The black sun hangs high

Chapter 4
Having successfully destroyed his own bedroom door, Hugh didn't have time to clean up the mess, because the magic he had successfully unleashed instantly drained the little magic power left in his body and successfully broke his spirit.

Coupled with the excessive physical exertion from being forcibly inscribed with magic, Hugh simply collapsed onto his bed and fell into a deep sleep.

Ironically, this was the deepest sleep he had ever had since he came into this world.

There was no fear of the future, no resentment towards the past, and none of the jumbled words I had once written...

There is only one dream.

A dream that was both complex and simple.

In his dream, Hugh saw an enormous ship sailing on a vast, boundless ocean. Towering waves crashed against the ship, and all sorts of strange creatures leaped out of the water, casting curious glances at it.

He dreamt that he was standing on the deck of a large ship with a compass in his hand. However, the ship was quite old and the waves were too rough, so he couldn't see where the compass was pointing. He could only feel that the seemingly huge old ship was struggling in the giant waves.

Dreams are absurd.

The next moment, Hugh found his gaze drifting back to the top of the ship. He realized his body seemed even larger now, the ship appearing like a wooden model in a bathtub. Remembering his terrible experience on the ship, he reached out like a bewildered infant, gently squeezing the massive vessel, wanting to replace some of its parts...

"Crench!"

The groaning of the old floorboards roused Hugh from his hazy dream. He opened his eyes to find himself enveloped in darkness, the sunlight streaming through the curtains no longer the afternoon sun, but the faint glow of the magical streetlights outside.

He turned his head with some difficulty, only to see the light of a lantern shining down in the corridor leading to the bedroom.

Hugh instantly snapped back to reality. Ignoring his weakness, he quickly got up and grabbed an empty vase from the bedside table: "Who's there!"

"Hey, it's me, it's me!"

A familiar voice came from above, and soon, accompanied by the creaking of the floorboards, the dim yellow light moved in, and the figure carrying the lantern revealed itself: "Hilf, what happened in your house? Are you alright?"

Hughes recognized the voice and breathed a sigh of relief, immediately lying back down on the damp bed.

The visitor was named Putrin Gulan, and by blood he belonged to the Kingdom of Delan. It is said that his ancestors had witnessed the rise and fall of the city of Seren and the negotiations between the two kingdoms. They even once held a prominent position. However, the Gulan family has long since declined, and Putrin, as the sole heir of this fallen family, has brazenly become a young thief in the city of Seren.

Before the original owner of Hugh's body was banished to Seren, Putrin had been secretly living in the Ernst family's old mansion. It was because of this that the two equally down-on-their-luck young men formed a strange and profound friendship.

Even though Hugh had only been in this body for three days, he could clearly feel the original owner's trust in Putrin, and his understanding of the situation in Seren City over the past two days mostly came from this special friend.

"Thanks for Hilf's protection, I thought you were dead... All the doors and windows were locked, and the place is a mess."

Hugh shook his head weakly on the bed: "Your god of thieves won't protect me."

"Alright, then I will thank the god of love and the god of pen and ink on your behalf, for their mercy in not taking away your genius, is that alright?"

"..."

Hugh was too tired to argue or fight. He struggled to move a couple of times and finally slid off the bed. Just then, Putrin lit the old magic lamp in the room.

A youthful face appeared in the dim light. Overall, he was quite handsome, but a scar on his right cheek ruined his good looks. His left eye was still bruised from a fight, and there was stubble on his lips.

This is a very typical young man from Serenity.

This applies whether judging from appearance or temperament.

Putrin extinguished his lantern, then helped Hugh to a chair beside the bed. He looked at the missing doorframe, then at the sweat-soaked bed, and asked疑惑地问道, "What happened? I went to the tavern last night, and Sally said you hadn't shown up since you left at noon..."

As he spoke, he glanced again at the drawn curtains and the closed windows: "The front door is also locked. I checked, there's no sign of anyone coming in from the outside. How did you manage to do this?"

The moment he heard the question, Hugh's previously sluggish thoughts immediately cleared up.

He sat down and took a couple of deep breaths, his gaze sweeping over the thick door panel that had fallen over in the corridor and was already somewhat deformed.

Years of experience in fabricating stories honed at work allowed Hughes to quickly come up with a story. He pursed his lips and forced a somewhat awkward smile: "Nothing much, I just had a fight with the newspaper about the manuscript... I was planning to take a nap after I got back, but the more I thought about it, the angrier I got, so I ended up taking it out on the door."

After saying that, he shrugged: "As you know, this house is very old, and I didn't expect this broken door to be so fragile."

"The newspaper? Or is it because of the time they used your pen name without your consent?"

"No, but pretty much, and they seem to want to continue to suppress my royalties."

As Hughes rambled on, he walked unsteadily to the desk, picked up the kettle, poured himself a glass of cold water, and took a big gulp.

The city of Seren would get very cold at night, so the water was also somewhat chilly. As he felt the icy sensation rush down his throat and down his esophagus to his abdomen, Hugh's body finally came to its senses.

At this moment, Putrin, like all young people who are easily hot-blooded, began to vent his dissatisfaction and anger on behalf of Hugh: "How can these things raised by giant-eared goblins live so comfortably? In my opinion, they deserve to be dragged to the crystal mine of the Law Council and buried, and then dug out by the miners and stuffed into the furnace in a few decades or hundreds of years!"

"Don't they know how important your work is? Even the swamp witches know to support the fishermen they kidnap. Do these bastards really understand what they're doing?" Putlin's ability to curse was outstanding, and his language was very varied, full of the unique beauty of the streets and alleys.

However, Hugh was quite dissatisfied with comparing himself to the fishermen who were captured by the swamp witches and used as "tools".

Just as Hughes was about to offer some words of advice to Putrin, a strong feeling of hunger suddenly rose up, and the words that were about to come out of his mouth immediately changed. He shook his head and said, "Let's not talk about this anymore. Anyway, the manuscript is due tomorrow morning... What time is it now? I've slept too long. I'm going to go get something to eat."

"It's past mealtime, but all the taverns are still open."

Putrin's anger vanished instantly. He leaned over and patted Hugh on the shoulder: "Want to go have a drink with Sally? To be precise, I'll drink, and you can eat!"

"Row."

Hughes nodded, then quickly changed into clean clothes, gathered the documents on the table, and went out with Putlin.

……

The city of Seren is a completely different place at night.

The streets were bustling with activity, and many festive decorations that had already been hung up shimmered with colorful light in the night. The merchants and craftsmen who sold the decorations were very clever. They ground the waste crystal ore containing rare magic into fine powder and then added it to the decorations made of metal and glass. Therefore, as soon as night fell, these decorations would glow under the influence of magic. Although it would not last long, their low cost and price were enough to add some color to the lives of the lower-class residents.

Because Seren is famous for its sour beer, most residents have a habit of going out for a couple of drinks at night. On ordinary days, you can see many miners coming from nearby mines to drink together. However, because the festival is approaching, Seren is no longer open to people. Therefore, most of the people on the streets are locals with a little money in their pockets or tourists who have come here specifically for the festival.

Putrin was known by many people, so he would often greet various people as he walked.

Sometimes Hugh was really curious about how this guy managed to get along so well with the people in this small town.

Moreover, it's a fusion of two different meanings.

Hugh walked silently to the side as always, a trait that remained unchanged both before and after he took over the body, and thus naturally went unnoticed by anyone.

A middle-aged man wearing the "Raindrop" mage badge walked past Hugh. After watching him enter a secluded tavern, Hugh withdrew his gaze, and his thoughts began to race: "Now it's basically confirmed that I have indeed completed the inscription of magic... and my previous guess about that dream world was not wrong. As long as the corresponding price and resources are paid, one can obtain the corresponding power from it. Although the process of obtaining power may be full of pain, the benefits it brings are real."

A somewhat pungent smell wafted through the air, originating from a vehicle loaded with many heavy wooden crates parked in front of a shop, where several people were busy unloading the goods.

In modern Vaan, vehicles that use secondary crystal ore as fuel can be seen everywhere. In kingdoms filled with nobles, similar things are even more common. However, unlike the vehicles used to transport goods, noble lords always have many new requirements for their vehicles.

Generally speaking, with the city of Seren now officially closed, delivery vehicles can no longer enter the city normally. Therefore, this rough-looking and heavy-looking truck is either transporting goods within the city or has some way to get through the closed city gates.

So Hugh couldn't help but take a second look.

"call!"

Putrin really enjoyed the smell of the vehicle exhaust. He didn't care at all about the pungent smell left after the secondary crystal ore burned out; in fact, he even seemed to enjoy it. When he saw Hugh stop, he reached out and patted him on the shoulder: "What are you looking at?"

"Looking for inspiration."

"Oh? Looking for inspiration?"

Putlin became interested: "So you're planning to write something new next time? Can you give me a hint? It can't be something like that in a car, can it? I've never heard of that kind of idea before!"

"..."

Hugh, of course, knew what Putrin was talking about. He shook his head: "It's not very realistic. You know, if a vehicle were like that, the interior would be narrow and small, and it wouldn't be aesthetically pleasing at all."

“Let’s change the scene. I’ve seen Mr. Water’s car before. It was so big and spacious, and all the metal edges were covered with velvet. Tsk tsk.”

"I don't want to get into trouble."

"Okay, for safety reasons, but I really think this idea is great, and maybe a lot of people would like to watch it."

A night breeze blew by, and Hugh took a deep breath. The fresh air dispelled the jumbled thoughts in his mind and brought his attention back to the predicament he was about to face.

For the first time, Hugh smelled magic in the air. Just as the spellcasters had described, it was an extremely abstract and indescribable vague feeling. Hugh felt that with each breath and step, the huge disc that had been dormant in his mental world seemed to begin to rotate at an extremely slow rate.

After Hugh had exhausted his magic power, the hexagonal groove pattern on the innermost side of the disc had become extremely dim. But now, Hugh noticed that with the injection of that weak magic power, the pattern symbolizing the strange tentacle magic had once again revealed a copper-green fluorescence.

"Logically speaking, having completed the magic inscription ritual, I should be qualified to become a 'Stream-level' spellcaster. However, my understanding of magic is far too shallow. The magic power within my body is simply insufficient to support the release of that spell. Moreover, I lack a general understanding of its specific destructive power and effects... Therefore, so far, so-called magic is just a knife that I cannot precisely control."

While they were thinking, Hugh and Putrin stopped in front of the tavern. Looking at the customers coming and going, Hugh let out a long sigh of relief.

"The road ahead is long..."

(End of this chapter)