“Kismet! Don’t…” Saul released one tentacle that was wrapped around the diary and reached toward Kismet.

Just as his tentacle extended halfway, Kismet’s body suddenly lost all color, transforming from a living person into a pure white sculpture.

His expression was still comfortable and relaxed, with a slight curve at the corners of his mouth.

Every detail was perfectly rendered, lifelike.

The next second, the entire sculpture suddenly scattered. At first the dispersal was fast, but it drastically slowed at one meter distance, as if becoming slow motion—like the first snow of winter, drifting and swirling down, landing on Saul’s tentacles and eyes, bringing a touch of coolness before disappearing.

Where his torso had been, a silver quill pen now floated quietly.

This quill pen wasn’t bright—its down was somewhat disheveled, and the shaft showed several vertical crack marks.

When Saul’s tentacle that had been trying to stop Kismet reached over, the quill pen happened to fall into his tentacle.

It felt cool to the touch, with mysterious essence flowing around this broken quill pen.

The scars on it actually added some mysterious coloring to this silver quill pen.

The moment he grasped the quill pen, Saul sighed in his heart.

Kismet’s consciousness had completely disappeared. What remained here was only a powerful but lifeless magical tool.

Just as he had said—if it wasn’t complete freedom, he didn’t want it.

So he didn’t even want himself anymore.

As the sigh fell, hundreds of star eyes on Saul instantly glared at Douglas.

That guy Kismet wasn’t a good person, but he had called him master!

Saul wrapped the quill pen with his tentacle and brought it before the diary.

The dark red hardcover book opened automatically as if sensing something.

The white threads that had originally connected to Saul’s body reformed into a pure white page.

The golden threads on the book were still connected to the distant Douglas. Because Kismet had just released his grip, Douglas’s figure had already begun to blur, seemingly about to disappear in the blink of an eye.

Saul raised the pen and, in the instant before that blink, wrote Douglas’s name.

Massive lines extended from the flat surface of the diary page, as if trying to construct a new world with the purest lines.

For a moment, the world seemed to become a plane, with all elements becoming individual words on the page.

When these lines connected and transmitted to Douglas, he seemed to transform from a three-dimensional, multi-dimensional life into a simple name—just a symbol on paper.

Thread-like lines appeared around Douglas’s name. Seeing these lines, Saul raised the pen and drew across them.

In reality, Douglas, who was about to escape, was suddenly bounced out of the spatial fissure, as if encountering some barrier, or perhaps simply due to magic power failure.

Douglas was intercepted by the diary’s power.

This was what Kismet meant by “responsible for catching him.”

So he couldn’t escape anymore!

But Saul wanted to go further.

As if self-taught, he released his fate lines that had been restraining Douglas and rewrapped them around those threads belonging to the Dead Wizard’s Diary.

The connection didn’t stop. The diary’s threads continued extending forward.

Straight lines are endless.

They ultimately extended into the circular shadow, with an unstoppable momentum, crossing countless light-years of distance to directly touch Douglas’s main body.

At the same moment, Saul’s fate lines wrapped around the diary’s straight lines also connected to Douglas’s main body.

The main body hidden in some unknown space originally had countless connections with Douglas’s current body.

This relationship had once been Douglas’s proud masterpiece, but now became Saul’s assistance in completely eliminating him.

Under the combined effect of the diary and fate lines, the main body was uncontrollably pulled into the wizard world and merged with the Douglas before them.

In everyone’s eyes, it appeared as layer upon layer of shadow outlines, each attaching to Douglas’s body.

Floco, who had been observing from the side, suddenly understood. “The shadow isn’t Douglas’s main body! It’s thousands upon thousands of avatars! He actually projected these avatars’ shadows into an overlapping outline, making outsiders think it was just one individual? If Saul hadn’t grasped the connection patterns between the avatars, what we’d have pulled over this time would probably just be one of them. The other avatars would still be hiding in endless space, impossible to completely eliminate!”

The knowledge Floco blurted out was already in a realm that many wizards present didn’t understand. Even if they heard it, they couldn’t comprehend it and could only stare dumbfounded at everything before them, countless exclamation marks arising in their hearts.

“No wonder this guy could live so comfortably in the endless starry sky, making so many enemies without being killed. He’s distributed all the costs among thousands and thousands of avatars.”

Floco smiled bitterly in his heart. People really were incomparable.

He looked at Saul again—this guy was even more infuriating…

Now the bitterness was about to surge up from his stomach.

But Saul, who had accomplished all this, wasn’t as relaxed as outsiders thought.

Although he had used the diary and… the silver quill pen’s power to pull all of Douglas over, he discovered that those outlines on Douglas’s body were still restlessly trying to escape.

It was very difficult for Douglas to leave, but thin shadow layers could always find ways to escape.

At this rate, he might not be able to persist until pulling the entire Douglas into the abyss.

And even letting one piece of Douglas escape was an outcome Saul couldn’t accept!

“Soul-Fixing Needle!”

Just then, Gorsa, standing on the White Glass Palace ruins, shouted to Saul.

Saul barely thought before directly taking out from his personal space the Soul-Fixing Needle he had always wanted to use but never had the chance to.

The moment the Soul-Fixing Needle was in hand, he threw it directly toward Douglas.

The Soul-Fixing Needle contained the crystallized essence of ancient wizards’ efforts.

In such close proximity to the Abyssal Eye, other magical tools could barely be used, let alone leave their master for long-distance attacks.

But the Soul-Fixing Needle could!

The powerful mental power fluctuations and black tide pollution of fourth and fifth-rank wizards couldn’t affect the Soul-Fixing Needle at all.

It charged forward relentlessly toward its designated target, without the slightest hesitation. Googlᴇ search novelꜰire.net

The unremarkable black needle broke through the sea breeze and silently pierced into Douglas’s forehead.

Instantly, those shadow layers that had been restlessly trying to escape Douglas immediately became still, all adhering to Douglas’s body.

Soul-Fixing Needle.

It could both stabilize soul bodies and free them from pollution’s influence, as well as gather and fix scattered, fragmented soul bodies, preventing them from dispersing and leaving the body.

Gorsa’s timely reminder made Saul realize that this Soul-Fixing Needle could be used not only to save people but also in reverse to capture people!

With the Soul-Fixing Needle’s fixation, none of Douglas’s avatars could escape!

The moment the Soul-Fixing Needle entered his body, Douglas also clearly recognized this fact.

There was no escaping anymore—not even one avatar could leave this place.

Douglas turned and charged toward Saul, his eyes blood red.

“Either let me go—I can swear on my cognitive foundation not to return for revenge—or you die with me!”

(End of Chapter)

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