The Sorcerer's Handbook-Chapter 4: Watcher

On a small island in the dream.

It was called a "small island" simply because Sonya didn't know what else to call it with her limited vocabulary. In reality, it was little more than a palm-sized mound rising from the sea, fragile enough that the waves could swallow it at any moment.

However, the sea was calm, very calm, with not even a hint of wind. Sonya stood with her legs in the water, her feet on the wet sand, and looked around.

Thick, milky-white fog filled every part of the dream. The sky looked like a smear of dense, murky ink.

Sonya thought, This must be a dream.

She clearly remembered falling asleep in the girls' dormitory at the Sword and Roses Sorcerer University, so there was no way she could have ended up on a small island.

With that in mind, Sonya visibly relaxed.

She had never been to the seaside or tasted seawater before, so she had no idea what it should taste like. Out of curiosity, she crouched down and tried a sip, only to realize it wasn't anything like the bitter saltiness described in her online courses. It tasted like regular drinking water, with even a faint hint of sweetness.

Sonya grew even more certain this was a dream. She looked towards the center of the small island. "But if this is a dream... Why would I dream of a person I've never seen before?"

A stranger’s body was found fixed in a half-kneeling position at the center of the small island.

It was dressed in a pitch-black overcoat with a hood that concealed its features. The heavy clothing made it impossible to discern its gender. Its left hand rested on the scabbard at its waist, while its right remained on the hilt of an undrawn sword, looking as if it were trying to grip it. Judging from its posture, the body had been stabbed through the heart before it had the chance to draw its weapon.

Other than the body and the sand, there was nothing else on the tiny island. Since Sonya couldn't swim and believed she was dreaming, she had no fear of the body and approached it boldly to examine it.

She noticed the longsword still dripping blood from the spot where it had impaled the body. Blood traced down the elegant engravings along the blade and flowed toward the dark ruby set in the crossguard, making the entire weapon seem almost alive.

Before Sonya even realized it, her hand was already wrapped tightly around the longsword. This is so magnificent...

The scabbard fit perfectly in her palm. The ornate engravings appealed flawlessly to her sense of aesthetics, and the sword felt like an extension of her own body. Everything about it made her feel as if it had been custom-forged just for her.

Without much thought, Sonya pulled the longsword free from the body.

She had assumed the body would collapse once the sword was removed, so she stepped back to avoid being struck by the falling body.

Yet the body did not fall. On the contrary, it stood up.

The sharp clang of metal heels against sand echoed as the body slowly straightened its back under Sonya's terrified gaze. It drew its cold, razor-edged longsword.

Swish.

The blade cut through the air as the body leveled its tip at her. Sonya couldn't see its features clearly, but could feel a pair of icy, emotionless eyes fixed on her.

It sounded neither male nor female. Instead, it was as if grinding mechanical gears had been forced into the shape of speech. "Don't worry, swordswoman. This time, I am not your enemy. I will simply kill you, that's all."

Sonya gripped the ornate longsword tightly, as if doing so could grant her some sense of security. Your definition of "enemy" seems to differ quite a bit from the norm...

She asked with a slightly trembling voice, "Who are you?"

"I am called the Watcher of Doomsday. You may call me the Watcher. For the next seventy-two hours, you will remain here unless you defeat me. If not, you may leave only after seventy-two hours have passed."

Sonya's eyes widened. "Isn't this a dream?"

"The only difference between dreams and reality is that reality is a dream woven collectively, while dreams... are the cages you build for yourself."

The moment the Watcher finished speaking, he stamped on the sand and lunged. He slashed his blade at her. She had already retreated as far as she could, yet she still couldn't dodge that blinding strike.

***

"You have ten seconds to rest."

Sonya found herself back on the island. She fell to her knees, hands clutching her throat, her expression frozen in fear.

The pain felt horribly real. She truly felt her neck being severed by the Watcher.

If this were a dream, such pain would have jolted her awake in her warm, comfortable bed. Yet...

"Ten seconds is up. I advise you to hold your sword tightly. Only then can you..."

Sonya lifted her head and saw that the Watcher had already sheathed his sword at his waist. He dropped into a drawing stance, then kicked off the sand and charged.

In a panic, Sonya raised her longsword and stepped back, but the Watcher moved with such abrupt speed that he covered more than a dozen paces at once. By the time she noticed the trail of his blade, he was already behind her. "Die a little more dignified."

***

"You have ten seconds to rest."

The instant Sonya regained her senses from the agony of decapitation, she did not hesitate at all to turn around and jump into the sea, despite not knowing how to swim.

The fear of death apparently awakened her hidden potential. Sonya somehow managed to learn to swim on instinct alone, though it was nothing more than a frantic, clumsy doggy paddle that sent water splashing everywhere. She didn't care in the slightest. As long as I get to escape this terrifying little island and that creepy Watcher, anything is fine!

If she hadn't felt hungry in this dreamscape, Sonya might have even considered using the "fart propulsion" trick from jokes.

Amid the splashing, she clearly heard the Watcher's voice. "Fleeing is shameful... and cowardly."

A sudden chill crept up the back of her neck. Sonya looked down just in time to see the icy tip of a sword pierce through it.

***

Before the full wave of pain could hit her, she was back on the island.

"You have ten seconds to rest."

This time, she didn't run. Instead, she watched the Watcher's hands.

"You seemed to be hoping that I'd have no weapon left after throwing my sword at you just now. After dying so many times, how are you still this naive?"[1]

Sonya managed a bitter smile. "Isn't that a little unreasonable?"

"Reason only exists at the tip of a blade. Trying to argue with your mouth is pointless. Convince me with your sword inste—"

Before he finished, Sonya once again leaped into the sea. This time, she didn't swim, but dove underwater to evade the Watcher.

She thought, You can't exactly cut through the sea, can you! 𝚏𝕣𝕖𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚗𝐨𝐯𝕖𝕝.𝕔𝐨𝕞

Sure enough, time slipped by, from five seconds to ten... thirty... and finally a full minute. The Watcher hadn't attacked.

But soon, she was on the brink of blacking out, gasping for oxygen. Is this really a dream!? Why would my mind still black out from lack of oxygen!?"

The agony of holding her breath nearly rivaled the pain of being decapitated. Sonya couldn't endure it any longer. She broke the surface at a random spot and gasped for air. At the same time, she silently prayed. If I just breathe for a second or two, there's no way he can detect me that fast, right?

***

A few seconds later, Sonya found herself back on the island, covering her mouth where it had just been pierced. She frantically licked her teeth to make sure the flying sword hadn't sliced her tongue.

"You have ten seconds to rest."

Sonya shouted, "Watcher!"

Rage filled her face, and she gritted her teeth. Gripping her longsword tightly, she summoned the courage to step toward him.

The Watcher lightly brushed his hand over the hilt of his sword. "If you want to cut your rest short, I have no objection."

Thud!

Sonya dropped to her knees in front of him.

"Great, merciful, compassionate unknown deity... I, Sonya, swear to pray and praise you day and night, listen to your sacred words, follow your miracles, and chant your will... Please don't torture me like this anymore. Just tell me what you want. I'm very obedient, I'll listen, you can order me to do anything... sniff, sniff..."

The Watcher asked, "Anything?"

Sonya looked up with tearful, doe eyes and faintly flushed cheeks. She hesitated, then gritted her teeth and nodded.

"Very well," the Watcher gripped his sword hilt and took his stance. "I order you to... defeat me."

Clang!

***

"You have ten seconds to rest."

Sonya lay limply in the sand, staring blankly up at the pitch-black sky. Puzzled, she flopped up like a fish and asked, "Why are you wasting time on a small fry like me? There are so many heinous sinners in this world; if you want to punish evil, I can recommend a few people. Or if you're a villain yourself, I can also suggest a few high-ranking, pretentious hypocrites.

"I'm just an ordinary female student, and I'm really not worth all the effort you're putting into dealing with me. What you're doing now is like using a spiral beam cannon to swat a mosquito, or having a swordsman chop firewood. It's an enormous waste of resources, don't you agree?

"Just tell me what you want me to do. I'm clearly just a weak, delicate flower, meant to be at everyone's mercy, going wherever life takes me."

Sonya tried to persuade him with both logic and emotion, but the Watcher simply shook his head. "You're mistaken."

Sonya quickly asked, "Where did I go wrong? Tell me, I'll fix it."

"You've been wrong from the very first word you said."

"My first word?"

"How can you be certain," the Watcher said, gripping his sword hilt and taking up his stance, "that you didn't offend me in the past?"

Clang!

***

"You have ten seconds to rest."

Perhaps from dying so frequently, Sonya had come to find decapitation almost ordinary. She had grown used to the pain, and it no longer fazed her.

She looked up at the Watcher. "So once I stay here for seventy-two hours, I can finally leave this goddamn dream?"

The Watcher nodded. "Correct. But beware, there are no clocks here. Compared to a lifetime, seventy-two hours is brief, but in the face of death, seventy-two hours is anything but short. Can you really endure continuous death for that long?

"Besides, why would you trust the words of someone who keeps killing you in a dream? What if I'm lying?

"And even if you did escape the dream tonight, what about tomorrow night, or the night after?"

The Watcher took up his stance. "Since you've witnessed death, do not expect miracles."

Clang!

The Watcher stepped forward, spinning a full 360 degrees as he swung his sword in a horizontal slash. In an instant, he crossed over a dozen steps. His longsword cut through the air with immense centrifugal force, aiming to behead Sonya once more, as effortlessly as a hot knife slicing through butter.

Clang!

For the first time, Sonya parried the Watcher's blade.

Her face was now completely devoid of emotion. The earlier fear, anger, killing intent, and pleading had vanished, replaced by the coldest stillness. The Watcher's indistinct form reflected in her ruby-red pupils, as though she were etching him deep into her mind. "You left me no choice."

1. For clarity, earlier, the Watcher had thrown his sword at Sonya while she was in the sea. When she returned to the island, she watched his hands, hoping that the sword wouldn't return to him and that he would be left unarmed. ☜