Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

He cupped his head in his hands, adjusted the connection, and answered indifferently.

"Thirty years? Three days? Three hours? What difference does it make to us? Time hasn't left many marks on us."

"But time brings new vitality. Come and meet my student, the plague doctor."

Zhiyan then noticed that there was another person standing on the vent. While he was rubbing his chin and looking at Lyle, he used his other hand to draw new magic lines on the damaged mural. Zhiyan casually repaired most of the damaged mural with magic, keeping his eyes focused on Lyle the whole time.

"With that mask and robe, is he the chief of some raven-worshipping tribe? He's lucky to have survived the Holy Light."

"Fifty years have passed since the end of the Crusades, Zhiyan, your memory is confused again."

"Is that so?" Zhiyan, still in the form of a skeleton, walked up to Lyle and looked him up and down.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Plague Doctor, but I must say, your attire is a bit… strange. And what’s with all that mud on your shoulders? It looks like… bones on top of you! It’s moving! Holy crap!!!” Nia, who was being degraded to mud, hung Zhiyan upside down in the air, performing the barbaric acts of the tribe that Zhiyan remembered.

The dragon laughed heartily to itself.

"Times have changed. You, an antique, what was once considered strange has become the trend of today."

“But Nia’s existence is eternal. Greet the larva of the evil god, Mr. Zhiyan.”

Zhiyan waved his hands in the air, muttering obscure and sinister incantations.

Nia listened to the song-like sounds and gradually calmed down.

Mr. Zhiyan's excited cheers echoed in the tomb.

"That prayer of depravity actually contains parts of the truth—this is a major discovery!"

Chapter 540 The Rock of Perseverance

Zhiyan lay on the ground, still reeling from the excitement. He propped himself up and faced Nia, who had just hoisted him up, without a single complaint.

"That's great. I've now become a beginner in the language of the evil gods. My resume has gained another ancient and proud item."

"Then who are you going to brag to? I don't think this skill is that useful. Evil gods are extremely rare; they won't let a nursery rhyme dispel their chaotic thoughts." The dragon pushed open the coffin lid of the tomb's original owner, which stood in the center like a backdrop. The poor fellow was nothing but bone fragments; the lower half had already turned to dust.

"Ha, that's because you can't even imagine its use. It can buy me one or two seconds when I'm disturbed by the tomb's owner, right during the process of introducing myself. If I speak a little slower, I might live five more seconds!" Mr. Zhiyan said in a serious but not serious tone.

"Maybe these sleeping guys are too grumpy when they wake up, and they'll just kill you because they hate your nagging."

"Impossible. Most of the tombs I've visited are grand in scale, and the people buried there possess the refinement expected of high-ranking individuals. At least with my persuasive skills, I've never made a mistake..."

“If anything goes wrong, I’ll be there to save you.” Mr. Dragon turned to Lyle, offering his explanation, which combined the qualities of a teacher and a friend. “Zhiyan’s talent is the ability to perceive antiquity. He can accurately locate the oldest stones in a pile of rocks, and this ability is equally useful when searching tombs. Therefore, the tombs he visits are either extremely wealthy or of great value, and are also places where liches frequently emerge. I like to call his talent ‘treasure hunter.’ Even the most skilled tomb raiders are not at his level, after all, he raids tombs based on talent and tireless perseverance. By the way, Plague Doctor, tomb raiding is a taboo word for Zhiyan.”

"And then you damned bastard said it several times!" Mr. Zhiyan had already jumped up, but was pressed down on the ground by the tall dragon's hand, unable to move. Among the Andrei liches, the dragon was one of the largest, over two meters tall, probably only Mr. Raymond or the Dean could compare to him. As for Mr. Zhiyan... his height was also... very ancient.

Zhiyan gave up on the futile struggle. "I am different from those ghouls who sell their lives for wealth! I only learn the history and knowledge buried in these rocks. I will not even glance at money and the stench of money! Even in the tombs I visit, I will protect and even restore the burial objects. If the owner is still alive, I will awaken them. This is my insistence as a seeker of knowledge!"

The dragon appreciated the rock-wielding man's habit, because he couldn't remain indifferent to those ancient fossils. "So you'll get a severe beating; the disturbed master won't listen to a grave robber's excuses."

Mr. Zhiyan picked up the nearest burial objects with both hands and began to examine them. “I don’t care. The beauty of knowledge makes me feel sweet, and the purity of my soul makes me transcend the mundane.”

"What about the burial goods of these deceased tomb owners...?" Not every dead person can become a lich.

"What belongs to the dead should naturally return to the dead," Mr. Dragon explained. Andrei, the necromancer, is not a philanthropist, and even Zhiyan is not without desires. Rather, they disturb death in order to obtain something.

“Mr. Zhiyan must be very learned,” Lyle remarked, watching his retreating figure.

"I have dabbled in things within the last two hundred years, from the very beginning of the Holy Light until now." Zhiyan's tone was calm, but the arrogance in his words reminded Lyle of how scholars used to show off their skills to dragons.

"You mean a two-hundred-year history?"

"History, geography, culture, magical principles, and racial traits—several extinctions, several geological changes—I know most of what was once buried beneath the rocks… For example, I know all the magical theories of the Andrei liches from fifty years ago, since they were all dead," Zhiyan continued. "Even now, I can understand Andrei's developments…"

“No, you can’t.” Mr. Dragon interrupted Zhiyan’s pretentious act without hesitation. Under Zhiyan’s strange sidelong glance, the dragon’s expression remained indifferent. “In the years you were gone, the Advanced Magic Research Society was established.”

"Advanced Magic Research Society? What's that? A training program for scholars?"

"The scholar has produced a monster who has become withdrawn. Time is flying by so fast that you will soon be left behind, my old friend."

The scholar's name, with its prestigious title, silenced Zhiyan's doubts, and he swallowed his apprehension... his chest felt empty. "Is that so? Then I'll have to go back and see for myself when I have time."

As Andrei was undergoing a technological leap, the City of Wanderers and the forces associated with Andrei's lich were also rapidly changing under his influence. Clearly, Mr. Zhiyan, the field operative, had missed all of this. He remained hidden in the tomb, oblivious to the wonders of the outside world.

“Mr. Zhiyan, why are you so engrossed in studying tombs? And you clearly know so much, yet you haven’t spent time turning that knowledge into power. This… is very strange.”

"There isn't enough time."

"How could this be..."

Mr. Dragon clapped his hands, drawing Lyle's attention to him.

“I once had the same doubts as you, Plague Doctor. But what you stand before you is a lich born purely for ancient texts. Zhiyan has sacrificed a great deal for this ancient knowledge, but as he said, there wasn’t enough time.”

"Life will die, and time will pass. Those vibrant things will gradually move towards the stage of 'ancient,' and after 'ancient' lies 'nothingness' that transcends death. Humans will die, and their memories and wisdom will be compiled into books and passed on to future generations, but our process from birth to death is unstable. Any accident may interrupt this process of inheritance. Natural disasters and man-made calamities will cause these civilizations written by the living to become the burial goods of the dead. Time will erase the traces of our existence and the value of life. And these fleeting glories were seen by my friend Zhiyan."

“He is collecting these ancient things before time pulverizes them into nothingness. My friend is not only a scavenger of antiquity, but also a preserver of magnificence. Everything is passing away, and Zhiyan is resisting this process. Resisting the very fact that ‘our existence is insignificant.’”

Zhiyan took over the dragon's words.

"I am merely persisting in the futile efforts of my life. Time will turn everything into the past, and tombs bearing history will continue to appear, but I may only see a fraction of them. The legacy will eventually be severed, and even I myself will be turned into something 'ancient' by time. Perhaps my soul has a better way of existing, but I have forgotten many things, and only remember how I pursued this path."

Is this what a pure lich is...?

Lyle then heard Zhiyan's laughter.

"So liches are really great, right? Eternal 'death' will never turn into 'nothingness'."

Mr. Dragon appeared beside Lyle at some point.

"He is a stubborn rock. His inner strength is just as conspicuous as his outward weakness. He races against time, focusing all his time on recording knowledge, not even willing to give up time to arm himself. Such persistence... makes me willing to be his cleaner."

"Ugh! Stop being disgusting, you animal lover. You must have come here for another purpose, right? If you want to use my knowledge, just say so, don't just stand there bragging."

Mr. Dragon's expression returned to calm.

"Indeed, I need your help. It would be best if you could help me out."

"Let's go, let's find a good place to talk, don't stay here and interfere with my work."

Zhiyan and the dragon walked side by side toward the exit of the tomb, and Lyle seemed to just be reacting. He looked at the burial goods and cleaning tools that Mr. Zhiyan had placed aside.

“Mr. Zhiyan, aren’t these tasks very important? You’re not even willing to spare time to learn your powers… why…” Why would you be willing to help the dragon complete an unknown mission?

"How long can you take me? An hour? A day? Or a week?"

Mr. Zhiyan tilted his head and pointed at Lyle, who was standing still.

"My job is to preserve the beauty that is on the verge of disappearing, and you and the dragon, as my friends, are clearly within that category of beauty. Come, newcomer, prepare a tea party and let's talk about the new changes."

Chapter 541 A Face That Brings Disaster to the Nation

"So you really prepared a tea party?" Zhiyan grumbled, looking at the warm steam rising from the dragon-shaped teacup. "Can't you stop being so formalistic?"

Beneath an old tree with a slightly bare crown, a round table made of tightly pieced-together bones appeared with a snap of the dragon's fingers. Lyle boiled tea in an earthenware pot and poured it into his own porcelain cup; Naslan's ghostly maid always slipped a cup into his leather pouch. Zhiyan sat on the bone chair provided by the dragon, his attention shifting to the blood-and-bone chair beneath Lyle.

"Is the Plague Doctor really just your student? Dragon, his necromancy skills seem to be no weaker than yours."

“It’s always something to be proud of for an apprentice to surpass his mentor. Once I’ve taught him the Bone Mech Fighting technique, I should be able to retire as the head professor.” The dragon shook its head excitedly from side to side, as if it could already see that future. “By the way, let me reintroduce my student to you. Andre’s youngest member of the Salvation Society, Mr. Plague Doctor. He’s one of the monsters that has made Andre develop beyond your expectations.”

"This tea gathering is a pleasant surprise. How long has it been since you last had tea, Zhiyan?"

“After I die.” Zhiyan seemed to have become interested. He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands flat on the table. “Show me your magic, Plague Doctor.”

Lyle removed his bird-beak mask, and in the dead of night, a smug smile graced his young face.

“I will give you a little ‘decoration,’ Mr. Zhiyan, which will make you shine.”

Faced with this lifelike face, the usually composed Zhi Yan suppressed his surprise and urge to scream, "I'm really looking forward to it, the plague doctor... Holy crap!"

Plans can't keep up with changes. A mass of flesh disguised as gore, like a predator, leaped out of the darkness and pounced on Zhiyan's face, shattering his composure. The dragon, anticipating this, removed Zhiyan's teacup from his frantic movements, took off its dragon head cover, and picked up its own teacup to enjoy a cup of tea.

"Make your movements smaller, old friend, that will reduce the time it takes for the flesh and blood camouflage to adapt."

It was late at night, and in the darkness, a terrifying cocoon of flesh was writhing in place, while two strange figures sat nearby drinking tea as if nothing was wrong. Moreover, the dragon felt that the light was not bright enough, so it summoned a group of its clones to stand beside it, using the chilling soul flames in their eyes as lighting tools. The scene was indescribably eerie.

"Would you like a drink too... teachers?" Lyle couldn't stand the dragon's clone staring at him any longer.

"One cup is enough, my student. Our perceptions are synchronized." A dozen mouths uttered the same words, which was particularly eerie.

This scene lasted for several hours, which Lyle found strange. The flesh disguise should not have taken more than an hour to adapt to the lich's original form, unless Mr. Rock looked very unusual.

Lyle was a little nervous, but the dragon stopped him from making a move. Master White Bone sat calmly to the side, his square face, etched with the unwavering resolve of a warrior, showing no sign of emotion.

"This is normal, just wait."

As dawn broke and the sunlight gradually illuminated the darkness, the flesh flowing on the surface of the rock slowly tightened, and from the blood and muscles to the skin, a dead person was resurrected.

The sunlight crossed the horizon, showering its favor upon the man. He reached out, picked up the long-cooled teacup, and drank it all in one gulp.

"It tastes good."

That calm, ancient-book-like demeanor remained unchanged, but Lyle could no longer maintain the same composure as before.

"Holy crap..."

The slight surprise made Zhiyan smile smugly. He tossed his newly grown hair, bathed in the sunlight, and displayed his... devastatingly handsome face.

Lyle understood why the flesh-and-blood disguise took so long. He never imagined that after being bombarded by the beauty of the Naslan sisters, he would actually be able to admire someone's appearance, especially a man's.

This appearance, this scene, is a gift from heaven. That handsome face has become a kind of spiritual impact, unforgettable.

Zhiyan, only Yan, just Yan is enough, MD.

Mr. Dragon patted Lyle on the shoulder, as if to comfort him.

"You did quite well for the first time you saw his face, Plague Doctor. When I first saw him, I also thought he was some kind of fairy skilled in illusion. But he's just a useless person with a pretty face."

"Flesh and blood, skin and bones. Don't you find my wisdom more captivating? You're all liches now, yet you still care so much about appearances, how superficial." Mr. Zhiyan, making this comment, had no idea that the corners of his mouth were actually turning up high, the emotional impulses brought about by the disguise of flesh and blood subtly influencing him.

Lyle suppressed the urge to punch him, and smiled distortedly.

“Mr. Zhiyan, your face is simply impossible to ignore.”

Zhiyan looked puzzled.

"Plague Doctor, have you seen Mr. Law at Andre Academy?"

“Mr. Lawyer, yes, I know him. I’m very familiar with him.”