Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 545 - 499: Eldest Daughter

Lyle breathed a sigh of relief, but before he could complete a breath, his face twisted in agony. Blood streamed from the corners of his eyes and from his nose and mouth, spraying in the air and forming a vague cloud of blood mist.

Lyle was waging a war within himself, or to be precise, his two personalities were blaming each other for their inadequacies.

"How could you let him escape!!! Unbelievable, aren’t you the one who thinks you’re invincible, the future Evil God? Ominous, you allowed Gallaron’s soul to slip away!"

"He has Corruption Resistance; he can withstand my taint! It was just a slip, I am your other self, think before you hurl insults; don’t behave like a self-loathing weakling. Besides, I’ve already taken his life, and his soul has suffered a grievous wound; his strength has greatly diminished."

Gallaron entered the realm of Lyle’s soul and found himself in the same world as the fearsome Ominous. In the subsequent period that transcended the concept of time, Ominous used fear to continuously erode the antichrist’s soul. However, due to an oversight, Gallaron escaped, and remnants of blood fled that realm of fear. What was an extended period of torture condensed to less than thirty seconds in the real world.

"Your one mistake could cost me my life, and the blood of the antichrist is something I cannot oppose, Ominous, unreliable as ever!"

Malignant sludge covered the bloody traces on Lyle’s face; Ominous watched with a mocking gaze as the blood cloud coalesced.

"You are mistaken, as a member of the Butler family... I have already calculated everything." Tentacles lifted Lyle’s ragdoll-like body, and as they twisted and grew behind him, they resembled a lush, dense forest shielding his back. "Even just a remnant soul, Gallaron remains powerful but is no longer untouchable."

"Lyle, I’m not trying to motivate you; don’t get so worked up," Ominous teased, throwing cold water on Lyle’s emotions.

Gallaron’s blood had taken human shape, nearly identical to before except for a slightly diminished aura—which, relative to his previous might, still meant Lyle could be killed as easily by a meteorite as by a car.

"Lyle!!!!"

Gallaron’s roar sent tremors through Lyle’s body, possibly exacerbated by the squirming tentacles disturbing his stability. Panic seized Lyle; in Gallaron’s mind, he had probably taken Ralph’s place.

"Die!"

Foregoing any further trash talk, a blood-red spear flew at Lyle’s forehead with Gallaron close behind; his blood wings transformed into a pair of enormous, sharp claws as if wanting to cradle Lyle in his palm.

The tentacles maneuvered Lyle’s head, aiding him to dodge the spear by a hair’s breadth; the wildly growing tendrils snapped at it like a vast maw. Although agile, the tentacles lacked hardness and were torn to shreds by the bloodied claws.

Now immobile, Lyle faced the furious Gallaron as darkness in his eyes intensified.

"Fear descends."

Gallaron’s figure twisted momentarily, a gash split his upper body from the crown of his head to his waist; his damaged spiritual power no longer sustained his human form, but his bloodied claws slashed viciously. Gallaron cast aside all concern for his appearance, focusing his spiritual power solely on the thought of killing Lyle—a murderous intent surpassing Ominous’s mental intimidation.

"I’ve done what I had to," Ominous’s voice echoed in Lyle’s mind.

As the crimson tide drew closer, Lyle felt a touch of helplessness.

"So should I be saying my last words now?"

"I wasn’t speaking to you, Lyle," Ominous controlled Lyle’s pallid lips, a clear voice of the soul reverberating through space, crisp as a stream.

"Gallaron is too powerful; you can’t handle him, but someone can."

"Am I right, madwoman, my disgustingly dutiful Supervisor?"

A hand as pale and sculpted as stone reached out from behind the tentacles and rested atop Lyle’s head.

"I prefer you call me Guardian, dear Ominous."

A cool and soothing touch spread from the white arm to his mind, a soulful comfort Lyle had never felt before.

"Lyle is mine! Fallen Soul, yield to your death!"

The voice belonged to a woman, imperious and indulgent, compelling an involuntary reverence.

Her voice was like the poison of the soul, causing consciousness to become lost in allure.

"Beatrice?" The familiar touch, the feeling of an embrace, allowed Lyle to guess instantly to whom the enchanting body belonged. However, a deeper sensation, an intuition, was telling him that her true self was someone else, someone both familiar and yet a stranger to him.

"Close your eyes, Lyle."

Before the burst of light, Lyle saw an image.

It was a delicate and beautiful clavicle, with a white creature that resembled both a dragon and a snake, its eyes glowing as it coiled around the woman’s neck, flicking its serpent tongue.

She opened her eyes.

Lyle couldn’t sense what it was, a light, an ineffable form of energy, a lethal mental onslaught, or perhaps all three. He only knew that everything was over.

About ten seconds after the explosion of light, Lyle could only feel a vague concept; he dared not sense the surrounding magic power, as if everything around was "poisonous."

Not until his body conveyed a sense of touch, being embraced by someone, did the comfort on the soul become addictive. It was a pleasure beyond all others, like floating in warm and sunny clouds or merging into a clear stream, flowing into the ocean, sinking into a tranquil darkness without light.

This comfort was unforgettable.

"I remember this feeling. A few months ago, I was embraced like this too. In the Duke’s Mausoleum of Naslan, it was you who carried me out."

The gentle voice carried an air of confidence as a matter of course, maybe with a hint of joy as well.

"I understand, I always leave a deep impression on people, but I’m still glad, Lyle, that you remember that time."

Lyle’s eyes remained shut tight, but his head still turned towards the sound.

"What should I call you, Medusa or Helena?"

"Either is fine, little Lyle." Helena stroked the scars on Lyle’s cheek, a numbing sensation covering the pain. "After all, Helena Naslan is my name, but Medusa can be our little secret, like a term of endearment."

Helena was nowhere near as composed and dignified as when she was in the Naslan Castle; she gave off the same vivacity as Beatrice. It was unclear whether she’d been influenced by Beatrice or not.

"Not at all, this is my true self. I stayed demure at home because being in that statue, I couldn’t do much."

Lyle was taken aback for a moment.

"That’s right, my little boy, I can read minds. Helena Naslan is a master of soul studies, skilled at interpreting others’ thoughts, let alone yours, which is as pure as a blank sheet." Helena seemed regretful, her fingers sliding over Lyle’s face as though bringing the same chilling touch Medusa once had. "If I could, I’d really like to seal away the Ominous forever..."

"Roar!" A soft protest roared within the soul.

"You’ve been observing me..."

"Of course, you are the boy beloved by all my sisters; I deeply cherish my family, and I had to see if you were worth it..." Helena chuckled softly, half-jokingly saying, "Congratulations, little Lyle, you’ve successfully won the affection of the Naslan sisters."

Lyle’s suspicions turned into certainty.

"Including you..."

As Helena’s laughter poured into Lyle’s ears like honey, and just before his consciousness succumbed to the sweetness, Helena gave her answer.

"Of course, I am the eldest daughter of Naslan."

"The eldest meaning the first."

"I am always the first."