Whoosh.
Skyl opened his eyes and stretched out his hand. A black notebook emerged from his palm like a shadow, and The Wizard's Practical Guide appeared clearly before him.
Skyl had long since known that experiences in the dream world could affect reality. Even now, colorful burn marks still remained on his hands, the traces left by the light within the skull upon flesh and blood.
As a warlock, having the shape and traits of one's body contaminated by an otherworldly being was an inevitable part of the process. The fact that he had not grown horns or tentacles at this moment already proved that the contamination he had suffered was quite mild.
He set himself several goals. First, he had to continue copying runes and obtain the light within the skull. Second, he had to steer the glider canopy and explore the abnormal light source he had glimpsed yesterday. Third, he had to try completing the tasks issued by the Guide.
After so many days of trial and error, Skyl roughly understood what the light within the skull was. It was the manifestation of thought. Whenever Skyl immersed himself in copying runes, he could faintly feel trickling currents rushing through the nerves of his brain, flowing over the grooves and folds of the cortex, gradually gathering into a candleflame.
The chaotic, restless thoughts of the human mind were like ore, while total concentration was like a furnace. After tempering, usable steel could be obtained. This was the process through which the light within the skull was born.
Copying runes should not be the only way to obtain the light within the skull. Skyl guessed that immersive study and research could also produce it.
In the dream world, he had lit the silver-cast road, and seventy-two candleflames had gathered into a silver key, which he offered to the High Tower King. His patron forged those candleflames into a book, and now this Guide was the seed of power that marked Skyl's first step onto the path of a warlock.
While drifting through Wildspace, the pressure of death was always pressing close. After becoming a warlock, Skyl's physical condition had improved to a certain extent. For example, the many cuts inside his mouth caused by scraping fish scales had silently healed, his aching eyes had eased, and his stiff joints and muscles had become flexible and supple again.
Now, he had greater confidence that he could survive in this desolate universe.
Skyl had thought about it. Since fish schools could exist in space, and since he was also a living creature, why could he not adapt to this place and survive as well?
At this thought, all the previous frustration and sorrow were swept away. When he looked again at this vast, starlit expanse of space, he even felt a trace of familiarity.
Using the planet as his reference point, Skyl relocated his destination, raised the glider canopy, and drifted in roughly the right direction.
In truth, he also knew that such a rough search would probably yield nothing, but in Wildspace, hope and goals were more precious than anything else. They could turn a person into a moth flying toward flame, one after another, without retreat.
His heart beat on and on. His body heat leaked away in the wind. By the time he felt tired, he had already drifted more than a hundred miles. He put away the glider canopy and ate some dried fish meat, then began repeating the work of copying runes.
Inside the dream tower, the floor was smooth marble, but with a thought from Skyl, it could also transform into common materials such as sand or wooden planks. It responded extremely well, so his copying work was not affected.
After becoming a warlock, his spirit became more vigorous. In the past, copying four runes in a row would make his head feel as if it were splitting apart. Now, he could reach six and still have some strength left.
Every time he copied a rune, the light within the skull it generated would be absorbed and stored by the Guide. On the first page after the cover, a colorful illustration appeared. The picture showed the same winding silver-cast road, dotted with rising candleflames, pointing toward the faintly visible tower in the background.
Today's harvest was six candleflames.
Before he knew it, he fell into deep sleep. When he was woken by the sound of the wind again, Skyl looked around. Space remained so deathly silent that it made his heart tremble. He suspected there were actually many things around him, only hidden in the darkness where he could not see them clearly.
The remaining food was enough for two more days. Water was even more scarce, already reaching an unbearable point.
Skyl placed his hope in the Daily Study Task in the Guide. The so-called Energy Potion given as a reward should be able to replenish some of his water.
And studying was naturally not something that could be done through empty imagination. Otherwise, Skyl would not have minded repeatedly muttering "abandon" for two hours.
Because of that, he needed a textbook, especially a thick one.
(Otherworldly Knowledge): You can always trust medical books. They're thick enough to use as bricks.
Skyl smiled and said, "Thank you for the reminder."
The Guide's archive exchange contained quite a lot of subject knowledge. Most of the introductory books that did not involve supernatural power required only one candleflame.
Skyl spent one point of light within the skull to exchange for Exercise and Medicine, preparing to learn some medical knowledge. He was still very worried about his own health. Exchanged books would be displayed directly inside the Guide, making them extremely convenient to consult.
He read the book by starlight and found many stretches and muscle-relaxing movements inside. After practicing them a little, he felt the exhaustion from drifting ease considerably.
Two hours passed before he realized it. The task was completed, and an illustration appeared in the Guide.
The picture showed a bottle of sky-blue potion, with an attached description: Produced by the Tower of Tomes. Effectively relieves fatigue. Truly a holy item for wizards pulling all-nighters.
Skyl reached out and touched it. He felt as if his fingers had dipped into water. Then he touched something solid and pulled it out.
A glass bottle of Energy Potion entered his hand. He pulled out the stopper and drank it. It smelled faintly of mint. A cold current spread from his stomach, merged into his flesh and blood, and transformed into a soothing warmth. It traveled through the nerve endings of his limbs and bones, entered his spinal cord, and then reached straight into his brain. His mind instantly felt cool and clear, even his eyes turning icy and refreshed.
Such a bottle of potion only required two hours of focused study to obtain. It could relieve fatigue, replace sleep, and provide a small amount of water and energy. It was truly a great bargain.
What made Skyl even happier was that the process of focused study could also condense the light within the skull. In fact, this was the correct way to shape it.
Two consecutive hours of immersive study had provided three candleflames. Learning was like solving a mystery. There were countless small questions and difficulties, and each time one was answered, the light within the skull became a little more condensed. The deeper the thought, the more the mind could gather.
Compared to mechanically copying runes, Skyl preferred this method.
Later that day, the celestial conditions changed. The wind around him surged violently, howling by his ears like bellowing cattle.
Skyl carefully operated the glider canopy, trying to move toward an area with gentler wind. However, the Wildspace wind belt stretched across hundreds of millions of miles, and even changes in air currents were measured in thousands of miles. He could not escape the strong-wind zone for the time being, so he quickly folded away the canopy, curled himself up, and drifted with the wind.
He felt as if he had become a piece of meat jerky gradually turning cold and hard. The vast power of the universe could only be rivaled by gods. He had merely just stepped onto the path of a warlock, and in the face of a natural disaster, he could do nothing.
Skyl shivered violently from the cold as his body temperature dropped rapidly.
(Otherworldly Knowledge): Some Alaska Native peoples lived in freezing regions and relied on fish-skin clothing to keep warm. You can try that too.
He quickly wrapped the fish-skin canopy around himself and pressed the remaining fish skin tightly against his abdomen. Sure enough, this slowed the loss of heat.
He did not know how long the intensified wind would last, so Skyl had no choice but to immerse himself in the dream world for more of the time, devoting himself to cultivation inside the tower.
One day, the gale finally stopped. Skyl opened his eyes in a daze. His entire body was in constant, severe pain. He was covered in wounds, and his back felt as if it had been torn open. He suspected some part of his body had been snapped off by the wind, so he waved his limbs around wildly, but then he felt something solid and hard beneath him. Shocked, he got up and looked around, only to discover that he had actually been blown onto an asteroid.
Looking out into space, hundreds of thousands of tiny celestial bodies were scattered into a belt. Under the sunlight, every dim asteroid had a silver-white outline.
Wildspace algae, cnidarians, fish schools, moths, space jellyfish, giant whales, aberrations, undead spirits, magical merchant ships, raider vessels, and countless other things all haunted this asteroid belt at the edge of the crystal sphere.
(Otherworldly Knowledge): Looks like the wind blew you ashore. Welcome to the biological paradise.
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