Chapter 143
Chapter 143
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 143
Chapter Title: Chapter 143
-----------------------------------------------------------------
```html
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 143
Chapter Title: Initiation
-----------------------------------------------------------------
"...And so, Envers decided to give it a try. Some are calling it dimensional magic, others illusion magic—Professor's spell."
"Hmm... What does he think about it?"
"Envers? Who knows. He seemed skeptical... Anyway, what should I give him?"
In response to Selbia's question, Niore reflected on her past experiences. She pondered what advice to offer. Listen carefully to the mad wizard's words? Protect the people dear to you so your heart doesn't break...?
No, it might be better to just believe everything is fake. He seemed like the type with a fragile mentality from the start.
This time, it was just him going in alone, from what she'd heard. No one around to pick him up if his mind shattered. So, convincing himself it was all illusion magic to shield his psyche wasn't a bad strategy.
So, what tips should she pass along?
What was the most essential skill for an outsider dropped into another world where eras, buildings, backgrounds, and common sense were all different? Niore had her answer.
Utility items.
If you couldn't predict what trials and hardships awaited, you needed at least one ability to wriggle out of any pinch. Therefore...
—Something simple, like an artifact. How about a flashlight or a lighter?
"A flashlight or lighter? What's that?"
—Ah, you know... a small light emitter or a tiny flame generator. Envers isn't a mage, so he'll face a lot of inconveniences. I think he needs tools to cover what he can't do himself.
"True enough..."
Niore's advice made sense. Selbia nodded, mentally scrolling through the artifacts she could craft.
• Small igniter and short wand emitting conical light
• Scroll to dry clothes and potion boosting fire resistance
• Scroll spewing black smoke
• Massive explosion scroll
"I'll make one of each. Thanks, Niore. That helps."
—No problem. But Selbia... are you interested in Envers?
"Not at all. Like I said before, I already have someone I like."
—Your childhood friend...?
Selbia nodded. Envers was miles away from her ideal type anyway, and even if he were closer, she wouldn't entertain those thoughts.
No matter if a boulder rolled down from the hill, you couldn't dislodge a welded, embedded stone.
"I'd only start looking for new love if my childhood friend died or rejected me. Until then, no room for anyone else... and besides."
It didn't seem likely anyway.
Niore blinked slowly, signaling she understood perfectly. Then she loaded up some advice for Selbia.
She'd heard about this childhood friend five times already. Unless Selbia's lovesick haze was distorting her memories, he must be quite the catch.
If he was alive somewhere in this world, the odds of women swarming him were sky-high.
That put Selbia in the position of a latecomer jumping into the romance battlefield—tougher than even Niore competing with Tara.
The disadvantaged couldn't just play defense; they'd get crushed.
The more cornered you were, the more aggressively you had to strike to find an opening. Just like how Niore had mustered her courage and flung flirty lines everywhere.
Niore pulled out a lewd scrap of fabric from her wardrobe.
—Selbia, want to try this on?
"Out of nowhere? Uh... wh-what is this thing?"
Selbia failed her sanity check upon glimpsing the indescribable undergarment. Judging by its shape, it seemed like some kind of lower-body covering, but it was far removed from any functional garment she knew.
Why tell her to try this on suddenly? As Selbia flailed in confusion, Niore sent a gentle telepathic whisper.
"W-weapons...?"
—If you can strive as hard as you love someone... Selbia, how far are you willing to go?
"...!!"
How far could she go? Did she have the passion to seize love, casting aside shame and pride? At Niore's whisper, Selbia lightly gripped the indescribable undergarment.
She drew her demon sword...!
In the secluded chamber of the closed Tower of Trials, the beggar and Envers met again in a mountain clearing. Envers would soon depart for the martial world, so the beggar intended to share info to spare him any mishaps.
Language issues would be handled by the curse-using mage, but even with communication, life as a foreigner in the Central Plains wasn't easy.
Still, leveraging his old ties and intel from his days as Beggars' Sect Leader should see him through smartly. The beggar sat on a tree stump.
"Are you prepared to leave?"
"Yes. My friends kindly packed me all sorts of things..."
Envers unpacked his bundle, laying out items on the ground.
Selbia's fireworks set. High attack power.
Luna's food pouch. Great value.
Even if sorcery dumped him in some remote wilds, these would buy time until he found people. The beggar nodded slowly.
Then he shared the following intel with Envers.
• How to find Beggars' Sect branches (look for beggars with knots on their belts)
• Cave at the bottom of Heavenly Mirror Lake (spirit herbs inside / guarded by serpent)
Finally, the beggar gazed at Envers and spoke.
"I've already passed the Beggars' Sect martial arts to you, so today I have a small request."
"Please, go ahead."
"I have unfinished duties."
A strange emotion flickered across the beggar's wrinkled face.
A trace of regret, reluctance.
He had no regrets sacrificing for peace in the martial world. The Heavenly Demon and his Demonic Cult forces were formidable; without staking his life, they couldn't be repelled.
Driving out their leader, the Heavenly Demon, had cost his life cheaply. The man was a monster who, given more time, would have gripped the world in his fist.
But one thing lingered as remorse: severing the Beggars' Sect's martial lineage.
The sect leader's signature Dog-Beating Staff Technique had vanished with him. Trapped in this otherworld via dimensional rift, he left no manual or corpse behind in the living realm.
Martial arts flow naturally like rivers through eras, yet he'd dammed the stream himself. How the future sect disciples must grieve.
Thus, the beggar made this plea to Envers.
"Time-space is profound beyond mortal ken. I know not how many years have passed in the Central Plains."
"......"
"But if the group of beggars calling themselves the Beggars' Sect still endures, return the Dog-Beating Staff Technique to them. It shouldn't end with me— it must flow through the sect."
"...I will definitely fulfill it!"
Envers replied resolutely. He didn't fully grasp the value of martial arts handed down through generations in a sect.
He'd never been born into a deep-rooted clan, never inherited a grand legacy across ages.
Yet the beggar's regret tugged at him, and reciprocity for the teachings demanded he uphold this bond.
Flowing with History: Return the Dog-Beating Staff Technique to the Beggars' Sect Disciples
Envers Redburn, descending the mountain.
His fists clenched unconsciously, steps heavy.
Trembling.
Dropping alone into the martial world, rife with tangled martial arts and heroes—trials surely awaited. Yet gains would match.
Envers touched his lips. The moon's promise infused him with strength.
Like the Tower of Trials, the mad wizard assured his life was safe, with returns every fortnight.
Excitement outweighed fear.
As tense Envers stepped toward the magic circle, the mad wizard addressed him casually.
"Do you believe in fate?"
"...What do you mean?"
With that abrupt opener, the mad wizard vaguely warned of Envers's future.
"Fate has 'pull.' That brief moment you met the Heavenly Demon, your threads of destiny intertwined—not too deep, not too shallow. You'll be drawn together."
"...Meaning?"
"Depending on your choices, you'll face the Heavenly Demon's legacy. Even if your skills fall short, good allies could reach it."
The mad wizard pressed his index finger to his lips—signaling secrecy and silence. He continued.
"So, if I may advise—unearthing secrets is always a hard path, like the Tower of Trials."
"......"
"Some secrets are like sleeping bears—safer left undisturbed."
Have a good time.
With that, the mad wizard glanced at Envers.
The Wuxia Session curtain rose.
Amid throngs honing martial prowess, he'd rarely encounter true heroes. Choices thereafter were his.
Demonic Cult route, Orthodox route, Evil route—endings converged, but meanings diverged.
One tweak to the original plan: the heroine.
I'd meant to give Envers a mentor-big-sis type who attacked twice with piercing strikes. But I saw it.
Witnessed Luna's heroine moves with my own eyes.
Not just me—the trio saw it. The lab flipped that night. Yuna shrieked in near-death glee, Pinkvalres couldn't hold back and copied my finger-kiss on me.
Yuna must've jabbed my lips dozens of times after. Seductive means teasing buildup, not volume overwhelming into lip destruction over kisses.
Still, her jealousy was cute. Not world-burning, us-bisecting rage, but 'why do you get two candies?' vibes.
Knowing it's playful lets us frolic together.
But sometimes I wonder: what if we edged just a tad closer than jokes?
Anyway.
To prevent unwitting NTR for Luna, I scrapped the heroine plan. Focused more on wuxia instead.
Poke all clichés. Fortuitous encounters, enlightenments, chance entanglements, cliff falls to caves, lost in suspicious mountains to manuals.
And inns stocked with carbonara for Western tastes...
"?"
"Why are you staring like that, Tower Master?"
"What did you just say?"
"Uh, stocking inns with carbonara..."
No, why? In my pre-death world, that was authentic wuxia. And here, no one knows wuxia anyway.
So what I say is wuxia. Swap bamboo leaf tea and noodles for trendy fare, ensuring players' culinary joy...
Huuuuh.
Yuna inhaled like devouring the world's air, drawing voice from her dantian for a lion's roar.
"Gah—!!!"
"...!!"
"Fix your historical accuracy or die...!!"
I'd never seen Yuna this vehement. Then it hit me: her top reads were romance, but second was wuxia.
Yuna Violetiris was a wuxia fanatic.
```