Diary of a Dead Wizard-Chapter 202: Half a Page

For the second time, Saul used the method Morden had taught him to forcefully open the basement door.

The magic formation layered on the door immediately gave off a ripple of magic. The ripple surged from weak to strong, then faded again, until finally, the formation lost all effect.

The formation that had protected the Ralph Estate for decades now passed into history, along with its original master.

Saul reached out and, with a slight effort, pried the door fully open.

A swirl of yellow and white smoke burst out from within.

Saul waved a hand to clear it. He had planned to wait until the smoke dispersed before entering but then noticed cracks forming on the basement walls.

Without the protective magic, this long-abused basement was finally reaching its end.

The smoke itself wasn’t particularly toxic—just reeking of oil and grease, enough to kill anyone’s appetite for days.

Saul jumped down the entrance and landed with a splat in some sticky substance.

The staircase formed of young girls’ arms had vanished—likely devoured by the dying, struggling worm with a human face. It hadn’t wasted any opportunity to replenish its energy, treating those decorations as emergency rations.

“Ugh!” The air inside was even thicker than at the entrance. Covering his nose and mouth with a sleeve, Saul carefully stepped over to a clean spot.

He arrived at the formation he had prepared in advance to extract vengeful spirit and narrowed his eyes at the broken form of Ralph, no longer worm-like, collapsed at its center.

From the puddle of yellow grease within the formation, Saul could just faintly make out Ralph’s twisted face.

The arms that had once grown from his body were nowhere to be seen.

Saul scanned the remains with his mental energy. There was no mental fluctuation, no magical ripple.

No trace of life.

“Finally dead? He took a hit from a Flame Pearl and got dosed with a targeted antidote, yet he still held on this long. No wonder the diary said facing the big bug was certain death.”

He squatted down and placed a magic crystal at the edge of the formation.

In an instant, the formation flared to life, as though injected with a soul, igniting with a ring of white fire.

The flames spread across the ground like flowing water, gradually filling the entire formation and covering the grease.

But as the white flames continued to burn, Saul’s brows furrowed deeper and deeper.

Nothing else happened.

“That’s… too clean, isn’t it?”

There was no sign of Ralph’s soul. Even the souls of the ordinary people he had devoured were nowhere to be found.

It might be understandable if Ralph's soul didn't appear. He was strong-willed, and the small formation might be insufficient, but how could even the mercenaries’ souls be missing?

The white fire had no prey to consume. Once the magic crystal’s energy was depleted, the fire began to sputter out.

In the end, the formation dimmed under Saul’s helpless gaze.

“Phew… I was prepared for this, but it’s still disappointing.”

He exhaled. It had all been for nothing—just another failed experiment.

But just as Saul turned to leave before the basement collapsed completely, a streak of black light suddenly shot from a toppled shelf and flew straight into the diary on his left shoulder.

“What?” Saul was stunned.

He had gone to all that trouble setting up a large formation, using up a magic crystal, yet got no reaction—only to accidentally snag a soul remnant off a shelf?

The diary, aware of Saul’s thoughts, floated in front of him and opened.

But this time, the black page it revealed was incomplete, only half a sheet.

“Previous black pages were always jagged and looked much rougher than the white ones. Now I’m getting half pages? What’s next, quarter pages? Are we playing Puzzle Piece Simulator?”

Saul complained with a groan.

It wasn’t the time to ask questions. With dust already falling from above, he knew he had to get out.

Then came another surprise.

Just as Saul reached the base of the basement entrance, a strange noise rang out from above the formation that had been quiet until now.

Instinctively, Saul turned and saw a massive, grotesque spirit floating above the formation.

The soul looked like a giant mass of foam formed by countless tiny bubbles, being kneaded and squeezed by invisible hands, constantly squirming.

It made squelching, bubbling sounds as it moved.

From the foamy mass, a disfigured soul emerged, its face missing most of its features.

With a horrified expression, it opened its mouth at Saul, as if to say something, ut was yanked back by an irresistible force.

Saul clearly saw the soul’s terror as it was absorbed, squeezed, and broken down into tiny bubbles by the larger foam.

“What the hell is that? Could Ralph’s soul have mutated from contamination?”

If that grotesque thing really was Ralph’s soul, then trying to absorb it into the diary was off the table.

In its current state, it had clearly lost all reason, utterly corrupted.

“Diary, can I try attacking that thing?”

Diary: Be my guest. Go die.

“…Fair enough.” Saul immediately gave up.

He looked up at the three-meter-high exit, hoping Little Algae would lift him out.

But just as Little Algae emerged, the once-stable corrupted soul behind Saul began to convulse violently, like water about to boil.

Countless wails and cries for help suddenly filled Saul’s ears, then began flooding into his mind.

It was like being punched in the brain by an invisible fist. Saul stumbled backward, completely disoriented.

The cries in his head shifted again, turning into thousands of voices speaking at once.

Buzz… buzz… buzz…

Some were rational, some deranged, some sorrowful… Saul couldn’t make out their words, but he could clearly feel their emotions.

Yes—every single one of them.

BUZZ—

A violent tremor surged through him as the necklace embedded in his chest began to vibrate at a high frequency.

It was as if something inside Saul was banging on a locked door, trying to smash it open.

Crack—

The puppet on his chest split open from the top, revealing the tiny flame sealed within.

The voices in his head suddenly grew quieter. Most went silent, only a few still muttering.

He knew the emergency locator had bought him time. Without a second thought, Saul turned and ran.

Little Algae shot forward like a grappling hook, latching onto the outer wall and transforming into a rope to pull Saul out of the basement.

As soon as he landed, Saul felt the ground beneath him start to collapse, spreading outward from the entrance.

He sprinted at full speed.

The diary hadn’t warned him that staying would be fatal, but Saul wasn’t going to risk it.

The staircase was already a mess, with the steps shattered into a small mountain of rubble.

Little Algae surged forward and coiled around the second-floor railing.

As Saul was pulled up midair, he quickly glanced over the wreckage.

The staircase where Victor had been was now a deep pit, with no blood or limbs in sight. He couldn’t tell whether Victor was alive or dead.

Meanwhile, Clawn’s corpse and what was left of Swan—only his upper body—had vanished. Perhaps Ralph had eaten them too.

With Little Algae’s help, Saul darted between beams and walls, racing against time. At last, he leapt onto the second floor just before the ground floor began sinking.

BOOM—

A thunderous crash echoed behind him. Saul staggered, nearly losing his balance.

The moment the crash landed, the whispering voices in his head grew louder again. The puppet on his chest cracked further, and the tiny flame inside began to dim.

Clutching the puppet tightly, Saul ran unsteadily through the corridor.

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Little Algae led the way, smashing through the balcony window ahead. Saul ducked low and dove into the wind and rain.

Cold rain lashed his face and body. Cracks spread across the balcony behind him while the earth continued to sink in the distance.

In the final moment, Saul stepped onto the railing and leapt.

BOOM!

Another deafening explosion.

The castle behind him caved in, dropping an entire level.

The collapse unleashed a powerful shockwave that slammed into Saul’s back, pelting him with flying debris.

In midair, Little Algae flailed its tendrils desperately, finally hooking a tree branch just before Saul hit the ground.

He twisted in midair and managed to land on his feet. With Little Algae giving him a final upward tug, he pulled off a safe landing.

He tucked into a roll to absorb the impact.

Then—crack—a clear snapping sound pierced through all the noise and struck deep into Saul’s core.

Startled, he looked down.

The puppet bound to him by the black string had shattered completely, its fragments tumbling off his skin—some even falling out of his collar.

Only a single wooden thorn remained, lodged in his chest.

(End of Chapter)