Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

The majestic, ferocious body stood erect, unlike its usual reflection in the water. Black slime seeped into every scale. Its mouth still held prey, but the lazy, writhing tentacles entwined around its jaws had already taken over its head. The black-robed human, who should have been crushed by its own attacks long ago, now gripped its proud horn with one hand, its body dangling beside its left eye, its boots pressing against its cheekbone, its body pressed tightly against the earth dragon's head. Pale skin clung to scales, and Lyle smiled mockingly. His puppet, imbued with a deep-seated magic, controlled it like a deadly tumor, holding the entire behemoth's life in its grasp. It looked resentfully at its prey, a cold, twisted skeleton, its eye sockets burning with the same soul flames as Lyle's. With its head, still clinging to shattered flesh, it revealed a terrifying smile, waving at the earth dragon's detached consciousness.

It was all an illusion; the prey became the hunter.

Fear, unease, and complex emotions began to take hold of the earth dragon's consciousness.

"The new discovery suggests that low-intelligence souls will be incorporated into the mental network, sharing knowledge and forcibly enhancing their intelligence."

Lyle moved his wrist, which had been touching the earth dragon's body, his fingers wrapped in black magic threads. As his fingers moved, the earth dragon's body rapidly collapsed, like a sandcastle crumbling. Joints snapped, nerves tore, flesh shattered, and the earth dragon deflated like a punctured balloon. The evil god's larvae looked relaxed and carefree, not even glancing at the corpse after releasing it.

“Bringing the scraps of meat back to Andre might give rise to a production line for alternative materials for dragon mysticism. But let’s forget it, it’s too much trouble.”

Nia burrowed back into Lyle's back, patting her lower abdomen as if trying to remove the stench of decaying corpses, until the ominous sight crept up her spine and swallowed the odor with a shadow, only then did she stop.

"I never thought hunting was a wrong act; taking away the power of life is the justice of survival."

Lyle slowly turned around, the indifferent human expression overlapping with the grinning black shadow—an ominous sight, and Lyle's spiritual resonance with it, undoubtedly the most terrifying spectacle. The master of the mental network once again focused his attention on this prisoner known as "Earth Dragon."

Under the constant, turbulent mental pressure, it couldn't even utter a sound, and could only tremble as it listened to his "thoughts."

"But you have to bear the consequences, even if you don't understand the risks beforehand, you still have to pay the price for the hunt."

“This is not fair to you, so I have dragged your spirit into the web of illusions, so that you may understand my thoughts through my mind, witness higher levels of wisdom, taste the joy and satisfaction of victory, and moisten your parched spiritual desert. I think this is a form of mercy.”

Lyle observed the removed soul, the precise scalpel of psychoanalysis perfectly slicing it from the body condemned to death. From the depths of his heart, a trace of self-reproach and guilt surfaced in Lyle's eyes.

"With the awakening of your intellect, you have learned joy, and with it, fear... Your soul is filled with fear, and the compassion I envisioned has only made you experience a more terrifying cruelty. You were originally a happy, simple earth dragon who didn't need to think about these things, but now you cower in a corner of my soul's network, groveling and begging for mercy without any dignity... I'm sorry, I have distorted your dignity. Because you know, you are humble; because you understand, you are vulnerable."

"Don't worry, poor little one, you will never get hurt again. There will be no fear, and I will give you peaceful and sweet dreams of plenty."

"And you will never wake up."

Erasing a spirit is much easier than destroying its physical body; for an omen, it's as easy as breathing.

"I don't need to breathe; you should use a different analogy."

Ignoring the ominous warning, Lyle stared as the earth dragon's bodily fluids seeped into the soil, and some ominous black aura crept up his body along the shadows.

"This earth dragon, does it really not know how conspicuous it is when it's lurking under the soil?" The moment Lyle stepped onto the cliff, he discovered the earth dragon's tracks. The malice of the gods that clung to it shone as brightly as a lighthouse in the darkness.

It is our talent to perceive God's malice; to ordinary life, these are merely slightly dark dust particles.

The malice emanating from the earth dragon intertwined with a small amount of malice that Lyle originally possessed. In Lyle's perception, he had become the darkest thing within a ten-mile radius. Even after scaling the high walls, the malice of the gods remained. The exiles would not escape the curse of their homeland; no one would save them.

They chose you, to become the new demon of Posuva, the lord of this war-torn land.

With a flick of his sleeve, the malice that had clung to him fell away like ripe fruit, and God's malice returned to the earth. Lyle snorted coldly, his tone full of disdain.

"Posuwa, I only care about illusions."

"As for these, let them fend for themselves."

Chapter 771 Singing a Different Tune

He gently moved his fingers, swaying them up and down. The unexpected freedom excited the owner of those fingers. His whole body began to tremble, bone fragments began to fall off, and a black aura burned like flames, rising from the white ground. He crawled out, on all fours, arms raised, his murky pupils scanning his surroundings, filled with excitement and agitation! He immediately stuck his fingers into his throat, carefully prying out the bones and joints bit by bit. His airway was completely clear, and the others began to kneel on the ground, gagging. He roared to the sky, his hoarse throat singing a song of freedom and liberation.

The wall of bones has crumbled, and the fallen demons have gained precious freedom. They crawl out of the collapsed piles of bones, their eyes sweeping over the white fragments with a human-like fear. Malice has once again seized their souls; guided by the malice deep within the earth, the demons begin to move, surging like a pack of wolves towards the ranks of exiles. They fear not getting lost; in this cursed land, the exiles untouched by malice are as conspicuous as white stains on a stained sheet. Assimilating them, spreading the blessings of the gods, the fallen demons have resumed their hunt.

"The villains always have to be part of the climax of the story; a story without ups and downs isn't exciting."

Lyle hummed the Song of the Dead, releasing the skeletal army from their control. They turned to dust, freeing the imprisoned demons. "They need to see the danger, to make those exiles realize the help of the phantoms. Once they've built the bridge, crossed the cliff, and escaped the demons' pursuit at the last second, they'll be eternally grateful to my people. They'll be so happy."

Dark thoughts lurk within your indulgence.

Lyle smiled at the accusations of the ominous sign, like a cheerful but somewhat naive young man, uttering blunt, cold words, "They've put my people in danger, morally blackmailing me. Why should I give them a friendly face? Isn't it more fun to scare them and make them scramble to escape?"

The phantom may be injured.

"Scars are a form of growth."

In reality, Lyle harbored resentment over the Phantom's previous support for Rosa instead of himself; dark thoughts arose with malice, but did not disappear with it.

Lyle greeted the wall monster Mumu cheerfully, squatted on the steps of the Red Tower, and sank into the phantom network, listening to their laughter and chatter, constantly radiating his own negative energy, commenting and criticizing, and then muting his microphone.

"This joke is not funny at all. It's one of the three lame jokes that the Stonemason likes to tell the most."

[You taught him that Cassandra's corny jokes are unlikely to resonate with normal people.]

"These exiles have extremely low levels of education and culture. I don't know what's so hard to understand about this."

Those involved are often confused, while bystanders see things clearly.

"I can't stand it anymore! What's wrong with these two little bosses? They clearly like each other, so why are they testing each other? And this Jeremiah is acting all melodramatic and full of bitterness and resentment. It's really... I can't stand it."

"Are you going to keep doing this stand-up comedy with me until they come back?"

A sense of dread and disgust rushed into Lyle's mind, and the bitter almond-like taste made him exit the phantom's mental network.

"You don't like chatting with me?" To be honest, Lyle was quite hurt, because his entertainment methods were considered high-end entertainment for the Andrei liches, who couldn't come up with many jokes when they were stuck in their coffins.

If you're truly anxious and bored, looking for something to talk about to distract yourself from your worries about the phantoms, I suggest you immediately run over and spy on them, instead of using the few humors the Bühler family possesses to torment me. Please don't forget, I share a brain with you; I don't need another voice repeating tired, familiar jokes in front of me.

Lyle clutched his chest, staring sadly at his shadow at his feet.

"I thought we were close friends who could talk about anything. I never imagined you would see me this way."

Haven't you realized how tragic it is to befriend yourself? My existence is a destiny, a duty. My being is to declare to the world that Lyle Bühler, as an individual, possesses a wise and mysterious side.

I don't want to be too harsh...

If I had a choice, I would choose to be an eight-year-old-aged tentacle monster with the mentality of only needing to think about basic survival.

Hungry Half-Body raised its head, and Nia chewed on the burrito it had brought, making a muffled sound: "Is Lyle talking badly about Nia?"

We're saying Nia is the cutest, and we all want to be like her.

"Hmph, Lyle only needs to be Lyle! Nia isn't so easy to be!"

Nia's tentacles retracted, and Lyle met the gaze of the shadow that had looked up.

Do you now understand how severe our self-loathing is? We all see ourselves as that flawed version of ourselves.

"Same to you." Lyle retorted confidently, referring to his daughter who only knows how to eat and his severe case of chuunibyou (middle school syndrome).

The ominous sounds subsided, and Lyle's will reached a certain level of integration, or perhaps he simply felt it was foolish to argue with himself. In any case, Lyle realized that his sense of belonging to his people made him constantly preoccupied with the phantom of the distant journey, even affecting his thought processes.

“I can’t interfere with them. They are adults and have the freedom to think and act as they please… Are the Phantoms adults? Never mind, I shouldn’t be watching over them like a babysitter…” Similar struggles echoed in Lyle’s mind. It felt like being excluded from an academic gathering jointly organized by the Séance School. This sense of loss kept Lyle silent in the Phantom Network.

"There won't be a next time." He comforted himself with the excuse that it was impossible, conveying his concern to the phantom in exile.

"We need to block out the Phantom Network; we can't let complicated emotions interfere with them."

Thinking this, Lyle cleared his mind and fell silent.

Chapter 772 The Fall

"They're coming! Quicken your pace! Phantom, please help the elderly and children!" Jeremiah's shout became the loudest alarm, shattering the leisurely atmosphere. He rushed to the back of the wagon laden with heavy supplies and, together with Phantom, pushed the wagon forward quickly.

Not far away, a burning black wave rose from the undulating horizon, cascading down the slope, their chaotic footsteps echoing across the desolate land. The demons had arrived, bringing with them flames and the stench of blood. The surging black mist distorted and blurred the air around them, and the crowd became a veil of overwhelming terror. The exiles, their arms trembling, gripped the straps of their packs, turned their backs on death, and fled through gritted teeth.

"Stay calm! This isn't the first time we've encountered these bastards! Control your pace! You'll exhaust yourself if you push too hard!" One has to admire the stamina of these guides; they can shout at the top of their lungs while keeping the group moving forward. Among the exiles, only the guides' voices are heard. Even the initially flustered Phantom senses the urgency in Rosa's loud voice and regains his composure.

"We're almost there, it's right in front of us."

The jagged cliff tops looked like they'd been chewed by a dog, with sparse, yellowish leaves peeking out and coming into the exiles' view. What should have been a barrier of despair had become a source of hope for everyone. Their eyes were filled with the will to survive, and they placed their expectations on the phantom.

Without pausing, the swarms of phantoms began to transform thirty meters from the cliff face. They clung to three large phantoms, with birds, flowers, and schools of fish stretched into colorful, tentacle-like strands that coiled around their bodies. The large phantoms crouched in place, their arms reaching towards the cliff top, stretching and extending into a ladder of earth, stone, and building blocks. The exiles were lifted aboard, their smaller phantoms forming a mobile outer layer, acting as a conveyor belt.

Unfortunately, the Phantoms, having lived in Paradise for so long, hadn't learned much about mechanics or transportation like gears. They were like beings living in a fairytale, only able to accomplish their imagined tasks using crude cables. This was inefficient, but with the entire Phantom race working together, they could barely manage to lead everyone over the cliff before the Fallen Demon bit its tail.

But few realized this; the exiles only saw the slow pace of their journey and the demonic figures closing in behind them. Fear, dread, and dark thoughts slowly rising from the depths of their hearts.

Why are they blocking my way?

Why aren't they moving forward?

They're definitely safe now, but I'm not!

Every time we encounter these monsters, we suffer casualties, and this time will be no exception!

Why am I at the back of the line?! Am I going to be the one who gets killed this time?!

No! I don't want to die! Why should I die for your survival? We're all the same!

I want to get to the front! I want to get to the front! I want to get ahead of everyone! I want to survive!!

Exiles wouldn't normally ponder these things; the hardships of their wanderings have numbed their souls, leaving their fate in the hands of a true guide. But now, they want to take control of their own destiny, even though reality proves that some are simply not suited for it. The flowers of their souls, nurtured by the gentle illusions, begin to wither along with their decaying roots.

Crowded and noisy. Faced with death, humanity lost its order and reverted to chaos. They abandoned their community, their fellow countrymen were now complete strangers, and newcomers kept bumping into the procession, the guide's shouts were of no use.

"Watch out!!" It was a guide carrying a heavy backpack. She had spontaneously stood at the edge of the line to maintain order, but unexpectedly, she was pushed out by her chaotic compatriots. Her body fell ten meters into the air, her bewildered eyes looking back at the chaotic crowd.

A vine shot out and caught her, wrapping around her waist.

"I caught her!" A relieved Phantom breathed a sigh of relief, but the original spot was already crowded. So, in the relay, Phantom placed the woman at the top of the line. Phantom's thinking was simple: she had encountered an accident, and we should ensure her safety. Our ultimate goal was to reach the cliff, so let's get her there first.

The exiles didn't see it that way; all they saw was someone cutting in line.

Why can she go to the front?! I can too!

A sense of crisis fueled his inner madness; the second person jumped off the bridge himself. He prayed as he fell, and when he saw the extended tendrils successfully grab him, he looked at his fellow countrymen and gave a mocking smile.

The order that the guide built with his life has completely collapsed.

"More people are falling! Protect them!!"

"Too many!! We need more people!!"

"No! That would threaten the stability of the siege ladder!!"

"We can't abandon them!! Please!! Stonemason! Please hold on a little longer!!" The lower structure began to be pulled to the top, and in order to protect more people, Phantom abandoned his companions.

In the Phantom Network, their hearts are connected, their relationships are closer than ever. Their will, their trust, and their kindness led them to choose to help more people and to entrust the burden to their compatriots who are struggling to survive.

【River Princess】is the first great phantom to begin shaking. Her original form is flowing water, but she lacks the ability to transform into solids. Shaking becomes the death knell for the exiles, and these cowardly rats, fleeing their pursuit, bare their fangs in the face of truly delicious cheese.

"Get out of my way! I want to live!!" Pushing aside the obstructing baggage in front of him, completely ignoring his fellow travelers who were being dragged down, he rushed forward, reaching out to the light and stability.

"Cough! Ha... Crack... Ahhhhh..." He clutched his throat, stood still, and howled in pain.

Evil begets evil, and Posuwa is particularly sensitive to evil deeds.