I am a mage, with an infinite mana bar!

Four days later, in the morning, Lynn received a message from the Magic Association that Barton wanted him to come over.

Lynn's spirits lifted immediately, and sure enough, after exchanging pleasantries with the old man, he received the spellbook of [Day and Night Unknown].

It was a thin parchment notebook with a few pages, and the words "day and night unknown" were written on the cover in neat handwriting.

This is much simpler than any magic book I've ever seen before... Lynn muttered to himself.

But the most important thing about a magic book is its content. The appearance of the book and the material of the paper are more like a kind of ritual, providing a medium for recording spirituality.

"After you've finished your studies, remember to come back to me. I will conduct the entrance exam for you as a mage," the old man Barton said with a smile.

Lynn sincerely thanked the old man, bid him farewell, and as soon as he returned to his room at the Iris Inn, he couldn't wait to take out his magic book and begin studying it.

The first few pages of the "Day and Night Unknown" spellbook seem unremarkable at first glance; they simply record Old Man Barton's experiences and insights on learning and using this spell.

But Lynn watched it with utmost seriousness.

"Day and Night Illusion" is a second-circle mental magic spell that confuses the target's perception of light, making it impossible for them to properly identify the weather and time.

This type of magic requires a high level of mental strength from the learner; if it is insufficient, even if the knowledge is learned with difficulty, the spell will often fail to be cast.

Lynn read that Barton had once used "Day and Night" to successfully control an ogre during a battle that took place at night, making it mistakenly believe that it was daylight and that it was being exposed to sunlight, and it actually turned to stone.

This is the weakness of ogres and similar monsters. Like vampires, they fear sunlight, but unlike vampires, they only turn into indestructible stone statues under sunlight and revive when night falls.

"The difficulty lies in the fact that ogres generally lack the intelligence to be affected by mental magic, so I had to trick them into drinking intelligence potions beforehand..."

"You can do it like that?" Lynn couldn't help but marvel at the ingenuity of magic, realizing that its application was far more flexible than he had imagined.

When you turn to the next page, the neat, aged handwriting on the parchment suddenly becomes distorted and difficult to decipher.

At the same time, Lynn's spirituality was also stirred, and he felt that the things recorded on the paper were full of mystery, which deeply attracted him.

This was the real knowledge about the second-circle spell "Day and Night Illusion"... Lynn immediately understood.

Because of the groundwork laid earlier, he had a basic understanding of "day and night not being distinct," so reading it was not as difficult as he had expected.

But when I looked up again, it was already dark.

Lynn then realized that she had been sitting at her desk all day and had even forgotten to eat lunch.

His stomach was growling with hunger, so he quickly went downstairs and ate a few bites. Feeling mentally exhausted, he decided not to continue studying into the night.

Continuing to study magic now would be too ineffective, and what if my body couldn't handle it if I got too engrossed in it again?

There are real cases of people becoming so engrossed in studying magical knowledge that they die suddenly at their desks!

Despite her overwhelming curiosity and thirst for knowledge, Lynn forced herself to go for a walk for an hour before returning to wash up and rest.

It was still early, so he casually picked up a book he hadn't read much from his desk, intending to use it as a way to relax and kill time.

A compilation of legends about witches from various places?

Lynn opened the book with a strange expression, its cover flamboyant, suspecting that there might be some odd contents inside.

As he expected, although the book contained a wide variety of content, the descriptions were all quite explicit.

Lynn smirked as he read a few of the stories, which were mostly erotic tales with a slightly creepy atmosphere, like "a scantily clad, sexy woman knocks on the door late at night, and after a night of pleasure, the man's body rots and he dies mysteriously."

One of them looked somewhat interesting; the content was roughly as follows—

An unnamed witch hollowed out a mountain peak to build a stone pot, using the life force of the entire mountain to brew a magic potion.

She ordered the young foreign child to watch the medicine pot, but while she slept, the child could not resist the temptation and dipped his finger in a drop of the medicine.

Then, he subconsciously put his fingers in his mouth, and in that instant, all the knowledge, wisdom, and inspiration in the world flooded into his mind.

The story ends abruptly, with no sequel.

Lynn was inexplicably interested, especially in the magical potion, which was just like the legendary "panacea"!

He continued flipping through the pages and discovered that the story's style suddenly shifted, becoming a serious narrative.

It seems this book really does excerpt articles from different authors, but the authors' preferences are quite obvious...

Lynn paid a slightly more attention to this article, which was quite different from the rest of the book.

This article is quite long, and its main subject is a witch named "Ariandene," whom the book refers to as "the embodiment of delusion" and "the ruler of dreams."

Legend has it that she was born from people's earliest dreams. She is lively and likes to appear in people's dreams often, chatting and playing with them, confiding her secrets, and often using the power of dreams to help them solve their problems, and even imparting ancient magical knowledge.

Ancient magical knowledge? Lynn sat up a little straighter; he suddenly perked up when this was mentioned.

"Ariandine does not come when summoned by anyone. She acts only on a whim. She is one of the most active and friendly witches, but in recent years, rumors about her have almost disappeared."

I only heard about it by chance; her disappearance seems to be related to the mysterious creator of the Tower of True Blue…”

Lynn blinked and read the sentence again uncertainly.

Something's not right... He frowned. Can something like this really be written into a popular book?

This is a secret about the bigwigs of Blue Tower. Even if it's not true, do you think they wouldn't care about something that affects Blue Tower's reputation?

However, he quickly realized that given the book's vulgarity, it was probably not some kind of "popular book" that could be found everywhere...

Because the original owner was short of money, he always had the habit of buying books from secondhand bookstores. This book was one he had bought not long ago, along with several magic books.

Thinking of this, Lynn didn't dwell on it too much and simply silently noted down the story she had just read.

Whether it's true or false, these things are still too far removed from his current reality.

After reading a few more erotic novels, Lynn's mind gradually went blank. Just as she was about to stop reading for the day, her fingers, which were turning the pages, suddenly froze.

He noticed something odd about this page; it was thicker, as if two pages had been glued together.

The parchment was opaque, so he carefully found the gap and tore the two pages apart little by little.

His eyes widened immediately.

Between the torn brown pages, there was a thick layer of dark red, almost dripping color!

If you smell it carefully, you can also detect a faint rusty smell.

Startled, Lynn slammed the book shut and threw it onto the corner of the table.

But the scene he had just seen was already clearly imprinted in his mind.

Out of habit, his brain continued to automatically interpret what he had just seen.

He quickly arrived at the answer: layers upon layers of writing, as if smeared countless times with blood, and all the writing outlined the same word—

"Elliot, Elliot, Elliot, Elliot..."