Sorcerer’s Handbook

Chapter 303: Eliminating the Wrong Option

Despite the lingering doubts about Ashe, the atmosphere inside the cabin had undoubtedly become much more relaxed; there was no drawing of swords or suspicious glances at one another.

They all agreed on at least one thing: their connections were undoubtedly deep, which was why they had ended up together in this amnesia-stricken cabin.

Whether they were friends, lovers, or relatives, those details were minor.

Given more time, they could have untangled the situation themselves, but the negative effects of amnesia were too overwhelming: suddenly finding yourself in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strangers, with no one to rely on, and not even remembering your own name, as if an infant thrown onto the streets, utterly alone and facing the harsh reality, where even the air seemed to suffocate you.

Unlike an infant, whose only response might be to cry, Sorcerers still had violence not yet erased from their repertoire.

In the cabin’s solo mode, most Sorcerers, panicked, would attack Phantoms, but Phantoms could not be destroyed, and the Sorcerers could gain some sense of security through venting their violence.

Even if they couldn’t calm down, they at least could recognize their situation and choose whether to leave or engage with the game.

But multiplayer mode was different—wasn’t it better to direct their violence toward the ‘strangers’ they didn’t recognize instead of their own Phantoms?

It was almost expected when Ashe and Sonya drew their swords against each other. Given Sonya’s fierce temperament and high guard, if Ashe had been equally hot-headed, a fight would have been nearly inevitable. Fortunately, Danzel’s entrance interrupted their round of Battle, and then the arrival of the Phantoms diverted their attention.

Yet, their relationship crisis was far from resolved, because the cabin was simply too small. If they were to engage in a question-and-answer game, the other occupants would inevitably be present.

Their rational strings were stretched too tight to continue bearing “the gaze of others.” As long as the others were present, they couldn’t proceed with the game.

The Phantoms had no contingency for such situations. They knew how to guide and soothe Sorcerers, but there was no mechanism within the cabin to mediate conflicts between them.

However, there was no need for Phantoms to resolve conflicts either.

The Phantoms were soothing the Sorcerers simply to facilitate the question-and-answer game. If the situation continued to deteriorate, it was highly likely that only one of the four would remain in the cabin, the others either driven out or eliminated.

Though the number of participants was reduced, as long as there was someone left in the cabin, the question-and-answer game could continue.

The last person remaining could answer questions for all four individuals, and if they could correctly answer the others’ questions, they could naturally claim the others’ rewards.

Therefore, when Ashe and his companions began discussing their relationships, the Phantoms did not intervene or disturb them. They had expected a brutal free-for-all to ensue, but surprisingly, Ashe managed to unite everyone, including Danzel who arrived later… The Observer, Swordswoman, and Witch quickly glanced at the Empress, who looked back at them calmly.

“It sounds like you’ve reached a consensus,” said the Observer. “Are you interested in answering some questions now?”

“Wait, you just said you have our memories,” Sonya suddenly remembered something. “Can you tell us what our relationship is?”

“We cannot,” the Witch said, shaking her finger. “We cannot reveal any specific information to you; you must answer questions in a state of complete amnesia.”

Ashe then said, “Aside from revealing information, if I ask you to do something, would you agree?”

“What would that be?”

“For instance, you,” Ashe pointed at the Observer and then at the Swordswoman, “go kiss her, and make it a French kiss.”

The faces of the Observer and Swordswoman showed no change, not even a flicker of their eyelashes. However, for some reason, everyone felt as if the light in the cabin had dimmed slightly.

Before the Phantoms could respond, Sonya grabbed Ashe by the collar, her face flushed with anger, and said, “What are you talking about?!”

“Think about it, they are Phantoms with our memories, right? They can communicate and seem to have the ability to think, which means we can consider them as ‘another self’,” Ashe explained calmly. “If the Observer and the Swordswoman can kiss naturally, that would mean we are in a romantic relationship.”

“What if they don’t want to?”

“Then we lower the level of probing, from kissing to hugging. If hugging is okay, then we definitely have a close relationship similar to that of relatives,” Ashe explained. “Using this method, we can gradually test the depth of everyone’s relationships.”

Sonya paused, considering the feasibility of Ashe’s method.

Ashe took Sonya’s hands off his collar and held them gently. “Although I haven’t been making a fuss or losing my temper, I’ve also lost my memory. You’re scared, and I’m just as uneasy. It’s not just you—I also want to find evidence that can prove our relationship.”

“I want to trust you all unreservedly,” he whispered. “In a dark world, nothing is more comforting than placing your hand in someone else’s.”

At that moment, the Phantoms seemed to finally grasp the command embedded in Ashe’s words.

The Observer waved a hand and shook his head, doubly denying Ashe’s request: “No, we’re only here to guide you through the questions. We won’t fulfill requests that go beyond answering them.”

“But this is a request related to the questions!” Ashe immediately said. “I think it’s absolutely necessary for you to kiss the Swordswoman—”

“Even though we are just temporary Phantoms, we also possess a certain level of intelligence,” the Swordswoman said calmly. “Don’t try to persuade us with your words. We fully understand that you’re trying to use our interactions to gain memory information, and that’s not allowed. Give it up.”

Seeing the Phantoms refuse, Sonya felt a bit dissatisfied: “Can’t you make an exception? After all, you are me…”

“If you yourself became a fleeting thought, would you satisfy someone else’s wishes?” the Swordswoman retorted with a cold laugh. “You should be glad I’m not really you—otherwise, you’d be in even more trouble.”

Sonya thought about her own personality and reluctantly shut her mouth.

“So it means we can’t find evidence to confirm our relationships,” Ashe said. “Then let’s tentatively assume you all are my lovers or paramours. Or would you prefer to be my sisters?”

Deya timidly said, “Sisters.”

“Why does it have to be one or the other?” Sonya interjected. “Is not choosing not an option?”

“Because this lays the foundation for our answer during the quiz,” Ashe explained earnestly. “Let me put it this way: if you all are my lovers or paramours, then it implies that you are willing to share your love, which extends into three logical conditions: First, our relationship isn’t equal; I’m in a dominant position, which might be due to individual strength or social status. Second, there are significant interests and bonds tying us together, making it rational for you not to leave me. Third, we might have gone through a lot together, so emotionally, you’re unwilling to let go.”

“If these three conditions aren’t met, then our relationship as lovers can’t be explained. These conditions can serve as a basis for your answers and help you make decisions. Similarly, if you were my sisters, other logical conditions would apply.”

“I’m not trying to take advantage of you, but with complete memory loss, this reasoning is the only lifeline we can cling to.”

Sonya’s face flushed between red and white, feeling a mix of inferiority and shame surge through her as she saw how reasoned Ashe’s argument was and realized her own previous irrational behavior. “Who knows what you’re really thinking!”

“If I have to choose,” Danzel, who had been silent, suddenly spoke up, “I’ll choose paramour.”

Sonya looked at her in surprise. “Why?”

“No particular reason,” Danzel replied calmly. “I just feel that the word ‘sister’ is a bit too distant for me.”

Ashe turned to Sonya, “What’s your choice? Remember, this is just for the purpose of answering the quiz and doesn’t define our real relationship—if you don’t like these options, you can propose a new identity. Just as long as it explains why we’re together.”

Sonya did not respond immediately. She looked down at the pattern lines in the wooden floor, her left hand holding her right, appearing hesitant.

If Danzel had chosen the identity of a sister, Sonya would definitely have picked sister too.

However, after Danzel chose the role of a paramour, Sonya felt oddly uncomfortable.

Despite remembering nothing, not knowing who anyone really was, and feeling only caution and suspicion, there was an inexplicable sense of defeat within her.

This feeling of defeat was not directed outward as anger, but inward as self-reproach. It seemed as if by maintaining her tough, hedgehog-like demeanor, she was losing something or, perhaps, missing out on something.

Sonya glanced sideways at the Swordswoman, who was scrutinizing her with an indifferent gaze that betrayed a complexity of emotions no one could decipher.

“…Lover.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not real anyway.” Sonya, in a moment of resignation, picked a chair and sat down: “Let’s answer the quiz!”

“One identity each, sister, paramour, lover,” Ashe declared. “Let’s call each other that for now.”

Deya tugged at Ashe’s sleeve, “What about you?”

Ashe paused, then smiled, “I actually forgot about myself… However, since I assigned your identities, it’s only fair that you choose mine. What do you want me to be?”

Sonya replied sarcastically, “Our slave.”

Danzel thought for a moment, “Our master?”

Deya hesitated, her eyes catching a painting on the cabin wall, depicting a Knight protecting a Princess from an Evil Dragon. She then said, “I wish you were… a Knight protecting us.”

“Alright, I’ll be the Knight,” Ashe decided cheerfully. “It seems continuing this discussion won’t reveal any new information, so—”

“Let’s start the quiz.”

Ashe sat down on a bench with Deya, while Danzel moved to sit next to Sonya.

The four exchanged looks, and Ashe asked, “Who wants to go first?”

The question was almost like asking which oil drum wanted to volunteer as a firefighter. Deya immediately shook her head, and Danzel fell silent. Just as Ashe was about to raise his hand, a sharp slap on the table echoed next to him.

“I’ll go first.”

The determination in her bell-like voice was clear.

Sonya stared intently at the Swordswoman, her eyes alight with a mixture of bravery, insecurity, and defiance. Unfortunately, the only person in the cabin who could fully understand her was sitting right across from her.

“So eager to prove yourself?” the Swordswoman lowered her eyelids, “As you wish.”

“Now, begin with your first question.”

The Swordswoman stood up and pulled a sketchbook from a shelf nearby—no one could remember if there had been a sketchbook there before, or even if the shelf had been there at all.

“Among these three people, who do you love the most?”

The Swordswoman opened the sketchbook, revealing three images:

A plainly dressed middle-aged farmwoman;

A small, dark-skinned girl who didn’t look particularly lovable;

And… a Hooded Man sitting in a Boat.

“First, let’s eliminate this incorrect option,” Ashe pointed at the image of the Hooded Man.