Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

Lyle paused for a moment, looking at his palm.

"I didn't notice, could that be a big problem?"

That's not a problem; for us, it's a form of evolution. We are growing, just like a vibrant, energetic young dragon.

“Say what you will, I’m going back to Andre Academy…” She took a step forward but then pulled back. “Haven’t I visited humans in a long time? Uncle Ralph is probably enjoying his time with his partner, and William is… enjoying his time with his partner. Oh, right, we can go see Kevin. We haven’t seen him since he decided to inherit Hamletshire. And the carrier pigeons capable of flying to Nathlan or Andre are all doomed. The last few times we’ve passed through Mr. Nameless of the Advanced Magic Research Society, but unfortunately, he’s not very enthusiastic about the punctuality of messengers. Come on, Nia, let’s go visit Earl Kevin.”

The ominous shadows moved across the ground, and the overlapping shadows of the trees trembled as they passed by.

Your existence also influences those around you; the people closely connected to you are no longer ordinary individuals.

……

In Andre, the bright sunlight shone on the broken window frame, and the weeds covered with bits of meat stripped away the warmth of the light, leaving only the pure light shining on the recently repaired marble floor. The empty corridor was silent, as if only ghosts were wandering here.

The sound of chains sliding echoed from the corner, and a flowing blue and white checkered tablecloth fell from the sky. It belonged to the reporter, the three members of the literary society, the editor-in-chief of the Andre Daily, and one of the writers of the bizarre series of publications.

This is a secluded corner of Andre, a dead end. The tower that once connected the passageways is gone, leaving only ruins to indicate that this place was once used. No liches would come to this empty window, as it faces the sunlight, and the ivy climbing out of the rubble displays vibrant life. Only lost newcomers or liches like journalists who enjoy suppressing their instincts and seeking thrills would come here.

This place is a secret base that is not exactly a secret to the reporter. He often comes here to sketch or to work on some earth-shattering literary works.

"Sigh, with the Plague Doctor gone from Andrei, there's been a lot less fun here. With the disguise of flesh and blood, the lich's self-awareness has become stronger, and there aren't many secrets left for me to trade."

Just as the reporter uttered this exclamation, he spotted a figure in a long robe sitting on the stone bricks where he often sat, his gaze fixed on the distant forest of bones in the light.

"Business is on the door. Let's see what secrets this strange newcomer has." The reporter thought of thirteen kinds of fraudulent behavior that violated the friendly laws of Andrei Lich. These days, it's hard to be a conman, and it's even harder to be a reporter.

"Lost, newbie?" Adopting the demeanor of a helpful senior, the reporter skillfully approached the figure.

The figure wasn't surprised, and instead asked the reporter, "How did you know I'm a newcomer?"

The reporter said confidently, "There's no point in lingering here. Only lost newcomers and those who are well-prepared come here, and I know almost all of the latter. Let me introduce myself. I'm a reporter, a secret agent, a merchant who trades secrets. Interested in learning more? If you have any secrets."

"Sure, I was just about to give it a try."

Surprisingly easy to talk to, this newcomer had no guard up at all, just like the plague doctor from back then.

A brass clock unfolds behind the reporter, rusted chains begin to obscure reality, and a secret barrier perfectly forms to conceal the transaction's secrets. The reporter awaits the newcomer to reveal his secret.

The newlywed's lips curled into a smile inside his hood.

"Once upon a time, there was a lazy boy who was a member of an ancient organization. They had a special profession: they were loyal to a king and his territory. As a result, this organization held a very high position in that land, and no force, whether holy light or magic, could occupy its place. The boy's mentor was one of the leaders of this organization, and they were like advisors to the king or had a closer connection."

"Because of his laziness, the boy was not very focused on his profession, but his teacher did not blame him. The boy's teacher was also his father. After his son did not show any determination to follow in his footsteps, he excluded his son from the task of serving the king and intended to keep him away from the dark side of those jobs."

"It was a mistake. Hiding it from his apprentice and child only fueled the boy's rebellion. He displayed his talent and began to secretly uncover the work his mentor had hidden, as well as the organization's true mission. He saw darkness; his companions were the king's accomplices, their only job being to protect the secrets of the ruler's tyranny—a dishonorable job. The boy's world crumbled. He was filled with resentment towards the concealment and with hatred towards the organization that aided and abetted evil. As a righteous teenager, he would carry out his own justice."

"No...don't say anymore." The reporter's voice trembled as he was empowered by the power of the Mystic, but the transaction continued and he couldn't stop it.

The newcomer continued telling the story.

"The boy found his opportunity. At the organization's most important ceremony, he bravely stepped forward and exposed the king's tyranny and the darkness of the mysterious organization to the people. He upheld his justice, even at the cost of family ties. The others in the organization failed in their duty; they did not keep the king's secret. Chains of rules descended from the sky, tearing each of them apart as the price for their breach of trust. The 'righteous' boy also received his 'reward.' The power of all the organization's members flowed into his body, making him the sole representative of the rules. The king was torn apart by the people; the tyrant did not struggle, but simply watched his kingdom descend into war."

"It turns out that the truth of this world is far more complex than the boy imagined. That homeland was once the cradle of the gods, where their malice was buried. The king and a mysterious organization made a pact: the king was the sacrifice to bear that malice, while the organization was responsible for maintaining the stability of the country. After the king and the organization were lost, the gods' malice transformed into war and swept across that land. Even now, the poison of war still lingers. The boy only realized this at the end because the secret his companions had guarded had been passed on to him through their deaths."

"Could this story become the secret of the deal?"

“Sberg Yershe, Mr. Reporter? Or should I address you as the Last Secret Agent?”

The deal failed; the mastermind, Sberg, has obtained the secret.

The reporter knelt on the ground, staring maliciously at the newlyweds in front of him.

"That's...my story...my secret. Who are you...?"

The newlywed removed his hood, revealing a handsome face beneath blond hair, his smile carrying an air of indifference towards all living beings.

“I am Sheriu, the enemy of all that is alive and all that is dead. Sir, this is the secret of our deal.”

[Deal completed.]

"Those who share the secret must not reveal it."

Chapter 615 The Outer One

The Mystic, the guardian of mystery, are less like mystical spellcasters and more like humanoid vessels maintaining a mysterious set of rules. They enter into a pact with the concept of "mystery," becoming puppets of the rules.

“A Mystic is a very useful tool.” Sheriwu exploited the rule that Mystics must keep secret, preventing the reporter from revealing that she had infiltrated Andre Academy. It should be said that the moment the reporter lost their own secret, they had no advantage over Sheriwu. Her flowing golden hair shimmered in the sunlight, and the ivy leaves on the wall appeared a touch greener in the golden light. Sheriwu, with her back to the sun, looked at the reporter with a gaze that seemed compassionate and merciful.

As a member of a literary society that had long suffered from unexpected events, the reporter had a habit of adjusting his mindset in the face of crises. He took three deep breaths like a human, removed the tablecloth from his head, and a sinister flame of the soul burned within his pale skull.

"First of all, I congratulate you on your successful infiltration of Andrei, esteemed Mr. Counterfeit. Andrei is a treasure trove of knowledge, but you will soon learn that the liches guarding the secret treasures are far more terrifying than dragons. You will gain nothing from Andrei."

Sheriwu's smile didn't change despite the provocation, even though he was certain in his heart that the reporter was telling the truth. But Sheriwu had come at a risk not for the destructive knowledge that could overturn the world.

"I came to Andrei for only two reasons."

"The first step, finding the Mystic, is complete."

"Secondly, make secrets with the Pacters."

Deep blue tentacles crawled out from behind Sheriu, and surging shadows engulfed the surroundings like a curtain of water. The power of the evil god gathered here, and the chaotic power completely eliminated all detection.

“You will help me, Mr. Reporter, because the Secret Clan are useful tools.”

The reporter tilted his head, looking relieved, and got up from the ground.

"Ah, so you were looking for me. Never mind then. You know, secret transactions must follow the principle of equivalent exchange, and you… Mr. Sheriu, you don't seem to have any value in a transaction." The reporter stroked his chin, pacing back and forth around Sheriu. "A madman who stole the power of an evil god. After you created panic in the City of Wanderings, I began investigating you, Sheriu Hamlet, a pathetic mortal… You twisted yourself into Lyle's alter ego, blindly pursuing the highest existence. Your past is so empty, devoid of any valuable mystery."

“Sheliu Morning Star, that is my real name.” Sheliu’s smile vanished, his face contorted with rage, like an enraged beast. His relationship with Hamlet was like an ugly scar, and that was exactly the effect the reporter wanted.

"In any case, a person's past largely determines their value. I don't believe the Hamlet family has any mysterious, undiscovered secrets. As for now, you are Lyle's alter ego, and before Lyle left, he had already traded a series of secrets with me concerning omens and the knowledge of evil gods." The reporter behaved like a snobbish businessman, hunching his back, tilting his head, and glancing sideways at Sheriu. "Do you have any other secrets worth trading?"

The reporter was well aware of his own capabilities; he was a world-established question-and-answer machine. Secrets obtained from those with secret agreements required an equal exchange of mystery. The world had its own standards for measuring these values, and these standards would satisfy the traders. Everyone who exchanged secrets received the information they desired.

Sheriu was once a human, a nobleman with a mystical background. This isn't meant to be derogatory, but in this era where the mystical side is suppressed by the Holy Light, those nobles who once studied magic have all concealed their wings; those with true power have long since disappeared, like the City of Wanderings. Sheriu's past likely holds few significant secrets. And then, he transformed himself into another Lyle, becoming another's shadow—a rather foolish act in the reporter's eyes.

"Perhaps you have gained Lyle's memories and know my identity, but becoming someone else's shadow means losing yourself. A shadow has no secrets."

"You are worthless before the [Secret Pact]."

Sheriwu smiled, his fair, flawless cheeks flushed with the rosy glow of melting snow, his lips perfectly outlined by a delicate brushstroke. Sheriwu's smile revealed his charm, a charm that would leave even liches speechless.

“Mr. Reporter, you are just like everyone else in this foolish era, only concerned with birth and bloodline. Family is the most powerful, and bloodline is the most noble. To be honest, I am a little disappointed, but fortunately, you are not the [Secret Contract], you are just its puppet.”

“It was me who dug into your past, it was me who usurped the power of the evil god, whether it was the plan to fall the City of Wandering or the submission of Loshutar. All of these were driven by me. You ignored the power of the individual, even though you are in this unique academy.”

The confrontation between Sheriu and the reporter was reversed once again, with the smiling deity pressing closer to the indifferent lich.

“I know everything about Lyle, so I also know that he will never reveal all his secrets. I don’t need many chips; one ace is enough to decide the outcome.”

"Lyle's secret?"

"That's right, your beloved plague doctor has a secret that none of you know, and this secret..."

An uneasy atmosphere permeated the corner. The reporter anxiously looked towards the corridor, hoping that someone would come over during the delay.

“Although I can’t create a completely independent domain like a Mystic, the power of the Evil God can still help us create a relatively quiet environment. I’ve blocked my senses, and this space has been transported to the [Deep Water Zone] by the Deep Sea Omen.”

"Come on, let's begin our secret exchange, Mr. Reporter."

"Exchange for Lyle's ultimate secret that he has been hiding?" The reporter was a little nervous, but also a little tempted. After all, those who have a secret contract are somewhat powerless in every aspect.

"No, I won't change."

"Huh?" You talked for so long, using those words and intimidating tone to pressure me, and then said you wouldn't change it. Are you kidding me?!

“Lyle’s secret might not be enough, so let’s exchange it for something else. A secret that belongs to me, Sheriu, the one behind me…”

"It is a consensus that the evil god's offspring belong to the evil god. The entity behind you is the Sleeping Triton. This information is highly mysterious, but consensus is not a secret. Don't even think about deceiving me through fraud or other means."

Sheriwu smiled and said, "The being that gives me power is..."

"【The Outer One】"

[Deal...complete.]

Chapter 616 The New Hamlet

【The Outer One】

This wasn't a word spoken by Sheriwu. In his absolutely independent and secretive realm, the name he uttered was a far deeper, darker one. When that sound reached a creature's ear, it would flow, it would breed an indescribable malice, a rebellion condensed to its extreme, like your skin betraying itself, you could feel your skin licking the flesh beneath. The tone was so bizarre and strange that no written name was ever left behind.

It was like a deliberately fabricated, illusory fear that planted a seed of fear in one instant.

Only… (The last part is a list of names that live on in memory in written form.)

【The Outer One】

The reporter did not interpret this absurd horror as a trick by Sheriu, even though he desperately wanted to.

"[Deal...complete.]" The aged, inhuman voice uttered from the reporter's lips, causing him, controlled by the power of the secret contract, to pause uneasily. The secret contract had agreed to the deal, which meant that what Sheriu said was true, and behind him was an existence that could even make the rules of things pause.

The Mystic, Spohr, thought all these strange phenomena had come to an end, but he was wrong; the deal had only just begun.

In this mysterious realm, a bronze clock, symbolizing mystery, is embedded behind the reporter. A chain, sloping from behind the clock, runs through every corner of the realm, resembling a chain-driven structure or a cage binding the mysterious. With each swing of the hands, the chain clicks forward like a wound-up machine.

The mysterious clock was such a precise object that it operated with meticulous focus until Sheriwu uttered the secret.

The pointer stopped.

After three seconds of silence, the absolutely independent and mysterious realm began to go out of control. The hands of the clock spun rapidly backward, and black mist seeped from the rusty and dry chains. They were no longer taut and straight, but twisted like living things, cutting through the entire realm at a frenzied speed.

"What have you done? Stop it!" The secret chain controlling the reporter broke down, and he was finally able to speak in terror.

Sheriwu did not answer him, and the reporter noticed that Sheriwu's expression was equally unpleasant.

ten seconds.

The moment the eleventh second began, everything seemed amiss, the transformation occurring without a trace, the abrupt change as if everything before had been an illusion.

Sheriwut revealed his secret.

Those who agree to the secret agreement must provide a reward.

I accept your secret, and I will give you the secret you want.

Sheriwu looked at the controlled reporter with a mocking smile.

"You know what I want, and Secrets always delivers value that satisfies our clients."