entirety, recognized as a ball. But if it entered a two-dimensional world, the inhabitants would only see its two-dimensional cross-section: a circle.

The size of the sphere’s cross-sections varied. If it moved, two-dimensional observers would witness a bizarre phenomenon: a circle suddenly enlarging, then shrinking, vanishing, and reappearing.

This eyeball was likely a cross-section of a four-dimensional object projected into the three-dimensional world.

Meieruita focused on it for a long time, but it showed no change. It had probably been restrained by the wizard through some method, holding it in a static state.

With the Old Wizard dead, the Wizard Tower became ownerless. Meieruita easily claimed control of it. As ownership transferred, the entire Wizard Tower rumbled and shook. Though he had never controlled a Wizard Tower before, his first attempt felt effortless.

Controlling a Wizard Tower relied most on the soul—the stronger the soul, the easier the control. Weaker souls could not handle advanced towers.

Meieruita had a hunch, and it was quickly verified. His soul was extraordinarily strong; controlling this inferior Wizard Tower required minimal mental effort.

He had already suspected he was truly “Traveler Meieruita.” Now, confirmed by his soul strength in controlling the tower, his eight- or nine-out-of-ten certainty became absolute.

Meieruita also understood why he learned and modified witchcraft so effortlessly, in such short time—not only because he had studied it before, but likely due to his soul’s potency.

How did a Wizard Apprentice become a wizard? First, by touching higher-dimensional knowledge; second, by possessing a sufficiently powerful soul.

Aside from insufficient knowledge reserves, in terms of soul strength alone, Meieruita was already a wizard.

The Wizard Tower’s shaking gradually ceased. Complex runes lit up on the gray-black stone walls. Meieruita infused his soul’s aura into them, and the runes vanished, merging back into the walls.

At the same time, the entire Wizard Tower fell completely under Meieruita’s control.

His soul aura, transmitted through the runes, permeated the whole structure. Now, if he wished, he could know everything within the tower.

The former Old Wizard had rarely monitored it. His soul was too weak for smooth control, draining much energy. Since the tower was his and the apprentices couldn’t cause trouble, he grew lazy about it.

Thus, Meieruita’s experiments went undiscovered.

Any slightly stronger wizard would have made it impossible for Meieruita to secretly research counters against the Old Wizard.

It seemed thrilling, but Meieruita knew it was all An Luo’s arrangement.

The Old Wizard could never have discovered him.

The Old Wizard’s top floor was dimly lit, illuminated by numerous witchcraft lamps emitting a dim yellow glow. Unkempt, books and scrolls piled haphazardly on shelves and floors. The thick carpet felt swampy and sticky in damp spots.

He entered the central room—the Wizard Tower’s core, a hexagonal bedroom. In the center stood a massive black bed. The room was small, clearly just a place for the Old Wizard to sleep. A witchcraft lamp hung from the ceiling, casting a faint, dim yellow light.

With a thought, Meieruita turned the bedroom’s six walls into solid gray stone barriers. The door vanished—no one inside could leave, no one outside could enter.

The gray stone felt rough to the touch. Meieruita leaned against the wall, a smile tugging at his lips.

Wasn’t this the perfect place to house his Sleeping Beauty?

On the pitch-black four-poster bed would lie his Creator, the white silk bedding reflecting soft light under the lamp. An Luo reclined amid soft pillows, his body sinking slightly under its weight, like a jewel in a velvet box.

The white silk nightshirt draped like a sheer veil over an ivory statue, thin and translucent. The covers rose and fell gently. Meieruita wondered: Would An Luo’s hair grow long? Would it spread across the bed like a long-haired princess’s, black satin unfurled?

No matter. Once the walls sealed, it became a tiny world of its own—with only An Luo, him, and this dim yellow light. Everything resembled a slightly faded painting framed in place.

Meieruita closed his eyes. Though he hadn’t drunk, he felt faintly intoxicated, a buoyant sensation lightening his steps. He surveyed the room. Soon, he would replace everything with fresh furnishings. Once he finished the painting’s background, its protagonist could take center stage.

He couldn’t help but smile.

Time stood still for the Sleeping Beauty. In this dim yellow painting, all passage of time halted. Meieruita recalled the flashing, eye-piercing red warning light of the ruby gem—it would soon dim forever in this muted glow.

Free of worries, Meieruita could leisurely plan the future. Whatever he did, An Luo remained oblivious, like a doll cherished in a glass case. Meieruita could do as he pleased; he was its sole owner, with no one to compete.

Once Meieruita recovered his memories and the power of his “Traveler” days, he would awaken An Luo. By then, his position would be secure. The Creator would be his ivory statue from dreams—like a fledgling bird, no matter how it flapped, it couldn’t escape the hunter’s grasp.

But of course, he wouldn’t tear away that veil. The anesthetic on the butcher’s blade kept the lamb unaware as it was carved. They would have endless time; in its vastness, all conflicts would fade into nothingness.

Meieruita’s fingertips trembled—an irrepressible excitement. The future he envisioned was a magnificent, brilliant blueprint, not a castle in the air, but within reach.

The cold stone walls vanished. Meieruita closed his eyes, his soul aura flowing through the tower’s runes. He wanted none of the Wizard Apprentices; soon, he would evict all those eyesores.

But that was for later. Right now, the only thing Meieruita wanted was to see his dear Creator, his dear mother.

Suddenly, everything froze. The smile on Meieruita’s lips solidified. He stood rigid for a full three seconds, his face draining to pallid white. Gone was his prior composure. His entire right hand shook as he activated the Wizard Tower’s teleportation function.