Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 572 - 525 Demon Reinforcements

"Manipulator, fetch me a bowl," Lyle said assuredly, gazing at the trail of white smoke remaining in the air, as he made arrangements for the recently repaired Necromancer Figure Club.

"Sure thing, Plague Doctor boss." The Manipulator took out a metal bowl from the storage bag, one he had purchased in the City of Machinery.

Lyle glanced at it, his indifferent expression twisted slightly, and he sneered, "A sea bowl, huh..."

The Manipulator’s cold, fleshly disguise was like being covered in frost.

"This alloy is quite rare, so I picked the biggest one of them," he explained.

"It will do, set it down a bit lower."

Lyle reached out his arm, and Nia’s hooked tentacle drew a wound on his pale skin, the blood trickling down, filling the bowl just over halfway, appearing to be a small clump. The cut on his arm began to twitch, as the plague sewed up the wound, and several wriggling, tiny tentacles burrowed into the scab and vanished from sight.

Lyle let his sleeve fall back into place, meeting a peculiar, shining gaze head-on.

"Boss, you’re not going to fill it? Being a bit stingy?"

Lyle felt the urge to dismantle him, but his mechanical mind suppressed the secretion of adrenaline.

"Volume is meaningless, this much will suffice as a medium. And the flesh..."

Flexibility was quick to react, handing Lyle a small device that resembled a flashlight; he pressed a button, and with a click, a bright, blinding light blade shone even brighter than an incandescent lamp.

"Damn it... Light Sword..."

"Use this, boss, it saves effort."

Lyle took a deep breath, ignoring the Liches’ eager to please gesture.

"Nia."

A tentacle as thick as the mouth of the bowl fell into it, turning into a writhing lump of black flesh.

"The three of you, along with everyone else, retreat and leave the range of the City of Machinery. I will inform you of further instructions through the Ring of Andrel."

"What is the purpose of this bowl of blood and flesh?"

"You will find out afterward."

On this side of Delusion, he was also communicating with SS.

"You and the others retreat too. If the Liches need assistance, help them with all you’ve got."

"And what about you?"

"I will stay in our city, facing Dorothy with Lyle."

"I can stay; I am a machine life, the Genesis Ray won’t harm me, and it will even cause me to evolve."

"...You must leave; that is an order."

SS shrugged, the metallic shoulder plates moving up and down with a loud clashing sound.

"Your last order was not to enter the pyramid..."

SS’s retort caused Delusion’s virtual expression to tremble for a few seconds, his profound eyes projected, glaring at SS, closing and opening, betraying a life coach’s sincerity.

"It’s not time yet, SS, you are not ready. Just this once, please, I beg of you, stay away from this city."

SS’s goggles reflected the lights and shadows of "Delusion," as if his expression was in sync with Mr. Delusion.

"...Make a pact with me, mentor. After this crisis is over, you can’t refuse my evolution anymore."

"...Okay."

In the end, Necromancer Figure Club, carrying Lyle’s flesh, and SS evacuated together, while Lyle and Delusion headed to the streets.

The surface-glowing silver-white metal broke through the underlying growth, cutting through each plane like chaotic giant bamboo shoots. The City of Machinery had changed its appearance; no more than ten square meters of ground could be seen—it had become three-dimensional, transforming into a huge cage. Climbing was now more efficient than running, so Mr. Delusion transformed directly into a four-legged mechanical beast, nimble like a jungle panther, only this panther was lost in a metal jungle.

The dramatic change in the terrain was one aspect, but more importantly, Delusion had guided all the Executors to disconnect and enter their own local networks to avoid Dorothy’s command codes regaining control of the Executor models.

"Being disconnected is truly painful." Delusion’s mechanical claw tapped the surface of the silver-white metal column. Inside the frosted glass alloy, the data network was visibly clear—an easily connectable mechanical network that Dorothy laid out throughout the entire city, which also served as her eyes. "I miss those Teleportation Gate Mages."

Lyle climbed over the obstructing columns, "I’ve already received the map of ’The Nest’. Dorothy is proceeding according to the original plan—that’s good news. Come on, Mr. Delusion, I need to do something to increase our chances of winning."

Delusion followed Lyle’s steps, his sharp claws digging into the sloped surfaces with each pull, shredding some data—a nearly futile destruction, since it could be restored in just over ten seconds.

"I have to remind you, Lyle, that Dorothy is smarter than any supercomputer you’ve known, no, that you can imagine. She’s not a rigid piece of machinery, and you should be prepared for her to change plans. This is her home field. The best way to defeat artificial intelligence is to exploit its BUGs, though I’m not sure whether Dorothy, who has evolved many times, has such flaws."

A smile played on Lyle’s lips as his steady and mature voice echoed in the transistor forest, "Don’t worry, Mr. Delusion, I have integrated the Creator Code—I am quite confident."

Lyle led Delusion to their destination. Despite the drastic change in scenery, the several ancient black and red stone pillars were firmly nailed in the midst of the silver-white metal, like an unyielding giant bound by chains, just like its kin.

Black Abyssal Demons.

After several leaps, Lyle landed beside the demon in the suit.

"Lord Lyle." Fema Black Abyss and her mechanical demon guards did not evacuate with the main forces, but stayed around a few Hell’s Nails. Hell’s Nails are the anchor points connecting to Hell, allowing demons to return there at will; even if they die, their souls would regenerate in Hell.

"Fema, if you want to retreat, you’d better open the Hell Portal quickly. Because soon the magic here will solidify, and your demonic spells won’t last much longer, will they?"

Fema nodded, receiving the information. Her smile of gratitude flashed like a camera’s light for a moment before the calm Black Abyss Princess surveyed Lyle.

"You look, a bit different, Mr. Lyle."

"Different how?"

"More like a Prince of the Black Abyss."

"Thank you for the compliment. In fact, I do want to exercise the power of a prince for a bit, if Miss Fema doesn’t mind."

A knowing expression appeared on Fema’s face. Her palm slapped down on Hell’s Nail, and black and red demonic energy surged to the sky, shattering the metal pipes squeezing it. The massive Hell Portal let out a loud hum, and the Black Abyss Princess’s voice echoed among the demons.

"My warriors, now we have two choices before us. One is to return to Hell with your new powers..."

"Or to offer your feeble lives to the Prince of the Black Abyss."

"Black Abyssal Demons, what is your choice!!!"

The frenzied roar filled with the scent of blood resounded through the quiet mechanical jungle.

"Fight!!!"

"Fight for the Prince of the Black Abyss!!!"

"Fight for Lylethos!!!"