Diary of a Dead Wizard-Chapter 300: The Experiment Failed

Yura smiled and reached out her hand, but Gorsa didn’t take it. Instead, he bent down and directly picked her up in his arms.

She seemed quite pleased with this and chuckled, “Were you startled? Don’t worry, I’ve prepared plenty. That way, we can start the experiment without any hesitation.”

The way Yura looked at Gorsa was filled with joy.

But in the very next second, she eagerly jumped down from his arms and walked over to one of the long experiment tables.

“Of course, before we begin, we’ll need to prepare a lot of companion flowers. I borrowed some seeds from my sister, but for a bulk order, you’ll have to reach out to the Land Drifters.”

Yura picked up a sheet of paper from the table. From Saul’s current perspective, he couldn’t see what was written on it.

But he could clearly see Yura’s expression.

If, just a moment ago, her gaze as she looked at the Tower Master was dancing with delight, now, as she stared at the white paper in her hands, her eyes burned with a fierce fire.

Through her trembling hands, Saul could directly sense her fanaticism and excitement.

“We can begin very soon—”

However, Yura’s sentence was abruptly cut off halfway through.

Because the man behind her suddenly struck with his hand like a blade, slicing off half of her head.

Blood splattered across the entire experiment table as Yura’s body twitched and collapsed.

Gorsa, his face equally splashed with blood, gently held onto the upper half of her severed skull.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly let out a sigh.

“…The experiment failed.”

Saul was instantly gripped by a chill, unable to breathe.

In the next moment, black mist once again enveloped his vision.

But when the mist cleared, Saul realized he was still within the historical memory of Little Algae.

This was a different fragment of the past.

The same strange laboratory surrounded by black soil.

This time, Saul immediately noticed that Gorsa had grown even thinner. His hair was longer and more unkempt, as though quite some time had passed since the last memory.

He walked to the center platform and leaned down to lift a woman from a rectangular groove.

It was Yura’s corpse, missing half her head.

She was no longer bleeding, but the muscle tissue at the point of separation still looked fresh.

Gorsa gently placed her on the now-empty experiment table.

First, he tenderly removed the clothes from the corpse, revealing her pale, graceful body.

Then, Gorsa raised his hand. Between his thumb and forefinger, a tiny blade, three centimeters long, quietly appeared.

It was an extremely sharp and thin blade. It trembled ever so slightly in sync with the twitching muscles of Gorsa’s hand.

Suddenly, the trembling stopped.

Gorsa leaned in once more, placing both his hand and the blade at the edge of Yura’s skull. Very carefully, very tenderly… he began to peel the skin.

Black mist shrouded the world once again. When Saul opened his eyes, he saw Little Algae wagging its tongue like a happy puppy. Across from him, a massive black tentacle swayed toward the ceiling, and a Devil Vine sat surrounded by dozens of writhing tendrils, looking somewhat aggrieved.

He had returned from the vision.

Perhaps because Little Algae’s level was far lower than that of the diary, Saul was able to see much more in its historical fragments using the last of his “History Watcher” ability.

He patted Little Algae’s head, letting it roam freely. Stretching out his arms, he worked out the stiffness in his limbs.

His gaze drifted through the air, thoughts spinning around what he had just witnessed.

“The Tower Master killed Lady Yura… and even peeled off her skin. These two scenes perfectly match what Yura told me.”

From that, it appeared that Yura had not lied.

But Saul still had doubts.

In the first memory, Yura had clearly said they were about to start an experiment. Yet Gorsa had cut off her head and claimed the experiment had failed.

What exactly was this experiment they spoke of?

And were they both referring to the same experiment?

Regardless of their individual positions, one thing Saul could be certain of—

The current Yura truly hated Gorsa.

But due to Gorsa’s overwhelming power, her hatred could only manifest in sarcastic complaints and her erratic temperament.

Still, what really lay between them wasn’t fully revealed in this piece of history.

Perhaps Gorsa had killed Yura, but based on the inconsistencies in their words and behavior, it was also possible… that something had gone wrong with Yura.

Saul pinched the bridge of his nose. A headache was setting in—not pathological, but physiological.

The world before his eyes was always fog wrapped in more fog. Every time he tried to uncover the truth, he found it hidden beneath yet another lie.

So what was the truth?

Saul wasn’t all that concerned with “who killed whom,” but it was clear that he had now been drawn into the eye of the storm. He was already Rank Three and about to officially join Gorsa’s research project.

He had to understand what it was he was meant to study—whether it might lead him straight to the guillotine.

Although the diary’s danger alerts had slowed from every few minutes to every few hours, or even days, he couldn’t always rely on it to guide him forward.

Especially after the appearance of Kismet, the sense of crisis had deepened.

So Saul had been working hard to strengthen his connection with the diary—exploring its abilities and integrating it with his own body modifications and primary magic.

“If one day, I lose the diary…” Saul paused mid-thought, then let out a carefree laugh. “Well, no point in thinking about that. With how tightly we’re bound now, if I lose the diary, I’ll die without a doubt. So there's no need to worry about it getting stolen.”

Having exhausted the last of his “History Watcher,” Saul committed all his unanswered questions to memory and returned to his studies.

Half a month passed in that same tense yet monotonous atmosphere.

During that time, Buri seemed intent on proving his innocence and came to visit Saul again.

Saul still met with him from behind the Devil Vine woven wall, exchanged a few words, but made no promises.

His answer?

“I’m just the temporary master—I don’t have the final say.”

And then this “temporary master” went right back to bullying the native resident, Devil Vine, alongside Little Algae.

Buri didn’t come again after that, finally giving Saul a bit of peace and quiet.

So when, half a month later, someone knocked on the door of Black Castle again, Saul didn’t immediately realize that it might be the new arrivals from the Wizard Tower.

At that moment, he was midway through calculating a formula and didn’t want to stop.

So he had Devil Vine check who was at the door. If it was Buri again, Saul planned to pretend he didn’t hear anything.

But Devil Vine’s report was that the visitors were indeed from the Wizard Tower.

A man and a woman had stepped down from a carriage.

Saul tossed his pen aside. “Finally, someone’s here.”

He turned toward the black tentacles cheerfully wriggling on the floor and said, “Little Algae, pack them all up.”

Little Algae, knowing they were about to return to the tower, obediently pulled all the tentacles back into its body.

The previously cramped underground space suddenly felt much more open.

Devil Vine cautiously stretched out its aerial roots, seemingly in disbelief that it had finally reclaimed its territory.

[It was a pleasure to accompany you during this time, Lord Saul.]

“Likewise,” Saul said, barely suppressing a grin.

He strode out of the underground chamber to the front gates of Black Castle.

Just in case, he didn’t open the door, or even remove the Devil Vine barrier inside.

“May I ask, who’s there?” Saul deliberately lowered his voice, making it sound tense and ominous.

“…”

“Your old buddy, you idiot!”

(End of Chapter)