Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

"Nia!" Ralph's expression stiffened for a moment. He quickly turned around and looked at Nia, who was standing by the plate and trying to take a piece of pastry.

Nia didn't put down the food in her hand, but she politely responded to Ralph with great enthusiasm.

"Ralph!"

Ralf's expression melted away like ice melting in the snow. He rushed over and picked up Nia, holding her tightly in his arms. "I'm so happy that Nia came to see me. Nia is wonderful."

Seeing Nia giggling in Ralph's arms, Lyle felt much more at ease and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Nia is so energetic. She ran around all day on the way here. I'm exhausted."

As spring turned to winter, Ralph spoke in a dangerous tone toward Lyle.

"You made my Nia walk all the way here? She's still a child, kid. When you were your age, you walked this far? Did you get your brain caught in a door? Don't you know what a carriage is?!"

Lyle, faced with the sudden outburst of Ralph, hurriedly tried to exonerate himself.

“I just don’t think it’s necessary. Nia thinks it’s fine too.”

“I think it’s necessary! Lyle, next time Nia comes to see me, don’t come along. Just seeing you makes me angry.”

"..."

Chapter 228 Holy Light Ritual

Without disturbing Ralph's family time, Lyle went to the main street alone, wanting some peace and quiet. Passersby looked at this idly elegant man, and even the people who were making a ruckus at the counter unconsciously lowered their voices.

Lyle gazed at the dark clouds behind the distant tower, just beyond the broken weathervane. Even though he had witnessed this scene for twenty years, a strange feeling arose within him; it was as if he no longer belonged to Cassandra. His instinctive capacity for adaptation had been completely exhausted by absorbing the new knowledge bursting forth from Andrei.

Lyle had hoped that Ralph would bring him a sense of home. But in reality, he didn't. Without the deep bond between uncle and nephew, Ralph's life lacked the warmth of Cassandra's presence. Lyle could only console himself with the thought that his uncle was taciturn, but in truth, wearing this new outfit concealed the last vestige of his connection to Cassandra. In this vast city, no one remembered his name.

The sheriff passed Lyle with a knight in full armor. It was a paladin, but he was too short; even with the plumes on his helmet standing upright, he didn't reach Lyle's height. The two seemed to be heading into the sheriff's office, and Lyle subtly stepped aside to let them pass. The sheriff, rubbing the back of his head, quickly went inside, but the paladin remained, standing before Lyle, scrutinizing him for a long time.

"Detect evil!"

"It's Karen." Feeling the familiar holy light sweep over his body, the warm sensation made Lyle realize the identity of the short paladin.

"It's Lady Pure One! It's Lord Lyle!" A joyful female voice from inside the armor confirmed Lyle's judgment; it seemed Karen hadn't given up her habit of investigating evil. "Lord Lyle! I've finally found you."

"Is there something you need, Karen?"

"Lord Lyle, in the next waxing and waning month, the Holy City of Locarrot will hold the Celebration of the Holy Light, an annual grand ceremony for the Light Chasers! I beg you, please join me in this ceremony, and under the witness of the Holy Light, convey the news of the Pure Ones' return to our brothers and sisters."

"Please promise me, Lord Lyle!" Karen pounded her armor, making a loud thud. It was unclear whether it was a plea or a threat. Perhaps the moment Lyle refused, a holy hammer would smash into her?

"I promise you, Karen, I will definitely attend the Holy Light Ritual." Promise me for now. When the time comes, I'll be in Andrei; whether I go or not won't be up to you.

Karen tilted her head, the sound of the bottom of her helmet rubbing against her shoulder armor was grating.

"I have a feeling Lord Lyle is thinking about something else? But breaking the contract is unacceptable, you know. I once entrusted Mr. Relf to give you a cross, and I presume you've received it by now. Lord Lyle, that's the cross of oath, and also your ticket to the Holy City of Locarrot. If you don't show up on the appointed day, Lord Lyle, I will hunt you down following the mark of the cross!"

"Huh? Okay, I won't break the contract." So that camphor wood cross was such a troublesome thing.

Seeing Lyle's repeated assurances, Karen finally relaxed, bowed to Lyle, and left.

"Let's meet again in the Holy City, Lord Lyle."

Karen left in a whirlwind, just as abruptly as she arrived.

“I’ve been avoiding that girl lately because of your relationship with Ariana. She’s a good girl,” Ralf sighed behind Lyle. “But, kid, if finding me a lover affects Nia’s upbringing, you’d better not pray to the God of Light or the God of Magic, because they can’t save you.”

Exhausted, Lyle returned to Andrei close to dusk. After Karen left, Ralph interrogated Lyle like a criminal, giving him a set of psychological questions he supposedly wrote to judge the likelihood of a man's infidelity. After repeatedly testing himself and obtaining satisfactory results, Lyle was finally released after a reluctant farewell to Nia.

Lyle knocked on the door, its white surface adorned with flowing gold threads. For rituals of holy light, for the symbolic cross, one must, of course, seek out professionals.

"Epidemic doctor!" Mr. Raymond, the big light bulb waving his arm, came back from the aisle behind him.

“Mr. Raymond,” Lyle couldn’t ignore the object in his hand: a golden human skull with a horse bit radiating holy light, held between Mr. Raymond’s arm and arm armor, emitting a whirring sound like a distress signal. “What is this?”

"Ah, this is the president of the Psychology Research Club. He's been so engrossed in academics lately that he's overworking his brain, so he entrusted me with his head for a few days to help him with his headaches. You mean this horse bit? Sigh! He's got a disease where he'll die without it, so I had to lend a hand for the sake of Andrei's unity. Please forgive me, Holy Light, for using you for this."

"..." I'll just assume you're Mr. Raymond and Andre's savior.

Raymond slammed the chapel door open with a bang, turning back to greet Lyle as he went.

"Doctor, what can I do for you?"

"Mr. Raymond, are you familiar with the rituals of the Holy City of Locarrot?"

“The Holy Light Ritual?” Upon hearing this term, Mr. Raymond released his hand, which had been drilling holes in the skull. “Has it reached the tenth month of waxing and waning this year? Yes, of course I know about the ritual. Are you interested?”

“Actually, I received an invitation from a paladin to attend this ceremony in Locarrot.”

Mr. Raymond casually tossed the skull, which he had said he would keep carefully, and it rolled into a corner of the chapel, where it was forgotten.

“Great! This is a good thing, Plague Doctor. Participating in the ceremony greatly increases your chances of awakening your Holy Light power. You should go and see it. In fact, the ceremony will have extraordinary benefits for all humanity.”

“However, Mr. Raymond, I am worried that my necromancy abilities will be exposed. You know, it’s really stupid for a necromancer to wander around the Holy Light’s homeland.”

Raymond stroked his chin. "It seems I do need to give you some assurance." Raymond raised his arm and swung it in the air, scattering a small cloud of light dust onto Lyle.

"That way you won't be exposed, Plague Doctor. Travel around Locarrot in peace."

"Thank you, Mr. Raymond. I hope my spirit summoning technique won't be exposed now."

“As long as you don’t use it, no one will care about the power within you. I mainly shielded you from your abilities as a Purifier, your perception and enlightenment of the Holy Light, if you don’t want to cause a big commotion at the ceremony.”

Lyle left after expressing his gratitude.

Elian approached Raymond, holding the skull that Raymond had just carelessly discarded.

"Why didn't you just put this anywhere? My sister, why did you pick it up?"

“Your Majesty Raymond, that’s not something to be left lying around. I don’t want to have to go back to the chapel to look for a carelessly discarded bone when the complainants come knocking.”

Raymond waved his hand impatiently. "Those are all irrelevant. What I'm more interested in is who on the Holy Light's side has been in contact with the Plague Doctor. The Plague Doctor has already joined Andrei, and his advantage as a Pure One is becoming a burden. On the Holy Light's side, the fewer people who have been in contact with the Plague Doctor, the better."

“I know the people who have been in contact with the epidemic medical staff.”

"Who is it, Elian?"

"My niece."

"???"

"Karen Pompeii, a little girl who grew up reading your Crusader Kings Chronicles. If you had put a little more effort into making up the story back then, my niece wouldn't be such a fool now, Your Majesty Raymond."

"...That guy George, he never puts his heart into his work."

Chapter 229 My Friend

The chunks of flesh coiled on the table moved as if guided by its own will. Like a lesson learned long ago, a sharp blade sliced ​​open the wound, revealing the truth buried beneath the flesh. Life surged vibrantly in the blood, and will struggled relentlessly on the edge of broken bones.

None of these appeared in the lump of flesh before Lyle's eyes. It was like a uniform red dough ball, without any intricate human structure, just a disguise, a skin driven by magic.

It won't tell us the truth; it needs us to shape its truth. Lyle put down the gleaming silver knife; his black gloves were stained with blood, and even under the cover of herbs, a faint smell of rust could still be detected.

Looking at his hands, which looked clumsy because of the gloves, Lyle adopted the caution he had shown in his past experiments.

"Nia".

The spreading tiny tentacles, like a swarm of snakes swimming across his body, wove a flowing net across Lyle's arm. The tentacles climbed onto his palms, as if he were wearing another glove, a strange glove. As his surging magic extended threads from his fingertips, tiny blood vessels on the fleshy glove began to sway and dance around the magical threads, like growing parasitic vines.

Lyle extended his palm, gently touching the inside of the flesh. Like caressing delicate skin, his moving arm moved like an elegant dancer. With this movement, the flesh transformed; soft areas formed blood vessels, hard regions stretched into muscle textures, and sensitive areas separated from the rest, transforming into nerves carrying faint electrical signals. The once solid internal flesh began to swell, forming sacs in unseen areas, the developing organs like fruits growing on a plant, hidden within protective chambers.

The exhaustion from the immense drain on his magic didn't bother Lyle. At this moment, watching the disguise constantly shifting in his hands, he was enveloped in a wondrous feeling, a blissful intoxication filled with arrogance and satisfaction. He loved this feeling; he felt like a creator, uprooting hills, squeezing valleys, guiding the wellsprings of life along his predetermined paths to form rivers. He felt like a great artist, a weaver, weaving life itself.

The wire broke.

Nia's tentacles curled Lyle's hand into a bun, and under the dense network of tentacles, not a single trace of magic escaped. This was something the two had agreed upon beforehand. It seemed to be a mysterious phenomenon; whenever Lyle attempted to shape the internal form of his flesh-and-blood clone, he would enter a state of complete absorption, unaware of stopping even as he drained the last ounce of magic from his body. To prevent another magical shock, Nia became Lyle's monitor and safety device.

Lyle looked inside the flesh and blood; the sculptures of the brain and digestive system were less than half complete. His magic was still too weak. Individual organs that hadn't formed a system would eventually fail. With regret, Lyle let the flesh and blood devour those organs and tissues.

"It's really difficult to have dinner with Ariana." The wounds on the meat began to heal themselves, as if the splendor of life displayed over the past two hours was just a dream.

Lyle tapped his temples; his head was spinning, and it seemed he wouldn't be able to continue his research for a while.

"Failed again, boss."

The three companions put down the parchment in their hands. The dense characters on it were their notes from watching Lyle operate. They were learning the mysteries of flesh and blood in preparation for the great creation to come.

"I still don't have enough magic power. I estimate that around four locks, I'll be able to create a perfect human body."

Manipulation carefully put away the notes. "The main problem is that the conditions for constructing flesh and blood are too complicated. The limitation of having to use one's own magic power makes many alternative magic powers unusable. I really don't understand why there is this limitation."

“I can understand that. The creation of flesh and blood gives rise to the exclusivity of the body, just as organs from different bodies cannot be compatible.”

"But aren't the organs of our undead creations universal?"

Perhaps I'm imitating a living person, Lyle thought to himself inexplicably. From death to life, teacher, I may truly have embarked on an abnormal path.

"Don't think too much about it, we still have classes tonight. Since the boss can't come tonight, we need to be extra careful. Tonight's new class might be another challenge, and there are no supernovas to shield us tonight."

Lyle had planned to set off for the holy city of Locarrot early in the morning, so he would not participate in tonight's class, but instead conserve his energy for tomorrow's journey.

As Lyle waved goodbye to his companions, he didn't hear their chatter in the evening breeze.

"Whose class is it tonight?"

"Professor Arnoin, the miracle of flesh and blood and independence."

Lyle returned to the luxurious cup. The gentleman had been leaning against the balcony these past few nights, playing poignant nocturnes from his hometown under the crimson moonlight. Lyle stopped to listen to his music; the cool, melodious flute notes were much more to his liking. Perhaps his ears had been subjected to too much strain lately, but Lyle felt the gentleman's playing sounded even better. The helpless sighs and pleading images in the music surfaced in his mind, becoming much more profound.

When the music ended, Lyle naturally expressed his praise with applause. As if stirring up a memory in the gentleman, he gave Lyle a musician's bow, a strange yet playful gesture.

“That’s wonderful, sir. You should hold your own music shows like Anna.”

The gentleman simply smiled politely a few times. "I can only play a few simple tunes. I have neither the ability nor the ambition to become a musician. Someone like me is better off playing quietly in a secluded corner."

"Let's not talk about that anymore. I heard you're going on another long journey, Doctor of Epidemic Diseases."

"Yes, sir, I am going to Locarrot to attend a celebration of the Holy Light."

The gentleman paused for a fleeting moment, a pause so brief that Lyle didn't notice.

“Locarrot, Plague Doctor, it’s too dangerous for someone of your status to go to a place like that. As your friend, I have to warn you. Locarrot is now the City of Holy Light, which is an absolutely dangerous place for us.”

Lyle smiled beneath the mask.

"Thank you for your concern, sir, but I have made ample preparations, so I will be fine."