Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 813 - 754: Top Grade Consumables

A Spirit Summoner is a clan unto itself.

To endow inanimate objects with souls, allowing them to exhibit the vivacity disliked by the creator, to manipulate life-desecrating twisted creations, this is both the duty and arrogance of a Spirit Summoner. Coveting the power of creation yet unwilling to fulfill the responsibilities, the hollow bodies are dominated by chaotic wills, Lyches like Andrey, restless in their slumber, awaken from death. Defining the creator as dull, Spirit Summoners ignore the world’s rules, exploiting the divine loopholes.

That’s what the textbooks say, and Lyches who compile these textbooks assert it righteously.

The creator is a god of chaos, the rebellious gene forces the bloodline to abandon its roots and seek order, which is why today’s world is constructed with rules and regulations. Pursuing chaos is just, Andrey is simply a prodigal son stubbornly attempting artificial atavism.

Lyle scorned the words recorded by his colleagues, even laughing out loud when he saw the famous works of the literary society.

Tracing their origins, worshiping the Ancient God. These shameless scoundrels really do enjoy glorifying themselves.

Lyle didn’t believe a word of it, he even suspected that the repeated emphasis on their own "righteousness" by the Lyches was to evade someone’s laws.

Worship, a primal emotion that establishes hierarchy, is something Andrey despises.

Andrey, representing chaos, does whatever he desires.

While Mr. Raymond represents authority, he strikes whoever he wants to.

But that’s a divergence; in a word, Spirit Summoners are a fascinating type of caster.

"But, teacher, my clan, the Phantom Clan, is not my creation; they are born from a kingdom now extinct, a lineage that has been severed, a forgotten clan. Without the ability to reproduce themselves, even the pages recording related techniques are fewer than ten. How am I supposed to change such a clan?"

Born to serve, embedding life’s significance in sacrifice, a failed clan totally incapable of malice. The Phantom, as a clan, is undoubtedly a failure; existing clans are not meant for destruction.

"Oh, isn’t this a beautiful and rare clan, akin to ancient fossils? A buried history, a sealed clan. Lyle, you are truly lucky." The Father of All Dragons felt no difficulty, filled with excitement at making yet another great discovery. Lost techniques, a defective clan encountering its own disciple, represent just the right trials for improving Lyle.

From nothing to something, just like the earliest difficulties faced by the pioneers of Spirit Summoning Studies like the dragons. From being followers of technology to becoming leaders, the Giant Dragons have high expectations for Lyle’s actions.

Lyle was unaware of the dragon father’s thoughts, immersed in his worries about missing information, unable to see the conditions of the path ahead, leaving the young Spirit Summoner somewhat perplexed.

The Giant Dragon could indeed offer guidance, but this moment was not suitable. What the Father of All Dragons wanted to give was only moral support.

The noble dragon lowered its head, its large eyes intently looking at the tiny student, before Lyle could feel intimidated by the dragon’s pressure, the dragon’s voice was steady and gentle.

"You can do it, Lyle."

"I know my students inside out, I’m aware that your abilities are sufficient to connect any severed techniques."

"Ha, what exactly are you worried about? Is the Dragon King Priest, who alone brought the Giant Dragon Clan back from death, unable to save his own clan?"

Lyle kept his worried expression, and listlessly rebutted, "It’s different, teacher, the Dragon revival plan involved five Dragon Priests, including you, and others’ assistance, the Dragon’s lineage was never severed, it was much simpler."

Mr. Dragon snorted. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

"It’s as if without you, those old things could revive the Dragon Clan."

Lyle left the Dragon’s Nest in despondency.

...

Posuwa engulfed in war.

In the forgotten, isolated paradise.

A masked figure in black, donning a beaked mask, sprouted moving tumors from his back, the fleshy tumors densely covered with tentacles and eyes, resembling a twisted black sun. The Plague Doctor, holding a pristine bone knife, serenely and slowly sliced tissue from the twitching living tentacles, splashes of deep purple blood splattered on the mask, from which a pleasant humming emanated. The fragments that fell to the ground moved, those pieces didn’t last long independently, soon swallowed by the shadows under the robes.

"[You sometimes appear quite terrifying.]"

The shadows cleaned the ground very efficiently, somewhat surprised, complaining about Lyle. Not even a day after leaving the Dragon’s Nest, his mood completely flipped, relentlessly rushing to the Phantom Clan’s paradise to begin his dissection game.

Nia licked the tainted blood clean from her mask; the blood of her kind tasted sweeter than ice cream.

"I’m a real genius." Without even taking off his mask, you could imagine Lyle’s smug expression, "I’ve cracked the biggest challenge in Spirit Summoning Studies, capturing the master key of creation. Who would have thought... using the Intangible Son as the prime material for Spirit Summoning Studies!"

Lyle brought the Intangible Son into reality as a part of Nia’s body; they harbored an obsession to become the body of the Evil God, showing affinity towards Nia’s flesh. Nia hadn’t consumed these parasites infesting her, which Lyle was grateful for, granting him the chance now to operate on them.

The Intangible Son, remnants flowing from the body of the Evil God, possessed the ability to evolve and transform myriad worlds, arguably the most versatile material. They possessed near-divine omnipotence - immortality, malleability, and inclusivity. Even dismantled into debris, they wouldn’t die; any distortion or transformation would be sustained, embodying the source that embraced all laws.

The method Lyle thought of was simple, a process of elimination.

First, obtain the basic information of the Phantom Clan, create a rough structural model, then using the Intangible Son as the versatile cornerstone, continuously excise and remove "parts" that don’t conform to the Phantom Clan’s concept. By eliminating the redundant anomalies, the remaining part would be the correct answer. He then deduced the method from the results, re-creating the Phantom Clan’s craft. Although the method was crude, leveraging high-grade materials for miraculous outputs, the theoretical logic still held up.

Lyle’s race, the Phantom, was a rare lost group; they are fragile, and Lyle did not want his experiments to cause losses within his race. But it’s clear that initial knowledge was born from scars which is why Lyle faced obstacles everywhere at the beginning of his research—he hadn’t been unable to think of it, but had been afraid.

However, the Intangible Son is immortal. Lyle didn’t mind, and the already subjugated will wouldn’t resist their superior. Nia didn’t mind either, her position almost aligned with Lyle, although the cut was her own flesh. The Mental Synapses had been completely transferred to the subordinate neural system of the Intangible Son, Nia didn’t feel anything, only finding the flavor quite palatable.

No one would have thought that someone could use the servants of gods as experimental materials.

"[Snake], use [Mental Analysis - Reverse Thinking] on me once more, I will soon decode the structure of the Phantom Clan."

The gigantic Phantom raised its head, gazing sorrowfully at the head of the piece of the Intangible Son.

"Lyle, please be gentler with these unfamiliar companions." The harmless Phantom mistook the Intangible Son for its kind, just as it had initially misunderstood Nia.

Lyle smiled gently, "I am very gentle."

"It is screaming."

"That’s a cry of joy."