Chapter Twenty-Two: The Nightmare Driver’s License

“Relax, I’m only here to test a few spells—I won’t harm you.” Louis waved his wand, and the wraith began to dance ballet, its movements as awkward as a marionette’s.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, anything at all! I’m the Magic Mirror—I can go anywhere, I’ve seen countless things, and I know every secret of this academy!”

The wizard gave no answer, intent as a conductor leading an orchestra, his wand moving with practiced grace. The wraith, caught up in the music, began to stand on its head.

Louis’s silence unsettled the wraith further.

Practice magic? Whoever believes that must be a fool!

This “mysterious stranger” certainly had motives he dared not reveal.

Mr. Stuart felt the death clock ticking above his head, counting down every moment. In a panic, he began to pour out every scrap of knowledge he possessed, as if counting beans.

When he had exhausted his own secrets, he moved on to divulge those of every wizard he knew. Hoping to curry favor with Louis, he transformed himself into their likenesses as he spoke of each one.

This seemed to pique Louis’s interest.

The wraith also noticed that whenever he changed into a male wizard, Louis would frown—ballet performed by men was, after all, quite unseemly—but when he transformed into a female witch, a faint smile would curve Louis’s lips as he watched, enjoying the spectacle.

Sensing this, the wraith began to target his transformations and tailor his revelations accordingly.

Louis listened with mounting curiosity.

Mr. Stuart was not only a three-hundred-year-old warden of the Shadow Domain’s Black Prison, but he had once served as the former Witch Queen’s mirror spirit—the Magic Mirror.

When the current Witch Queen ascended, Stuart tried to become her informant—though he failed, he certainly knew many earth-shattering secrets.

But first, a minor problem had to be resolved.

[You seem to have discovered this issue...]

[A. Invoke the Witch Queen’s curse to destroy Stuart. Completion reward: +1 Magic Power]

[B. “Help” Stuart lift the Witch Queen’s curse. Completion reward: Nightmare License*1, +50 Experience]

Suddenly, Louis’s eyes turned black. He reached out toward the mirror.

Immediately, dense runes appeared all over the wraith’s body, and amid its wailing, a formless power dragged it out of the mirror.

Under the runes’ force, Stuart revealed his true form.

He became a monstrous steed, ablaze with fierce fire, floating in midair. Its upper body stood upright, six arms sprouting—some from its belly, some from its back. Its head was alien in shape, adorned with two rune-carved horns—though one had snapped, leaving it a “unicorn.”

It had no eyes, no lips, only a maw filled with sharp teeth—a terrifying sight.

There are many kinds of calamity-level fiends; Stuart was undoubtedly a nightmare.

Louis cast another spell. The nightmare shrieked, its body breaking apart like a magic cube, each piece sliced thin as paper.

The slices hovered in the air, laid out as if sheets of parchment, each inscribed with dense, black runes.

Stuart watched, aghast, as his body spread like innumerable scrolls across the hall, his soul nearly fleeing in terror.

Have I been sliced up?

But I don’t seem to be dead?

It doesn’t even hurt much.

Louis sat on the floor, calmly pulling each “scroll” before his eyes, inspecting them one by one.

Inside Stuart’s body, three types of runes shone. The first was strange, written in a peculiar script—runes Stuart himself had etched inside him.

“Hmm, the Book of the Sacred Oak says some wizards inscribe runes on their bodies to grow stronger, like Illidan… Looks like Stuart suffered some damage, so he carved these runes to restore his power, but it’s rather a mess…”

Louis examined the other two types of runes; both were seals.

They were unusual.

The first contained immense magic power, occupying every corner of Stuart’s body. Slice him open, and you’d find runes densely packed in every inch—Louis had done just that.

The runes looked like an army of a million, but their formation was chaotic—a rabble of slaves and motley troops.

They besieged the second set of runes, trying to drive it out.

The second set occupied only a corner of Stuart’s body. Compared to the first, it was like an elite legion of ten thousand, led by Xiang Yu himself—charging and trampling through the chaos. Yet the first set was so numerous, the struggle remained deadlocked.

Both tried to expel the other, locked in an endless tangle.

The second set belonged to Louis. As for the first, Stuart recognized it instantly, cursing aloud.

“Damn ‘Delphinia’! That wretched witch! When did she sneak this curse on me?!”

“Hmm… judging from the complexity, it would take months to cast.”

[…]

Louis stroked his chin, pondering. The spellcaster possessed great magic power, perhaps even some knowledge of “modern magical theory.”

But her skill was unimpressive, and the curse seemed riddled with mistakes.

“It’s a kind of demon’s indulgence. Looks like the caster sacrificed a demon to strengthen it, pouring in plenty of magic, but the craftsmanship is that of a half-trained forbidden arts apprentice.”

The Forbidden Arts scholar frowned in confusion—were she his student, he’d strip her and spank her for such botched work.

Still, the spell was saturated with magic power. Breaking it would be easy, but wasting all that energy would be a shame.

Louis decided to recycle the magic, transforming it into his own seal.

He recalled “Anthony’s Disenchantment Manual,” a book he remembered reading in the Forbidden Sanctuary, as well as “Modern Magic Theory.” He closed his eyes to meditate for a moment.

Soon, he had a plan.

Opening his eyes, Louis focused on an area of the Witch Queen’s runes and tapped it. Several runes changed, causing the entire region’s structure to collapse. The runes ceased to link, drifting like tadpoles in Stuart’s body.

Stuart’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

Before he could react, something stranger occurred.

Louis, brow furrowed, traced patterns with his finger over the area, and the ruined runes obeyed his command, swimming through Stuart’s body.

Gradually, they reorganized by some hidden logic. Soon, they transformed completely.

Louis set aside that “slice,” picked up the next, glanced at it, tapped, then moved to the third, fourth.

Stuart, observing all this, felt an odd sensation—a bit like watching a teacher grade a student’s homework.

After five or six minutes, all the slices’ runes had changed.

Louis looked them over, nodding in satisfaction.

The Witch Queen’s painstaking work hadn’t been wasted at all. It had all become Louis’s “Demon’s Indulgence.”

From now on, not only Stuart, but even ten Witch Queens could come and, faced with these ingenious, power-packed runes, could only scratch their reddening ears and shyly ask the teacher how to write such an assignment.

When the last rune was modified, all the runes flickered and merged into Stuart’s soul-flame.

At that moment, Stuart felt something profound.

Twenty years—it had been twenty years since he’d had a master, and today, he found one anew.

A line appeared before Louis’s eyes.

[Nightmare License +1]

[Brave knight! You have acquired your first mount. Raise your dragon lance and defeat the evil dragon—though that lance in your hand is not quite fitting. Perhaps an ironwood lance would be better.]

Wizard Louis ignored the narrator.