"No, you must answer." Sellen's voice carried a strange duality, as if two people spoke in unison. Throne's mind trembled, thoughts scattering like shards from a cosmic explosion. Yet in the space between life and death, he found a strange calm. He countered with a question of his own.
"Are you and Lady Ranni enemies?" "Hmm, not quite. I just don't particularly care for her." Sellen shook her head.
She had been young during the conflict between the Royal Family and the Primeval Sorcerers, untouched by the bloodshed. Still, she added, "If she blocks my path, then..."
"Then I shall step in to coordinate!" Throne cut in swiftly. He'd already confirmed this doll was trouble. It was like a live feed, a window for some distant witch to spy on him from thousands of miles away.
In the sorcerer's tower, Ranni sat in her high-backed chair, frowning. She'd been ready to snap back, but Throne's words soothed her. She settled back, continuing her watch. Nearby, a sword-wielding wolf-man shot her a sideways glance as her aura surged. Close call.
Throne took a deep breath, keeping his tone steady. "Teacher, I've said it many times. Since we can't produce Star Seeds, your interests, mine, and Lady Ranni's are aligned."
"That may be true, but I still feel unhappy about it," Sellen muttered.
"Then tell me why you're unhappy, and I'll help you analyze it."
"Uh, I don't think I can explain it clearly." Clap.
Throne clapped his hands, his tone encouraging. "That settles it. Rational thinking is the first duty of a Primeval Sorcerer. Since our positions are aligned, why create extra trouble?" The textbook citation hit hard. Sellen, already hazy, grew more confused. Did this unease stem from the ancient feud between the Primeval Sorcerers and the Royal Family?
No. She'd seen Rennala at the Grand Library before and hadn't felt this way. She glanced at the doll in Throne's hand. She just didn't like its appearance. Why? She couldn't say.
"Perhaps I've been too tired lately. But apprentice, don't take that doll out again in the future. Otherwise, I'll have the urge to dismantle her."
"You dare..."
Throne quickly tucked the doll into his spirit-calling ring. Sellen looked around, her hand gripping her staff.
"Who was speaking just now?"
"No one," Throne said, feigning bewilderment.
"Nonsense. I clearly heard it. It was a resonance of mental power."
"Really, there wasn't. Didn't you say you were too tired? It's normal to have hallucinations in that state."
"Are you serious?"
Sellen eyed him suspiciously, but his expression was frank and solemn.
"I never lie, and I would never lie to you."
Of course, he wasn't lying. After all, Ranni wasn't a "person." Sellen trusted him completely. She nodded.
"Hmm, perhaps I really am tired."
Damn it. He'd finally fooled her. Throne let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Before Sellen could speak again, he cut her off.
"Teacher, weren't you going to give me a gift?"
He'd anticipated her next words, but the Sword Ghost wasn't one to soften. Once a decision was made, there was no turning back. Continuing the conversation would only make things worse.
"Oh, I almost forgot. Come with me."
Sellen walked with light steps, as if she had something good to show off. Throne had a bad feeling, but dragging things out would only lead to endless chatter. He gritted his teeth and followed.
The two stepped into the middle room. It had only been two days, but the place was already a disaster—paper balls, glassware, and leftover materials scattered everywhere.
Throne lifted the half-finished arm-like object from the table. Artificial bone gleamed beneath a layer of muscle tissue, eerily lifelike. "Making a puppet?"
"Yes. Summonwater Village has most of the materials I need. I'm experimenting with Seluvis's techniques." Sellen poured herself a glass of water, took a sip, and gestured toward the corner of the room.
"That's the gift. Go see for yourself." Throne turned. A white sheet draped something half the size of a person. His expression tightened. "What is it?" "You'll see." The unease grew heavier. Throne stepped forward, gritted his teeth, and yanked the sheet aside.
A humanoid form lay there—no, not quite human. The arms and head were missing, but something like skin covered the torso. It wasn't meant to be a puppet like Seluvis's.
"What is this?"
"Apprentice, I noticed you're often distracted by trivial matters. So, I spent two days crafting this life-type puppet just for you. Satisfied?"
Throne forced a smile, his neck stiff as he turned to the smug witch. "Teacher, you're too thoughtful."
"Really?"
"Of course. But I have to ask." He swallowed hard, his voice sharpening.
"Where did you get this genius idea?"
Throne felt a flicker of gratitude—Sellen had finally paid attention to his troubles. But it was fleeting. Her mind worked differently. She solved problems in ways no one else would even consider.
"Why do I feel like you're mocking me?"
Sellen raised an eyebrow, displeased. She'd worked tirelessly for two days, and here he was, ungrateful.
"Not at all. I appreciate your effort." Throne sighed. He should've known better than to expect anything normal from her. He glanced at the grotesque puppet and made up his mind. Deceive her, then tie a rock to it and dump it in the lake later. "That's good."
Sellen didn't leave. She dragged over a stool, sat down, and waved her hand.
"Begin."
"Begin what?" Throne stared at her, his face frozen in disbelief.
"Use it. This is my first service-type puppet. It's a research topic."
The witch perched upright, chin resting on her fingers, every inch the serious scholar.
"Use it? Here? Now?"
"Of course. How else will I make adjustments based on feedback? Oh, and I'm curious about the 'Sage State' mentioned in books. We'll run a reaction experiment later to see if concentration improves. True sages are rare, after all."
Sellen was dead serious. Throne's jaw twitched, his gaze darting between the unfinished puppet and her face.
"You're joking."
"Why would I? This is serious research. Don't mind me. A true sorcerer shouldn't be shackled by such petty shame."
"But I am."
"Then your cultivation is lacking."
"Hell if I want to cultivate this."
Throne snapped. Years of frustration bubbled over.
"Don't underestimate human instinct. It's emotional, irrational, and the opposite of a rigorous topic."
Sellen blinked, unfazed by his outburst.
Academic research, after all, always involves some debate.
"Then what is it related to?"
Throne wanted to say love or affection, but how could he explain something humanity had struggled with for millennia? Even if he became the greatest philosopher, Sellen wouldn't understand.
He thought for a moment and looked at the fully functional but bizarre-looking puppet: "At least it should make people feel beautiful, and this thing... makes everyone in The Lands Between, oh no, at least the vast majority of people, unable to feel any beauty." For some reason, Throne also became rigorous, not ruling out that there might be some strange XP in The Lands Between.
"Hmm, indeed there is no beauty. My technical level... no, it's a lack of materials. Hmm... what a headache. It was hard to come up with a research topic to pass the time." The witch muttered to herself. She was a person who couldn't stay idle. Unable to conduct magic research before settling down, she simply changed the topic.
Seeing that Sellen finally stopped mentioning this, Throne breathed a sigh of relief, drinking water to moisten his throat while asking: "Why didn't you research these when you were at the academy?" "I couldn't even finish researching magic; who cares about such insignificant things? Besides, it was you, my apprentice, who made me realize the existence of this topic." So that's it.
I'm truly honored. Throne nodded. The former Sellen indeed didn't understand, nor did she care to understand. Just as she said, emotions and flesh were all unnecessary existences in the pursuit of primeval sorcery; she wished she could turn into a star and explore infinite mysteries. But is it my fault? Throne swayed his water cup and stood tall.
For this eccentric teacher, he could only seek common ground while reserving differences. He wouldn't make Sellen emotional, and Sellen shouldn't expect him to become a mad scientist. "Apprentice." "Hmm?" "Do you think I am 'beautiful' compared to that work?" Sellen tilted her head slightly, her face full of seriousness. As an honest person, Throne never lies.
However, since it was a topic discussion, he stared at Sellen seriously, and his answer was quite rigorous. "According to my observation, from a normal human aesthetic perspective, you are at least 173.5 times more beautiful than that thing." Sigh, what a fool with no self-awareness. Throne shook his head helplessly. Isn't that obvious?
Sellen is a first-class beauty in the entire Raya Lucaria Academy; how could she compare to that heap of performance art-like puppets? He watched Sellen, who had fallen into deep thought, and drank water helplessly. What a waste. "Apprentice." "Hmm?" Throne didn't want to answer these strange topics anymore, feeling like it was insulting his intelligence. "Then come and experiment with me." Huh?
Throne turned his head sharply. He knew this woman lacked common sense and nothing she said was strange, but this was too shocking, so he confirmed it again. "What did you just say?" "I said, come and do an experiment with me." "Are you serious?" "A little serious." Sellen thought for a moment, looked at the strangely-faced Throne, and shook her head: "But forget it.
The book says that would affect mobility, and the current situation is not suitable." Throne raised his head. What the hell does "a little serious" mean? "You... are really quite naughty." His eyes became more suspicious, and he hesitated: "Did you take the wrong medicine today? Why are you suddenly saying things like this?" As soon as he finished speaking, he was tapped on the head.
"Who are you saying took the wrong medicine?" Under the moonlight, Sellen crossed her fingers in front of her chest. "I just felt that there was no feeling of disgust, so I said it casually." "You can't say things like that lightly; people will take it seriously." "So you took it seriously?" "How could I."
Throne grinned, thinking to himself that everyone knows your eccentric personality, but Sellen was indeed a bit strange today. The reason was unknown. Perhaps it was because they had spent too long together and the barriers were gone, so their speech had become casual. But if he continued to stay, he would probably be dragged into talking about magic research all night.
The Tibia Mariner wouldn't wait—tonight's hunt left no room for chatter with Sellen. A petty revenge flickered through him. He slapped the grotesque puppet beside him, leaning close as he passed her. "Teacher, let's be honest. This thing's a hack job. If that old creep Seluvis had crafted it, I might've spared a glance." His voice dropped to a razor's edge. "At least the pervert had taste. Burn this monstrosity before it stains your reputation."
He was already moving before the last word left his mouth—a burst of speed, the doorframe a blur.
"You insult my craft?" Sellen surged to her feet, but the latch clicked shut behind him.
In terms of running, she couldn't catch up to Throne. She stayed rooted, defiance cooling to resignation. Her gaze drifted to the puppet slumped in the corner. Now that he'd said it—the proportions were off, the joints crude. Evolution struck like lightning: she saw ugliness plain as day. The window's reflection showed her own face, tight with something sharper than anger.