The Queen of Scrolls never admits defeat

"Groot?"

The shadow on the door suddenly twisted and deformed, stretching out like melting asphalt, and a pitch-black "hand" reached out and grabbed the letter of introduction that Moran handed over.

The envelope made a slight rustling sound in the shadow's hand, as if it were being kneaded by an invisible force.

"Hmph... I can smell Groot's stench even through the envelope!"

The shadow muttered reluctantly, "Come in, you green-skinned girl!"

With a creak, the heavy wooden door slowly opened inward.

As Moran lifted her foot to step in, she saw her shadow slowly rise in the center, and an old woman wearing a black cloak emerged from it, her withered fingers gripping a rough stone cane.

She walked into the house without looking back, her stone cane making a dull thud on the ground.

Moran stood there, stunned. Martina added fiercely, "Don't step on the shadow bugs on the threshold! They're not in a great mood today, just like me!"

Moran swallowed hard, carefully stepping over the threshold, making sure to avoid the little creatures wriggling in the shadows.

They looked like clumps of moving moss, probably the shadow bugs Martina mentioned.

The room was not as gloomy and terrifying as I had imagined.

The walls inside the cave were plastered with a layer of fine yellow mud, and the surface was painted with simple geometric patterns using mineral pigments.

A dried cow skull hangs on the wall, its horns entwined with carefully prepared dried flowers. The pale purple petals have faded, but still emit a faint fragrance.

The fireplace crackled with orange flames, casting a warm glow throughout the room.

A black iron teapot rested above the flames, steam billowing from its spout.

Martina slowly sat down in the rocking chair in front of the fireplace, her thin fingers deftly opening the envelope.

The flickering firelight cast her shadow on the wall, a shadow that resembled a restless black mountain, its edges constantly shifting, sometimes expanding and sometimes contracting, a stark contrast to Martina's quiet and composed posture.

While Martina herself was engrossed in reading the letters, her shadow became excessively active.

It would occasionally stretch out its "arms" to poke at the firewood in the fireplace, making sparks crackle; then it would suddenly turn to Moran, extending its shadowy tentacles to drag her shadow toward the low stool in front of the fireplace.

For the first time, Moran truly experienced the strange sensation of her body being pulled by shadows, as if countless fine threads were wrapped around her limbs, gently yet irresistibly guiding her movements.

She subconsciously tensed her muscles, focusing her attention on resisting this invisible pull.

With a little mental effort, I was able to stabilize my body.

At that moment, Martina suddenly let out a soft "hmm," lifted her eyes from the letter, and carefully examined Moran with her obsidian-like eyes, but didn't say anything more.

"Sit down!" Her tone remained curt. "If you don't sit down now, you might not have a seat left after I finish reading the letter."

The shadow on the wall made a threatening stretching motion in perfect coordination.

Moran then walked over to the low stool made of animal spines and sat down.

The leather on the stool was unexpectedly soft and warm, carrying the scent of sunshine. Martina buried herself back in the letters, while her shadow took a keen interest in Moran's shadow.

Sometimes it transforms into slender tentacles that poke and poke at Moran's shadow, and sometimes it turns into jagged edges that overlap with it, like a mischievous child playing a shadow puppet game.

The shadows of other objects in the room were even more lively. The shadow of the teapot poured tea for itself on the wall, the shadow of the broom danced a comical dance, and even the shadow of the withered plant in the corner stretched out its "branches and leaves" on its own.

“Hmph, that old bastard Groot…” Martina suddenly spoke up.

Before the words were finished, the shadow on the wall suddenly opened its mouth wide and said in a high-pitched, exaggerated voice, "Hmph~ that old bastard Groot~"

This contrasted sharply with Martina's hoarse, deep voice.

Moran pursed her lips, afraid that she would laugh out loud and anger Martina.

Martina frowned, reached into her own shadow, grabbed a dark, lumpy thing, rubbed it vigorously a few times, and threw it far away into the shadows of the corner of the cabinet, where faint, affected sobbing could be heard.

Martina suddenly slammed her stone cane into the ground with a loud thud, startling Moran, who was engrossed in watching.

"Give it to me!" The old woman stretched out a wrinkled hand, palm up, and beckoned with her fingers impatiently.

"???" Moran looked bewildered, her green skin turning slightly bluish with confusion, a sense of foreboding creeping into her heart. "What?"

Martina snorted and threw the letter at her.

The bark paper traced an arc in the air, and Moran caught it in a flurry.

She quickly unfolded the letter, and old Groot's familiar, scribbled handwriting immediately came into view:
"Old hag: "
This girl has good potential and quite a bit of wealth, but she's a bit greedy. Learning our shapeshifting magic isn't enough; she wants to switch to the Shadow Clan to learn your shadow magic. Can you give her some guidance? You can ask her for the tuition!

I know you're not as quick-witted as me, and you're not as good at making money. I'm only introducing you to this business because we've known each other for a long time and we both care about our clansmen! Don't ruin it.

But don't ask for too much. Just charge two Dream Crystals at most! In our village, the Transformation class only charged two Dream Crystals for her. If you guide her all by yourself, you'll be lucky to earn one Dream Crystal.

If they dare to charge more, I will…

After the last sentence, there was a simple doodle: a stick figure kicking another stick figure into the river.

Moran's lips twitched. Even though she didn't understand the specific meaning of the graffiti, she could still sense a faint threat. Was this a letter of introduction or a letter of threat?

"That old bastard..." Martina muttered through gritted teeth, as the shadow on the wall suddenly grew longer and twisted angrily into a menacing shape, "Thirty years later, he's still the same scoundrel!"

Moran nodded emphatically, silently regretting that if she had known Old Groot's letter of introduction was like this, she wouldn't have tried so hard to stir up hatred in class and spur the dreamers of Emerald Wood Village to work harder.

"Give it to me!" Martina turned her head sharply, her sharp gaze sweeping across Moran's face like a knife.

Moran was taken aback, and tentatively asked with some surprise, "You're still willing to let me learn shadow magic from you?"

Given Martina's rumored personality, it's one thing if they don't add anything to her story, but they're actually planning to charge her tuition to teach her?
They were much easier to talk to than she had imagined.

Where exactly did the error occur? Are all the messages on the forum fake? (End of Chapter)