Chapter 82: The Beginning of the Underground City

Over the next few days of travel, Zhao Xu was finally free from any monstrous traits manifesting on his body, and the entire journey passed in peace. This was precisely why he had chosen this smuggling caravan. Official caravans could still catch the eye of some opportunistic bandits, but if an underground force like Roya’s, capable of operating at the smuggling level, couldn’t intimidate the local riffraff along the way, then it would be a real joke.

“Midsummer, sir? Is that a spell scroll in your hand?” A few days later, the bard couldn’t help but finally ask Zhao Xu.

From the first day Zhao Xu took out a scroll, the bard had been quietly counting. By today, Zhao Xu had already pulled out more than ten scrolls. At the price of twenty-five gold pieces per first-level spell scroll, Zhao Xu’s assets amounted to several hundred gold, making him a veritable tycoon among players. Even so, the bard had still underestimated him by two zeroes.

South Pole Frog, the bard, had noticed that Zhao Xu didn’t copy spells from the scrolls into a spellbook like ordinary wizards. Even more astonishing, a typical wizard would need a long time to read and comprehend a spell, usually recording one spell per day, or at most two if pushing it. Zhao Xu, on the other hand, was breezing through four or five spells in a single day.

“Yes,” Zhao Xu replied just as he finished using his Mindful Caster ability to record the first-level arcane spell “Obscuring Mist” into his mind.

Before parting ways, Antinoya, moved by Zhao Xu’s lament about the hardships of novice wizards, had handed him a batch of first-level scrolls, instructing him to copy them whenever he had a chance on his journey.

A wizard could copy a spell from another’s spellbook or from a scroll. Copying from a spellbook could alter its structure, sometimes causing the original spell to vanish. This was why novice wizard players were wary about freely lending spellbooks—in mutual exchanges, you risked losing your own spells. The Wizard’s Guild certainly wouldn’t let you copy them again for free just because a spell vanished from your book. Once you graduated and left the guild, you had to pay proper fees for copying or borrowing spells.

Copying from a scroll, however, always rendered the scroll blank, as if it had been used. So Zhao Xu hadn’t dared relax for a single moment these past days; copying them down as soon as possible was the only way to claim them as his own. If he delayed, and one day needed a spell he hadn’t recorded, he’d have to painfully use up the scroll itself. Until he could buy another or borrow a spellbook, he wouldn’t be able to master that spell.

“Midsummer, are you copying spells? Where’s your spellbook?” the cleric Youyou asked in surprise.

She had spent the past few days preparing for her monthly exam, reviewing high school material and doing practice questions in the wagon, so she hadn’t paid much attention to Zhao Xu’s activities.

“I haven’t mastered the ‘Copy Scroll’ ability. I just memorize them. Besides, I obtain my spells through prayer and meditation,” Zhao Xu replied evasively.

The others immediately fell silent. Since the wraith incident, they’d all looked up the Mentor class on the forums. The Mentor could research spells, but only obtained them through prayer and meditation. Spellcasting was perhaps its only real strength, and it lacked the abilities of clerics and wizards, making it about as bland as could be. In fact, the handful of Mentor players on the forums could only obtain a smattering of spells through prayer, making for a rather meager experience.

“So, Midsummer, you must have inherited quite a stash from your mentor, right?” asked Rainbow the Rogue, licking his lips, his eyes gleaming with gold. “Any interest in selling a few magic scrolls?”

“That’s not an inheritance,” Zhao Xu gently corrected, unwilling to jinx Antinoya. When he spoke of “the last time,” he’d only meant their last meeting, but these players had interpreted it as her final moments—not his fault.

“By the way, Miss Cleric, aren’t you a high school student? Don’t you have classes?” Unwilling to be pressed about his own secrets, Zhao Xu shifted the conversation to the cleric, who had the most obvious weak spots.

“Me?” Youyou beamed. “I’m on medical leave right now, staying home to recover. It’s boring at home, so I log in to play. In my free time, I keep up with my studies so I don’t fall behind. Honestly, the religious lore in this game is even more of a headache than schoolwork.”

“Youyou’s legs are injured. We're all friends or relatives from real life, so we adventure together,” Maple the Warrior explained softly.

That caught Zhao Xu off guard. He noticed that only Youyou seemed unfazed, while Rainbow and the bard both lowered their heads. He realized then that her injury was likely more serious than a simple sprain—probably paralysis.

Zhao Xu never considered himself a saint out to save the world, nor was he the kind to refuse a meal while others went hungry. Yet, when tragedy appeared before him, he still found it hard to turn away and always felt moved to help. That was his nature—he couldn't do much for all the world’s suffering, but when it crossed his path, even if it was just an online fundraising post, he’d at least donate something.

“It’s all right. No one can predict the future. Maybe in less than a year, your legs will be fine again,” Zhao Xu said to Youyou.

Only he knew that his words were truth, not just comfort. A year later, when players truly entered Arthur’s world, their bodies would be reshaped according to their attributes. That was why Zhao Xu was wary of having a Charisma of only 8—life was hard enough already without ending up with a face two grades below average in Arthur as well.

“Ah, Midsummer, it’s just a sprain. Another week of rest and I’ll be fine,” Youyou replied with a bright smile.

Only then did Zhao Xu realize he’d been had. The previously serious bard and rogue were now doing their best not to laugh outright. So they’d all been pulling his leg.

“If you keep playing pranks like this, be careful you don’t slip into the chaotic alignment,” Zhao Xu warned, exasperated.

“We were never lawful to begin with,” the bard and rogue replied in unison.

Zhao Xu shot a look at Youyou. “And you? Your goddess is neutral good, you know.”

“Hehe, I’m definitely good! Slipping one step won’t hurt,” Youyou replied with a sly grin.

Zhao Xu understood now—this clever cleric was clearly complicit in their joke. No wonder they made such a good team.

“Just a bit of fun,” Maple said with a hearty laugh.

Laughter filled the wagon.

“So, you’re only resting for a week. Is reviewing concepts in-game enough? Don’t you need to do practice tests?” Zhao Xu, returning to his original question, pressed on.

Youyou replied openly and confidently, “I’ve already got a guaranteed spot at university. I’m just reviewing a bit for the monthly exam so my grades don’t look too bad.”

Zhao Xu could only nod in silence—clearly, this was someone living in ‘winner mode,’ with no need for his concern.

Suddenly, the wagon slowed.

After a few days of Zhao Xu’s lectures, the four of them immediately gripped their weapons. Even Zhao Xu was ready to cast a spell at a moment’s notice if anything seemed amiss.

“Brave adventurers, I have a task I’d like to discuss with you. May I come in and say a few words?” Roya’s voice called from outside.

Maple looked back at Zhao Xu for his opinion.

Zhao Xu nodded.

In this wild and desolate place, if someone came looking for help, could there be a hidden dungeon nearby?