Chapter 110: The First Night (Past Three Watches—Seeking Moon Tickets!)

The first day of intrigue in the Hall of Spirits? Kuku ended it all with an exam.

You say you're skilled in alchemy? Fine, first finish this set of five hundred true questions.

From easy to hard, covering all subfields—definitely enough to test your level and expose your gaps.

Don't want to do questions? Then let's chat. You talk alone while all three of us listen—any subject you like, let's see your knowledge base and quick thinking.

When that dark elf alchemist swiftly completed the exam, demonstrating astonishing alchemical skill, Kuku responded by revealing an even more absurd ability.

"This question has an issue—your explanation is the classic Akashic refutation; you ignored exceptions in atypical environments." He swiftly revised the question.

"I've roughly grasped your knowledge base. You specialize in modern alchemy and potions, right? Honestly, your studies are mediocre—I have some suggestions." He summarized the student's strengths and weaknesses, offering future advice.

"This is good—I'll teach you a few enchanting tricks. I have a reading list here." He even identified the student's latent talent and specialty, providing further guidance.

For top students, naturally, the teaching must be intensified.

He immediately split into five, transforming from one-on-one tutoring into a five-on-one ultra-customized Gold VIP service.

Within the dream, unbounded, he revealed his true upper limit—who knows how many thought-lines he possessed, but at least thirty or forty Kukus appeared at once, demonstrating the confidence of historical spirits and ancient sages.

"This is insane… How is this possible?"

"Aren't you afraid of schizophrenia? What about your self-identity?"

"Do you really think his self-identity is fine? He's a red dragon, yet he thinks he's a goblin."

In the end, this unlucky candidate, for voicing "a truth everyone acknowledged but dared not speak," was properly "reprimanded" by three Kukus.

But as night deepened, these still evasive heir candidates naturally saw Kuku's absurdity.

As a researcher, so many "peer researchers" wildly accelerated research speed.

As a spellcaster—who knows how many spells he could cast simultaneously.

Kuku didn't hide anything—he openly linked this anomaly to the evolution path of soul-power.

He even demonstrated on the spot how to activate and proceed along this path.

Including using memory fragments to show how to perform craniotomy and brain extraction, how to cultivate and transplant matured tissue.

He even showed partial cases of transplant recipients: schizophrenia, mental fragmentation, loss of rationality, loss of emotion, brain explosion, and more.

"With my soul-power, I should be able to complete the surgery safely! But—"

The implication was obvious: schizophrenia was inevitable, because it wasn't a side effect—it was the core function.

You want multiple thought-lines but no schizophrenia—isn't that a contradiction?

If you truly split off another personality, you won't be you anymore—would you be willing to pay that price?

"I desire it," the automaton spoke for the first time.

Its raspy synthetic voice was hard to understand, yet seemed sincerely earnest.

At this moment, it was Kuku's turn to fall silent.

How does an automaton undergo brain transplant surgery?

"I'm willing too," the dark elf female alchemist hesitated, but her fellow elf unhesitatingly voiced his longing.

Her situation was dire indeed.

"I—I can do it?" A psychic resonance echoed around—the mushroom person also voiced his desire.

But does the mushroom person even have a brain? Kuku said he could research it.

To him, these other races could also inherit—he could solve hardware issues too; the most important thing was the will and ability to inherit.

Stirred by these underground dwellers, some surface orcs gritted their teeth and shouted, "I have the will too!"

But Kuku shook his head—he saw their "will" was still insufficient.

"Don't rush yet." This inheritance was singular—it would be decided only at the end.

In truth, Kuku didn't care about this power; to him, his own "knowledge" and "research findings" were his true legacy.

He had compiled numerous notes and materials; while evaluating these students, he recorded everything, and would later give selected knowledge and notes to suitable individuals.

He wasn't in a hurry—better if it could be passed on, but if not, it didn't matter.

Many others have been buried in the ruins of history—he was no exception; the world would move forward regardless of who was lost.

The candidates were driven mad by Kuku's clones, but the knights remained idle—they had abandoned this inheritance from the start, except for Princess Daneya, who still struggled to learn and never considered giving up.

The princess was probably the busiest—she communicated and studied with Kuku while whispering quietly to Salliman.

As night deepened, her expressions changed most frequently and complexly—clearly, the situation in both realms was dire.

Salliman occasionally glanced upward, whispering with Daneya—likely discussing Li En and Kuku.

Kuku had never hidden anything.

No one could have imagined that this little toy, trailing the young Li En everywhere like a puppet, was the true ancient sage!

And the fact that he followed Li En—combined with Li En's earlier revelation of the awakened Dragon Tongue spell method—confirmed that Li En was indeed unusual.

"That potion was definitely provided by Sage Kuku—he's a dragon too."

This also suggested that Li En's relationship with the Spirits was extraordinary—he didn't even conceal his "privilege."

"He might now be the Executor and Spokesperson of the Hall of Spirits. I won't lose! Our competition has just begun." Good—Princess Daneya remained spirited, still unwilling to surrender.

But she had learned the intelligence Li En wanted her to know—thus, Li En's life as the "Spokesperson" would gain slight protection.

What was meant to be a trial night was utterly disrupted by Kuku's complete disregard for rules.

These Spirit Inheritors didn't seem like mortal rivals—they resembled classmates enduring the "hardest exam in history."

The exam proctor, Kuku, was simply too absurd.

Compared to this new era, the weight of the ancient sage was overwhelming; the accumulated knowledge was nearly infinite.

If you were a spellcaster, he tested magic; if an alchemist, he tested potions and alchemy—even druids, curses, dark arts, mind secrets, and witchcraft—he could converse with you and offer guidance.

Due to the vast gap in skill, these candidates strained all night yet still couldn't tell whether Kuku was satisfied or rejecting them.

And with such severe side effects from the Spirit power, how many would dare risk it once they calmed down?

First, Kuku explicitly stated the surgery had a high failure rate.

More importantly, this power clearly suited research best—aside from those few alchemists, who else would pay the price of schizophrenia and multiple personalities?

Even the young alchemists hadn't yet sensed the limits of their talent or lifespan; under the mindset of "we can take it slow," would they risk their lives so soon?

Even if you could cast multiple spells—how much mana do you have? How many hands? To what extent could you develop this ability?

Perhaps, as this ancient sage said, the ability itself isn't that significant—it's the "centuries-worth of sage-level knowledge" it generates that matters.

Of course, Kuku's insane demeanor was also a major deterrent—they still didn't believe Kuku was a goblin.

After all, the stereotype of goblins as stupid and low-intelligence was too deeply ingrained.

They'd rather imagine a red dragon sage had split off a goblin personality, which eventually became the dominant one.

Kuku didn't realize—he was pleased the students never mistook him, always calling him Kuku.

But Li En, who controlled the dream, heard their whispers clearly.

Of course, Li En also didn't miss Salliman and Daneya's private chat—in a sense, that was the real focus of the night.

In this process, Li En was satisfied that Salliman hadn't forgotten to pass along the intelligence: "There are traitors from the Beast Cult within the Shield Church."

Daneya's explosive, shocked reaction was truly amusing—well worth the effort of leaking the info to Salliman.

The first night ended amid this frantic competition and remedial lessons.

"Hmm, this is the first night I've actually rested." In previous nights, Kuku's dream had been entirely devoted to Li En—this time, he actually relaxed for an entire night.

But he soon realized he'd rejoiced too early.

"Bang!" The door slammed violently open.

A "great serpent" barged in uninvited, pouncing on him—her unmade, pure face pressed against him, every serpent eye on her hair ends fixed on him.

Overly anxious, Salliman instinctively wrapped her serpents around him in greeting.

"You—you explain this clearly! Is the ancient sage real? Where is he? Did you lie to me about something else?" She seemed unusually agitated.

"No, I didn't lie—you just never asked." Li En remained as candid as ever.

"As for Sage Kuku—he's… oh, playing cards with your auntie. Lost again—he's jumping on the table refusing to pay."

(End of Chapter)