Chapter 274 - 26: An Important Paper of Subversive Significance

Chapter 274: Chapter 26: An Important Paper of Subversive Significance

A long day and night finally came to an end.

It was the sixth day since Mo Ning had been promoted to Apprentice.

He remained seated at the desk in the Cabin in the Woods. He had barely left his seat, having only risen three times.

He had reached a staggering milestone in his reading of the Art of Complex Divination Pattern Group—page 715.

The entire book was only 1500 pages, which meant that in just twenty-four hours, he had finished nearly half.

Meanwhile, the total page count of the manuscript Mo Ning had churned out in that first day’s frenzy reached a staggering 7,348 pages.

The thousands of manuscript pages were proof that this was no mere skimming. He had meticulously studied every sentence, every paragraph.

Flower could no longer find the right words to describe her feelings.

Furthermore, she observed a result even more ’game-changing’ than she’d predicted—her master’s Spiritual Strength had increased by a full 1.45 points.

In just one day, he had nearly reached the theoretical limit of Soul Spirit Water!

Her master’s Spiritual Strength had now climbed to a new peak of 2.56 points.

According to her calculations, the increase over the next one to two days would be between 0.45 and 0.5 points.

Whether the final number landed on the low or high end of that range, it would undoubtedly far exceed the theoretical limit.

If this number got out, it would likely shock even a Second Level Wizard.

This boy’s performance was rewriting the Artificial Soul’s understanding time and time again.

Of course, all of this was assuming an ideal scenario.

The Artificial Soul had keenly detected a troubling sign, however. Her master’s Spiritual Strength was, after all, still too low. For the first time, an undeniable exhaustion surfaced on his face.

Exhaustion, clearly, was not conducive to studying profound Divination Scripture. It was even less helpful for resisting the corruption from the Soul of Deathly Silence.

Flower knew perfectly well. ’Every hour from now on will mean a more severe test for my master.’

Another half hour flew by.

Mo Ning rubbed his sore eyes, stood up from the sofa for the fourth time, and stretched his arms and legs.

The fatigue made his brain sluggish. An irritability he hadn’t felt in a long time crept back, like an invisible chisel carving faint lines onto his face.

He let out a long breath, but it did nothing to suppress the negative emotions threatening to break free from their restraints.

Even so, the Pen of Contemplation did not rest. Its tip flew across the paper at a dizzying speed.

Flower could only watch in awe.

"Mr. Mo Ning, would you like something to eat?"

The Artificial Soul’s voice was gentle and pleasant, yet tinged with a hint of worry.

There wasn’t much she could do in a situation like this. She could only hope that the comfort of good food might bring her master a little joy and help him endure this difficult period.

Mo Ning paced for a few steps. He glanced at the manuscript the pen was still furiously producing, then nodded. "I am a little hungry. I’ll have a mushroom omelet."

"Right away!"

Flower replied cheerfully.

To ensure her master had a ready supply of food, she had spent the last few months diligently scouring the Birch Forest for eggs. As of today, she had stockpiled over two thousand of them in the kitchen.

The various birds in the vicinity were having some rotten luck. They frequently suffered the misfortune of having their nests raided, only to return and find half their eggs missing.

But to Flower, it still wasn’t enough.

Winter was coming in just two more months, and by then, finding bird eggs in the Birch Forest would be impossible.

In less than a minute.

Flower cooked a fragrant mushroom omelet with incredible speed and eagerly served it to her master.

She was delighted to see Mo Ning take a bite. His eyes immediately narrowed in pleasure, and much of the irritation on his face faded.

The sight filled the Artificial Soul with joy.

Before long.

The thick omelet was devoured.

But the happiness brought by the delicious food was too fragile in the face of the corruption. It was like a sandcastle on a beach, utterly unable to withstand the tide’s assault.

Barely ten minutes had passed.

Flower keenly sensed the irritation return, stubbornly creeping back onto her master’s face like a Resentful Spirit that could not be exorcised.

Her invisible gaze swept over Mo Ning’s abdomen as she hesitated, wondering if she should prepare another dish.

But before the Artificial Soul could make a decision, something on the desk suddenly changed.

The Pen of Contemplation, which had been working at high speed for an entire day and night, stopped for the first time in the morning light.

It stood on the paper, its body tilted at a slight angle, giving off the impression that the pen itself was exhausted.

Flower froze for a second, then quickly asked, "Mr. Mo Ning, do you have any instructions for me?"

Mo Ning reached up to rub the tense spot between his eyebrows. "I need to switch gears," he said softly. "Bring me a stack of paper. I want to write a paper."

While absorbing new knowledge still brought him pleasure, the threshold for that pleasure was irreversibly rising over time.

If understanding a new concept initially brought him a nine out of ten on the happiness scale, a day later, that same accomplishment only brought him a three.

This was no longer enough to combat the corruption from the Soul of Deathly Silence.

So he needed a different approach.

This was one of the backup plans he had prepared.

"Of course!"

Flower quickly fulfilled her master’s request.

The Pen of Contemplation had only caught its breath for a few seconds before it was moved onto a stack of blank scale pattern paper, where its tip immediately began to race wildly, SWISHING across the page.

The Artificial Soul glanced at the Ink Tube Pen, feeling a pang of sympathy for the strange Resentful Spirit that enjoyed teasing people with knowledge.

But her sympathy lasted for only half a second.

After all, Resentful Spirits were beings that couldn’t die from exhaustion.

Flower’s curious gaze swept across the paper, catching a long title as it rapidly appeared: