Using a vine leaf from the Omen Mandrake Vine, Locke retrieved the documents laid out on the ground by the other party and brought them before him.
After flipping through a few pages with the vine, he realized this was likely the original manuscript of the Black Wizard Seflin. It even contained geometric diagrams composed of runes—Curse Magic formulas.
Without prerequisite courses such as Advanced Geometry, Fundamentals of Curse Studies, and Basic Curse Script, it would be impossible to fully comprehend this manuscript. Even Locke found it somewhat challenging at first glance.
This was understandable. His past knowledge had primarily revolved around Potionology Mastery, Breeding Studies, and plant-based magic, with only minor exposure to Necromancy and archaeology. His experience with Curse Magic was extremely limited.
Curse Magic demanded a high proficiency in advanced geometry, apparently because Curse Formulas involved extremely complex geometric folding techniques.
Locke stared coldly at the Black Wizard apprentice before him, contemplating how to handle the situation.
Having a Black Wizard apprentice as an inside informant might not be a bad idea—especially since this one was Seflin's junior, meaning he was likely a student of Seflin's Wizard Mentor. And that mentor happened to be the very target of Locke's own teacher, the White Wizard Sophia.
However, he also had to guard against the possibility of this apprentice being a double agent. Infiltrators often ended up serving both sides.
Locke weighed the pros and cons, considering the best way to deal with this Black Wizard apprentice.
Meanwhile, the apprentice knelt on the ground, under immense psychological pressure.
No matter how one looked at it, a Black Wizard openly appearing before a White Wizard—especially on the latter's turf, and with Locke being a First Class Wizard Apprentice—was an enormous risk.
If not for the fact that he had been chosen as cannon fodder to sow chaos in Lilith's Cottage after Seflin's fall from grace, he would never have resorted to such a desperate move.
If Locke deemed him worthless, he would still face death. If Locke harbored deep hatred for Black Wizards, he would still be killed.
His remaining intact left hand clenched into a fist, his palm slick with sweat.
At that moment, Locke's eyes faintly glowed with an arcane Spell radiance. Then, an intangible ghostly figure—a Grave Spirit—emerged above the Black Wizard apprentice's head.
Grave Spirits came in many forms, varying slightly depending on the caster's personality and habits.
This particular spirit, crowned with a tombstone, differed from the one McCarthy had summoned. It was semi-transparent—so much so that the Black Wizard apprentice didn't even notice its presence above him.
Locke gazed at him coldly. "Your name is Leoni Murphy. A week ago, you stole a portion of documents from Cabinet No. 432 in the Curse Warlock Institute's archives."
"Three days ago, you used a mortal circus entering this port city to conceal your identity and infiltrate. The only reason I didn't kill you immediately is that despite exploiting that wandering mortal circus, you didn't harm a single person in it."
"Am I correct?"
Leoni Murphy's body stiffened. He hadn't expected Locke to not only name him directly but also reveal his background—as if Locke had witnessed everything firsthand.
But how was that possible?
The fear and awe in Leoni Murphy's eyes deepened. If Locke could recount his actions from a week ago with such precision, then he stood completely exposed before Locke, devoid of any secrets.
Yet he couldn't comprehend how Locke had achieved this.
A Potionology Master and Breeder shouldn't possess interrogation skills of this caliber—especially since Locke hadn't even begun questioning him yet.
Noticing his unsettled expression, Locke smiled faintly but offered no explanation.
This was a clever application of an Archaeological Scholar's ability.
By utilizing the Archaeological Scholar's capacity to read Moduo Language through the target's Negative Energy Particle Field, Locke could glimpse recent events in the person's life.
Against a Second-Class Wizard Apprentice lacking Magic Pressure, his current proficiency allowed him to read about a week's worth of memories—though any encounters with Formal Wizards during that period would appear as gaps in the information.
Similarly, if he tried to examine the apprentice's interactions with First-Class Wizard Apprentices, the interference from their Magic Pressure Structures would make the Moduo Language far harder to decipher. At his current level, Locke could only grasp vague impressions.
Locke pointed. "You're carrying quite a number of Curses within you."
"That works in my favor. Open your mind completely. No matter what happens, you must not resist—or I'll kill you instantly."
Before Leoni Murphy could react, Locke snapped his fingers.
A translucent, intangible Grave Spirit attached itself to the Second-Class Wizard Apprentice, merging with the Negative Energy Particle Field surrounding him.
This was a minor application of the Archaeological Scholar's [Summon Graveyard Spirit]—essentially a form of spectral possession.
But it required the target's consent. The slightest resistance during the process would cause the possession to fail.
Once attached, the Grave Spirit would enter a latent state, nearly undetectable under normal circumstances.
At a critical moment, with careful activation, Locke could use this connection to observe the apprentice's surroundings and gather information through him.
If I can maneuver him back into that Curse Formula Research Institute, I'll have effectively planted a spy within their ranks using the Black Wizard's Archaeological Scholar spell system.
Locke mused, The Archaeological Scholar's magic among Black Wizards is truly remarkable. No wonder they hold such a unique status in Black Wizard territory.
Coldly, Locke addressed Leoni Murphy: "Very well. You'll serve as my informant. You are to relay crucial intelligence about the Blood Curse Court to me."
"Do not attempt to deceive me. All your information cannot escape my sight."
Leoni Murphy had been completely subdued by the profound and unfathomable Locke before him. He immediately knelt on the ground, instinctively addressing Locke with the honorific reserved for superiors among Black Wizards. "Master, I would never betray you. I can be very useful."
Leoni Murphy likely genuinely believed Locke possessed the ability to see through all his secrets and was undoubtedly terrified at this moment.
But in truth, Locke had merely read fragments of his past week's most personally significant moments through the Moduo Language.
Moreover, some fragments remained unclear due to various external interferences.
For instance, Locke couldn't discern the approximate location of the Curse Formula Research Institute from his recent experiences—not even nearby area information was visible, as this portion was severely obscured by some magical force.
Observing partial memory fragments through the Negative Energy Particle Field surrounding him, Locke remarked, "Hmm? You wish to exchange residual Magic Plant Curse research for potions that could enhance your cultivation efficiency? You want Contemplation Balm?"
"Very well. I'll give you fifteen vials of Contemplation Balm."
"This is a three-month supply."
Leoni Murphy's eyes instantly lit up with astonishment and overwhelming joy. "Thank you, Master."
As he accepted the fifteen vials, his expression revealed ecstatic delight. To Locke, these resources were merely leftover experimental materials from previous Memory Ointment production—useless remnants. But to Leoni, they represented a windfall.
At this moment, Leoni felt slightly more at ease, convinced he had gambled correctly.
His earlier concerns about the strange entity Locke had implanted within him naturally vanished without a trace—now utterly insignificant.
After all, plenty of others had placed various things inside him before.
Such was the tradition among Black Wizards.
Locke looked at him and asked, "Leoni, do you have any means to return to the Blood Curse Court?"
"Reading your memories is far too troublesome. Just tell me yourself."
Locke blended truth with deception, deliberately misdirecting his information-gathering ability toward memory reading—a false trail.
Potionology Masters did indeed possess truth serums and similar potions that could forcibly extract memories.
This strategic misdirection would effectively prevent Leoni from devising peculiar methods to interfere with the Grave Spirit Locke had left within him.
Though a Second-Class Wizard Apprentice like Leoni stood little chance of resisting his Summon Graveyard Spirit, it was still prudent to casually mislead him—just in case.
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