Academic gathering with Lich colleagues

Extreme Power: As the ruler of malice, Lyle can extract all the malice from a target and turn it into a flawed product that loves truth, goodness, and beauty, namely, a phantom.

The Power of Balance: As the manager of chaos, Lyle can neutralize the evil and good of a target, causing it to enter a chaotic state. The target is then transformed into a member of the divine race, the formless children.

……

The slightly comical voice was full of enthusiasm; in fact, it hadn't been this busy in a long time, opening and closing as deer, tree spirits, and birds came and went.

"Welcome, my fellow countrymen whom I have never met before! As you can see, this is the Old Paradise! I am the Wall Monster. When you are tired from your travels in Poswa, you can come back to rest. This is the original birthplace of our phantoms. What you see now is the Red Tower where the Lord of Phantoms once rested. Bow or remove your hat in respect. This is one of the few remaining historical sites in Poswa. Now, applaud yourselves, my fellow countrymen, you are about to write a new chapter for Poswa, the Phantom Paradise."

The wall monster roared, and even though ten phantoms transformed into megaphones, only one-fifth of its kin heard it speak. A large group of its kin, still in the early stages of development, were waiting for the inner circle to relay information.

In a corner of the park, several phantoms disguised as stones looked around nervously. They transformed themselves slowly, gradually approaching the hooded figure and staring directly at it. The phantoms, who were not good at smiling, could only show their respect with glaring eyes.

"Are you alright, ma'am?"

A sweet smile caused flowers to bloom on Phantom's body, and she raised her finger and gently waved it in the air.

“Fail. Don’t be so obvious about your goodwill when facing strangers for the first time. Humans are complex creatures, and you need to learn not to be so blatant and direct!” The girl shook her head, smiling as she rebuked the shrunken phantom. “Your lord hired me to teach you how to interact with humans, hoping that you will not disappoint your lord when you leave Poswa, this paradise that protects you.”

The phantom lowered its head, and its body transformed into a lost rain cloud.

"I'm sorry, Professor Rosa. I was just wondering if you feel lonely, since there are no people like you here. Humans have long since migrated outside of Paradise. Don't you miss your family?"

Rosa was still smiling, her eyes fixed on the azure sky, sunlight filtering through the leaves, and a warm breeze gently kissing her bangs.

"We can't dwell on the past; we have to look forward. They will live well, and I will pursue my own happiness. Do you understand?"

The phantom scratched its head.

"I don't quite understand, Professor Rosa."

“It’s alright, we have plenty of time to learn, Phantom… Jeremiah.”

Chapter 777 The Past

Due to its topography, this fjord remains shrouded in shadow, with moisture permeating the valley floor and a stench of decay in the air. The wind cannot penetrate such lush forests; catalyzed by humus, every blade of grass and tree seems to carry a primal venom. But there's no need to worry; it's not far from the estuary, and the slightly concentrated decay is harmlessly washed away by the ocean, leaving only a few reflective fragments of calcium in the rolling waves.

A closer look reveals a "footprint" on the seabed, where dead coral and seaweed seem to be strangling each other. Washed away by the current, black impurities rise from the fragments, resembling underwater flames. Following the trail into the mangrove forest, the number and size of the detached pieces increase; perhaps hermit crabs have learned to manage real estate, or perhaps swarms of barnacles have turned this place into a communal graveyard. The accumulated debris makes the already narrow waterways completely impassable.

Finally, you see that thing. Something that seems alive yet constantly dying. Even if you can withstand the mental shock and panic, it's hard to describe it in words. The surface rock is riddled with anthill-like holes, spewing out thick, black liquid with heavy breathing. Pieces crumble from the bottom, but their overall size doesn't change significantly. This one thing turns the entire bay into a poisonous pool. Even more terrifying, occasionally, yellow eyeballs with a scrutinizing gaze peek out from each hole.

The moment you're targeted, you can feel death creeping out of your body. Blood flows from your mouth and nose, your trachea is blocked, and you drown in the mud, becoming part of the fragments.

"Poor fellow." Reef sighed, turning his attention to the slender figure emerging from the jungle behind him. Soul flames burned inside the hood, and the flesh and blood clinging to the skeleton slowly rotted as he approached.

“Your time is running out, God Remains.” Arnoin laughed, his teeth clicking together. “Lyle is ready. You must make a choice before your ego completely collapses.”

A counterfeit, an accidental victim, Sheriu remained in his wretched state, struggling even to lift his head. The completion of the ominous sign became a signal: all the remnants of evil gods in the world began to align themselves with their respective sides. The flesh and power they had once swindled began to spiral out of control; they not only wanted to return but also wanted to take some interest. With the assistance of Professor Arnoin, the flesh and blood professor, the erosion of the personality named Sheriu was mitigated, transforming it into an invisible child beneficial to the main body, but it was also on the verge of collapse.

Sheriu opened his eyes, and in his vision, the Deep Sea Omen stood beside him, its soft tentacles entwining him, attempting to drown his personality in a sea of ​​consciousness. The distorted face of the Arnoin skull in the illusion seemed more human; at least Sheriu could sense the schadenfreude within it.

"Isn't this part of the plan? I hope you've got it all arranged, Professor."

Arnoin was somewhat dissatisfied with Sheriwu's attitude, but he didn't care much. He touched the flowing pus with fascination, placing the cruel choice before the blasphemer of fate.

"You stole the power of the evil god, which made you a sacrifice. That newcomer will not let you go. If you do not want to be absorbed and devoured, you must offer yourself to another being, the great creator, the sleeping Triton. It doesn't really matter which one you are devoured by, but offering your soul is part of our contract. Your short but sacred life has ended, Divine Remains. Now, begin to die for my Lord."

Her spirit was so fragile, as if she had returned to infancy. Sheriwu said in a flat tone, "I seem to have no other choice."

"Of course, now we are very close to His body, close enough that I alone can awaken Him, and whether you accept it or not is not important."

Sheriu paid no attention to Arnoin's statement that he regarded himself as a prop; his spirit drifted into the distance, into the deep darkness beneath the azure sky.

"The Supreme One unites all things; in His vision, all things are one. Planets are bodies, souls are flesh, and we will achieve eternity in His life... That feeling is truly beautiful."

Arno listened quietly. It was nothing; hearing his last words was a sign of the deceased's mercy.

……

"Mr. Astonishment, please wait a moment!" The vengeful spirit hovered at the very top of the tower, just a step away from the Tower of Souls. The lich from the literary society's call was superfluous, for Astonishment had already been waiting there for over ten minutes—enough time for a lich to climb from the first floor of Andrei Castle to the top. This impatient fellow had forgotten that Astonishment was a ghost more than ten minutes ago, and had fallen from the top through his spirit form.

“We’re compiling the ‘History of Andre Academy,’ you know, which is used to glorify the Dean’s past achievements in getting rich so that he’ll allocate more funding to us. But our investigation has revealed that we know very little about the past. Even before Andre Academy was founded, our knowledge of Dean Ogren Andre was completely blank. He was a master of enchanting, and that’s all we know.”

The lich blinked. "There are very few liches who participated in the founding of Andrei Academy these days, but you seem to be as old as this academy." Rubbing his fingers together, the literary society member smiled slightly. "The price is negotiable."

The astonishment didn't concern itself with the literary society's compensation, but the lich knew very little about Andre's past. The now-active and thriving society, with its powerful members including Mr. Scholar, Mr. Dragon, and even Mr. Raymond, all emerged after Andre founded the society. That gray history belonging to the old man also stirred up the vengeful spirit's memories.

Without embellishment, he recounted everything he knew with astonishment and detachment.

“Ogrien Andrei was once known as the Soul Reaper. He became a lich not because of a gruesome death, but through voluntary transformation. He was obsessed with collecting knowledge, even if it meant prying open the teeth of the dead. Hmm… this was when he was still alive…”

Completely oblivious to the pen dropped by a member of the literary society, they continued their conversation in astonishment under the silent gaze.

"The predecessor of Andre Academy was the Council of Scholars of Amor, a sorcerer organization that would stop at nothing to achieve its goals. Orgrim preferred interrogation to seeking knowledge; he would hunt liches and extract the knowledge he wanted from their skulls. This behavior became even more outrageous after he became a lich, because he learned to create soulstones to increase memory capacity. By extracting souls from corpses, some liches whose memories were taken would perish, while others would lose their memories. You have to understand, the headmaster at the time didn't have much compassion."

"He often wandered the battlefields and graveyards, occasionally creating a large graveyard with his own hands. The lich's evil reputation was not unfounded. Later... well... he found that actively plundering was inefficient; strong souls were few and far between, and the weak undead could barely even speak."

"So he joined forces with former members of the Amor Scholars Council to begin planning the construction of a lich academy, which was like... a leek cultivation farm. Andrei was thus founded, but his excessive focus on the weak made him lose his way, or rather, after letting go of his obsession with knowledge, he realized how empty he was. The students filled the void in his heart perfectly, and the sense of accomplishment from educating the strong was more delicious than the satisfaction of knowledge."

"Later, he met the scholar, the dragon, and Raymond. Under their influence, Ogren Andrei became the dean you all know, and Andrei Academy continued to expand under his leadership..."

The members of the literary society knelt on the ground, clutching their skulls in pain.

"How can we publish this! The old man used to be an executioner or some kind of serial killer. He was supposed to be taken away by the executive committee before he could even swindle the funding..."

The lich raised its head, its eyes gleaming.

"This is just your opinion. Even if it's true, I should interview the people involved, such as members of the Elmer Scholars Council. A respectable organization shouldn't be silent now. Mr. Surprise, do you have a list of names?"

"There aren't many left now. Besides me, there seems to be... a professor of necromancy named Arnoin, but he went mad later."

The lich opened its mouth wide.

"Why are there so few of you? There should have been quite a few members when Andrei was founded."

Mr. Astonished lowered his gaze and glanced at the dean's tower.

“Andre has never been the only leek-harvesting farm identified by Ogren.”

"How do you think I became a vengeful spirit?"

"How do you think he plays the nice guy? Because there's no one who hates him anymore."

Chapter 778 Blue Dragon's Work

On the other side of the mirror, the old, gloomy man stared at him, his dense wrinkles like knife marks. In the shadow of his wizard's hat, his pale eyes twitched unnaturally. Fingers parted his eyelids, his withered nails drawing ever closer to his pupils. No fear was shown in his eyes; his lifeless, inorganic gaze sent chills down one's spine. The headmaster rubbed his brow, but Lyle's human disguise failed to mimic the expression he desired.

Flesh and blood disguise is not a mask; it cannot hide the user's inner character.

"Perfectly embodying your true inner self, truly an excellent student." The dean forced an awkward smile and began selecting his favorite from the table; the old tricks always worked. A thick, fluffy golden beard, with cute little braids on either side, clung to his withered upper lip, concealing half his face. Looking at his suddenly imposing, warm, and sunny self, the dean narrowed his small eyes.

The old man's simple smile didn't last long. Ripples appeared on the silvery mirror, and the image began to blur. The reflection was limited to his entire head. With his hat and beard removed, the person in the mirror looked comical and unfamiliar.

"Anle, old friend," the dean greeted himself with a smile in the mirror.

“Anle, although we don’t want to see you, you didn’t give us the right to refuse.” The face tried to emerge from the mirror, but the thin mirror became a solid barrier, and no matter how distorted and ferocious the face in the mirror was, it was to no avail. The Dean gave a light hum, quite satisfied with his work. The Soul Reaper stuffed his prey into a container, and after fully absorbing their knowledge, he did not discard these remnants of personality, but hung them up, like the spoils displayed in the tower.

The dean used fragments of his enemy's soul to create a magic mirror for himself, a den of trash talk, and a false object to vent his emotions.

“The lich is digging into your past,” the person in the mirror said, but noticed that the dean’s expression didn’t change much.

"Then let them find out." The dean chuckled nonchalantly, rubbing his fingers together. "Being too concerned about the past will make you a product of time. I'm more worried about our companion who's been lost to the world."

“Arnoin!” the mirror screamed, her voice filled with jealousy and resentment. “He should be locked up with us! And the rest of the shock!”

The dean stroked his beard and recalled, "I knew he would go mad sooner or later. For someone who studies the knowledge of evil gods, death is the best end. He was a doomed fruit, but it's a pity we used to have so much in common."

The mirror's scream became even more piercing.

"You're the one who's ruined!! You've abandoned your original intentions, this academy should suffer the same fate as the Elmo Council!!! They should end up like us!!!"

The dean tapped on the jasmine carving on the left side of the mirror, causing a thick fog to rise and trapping their voices inside. The rare tranquility stirred the dean's desire to speak; he quickened his pace, muttering to himself as he looked at the blurry mirror.

"I even prepared a reservoir for him so he could play with his little seafood and let it fend for itself, but he ran away. Well, my encouragement for Lyle to contact him was indeed a test, but I didn't want him to cause me so much trouble."

"The arcane master of the City of Wanderings contacted me. He was involved in the fall of the City of Wanderings caused by the apostle of the evil god. A profound flesh-and-blood transformation array is engraved on the foundation of the City of Wanderings. I should have guessed it long ago. A single divine remnant could not have caused such a cataclysmic flesh-and-blood riot. Arnoin, you damned madman."

"One-tenth of the missing population, including all races, makes the densely populated city of Wanderings a veritable supermarket of all kinds. Now necromancers have an abundance of spellcasting materials, what a menace."

“I should harvest him immediately, if I find him.”

"Where are you, my old friend...where are you, where are you, where are you..."

He paced back and forth, whispering to himself; the only witness was a mirror.

……

In the tower of the Silver Royal City, in the city of wandering.

The scholar slid his finger down, and the water mirror that was suspended in the air evaporated out of thin air. He turned his head to look out the window, and the light of the Arcane Eye and his vision overlapped for a moment.

“Those flesh-transformation arrays… I’ve taken care of them.” Christo pushed open the door, and the blue dragon with silver hair streaked with crystal fragments looked at his mentor sitting in the chair. The topic engraved on the doorknob had taken him an extra five seconds, and the scholar’s ​​little trick made the blue dragon somewhat nostalgic.

The dragon priest nodded, pointing to the empty space in front of him, indicating that the students should take their seats. After a breath, the blue dragon sat upright in the crystal chair. He looked at his teacher, the scholar, who was propping his head up with one hand, his gaze still fixed on the view outside the window.

"It's good that you can apply your knowledge of spirit possession to other areas."

The scholar's encouragement made Christo shrug and wave his hand, indicating that it was nothing.

"Lyle didn't object to me visiting his lab and witnessing those incredible gadgets; unfortunately, I gained some insights."

"Is work in the dream world not so busy anymore? It seems like you've taken a long vacation."

"The program framework for the Dream Game is complete and running stably. After clearing those variables, maintenance is quite easy..." Christo laughed heartily, as happy as a child. "This means he's lost his inspiration and can't come up with anything new!" Christo's upturned lips proved his deep disgust for someone's sudden new idea.

The scholar calmly watched Christo's tail swaying from side to side, deciding against telling him about Lyle's recent situation. "Your senior brother went to level up, otherwise you'd be in trouble."

The poor child, I almost couldn't bear to disturb him.

“Very good, my student, now you have time to learn about your job.”

He was as stiff as a piece of crystal, his pupils contracted to slits, his body heaving unsteadily, and his humanoid magic nearly went out of control. Christo bit his lip, his words coming out somewhat hurriedly.

"My job? What have I been doing for the past six months? Managing the city, constructing dreams... You make it sound like I'm just playing around." I spent so much time getting up early and working late to complete the assignments you gave me, and now you're telling me these things won't be on the exam.

Christo was somewhat angry, but more so resentful of being kept in the dark. If the scholar had told him from the beginning that it was a side job, he certainly would have… spent more time consoling himself. What could the blue dragon do? This dragon priest was terrifying to dragons when he was angry.

The scholar didn't act too shamelessly. He patiently waited for Christo to finish venting, then gestured for his apprentice to retreat to his seat. He then reassured him, "Managing a city will hone your comprehensive thinking skills, while dealing with dreams... and interacting with Lyle will test your adaptability and patience. With careful consideration and tactful flexibility, these two qualities will help you better accomplish our real work."

“My arrangements are all for a reason, child.” Taking out a wine glass, the scholar personally poured wine for Blue Dragon. “You have always been my pride. Thank you for your hard work, Christopher.”