Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

Forcibly cramming the captured evil spirit into his body and assimilating it, his soul was torn apart into hideous fragments, his very being driven mad. The devourer and the devoured became indistinguishable, forming the new being before him. While digesting, he also had to endure the backlash of the vengeful spirit—this was Vol's current state. His current twisted state was entirely self-inflicted. But perhaps stepping onto the land of Poswa, being corrupted by the evil god, drove both of them insane. Both Vol and the defeated being within him had become an inseparable symbiotic entity.

The best cure is to eliminate it, rather than cure it.

"That's why Helena left him here, letting him run rampant and kill in this cursed land."

[Foolish kindness.] Omen still harbors a great deal of resentment towards Helena, who once sealed him away.

Lyle decided to let Wall continue wandering in Poswa; keeping Wall around was not a good option. He commanded the seeker to leave, for the sickly land of Poswa had become his prison and dwelling.

There is no light ahead; the best way forward is to maintain the status quo.

“There’s one advantage to this too.” Lyle murmured to himself as he watched the departing figure slowly dissipate into the dust, leaving only ruins.

"Those mad souls devoured by Vol were originally just ordinary people who had gone insane. Their dead souls should have dissipated long ago through the passage of time, instead of living vividly in a cursed spirit like this now."

You call this an advantage?

"Who knows? Good or bad is subjective."

Turning around, Lyle continued towards the coordinates.

The bleak state of Poswa is evident everywhere in this land, and Vol's presence is merely a symbol. The temporary encampment is ablaze with flames, charred remains are scattered along the streets, burning and collapsed beams shatter on crooked tombstones, and exposed brick fragments in the soil bear witness to this repeated tragedy time and again.

Ragged exiles occasionally appeared in Lyle's line of sight, but they either fled in fear the moment they saw him, or drew weapons from their filthy robes and charged at him in a screaming swarm. The dozen or so madmen were like ghouls wreaking havoc on the battlefield; whenever Lyle approached following the screams, they were the first to confront him. Even when Nia's body stretched out fully, casting an indescribable shadow behind Lyle, these madmen paid no heed.

Lyle experienced this two or three times, and began to avoid the areas where fires burned and smoke rose. But Posuwa's protection didn't stop there; Lyle's tent was attacked twice at night, one burned to ashes by torches, the other covered in blood and fragments of organs. On a night when Lyle was exhausted and asleep, bandits raided his tent. Nia tore her head to shreds, the rest impaled by bone spikes as tall as a person. Lyle, his eyes red and face covered in blood, coldly surveyed the hell he had created.

The long journey and constant harassment had worn him down, and the decay beneath the earth had, to some extent, interfered with his decision-making, finally erupting at this moment. Not far away stood a ghost tree, its leaves all fallen, seven or eight corpses hanging from its crooked branches. The moon danced in the treetops, its cold light casting a frost-like layer on the blood-red stones.

The ominous creature clung to the top of the bone spurs that pierced the human body, sat on the chests of the dead, and laughed like a madman.

With Nia's cleaning fluid still clinging to his face, Lyle was wide awake and stepped into the forest where the coordinates were located, his back to the moonlight. The swaying shadows of the trees rustled in the wind, looking eerie and terrifying, but Lyle didn't want to stay on this desolate plain for even a second longer.

The moment I stepped into the forest, the thin moonlight was swallowed up, shadows filled the air, and an ominous presence slid across the backdrop of the endless trees, stretching out haphazardly. The forest was eerily quiet, as if dead, with only the sound of boots crunching on the grass and Lyle's whispers as the sole sounds.

I'm getting more and more excited about that place, in this war-torn land where blood and flesh are flying... Can you try to guess what our destination will hold?

“What’s worse, perhaps, is the essence of this vile land, the cancer of Posuva.”

It's rare for us to be on the same page, Lyle.

"What a misfortune." [What a stroke of luck.]

Chapter 674 Shapeshifter

The edges of the parchment were blurred, only the approximate area marked by red crosses. Lyle squinted, staring intently at the map, trying to pinpoint their location from the blurry lines. Nia's tentacles rose like antennas, pushing aside the greenery above and letting in small patches of sunlight.

Lyle stood in the sunlight for three minutes before putting the map back into his bag.

"Did you find it?" Nia asked, crumbs of biscuit falling from her mouth as she lazily rested on Lyle's head.

"almost."

“Clyle said that an hour ago, while Nia was having her pre-lunch.” The hungry larva didn’t hold out much hope; she had already treated this as an excursion, her only concern being the amount of food in her backpack. Her tentacles slowly rummaged through Lyle’s small leather pouch, confirming the end time of the excursion. Three more hours; then, no matter what Lyle said, she would open the skeletal gate to return home.

“We must be inside that area; we just need to find a hidden entrance,” Lyle replied defiantly. The surrounding vegetation remained unchanged as he continued forward through the woods, from night to day. The sunlight brightened the forest, and faint rustling sounds emanated from the tangled bushes—a chorus of insects fluttering their wings. Looking down at his blurry shadow at his feet, it appeared like a hazy mist in the dim light.

"Any findings? An ominous sign."

As Lyle's alter ego, Omen is merely a ball of negative energy forced to cower in the shadows in the material world. Its primary ability is mental intimidation, that is, weaving illusions to frighten others. Omen is extremely perceptive of mental activity, which is advantageous for searching for "living things."

There's nothing there.

"Nia".

Lyle had to bow to Andre's abstract cartographers, using the most savage, carpet-like search to find his target. Nia swallowed the last salted biscuit, her body liquefying and falling into the tree roots. The tremors beneath his feet went from slight to violent, and Lyle gazed at the trees before him with a touch of regret, giving them one last look.

The sound was like the footsteps of a migrating herd. Tentacles, lurking in the soil, expanded into a massive circle, then shot up in an instant, like a raging swarm of snakes dancing wildly in the air, snapping roots, hurling soil, and whipping the air to shatter the uprooted earth into fragments. Berries in the bushes were crushed, the bright red juice from broken branches and leaves swallowed by the spilled earth. Nia, like a bulldozer, cleared a small patch of land, and the area continued to expand.

I just let her stretch out her tentacles to explore the way.

There's movement.

Nia's playful behavior triggered a new reaction. An ominous sign pointed to the sudden mental impulse in her mind: there were living things here, but something had disguised itself as an inanimate object, even disguising its thoughts.

Following his senses, Lyle looked in that direction. It was the side of a mountain, covered in dark blue moss and lush green ivy. Lyle paused, dismissing the idea that the omen was a mistake. Though somewhat unbelievable, the mountain wall in front of him had indeed just now given a thought to Nia's actions of destroying the forest.

Watching silently, Nia climbed back onto Lyle, her faint mental activity waning.

Lyle pointed directly at the mountainside, looking like a fool.

"Stop pretending, I know you're there."

There was no response, but the ominous laughter echoed in his mind, and that mental activity was growing stronger, like a thief caught red-handed, far less resolute than it appeared. Lyle picked up a rock the size of a duck egg, raised his hand, and made as if to throw it.

"Stop! Okay, you win, I concede!" A vibrant voice came from behind the mountain, then Lyle realized the voice wasn't coming from behind the wall. The moss on the rocks seemed to have grown legs, the rough rock texture twisted and moved like flowing water, swirling on the waist-high wall. In just a few seconds, the wall contorted and transformed, forming a giant human face. Messy ivy drew two thin eyebrows, the roughness of the rocks sculpted eyes, moss and mushrooms formed a mustache, and his mouth was a hidden rabbit hole.

The wall came to life, revealing a vast and clear sky above the sparse plant hairs. Hidden here was a secret realm, guarded by a living wall that could deform.

Excluding alchemical creations, they merely obey commands and lack any thought or activity; excluding flesh and blood creations, their limbs are twisted, modified, and deformed, and the souls they are filled with are chaotic. Faced with ominous signs, those souls either become stiff and lifeless like dolls or become abnormally active drop towers.

“Vilimullo…” Lyle racked his brains for knowledge. Vilimullo, also known as shapeshifters, are magical creatures commonly called mimics, doppelgangers, or substitute phantoms. They can transform into replicas of whatever they come into contact with, their disguises so exquisite they are almost identical. No one knows their original appearance; it is said that Vilimullo begin their shapeshifting the moment they are born and come into contact with air. Lyle was very excited because Mr. Dragon had mentioned this extinct species in his previous necromancy class.

Shapeshifters are generally considered extinct in the mystical realm. They do indeed possess incredibly long lifespans, capable of copying the memories, habits, and even abilities of others, and have an inherent tendency to change and replace them. No one likes to be replaced, and this wondrous species was ultimately hunted and exterminated. The Dragon Lord explicitly emphasized that shapeshifters are dark creatures; they invade the privacy of others, gradually devouring them until they eventually replace their original form. Nevertheless, the extinction of any creature would cause the lich to wail in despair.

Lyle stared at the unusually enthusiastic face before him, his vigilance rising to its peak. Dark creatures that survived the curse of Poswa, monsters that preyed on their enemies' weaknesses and ultimately wiped them out. Shapeshifters, creatures lurking in the shadows, making a living through cunning and intrigue, were the perfect scapegoats for Poswa. Moreover, their talents complemented his own; Lyle quickly connected this to the secret the reporter had mentioned that would help his advancement.

Shapeshifters can adapt to any race because they possess the innate ability to disguise themselves as others. This means that such a creature could even potentially replicate Lyle himself, even including the part that includes the evil god.

That would simplify the problem, Lyle swallowed.

Behind that light lies a mystery intertwined with his path to advancement. This secret realm is inhabited by a race of shapeshifters, possessing the talent to transform into anyone. Lyle's task is to join them, using himself as the template for the entire shapeshifter race, gaining the approval of his clones, and advancing to the fourth level of the Locked Realm. During this process, he must also be wary of these shapeshifters' attempts to assassinate him, preventing them from replacing him.

Lyle sighed, his memories returning to his old classroom.

"Professor Dragon, how do we deal with the shapeshifter?"

“We don’t need to deal with it, you idiot. This kind of magical creature is already extinct.”

"But what if? Maybe they're well hidden and we haven't noticed them."

"Just in case, kill him before Vilimlow fully understands you. During this time, he might try to approach you by transforming into someone or something around you. A perfect copy requires ample time. You might discover flaws in the process, but remember, never face Vilimlow alone, because you can't defeat yourself. It's best to have an ally, and one whose abilities aren't too far removed from yours. This will confuse Vilimlow when choosing a target to copy."

"What if you don't have any companions?"

Mr. Dragon paused for a moment, staring intently at the scaly scoundrel apprentice sitting next to his beloved disciple.

"Then you're in trouble. A perfect copy of Vilimro will know your weaknesses, and defeating you won't be much more difficult than me twisting your annoying head off."

Chapter 675 Paradise

"I am Wall Monster. As you can see, I guard Paradise." The big face in front of him quickly introduced himself. His ivy eyebrows were raised high, and Lyle couldn't tell whether it was excitement or anger.

paradise?

Lyle nodded. It was a breeding ground for shapeshifters; calling it a paradise wouldn't be an exaggeration. But this paradise was built in Posuwa—a paradise in Posuwa—which sounded completely different.

“I am Lyle, a lost traveler,” Lyle said with a squinting smile. The lie was somewhat far-fetched, but if it were a shapeshifter looking to copy and replace him, it probably wouldn’t have turned him away.

The wall monster quickly accepted the lie. He laughed, and the rabbit hole's mouth stretched to the sides, turning into a crescent-shaped crack. Several pebbles fell from his unsupported upper lip. It was eerie and terrifying.

"Ah, it must have been hard, in this forest where you can't see any difference. Your intelligence must have played a vital role in getting you lost. Ah, don't worry, my dear, you no longer need to worry about hunger and thirst, for you have come to paradise. We will help you, just as we would our father."

Lyle smiled outwardly, but wriggling tentacles crawled out from the cloak on his back. This fellow didn't expose the lie; instead, he blatantly succumbed to it, inviting me into paradise. Calling it help? A traveler who's made it this far in twelve hours—does he really need your help? Clumsy actor. Except for Lyle himself.

The wall monster shuddered, as if warming up after a long period of inactivity; its body arched upwards, the very tip rising two inches. "Dear traveler, I will let you in, but first..."

A dark gray hand rose from the top of the wall, stretching upwards. Lyle was highly alert, but the hand did not attack as expected. Instead, it continued to reach straight up, toward a leafy branch. The frail branch swayed precariously in the breeze, for a green-red apple hung on it.

"Just a little bit more and you're almost there," the wall monster laughed.

"But first, to commend your keen observation, I want to give you a little something to say when we meet... This is it, my dear."

An apple? Why? A poisoned apple? Lyle's wild imagination continued, but things took an unexpected turn. Just as the wall monster was about to reach the apple, the apple tree dodged. The branch with the apple clearly avoided it and never returned to its original position. The wall monster grabbed nothing; his hand still made a clapping motion in the air.

There was silence for a few seconds.

The wall monster's eyes moved upward, its eyebrows curved downward, and its flat body leaned slightly backward, revealing the strange apple tree.

"Mumu, I'm entertaining guests..."

The apple tree began to spin, its canopy as flexible as a snake vine, the changing bark forming a woman's face, and Mumu, with its natural height, looked down at its companion.

"Wall Monster, you can't use my fruit as a gift for your guest, that's extremely impolite!"

The shapeshifter, feeling wronged by its companion's criticism, narrowed its smile and muttered under its breath, "But he definitely prefers apples to moss or mushrooms. My whiskers were gnawed by bugs just days ago..."

Mumu's voice softened a little, and the drooping branches gently patted the bald head of the wall monster. "What matters is not the gift, but your sentiment."

“…Alright.” The wall monster sighed, reached out and grabbed the edge of its beard, pulling it off. It was a milky-white porcini mushroom. The missing piece of the mushroom-shaped beard made the wall monster’s rough face look somewhat comical, further diminishing its already unappealing appearance. “Please accept this unremarkable gift, my guest.”

Lyle silently accepted the wall monster's gift, and looking at the cratered mushroom head, he felt something was off.

"Thank you."

“Welcome to Paradise, my dear.” The wall monster’s face began to collapse, unfolding like a roll of bedding to reveal the paradise behind him. The first thing to see was a sunlit courtyard, with a winding pebble path in the center, a garden of low shrubs on the left, and a stream on the right, flowing from a deep valley of green mountains, dividing the paradise in two. Two red deer were drinking at the stream, seemingly undisturbed by anything. Lyle also saw a massive stone circle, piled high with boulders, just beside the solitary red-spired tower at the foot of the mountain.

Lyle could clearly feel that the moment the wall monster moved away, the park froze for a split second; even the wind seemed to stop. A red deer raised its head to look at Lyle, its small ears flapping up and down. Lyle met its dark eyes for two seconds. It lowered its head and resumed drinking, as if Lyle were just an ordinary tree.

Lyle stepped into the amusement park. The surrounding scenery was peaceful and beautiful, but he could feel the gazes; many pairs of eyes, hidden in the shadows, were watching him. The secretive surveillance made Lyle's hair stand on end.

Beside him, two branches drooped down, and the bouncy apple tree stood nearby. It was more slender than a normal tree, its branches about the thickness of a human arm, covered with green leaves, and each branch bore only one or two fruits.

The branch swayed in front of Lyle, as if greeting him, and hung a bright red, plump apple, like a huge gem, even more tempting than the one he had seen outside the wall. With each sway, the red apple teetered precariously. Lyle instinctively reached out to catch it, but just as he did, the stem broke off.

The tree-shaped shapeshifter named Mumu chuckled twice. "The Wall Monster isn't a fruit tree; it can't distinguish which ones are ripe and which are unripe. This one is the perfect gift for you, thirsty traveler. Welcome to the park; you are the first guest to arrive here."

"Thank you." Lyle felt the heavy fruit in his hand, and his mindset changed somewhat, but he remained vigilant.

"Nia." Black tentacles crawled out from her chest, and to Mumu's astonishment, Nia crunched down the mushrooms and apples; her constitution could withstand any toxins.

"It's delicious!" A joyful shout rang in Lyle's ears, and Nia shrank back into her clothes.

The shapeshifters here don't seem hostile; perhaps I'm just overthinking it.

"We can't let our guard down yet," Lyle thought to himself, as he prepared to continue his conversation with Mumu.

A slight dragging sensation appeared at Lyle's feet, and a hand stretched out from the grass he was standing on.

"What's that? Is it one of our companions, from outside the park?" A little man made of straw rope and flower wreaths popped out of the ground, lifted Lyle's trouser leg, and tried to bend down to look inside.