The Trials of a Wizard’s Day and a Crayfish Cookbook

After a shared plate of crayfish, Rhine and Audrey became slightly more acquainted.

Indeed, only slightly.

Audrey, however, maintained her indifferent demeanor towards others, often disappearing within the sprawling ducal estate.

As for Rhine, while his attention had been momentarily diverted by the young lady, his primary objective remained the covert infiltration of the ducal territory.

This was a heaven-sent opportunity; how could he possibly let slip the chance to embed himself in the enemy’s core?

Yet, as is often the case, the world rarely grants one’s wishes, a truth he was now experiencing firsthand once more.

Morning—

“Follow my lead; there’s no room for error! I don’t care what you were before, but a servant must fulfill their duties! You are now the manservant to the Cavendish family’s eldest daughter, and proper etiquette represents the face of the ducal estate, understand?”

The strict and demanding middle-aged bald etiquette instructor fixed a death glare upon the sweat-drenched Rhine.

“Y-yes, I hear you…”

“No vigor! You sound as faint as a mouse; I can’t hear you at all!”

“I hear you!”

“Again! You want to be the young lady’s manservant with such a faint voice?!”

“I HEAR YOU—!!”

“Good, full of spirit! Maintain that momentum! Don’t move your knees, rotate your left hand like this… Don’t you dare tremble, or we’ll restart. Keep following me until it becomes muscle memory!”

‘Rhine Green’s hit list: add one.’

Afternoon—

“The young lady enjoys green tea, and as a servant of the ducal household, your tea ceremony skills naturally cannot lag behind others.”

Rhine sat opposite the elegant blonde woman, squirming as if on pins and needles.

“Don’t be nervous; today, I’ll only teach you the fundamental method of brewing tea.”

The woman then seamlessly demonstrated the entire process: warming the pot, placing the tea, warming the cups, pouring at high and low angles, dividing and serving the tea, inhaling its aroma, and finally, tasting it. Her movements were so fluid and efficient they left faint afterimages; the water molecules barely had time to react before being brewed into tea.

She smiled sweetly as she looked at the utterly stunned Rhine.

“Well, wasn’t that simple? Have you learned it?”

“I’ve… I’ve unlearned it all.”

Evening—

“…”

“…”

Ferren and Rhine stood opposite each other, wooden swords in hand, a silent understanding passing between them.

‘Hey, what is the ducal estate playing at? Is this deliberate or just happenstance?’

‘I’m a wizard, for crying out loud! What good is learning shoddy swordsmanship to me?!’

‘And it’s with the Divine Retribution Knight who literally cut me down just a week ago!’

“Hey, you’re a Divine Retribution Knight, aren’t you? Don’t you have other things to do? Couldn’t you just find someone else to train with me?”

The lingering glow of the setting sun painted their profiles.

“The Knight Order doesn’t have many daily affairs, and most minor matters don’t require my constant attention,” Ferren explained gently and patiently.

“I also want to understand your living situation at the ducal estate. I was the one who brought you back, so I can’t just abandon you.”

“What’s there to say? Thanks to you, it’s just as it is. What else could it be?”

‘My life has already hit rock bottom; every path from here is upwards.’

“That’s good.”

Before long, the two clanged their wooden swords together, sparring vigorously.

“The Rimehawk Knight Order’s swordsmanship has its own distinct principles, which I cannot impart to outsiders since you are not a member. Today, I will teach you some fundamental techniques of sword fighting—”

“Firstly, you must not swing your sword aimlessly. Whether it’s a slash, a thrust, or a parry, you must first assess the distance between you and your opponent, as well as their probable movements.”

Seizing a moment of Rhine’s inattention, Ferren’s straight thrust stopped mere inches from his throat.

Rhine’s pupils constricted slightly. He silently retreated two steps and reset his stance.

“Secondly, before engaging with your sword, pay close attention to your opponent’s eyes. Their intentions to attack or defend are largely hidden within subtle shifts in their gaze. By reading their eyes, you can gain the upper hand.”

“Look into my eyes, child. Do not flinch. You must learn to look into others’ eyes in the future, whether in battle or in life.”

Struggling, Rhine uncomfortably met Ferren’s approving gaze.

“Excellent, maintain that.”

“Thirdly, play to your strengths and compensate for your weaknesses. Setting aside the disparity in our swordsmanship, purely considering our physiques, you should focus more on the flexibility of your sword techniques and primarily target my lower body.”

“To give you a simple example: if we both simultaneously thrust our swords towards each other’s heads, my sword will always reach you two inches sooner. However, if you use your sword to disrupt my footing, I find it inconvenient to parry.”

Thwack! With an upward flick, Ferren sent Rhine’s sword flying.

“Lastly, your sword is your life. In battle, you must always grip your sword tightly. The tighter you hold your sword, the further you are from death.”

The Knight Commander earnestly admonished him, though Rhine truly couldn’t discern Ferren’s underlying intentions.

“That will be all for today. Go back and rest, child.”

Ferren gathered his wooden sword, turned his back, and walked away, his tall silhouette receding as night drew near.

That night, upon returning to his room, a completely limp Rhine collapsed face-first onto his bed.

‘What exactly was I supposed to be doing here?’

‘So tired. Just let it all burn.’

His eyelids grew heavy.

Ding! The handheld screen in his subconscious subspace automatically lit up.

[Authenticating identity… confirming… engraving soul imprint… imprint successful.]

[Intercepting cosmic coordinate information: Starfall Era 612, located in the Sea of Shattered Stars… error… recalibrating.]

[Recalibrating world matrix… corrected to Saint’s Calendar 147, Lambourg County, Cavendish Ducal Territory of the Norman Holy Empire. Celestial resonance values unaffected…]

[World pollution value: 8. Singularity deepening tendency. Host immersion value within safe range.]

[Project ‘World-Breaker’ officially initiated. Proposer: Weaver Anjemuel; Executor—]

[Rhine Green.]

Another unremarkable morning dawned.

After an entire week of torment, Rhine, finally free for the weekend, could at last engage in activities befitting an evil sorcerer.

The path of a sorcerer relies on constructing ‘mana circuits’ within the soul to acquire power.

The spells wizards use are not conjured from nothing; every sorcerer possesses their own soul circuit, typically a circular halo of mana formed within their spiritual consciousness, somewhat akin to the halos seen above angels.

Sorcerers can inscribe various spell formulas onto these circuits, thereby manipulating a natural particle called ‘mana essence.’

The ultimate manifestation is much like a programmer inputting code, which then runs itself, imprinting the spell formula onto the real world to activate its effects.

From lowest to highest, there are seven rings; each ring represents an independent mana circuit. Higher-level circuits naturally allow for the inscription of more potent magical formulas.

As for whether the Seventh Ring truly marks the pinnacle of this path, no one currently knows, and no wizard throughout history has ever managed to breach the chasm of the Seventh Ring.

Rhine Green, without an ounce of false modesty, could confidently state that he was a Seven-Ring Sorcerer; few could force him to walk straight if he chose to stride sideways.

If asked to comment on Babel Tower’s recent strategic defeat, he would undoubtedly declare:

“Listen up, Divine Retribution Knights are formidable enough to contend with Seven-Ring Sorcerers. The only reason I’d struggle is that I’ve been stuck in a tower for years, not swinging a sword every day. How can a researcher like me compare to battle-hardened knights?”

In short, a research-oriented powerhouse does not equal a combat-hardened brute. You want to make that Ferren fellow repair a tower until he drops dead? Running up and down three times a day wouldn’t even exhaust him!

“By the way, I haven’t seen the young lady lately. Is she still tinkering with those seedlings?”

He routinely inquired with the head maid about Audrey’s whereabouts.

The head maid’s face took on a thoughtful expression.

“Ah, the young lady has been writing a book recently, and she even showed us the trial version.”

“Writing a book?”

‘I don’t understand, but I am greatly shocked,’ Rhine thought.

“Indeed. The young lady often has some wildly imaginative ideas, and she’s written many articles before, though most never got published. As it happens, I have a copy right here; take a look—”

Saying this, she handed Rhine a small, copied notebook. On its cover, in delicate handwriting, was inscribed:

The Art of Cooking Crayfish (Theoretical Edition)

‘Oh, hell no! I’m haunted!’

Rhine’s body stiffened, his hand trembled, and a terrible premonition instantly arose. His mouth twitching, he flipped open the notebook.

“Preface: This book aims to combat the crayfish menace, create human predators, correct the public’s misconception that crayfish are ‘inedible,’ and protect farmlands while simultaneously allowing for culinary enjoyment…”

“I extend my solemn gratitude to Mr. Rhine for his indelible contributions to this book’s creation. To underscore the veracity of my claims and to show that the methods of cooking crayfish are by no means groundless, ahem—I shall first roughly recount Mr. Rhine’s genuine experience of discovering that crayfish are edible…”

“It was a year of great famine, when the seedlings in the rice paddies had all withered and died. He could only chew on rice stalks to stave off hunger, reportedly finding their taste not significantly different from weeds…”

“It was then that a crayfish on the dry creek bed caught his eye… He thought, if ducks have inedible parts, then surely crayfish must also have inedible bits…”

‘By the stars!’

‘That little brat is spouting nothing but inconvenient truths! Isn’t she just publicly exposing his dark past?!’

“Where’s Audrey?! I need to find her immediately!”

He cried out, and the head maid playfully tapped his little head.

“You should call her ‘Young Lady’.”

“R-right, my apologies…”

“Alright, the young lady has been holed up in the kitchen lately. You should be able to find her if you go at noon.”

“Can I borrow this notebook?”

“Of course. These were meant to be circulated among us anyway, and the young lady values them greatly. Just don’t get it dirty.”

Rhine nodded and quickly departed, his gaze steadily sharpening.

‘This book, no matter what, absolutely, positively cannot be published!’

‘Even if I have to bend that clueless young lady over my knee and spank her soundly—’

‘It absolutely, unequivocally cannot be published!’