Diary of a Dead Wizard-Chapter 209: The Evolution of an Egg

Gorsa considerately gave Saul a moment to wrestle with his thoughts. Once he saw Saul’s eyes gradually turn resolute, he smiled and continued explaining.

“As Wizard Apprentices, you're in the preliminary stage before becoming a True Wizard. Whether you're First Rank, Second Rank, or Third Rank, there's no essential difference. Maybe your magic is a bit stronger, maybe you've learned a few more spells, but in the eyes of a True Wizard, you're still as fragile as a peeled egg. There's only that thin membrane resisting the outside world, and a gust of wind might be all it takes to break it.”

“That’s why, during the apprenticeship stage, having a relatively stable learning environment is crucial for survival. You might think the death rate within the Wizard Tower is high, but that’s because you haven’t seen what the lives of wandering apprentices are like out there. Sure, those who survive constant brushes with death might become exceptionally strong, but there are very few survivors. That’s also why low-ranking wizards always tend to band together, forming all sorts of organizations.”

“As an apprentice, what you need to do is build a solid foundation of knowledge, then gradually broaden your horizons. From there, you determine the focus of your magical research. And based on that, choose your Locator.”

Hearing this, Saul shifted uncomfortably. His Locator hadn’t been chosen based on his research focus—it had come as part of the starter pack he received after transmigrating.

Though coincidentally, everything he researched revolved around death and souls.

“Next comes the complete fusion of your Locator—making it part of yourself, not just physically but soul as well. At that point, your egg has essentially been boiled. Your resistance to attacks increases significantly compared to your apprentice days. But even then, your strength is mostly just overwhelming to ordinary people. When it comes to magical creatures, you're still only on par with their infant stages.”

“That’s why First-Rank Wizards often use various methods to strengthen themselves. And by then, their bodies and minds are capable of withstanding the negative effects brought on by those enhancements.”

Following Gorsa’s example, Saul imagined it—maybe a First-Rank Wizard is trying hard to turn himself into from boiled egg… To a preserved egg?

After a short pause, Gorsa continued.

“If a First-Rank Wizard focuses mostly on exerting influence within and around their own body, then a Second-Rank Wizard’s sphere of influence is much wider. They can also withstand much stronger radiation, corruption, and contamination. Let me give you another example. If your mentor Kaz can kill ten people with a wave of his hand, then I, with a serious strike, could wipe out an entire army of hundreds. And if I got creative, I could kill thousands—perhaps even more.”

Saul’s jaw dropped. The power gap between Wizard Ranks was even more massive than he’d imagined.

It's like a First-Rank Wizard evolved from a preserved egg to an iron egg, and at the same time, armed with a submachine gun...

Then a Second-Rank Wizard might be a metallic pill... controlling a remote missile?

“As for those beyond Second Rank,” Gorsa smacked his lips, “you’ve been to Hanging Hand Valley—do you know its history?”

Saul had heard it from Senior Byron.

A Third-Rank Wizard had lifted an entire mountain, destroying a whole wizard army.

Even a Second-Rank Wizard—former emperor Morden—hadn’t survived. After his death, he became a wraith, eventually tricked by the diary into being a tool.

At that point, the "egg" analogy stopped making sense.

Maybe it wasn’t an egg anymore—it had become a bomb.

“As for Fourth Rank…” Gorsa's gaze turned wistful in a way it hadn't when he spoke of Third Rank. “I’ve never met one. But it’s said they’re beings who’ve transcended death. Truly killing a Fourth-Rank Wizard is extremely difficult. They’re like mushrooms—cut one down, and another pops up.”

Gorsa chuckled lightly. “I remember there used to be a joke about low-ranking apprentices being called white mushrooms. But once someone reaches Fourth Rank, they’re actually more like white mushrooms than the apprentices ever were.”

“Anything beyond that—Fifth Rank, Sixth Rank—is only ever mentioned in old texts.” Gorsa paused. “You don’t need to concern yourself with that. I’ll never even meet one.”

Saul gave a wry smile. He wasn’t all that eager to learn how powerful Fifth or Sixth Rank Wizards were anyway. Knowing might just make him more afraid.

Like knowing a meteor strike could wipe out the world and learning that there are already a few meteors hovering overhead, just waiting for a bad mood to fall from the sky.

You'd end up living every day in dread.

So, sometimes, knowing too much only leads to cognitive overload and damage that sneaks in quietly.

Still immersed in the new knowledge he’d just absorbed, Saul suddenly heard the Tower Master speak, “Really, I’m telling you all this now just to broaden your view a little. While you're in the Wizard Tower, you don’t need to worry too much about those stronger than you.”

Saul stared at the Tower Master, sensing that he was saying: “Don’t worry—I’ve got your back.”

He just couldn’t be sure if that “back” was covered by a shield, or a pot lid.

The mixed message left Saul feeling conflicted. He didn’t know whether to be grateful… or on guard.

He took a deep breath. As long as he kept growing stronger and used the diary to eliminate the threat of death, he wouldn’t have to worry about others’ intentions—good or bad.

If they were kind, he could repay them.

If they were malicious… he’d return it tenfold.

Saul looked up at the Tower Master and smiled. “I understand now, Tower Master. No matter why Victor or Kismet appeared at the Ralph Estate, what I should be focusing on now is my own studies and research. Next, I’ll dedicate myself to studying the Locator and advancing to the Third Rank Apprentice.”

Gorsa stood up straight from the sofa and looked down at Saul from above. “What you should prioritize now is resolving the growing incompatibility between your soul and body. I suggest refining your Soul Resin plan and focusing on improving your physical quality.”

“Saul,” Gorsa said gently but solemnly, “your soul has already far outpaced your body. I hope you remember the importance of the flesh. If you have no ideas, look into Ralph’s Fleshcrafting Magic for reference.”

“Ralph’s Fleshcrafting Magic?” Saul was stunned. Though he had inherited the Bloodthorn Family’s legacy, he hadn’t yet consciously linked it with his Soul Resin plan.

That was because he had just returned and hadn’t calmly reviewed his latest adventure.

“Tower Master, two years ago you severely wounded Ralph… did you do it so I could bring back the Fleshcrafting Magic?”

Gorsa didn’t deny it. “The Bloodthorn Family’s Fleshcrafting Magic is quite interesting. Among Dark Element wizards, they're one of the few who truly focus on the body.”

A thought struck Saul. “So… do all Dark Element wizards suffer from soul-body incompatibility?”

Was this what Mentor Kaz had once hinted at—the danger that came with knowledge?

This chapt𝒆r is updated by frёewebηovel.cѳm.

Gorsa nodded. “That’s a common ailment among Dark Element wizards, I’d say. They always believe the soul is the superior subject of study. You’re not the first apprentice to face this problem, and you won’t be the last. But your case is more severe than most I’ve seen.”

“It’s as if your body… tsk, doesn’t really like your soul.”

Saul could guess why.

This body wasn’t originally his.

It had bonded with the original Saul for twelve years, and only been with him for just over two. It was understandable that it might resist.

Saul suddenly turned to look back at the corpses.

Those people were long dead, yet a trace of chaotic consciousness still seemed to linger in their remains.

“Could it be that the original Saul’s soul is still inside my body?”

Saul pressed his lips tightly together.

“If that’s true… it must be purged!”

He absolutely wouldn’t allow anyone else to share his body—not even a sliver of residual consciousness.

Even though the original Saul was innocent, Saul wasn’t the one who killed him, either.

If it weren’t for him, this body—with whatever lingering consciousness it had—would already be in the ground fertilizing flowers.

(End of Chapter)