Saul picked up a pair of long black gloves from the morgue's worktable.
These gloves were custom-made—snug against the skin and extrely thin, so much so that they didn’t create a noticeable barrier when handling objects.
They were also dirt- and water-resistant and not easily flammable—well worth the custom price.
Most importantly, they didn’t interfere with spellcasting.
The only downside: they were a pain to put on.
That’s just how it is with these super form-fitting gloves.
Saul started with his left hand.
The interior was stiff and tacky, making it difficult to pull on smoothly.
Just then, a thin black tendril extended from behind Saul’s neck, deftly helping tug open the edge of the glove and assist in getting it on properly.
“Thanks, Little Algae.”
This eerie-looking tentacle was actually a piece of the Soul-Devouring Mire that Saul had inadvertently brought back from the abandoned lab beneath the Witch Tower’s garden.
After several rounds of examination and research, Saul had mostly confird that this little tendril wasn’t particularly dangerous.
Especially since it could be yanked clean off his neck with a little force—making a soft “pop”—without leaving a single wound.
Clearly, it wasn’t parasitic.
Once the glove was on, Little Algae obediently retracted.
Saul had nad the tentacle “Little Algae” because it didn’t resemble the massive, aggressive black tendrils from the swamp. Instead, it was more like that cluster of core consciousness from the Soul-Devouring Mire.
That core had looked like a clump of seaweed, so Saul had simply called it “Little Algae” for short.
Little Algae was sotis adorably dumb, sotis clever as could be. It always stuck close to Saul and never showed itself around outsiders.
Neither ntors nor senior apprentices had noticed anything unusual—or if they had, they just assud it was so kind of specin Saul carried around. No one ever questioned it.
The morgue environnt was sowhat similar to Little Algae’s old ho, and in the past few days, it had even plumped up a bit.
With the gloves and the runes carved into his bones, Saul could finally attend class without having to constantly dodge stray electrical surges from Monica.
Just as he finished putting everything away, a rhythmic knocking—bang bang bang—sounded at the door.
Before Saul could even move, Keli’s voice ca from outside.
“Open up, open up, birthday ti!” Her tone was flat, like she was announcing a water ter check.
When Saul opened the door, there she stood, holding a square box in both hands.
“Happy birthday!”
The box looked… suspiciously familiar. Saul glanced back and saw an identical row of little boxes lined up on his workbench.
Turning back with a complicated expression, he reached for the box and invited Keli inside.
People in this world didn’t really celebrate birthdays—at least, not apprentice witches.
Saul had once casually given Keli a homade “Unnad Reagent No. 1” on the day he’d found out was her birthday.
He’d developed many such reagents during his exploration into body modifications, most of which were useless or even harmful.
But Reagent No. 1 could remove certain impurities from tal, making it stronger.
Figuring it might be useful for a tal-focused witch like Keli, he’d handed it over as a casual gift.
To his surprise, the small gesture had touched her deeply. She had never received a gift that was purely to celebrate her own existence.
She’d asked for Saul’s birthday after that and had made it a point to celebrate it every year since.
Last year, she had given him the rune for electrical resistance etched into his hand bones—a seriously valuable gift.
“Is this one expensive?” Saul asked offhandedly as he set the box on the table and began unwrapping it.
“How could a gift from not be expensive?” Keli crossed her arms, clearly waiting to see his reaction.
Saul finally managed to peel open the ticulously wrapped box.
Inside, nestled in cotton cloth, was a thumb-sized blue fruit.
“This is…” Saul blinked, trying to place it. Then it clicked. “This is a fruit from the Companion Flower?”
“Yup.” Keli nodded firmly.
“And the kind that increases magic?” Magic had always been a pain point for Saul.
Especially after hitting 45 joules—his magic growth had hit a wall again.
One of these blue fruits could boost his mana by at least 1 joule.
Unfortunately, growing such fruit was unpredictable, and Companion Flowers themselves weren’t easy to co by for apprentices.
The first one Saul had gotten had miraculously borne a blue fruit.
Later, through work and trades, he’d acquired two more—but they had never yielded white fruit.
“These past two years, your birthday gifts have been right on ti. Looks like I’ll need to step up my ga next year.”
Keli nodded seriously. She never pulled her punches when it ca to gifts.
“If you’ve got any on hand, I could use so toxic compounds with unusual properties.”
“Toxins? You? Aren’t you focused on tal?” Saul blinked. This was the first ti he’d heard of her needing poisons.
“My ntor specializes in toxins. A lot of the projects and specins he studies involve poison reactions.” Keli shrugged.
Looked like becoming a Second-Rank apprentice ca with the right to join in on a ntor’s research.
Saul, on the other hand, only occasionally helped ntor Rum or Senior Nick with simple experints—and spent the rest of his ti working in the morgue.
Not that others weren’t jealous of his position.
“Anyway, enough of that,” Keli waved it off. “I also made a birthday cake. Let’s go eat it in the dorms.”
“No thanks, let’s not.”
“I promise it’s better than last year.”
“No! I have an experint tonight—I can’t sleep in the washroom again.”
“It won’t co to that!” Keli quickly slipped behind Saul and started pushing him toward the door. “The ingredients are all fresh this ti!”
Saul didn’t want to actually shove her, so he struggled to resist gently.
Just then—
“Sorry, I didn’t an to eavesdrop… but what’s a ‘birthday cake’? So kind of new poison?”
Nick erged from behind the morgue’s heavy crimson doors, lifting a hand in greeting.
With an outsider present, Keli imdiately released Saul and resud her cold and aloof deanor.
“Ah, good afternoon, Senior Nick.” Saul straightened his collar. “A birthday cake is… a kind of food you eat to celebrate your birthdate.”
“Your hotown even has a gift-giving tradition for birthdays?” Nick stepped forward, holding up a folded letter. “Perfect. Then consider this good news my gift to you.”
Saul took the letter from between Nick’s fingers and unfolded it, eyes scanning the contents quickly.
A smile slowly blood on his face.
“It’s from Senior Byron!”
At the ntion of Byron, Keli also glanced over curiously, though she politely kept her distance.
Saul finished reading, and his expression turned from joy to disbelief.
He looked up. “Senior Byron says he’s inviting us to join him on a mission outside the tower… What does that an?”
Nick answered calmly, “Exactly what it sounds like. As long as the ntors approve, a Third-Rank apprentice can invite even a First-Rank one on external missions. And the ntors… have never said no.”
He raised his hands and clapped twice.
“Congratulations—you’re getting out of here.”
(End of Chapter)
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