Chapter 59: Grammar and Period

"I will come visit you in the Abyss." Luge said.

"Boring."

The succubus scholar traced circles on the table with her finger; it seemed the good mood from successfully extorting the potion had been tainted by Luge.

Luge, meanwhile, was mentally calculating how much more time he would need based on his current mastery progress of the Fireball Technique.

As for that Apprentice's Spell Derivation Notes for the Fireball Technique, while they provided him assistance, he also discovered an interesting phenomenon: he had clearly only referenced the notes to cross-verify and speed up his mastery, his true learning still coming from that Basic Version book, but those little things that construct spells and generate Spell Models seemed like living creatures — once he knew and observed them, they clung to him, and his Basic Version Fireball Technique was unknowingly subjected to some subtle influences; fortunately, they were benign influences.

"You can go adapt to life in the Abyss, enjoy the vaster Abyss World; perhaps you might even see more succubi," Luge said, "Of course, they might not possess learning like you do."

"Boring."

The succubus scholar seemed to have far less yearning for this never-before-seen homeland than she had previously claimed.

Seeing Luge sitting there dazed as if in a trance, no longer paying her any attention.

She actually got up and walked to a distance, speaking in Abyssal, beginning to teach a class all on her own for the sole student who wouldn't listen; this was the first time in the hundreds of years since she came to the Ancient Castle that she truly taught a class. Being able to listen and write did not equal understanding Abyssal; she began to expound leisurely on its grammar and various taboos, as well as the culture unique to the nobles of that Plane World — some things with no practical use, but matters needing attention in communication to avoid the discourtesy that could slip between words and phrases.

He listened with half an ear, cooperating well enough to straighten his body and turn toward the teaching succubus.

Luge had just figured out a Node when he listened to a segment, and couldn't help but sigh: the disappearance of a world is not just the living beings running and jumping on it; what dies are those cultures too, or some other strange and bizarre things.

After listening to a segment of strange and bizarre knowledge to relieve boredom, he once again immersed himself in the study of the Spell.

When he opened his eyes again, the succubus was still there lecturing, as if she had gotten addicted to it; she had already reached the topic of how the successive Sages of the Plane World explored the origin of the Abyssal Language, and the speculation that the Abyssal Language originated from the First Strange Sound when the Abyssal Formation initially twisted and collided.

The Class Time ended, but until Old Butler Izel knocked on the Room Door and Luge left with him, the succubus scholar did not stop.

When the Classroom door slowly closed behind him leaving only a crack, Luge could still hear the occasional sound of her footsteps shifting inside, her voice lecturing eloquently.

He returned all the way to his Room, Meditated to recover for a spell, then continued learning the Spell.

That Tooth had already been wrapped in a strip of Cloth around his Wrist, pressed tight against his skin, lest that Young Master suddenly appear and delay the communication.

When he left the Classroom Room, he had already agreed with the succubus on the time to act based on his calculation; although she kept lecturing without stopping for a moment, he knew she had definitely heard the words he left behind.

What he had to do now was ensure he mastered the Fireball Technique before the agreed time. He thought of that truant Young Master and decided to try asking Old Butler tomorrow as well, striving for more time; with someone by his side, he ultimately could not focus.

Dinner was still enjoyed in the Room Interior.

"Yo, so this is a Wizard's cultivation method?"

A handsome youth's words popped out from between his teeth and fell to the side.

"Such a manner of speech is not what a Noble should have; perhaps you really should go take a Abyssal Language class."

Luge recalled some of the Plane World's nobles' fastidious rules the succubus scholar had lectured about.

"I naturally understand those rules; I have spoken very properly with those around me since childhood — perfect reverence, perfect Noble; right now I merely wish to show you, this guest from a foreign land, a more relaxed side." The handsome youth said with a smile.

"Do you think I can smoothly reach the Library?"

Luge sat on the ground, pondering the Spell while sparing a bit of mind to chat with him.

"I've already given that Abyssal Language teacher a little help, some small guidance; of course she still hasn't seen me," the youth seemed quite pleased with himself, "so she will assist you, give you a little help."

The handsome youth spoke of what he thought interesting, even imagining the scene of his own Corpse being burned in front of the Ancient Castle's Inner Gate.

"In my homeland, there is a rule: do not pry into the names of guests from foreign lands; so I have never asked you — please do not mistake that for my arrogance and discourtesy." The youth said.

Luge actually only sought to break Old Butler's suppression of his Spatial Door, and did not truly pin his hopes of escaping and ascending on this Young Master or the succubus's plan. He didn't need to use the Main Gate; after all, the Ancient Castle was similarly sealed before, yet he still managed to enter successfully, so he just needed to deal with Old Butler.

"Can you teach me a few truancy techniques?" Luge said.

"Simple!"

The youth was profoundly versed in this way.

"If it's just a momentary once or twice, you only need to exploit Old Izer's concern for you; it will go smoothly every time, and he won't even go report to my father."

The youth spoke, and Luge nodded.

Looking at the Gray Dust in the Room Interior, watching the handsome youth pace back and forth yet leave no traces, the things the two discussed seemed to be pushing everything here toward another destruction, yet both were in high spirits, chatting and laughing.

Luge closed his eyes and continued the Spell's derivation; he didn't know when the handsome youth left.

Another night of forgetting sleep and food.

When the Room Door was knocked on again, the prepared excuses had no chance to be used.

"Young Master, your Abyssal Language teacher is feeling a bit unwell today; I'm afraid the class will have to temporarily stop for a day." Old Butler stopped the Meal Cart at hand and delivered a piece of news that would pain a good student.

"I understand."

Luge nodded; the Fireball Technique was just a hair away from complete mastery.

Watching Old Butler's departing back, he did not rush to close the Room Door.

He looked at the Four Sides, feeling this real yet wondrous experience, deciding to give it his all to put a period on it; if that Young Master's confident Corpse-burning plan failed, he would try using the Demon Dice.

The Half-Man is over there; he probably thinks Luge is already dead, maybe wanting to beat his chest and stamp his feet, but his hands and feet are awkwardly unable to move, only able to regret in his heart that he didn't give him a few more impressive treasures.

But thinking back now, from the earliest Magic Skin Technique disguise, the Spell Material preparation and Abyssal Common Knowledge, to the quite effective Healing Potion, and the Hiding Space that allowed free advance and retreat — the Half-Man had envisioned things comprehensively enough to let him safely Run an Errand and get things done; encountering generally difficult Demons, he could basically find a way to cope. He just never, ever expected it would be this kind of situation.

Before Dinner time arrived, the Fireball Technique was finally successfully mastered.

He leaned against the wall and rested a bit; upon waking he waited left and right, but the sound of Old Butler knocking never rang out. On time there should be no mistake — Luge was very confident in his Stomach Timing Method.

(Chapter End)