This wizard only wishes to be a teacher

Goblin priest Abu casually spread his hands, signaling that Lucien could do as he pleased.

Meanwhile, he leisurely savored the unidentified gray thick soup, occasionally smacking his lips, seemingly indifferent to Lucien’s actions.

Lucien raised his arms, slowly lowered them, raised them again, and then let them drop slowly once more.

His expressions changed continuously. Although Lucien was struggling hard to restrain his emotions, the internal struggle was amplified to an extreme at that moment.

Threads of gray-white fog silently began to infiltrate Lucien, under the influence of this obscure force, Lucien’s consciousness seemed to split into two distinctly different identities at that moment.

One Lucien had a resolute face, his eyes firm, as if he was prepared for death; while the other Lucien had wavering eyes, half of his face concealed in the shadows, desperately hiding himself while his eyes conveyed a longing for life and a struggle against resignation.

"Listen to me! Take this chance to kill the goblin priest now. If he escapes, finding another opportunity like this will be too difficult! He’s a deity! Even if we’re killed by the backlash of the rules, we’re just a level-one Wizard. Killing a level-five creature is a fair trade, isn’t it?"

"No, surviving is what’s most important! He’s not even my friend, nor is he worth desperately serving as his stepping stone!"

The two Luciens went from discussing to arguing, and quickly from arguing to disputing. If neither of them had been incorporeal, they might have already come to blows.

It was a choice between two losses.

It seemed no matter how Lucien chose, he would be the loser. Only, this "loser" had the right to choose the winner.

Lucien, like a puppet about to end his performance, slowly walked towards the twisted Altar Tower.

His steps were faltering, as if these few steps represented the last journey of his life.

The goblin priest looked down and tasted the special drink from the chaotic civilization. As he bowed his head, a smug smile played across his wrinkled face.

"Go on... hurry..." The goblin priest smiled expectantly, and secretly pleased.

He dared to "snatch food from the tiger’s mouth" in the Land of Reality because the powers he possessed were very well-suited for the Dream Rules.

Twisting, manipulating emotions—these capabilities might only be average in direct combat. When facing deities adept in destruction or spatial abilities, he could only flee in disarray. But in non-combat situations, his abilities were exceptionally useful. 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Moreover, with just a smooth tongue, he was confident he could quietly handle his opponent.

Like the level-five Wizard he and Lucien had talked about earlier, his defeat was also not through direct combat.

And now, the little fellow who posed the greatest threat to him was about to embark on a path of self-destruction.

"Still too young..." Goblin priest Abu sneered inwardly. He calmly put down his soup bowl, his pale green eyes silently watching Lucien, who had now reached the front of the Altar Tower.

"Yes, that’s right, just like that..." Goblin priest Abu cheered silently in his heart, but the next moment, the serene and tranquil expression on his face could not be maintained, replaced by shock and anger.

Because at that moment, Lucien had not taken out a feather pen, instead quickly rushing to the front of the Dream Rules Stone Plate, extending his index finger, and using his own blood as ink to quickly make two strokes on the stone plate.

Lucien acted swiftly because the two strokes he wrote really lacked any technical skill, much like a mischievous child untrained in any painting techniques, splattering ink without restraint.

The lines he painted were two intersecting diagonal lines, the crimson blood strikingly conspicuous on the Dream Stone Plate with its black base and golden characters.

What Lucien painted was a red cross. This simple symbol almost universally signifies the same meanings:

Wrong, to remove.

And it was exactly the line of rules that the goblin priest had just tampered with that Lucien marked as incorrect.

"You’re insane!" the goblin priest screamed in fury, his green eyes filled with anger and fear.

"Not at all, on the contrary, I am now extremely lucid." Lucien smiled, feeling the Dream Stone Plate becoming rapidly active under the stimulation of his blood, just like the feather pen he had awakened with his blood before.

It was the indignation of a high-ranking life form having been desecrated, a feeling akin to being roused by a child’s urine.

Drip—

Blood was still dripping from Lucien’s index finger, and he could feel the stone plate’s anger toward him.

However, Lucien was not panicked; a smile even appeared on his face.

Because while feeling the revival of the stone plate, he could also sense that the rule the goblin priest had altered was being corrected at an astonishing speed, even the parts previously tampered with by the goblin priest were quickly being restored.

Lucien could even feel the stone plate’s anger shifting rapidly at this moment.

What is the quickest way to resolve a conflict?

Naturally, it’s by creating a bigger conflict to divert it!

Now, the goblin priest undoubtedly became the biggest target, followed by the "judge" who also mastered some rules, and only finally it came to Lucien, the "naughty child."

Although being roused by a child’s urine is infuriating, if the child’s purpose was to alert you to a burglar in your house, a normal person’s reaction would be to catch the burglar first.

After all, the naughty child can be dealt with anytime, perhaps waiting for a rainy day!

But if you miss the burglar, then everything lost is gone for good!

And now, the stone tablet had discovered two "big black rats"!

"That... Mr. Abu, I wonder, what would the taste be like for a sovereign?" Lucien said with a light laugh, his hand now holding a feather pen, quickly writing a name that could point to a great being in deep slumber, using the grey-white mist filling the air.

"Great Sovereign, slumbering deep within the Dream..."

Hum—

Without needing ink or Lucien’s blood anymore, the feather pen’s simple intelligence seemed to also grasp that Lucien’s actions had a positive effect on its own body, and thus it was particularly docile and even voluntarily released its power, began to absorb the surrounding grey-white fog, and integrated it into the text written by Lucien.

As Lucien continued writing, a terrifying aura rapidly descended with the feather pen as its anchor.