Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 816 - 757: Exile Rosa

"Do not hate, do not rage."

"Resentment is poison, anger brings disaster."

Inside the tent, a young girl held a rusty brass bracelet in her hands, kneeling and muttering on the ground. Under her hood, her eyes slowly opened, her amber eyes regaining their lively expression.

At that moment, the tent flap was drawn back, and a young man packed for travel quickly stepped forward. Seeing the girl’s eyes, his originally solemn expression eased significantly.

"Are you praying again, Rosa? You’re wasting your efforts."

Rosa wrapped the bracelet around her wrist and turned to pack her belongings.

"It’s not a waste, Jeremiah. The deity does exist. We were able to escape unscathed from the clutches of the blood-shadow demon; surely it was the deity’s grace. If not, everyone would have died because of my mistake." Rosa thought of the blood-red monster from a few days ago, that ominous nightmare that wandered the lands of Posuwa. As the guide, she had led everyone into hell; during those blood-drenched days, Rosa was immersed in guilt-ridden despair and prayer.

Jeremiah also recalled that tall, blood-red phantom, the tremor lingering in his fingertips, and Jeremiah changed the topic.

"We are leaving. I... my father is approaching us..."

Sadness filled Rosa’s eyes; she shouldered her bag, wearing the coat intended for a long journey, "Uncle Bradley, Jeremiah, you take over as the guide."

Jeremiah frowned; his knitted brows aged him a decade, shedding his youthful face for a more mature and reliable one. "Rosa, it was just one mistake. Everyone still trusts you. Don’t listen to the rumors; you have more experience than I do, and you are the best guide."

Rosa blinked, an involuntary smile appearing at the corner of her lips as she grabbed Jeremiah’s frantically fumbling hands and gently patted them.

"I’m not running away, Jeremiah. It’s just... I have a thought. I need to leave everyone and do what I can. Jeremiah, I need you to lead everyone well until I return."

"Where are you going?" The resistance in his heart made his voice a bit louder.

"I want to go to the place mentioned in that book. Maybe I can find some help there, something useful for us like potions or food, or even perhaps, a better future."

"You want to risk yourself for some elusive goal? Rosa." Jeremiah said with pain, "Our previous leader wouldn’t let you do this; we all want you to be safe."

Both exited the tent to see a barren land before them, the gaunt people around them with numb expressions, and the sky in the distance dyed gray by smoke. Rosa’s presence centered everyone’s gaze on her as she smiled sweetly, softly telling Jeremiah, "I never understood why everyone trusted me and my father, but I know I cannot betray that trust. Uncle Bradley said my father was royally once, which I used to think was absurd. But now, I believe it’s true, Jeremiah. It’s a sense of mission; I want us all to live better lives. Maybe, my bloodline can assist my adventure, after all, father did say Posuwa was once a place of magic."

Jeremiah let go of Rosa’s hand, his smile somewhat forced.

"You won’t let me follow you, right? I know I can’t persuade you; I am just an ordinary person."

"Everyone needs you more than me, Jeremiah. Wait for me to come back, Mr. Second-best Guide."

Jeremiah shook his head helplessly, fluttering the sensory bracelet on his right hand, "You can always find us; I will have people pray for you until you return safely."

Rosa looked at his departing figure, unable to resist advising, "Be safe. Your mission is more significant than mine; be careful."

Jeremiah shot her a look, "You too."

...

Lyle was watching Phantom’s transformation show. The Snake, along with her children, danced in the courtyard, their coiling bodies blooming flowers and fruits, their glossy parts being refined beeswax. The enormous body of the Snake did not disturb the meticulously groomed flowerbed, for all the flowers were a part of the surging tide alongside her. Dandelion seeds drifted midair, while bees and butterflies buzzed actively in the dance.

Lyle was caught in self-doubt. He hugged the restless and hungry Nia, communicating with the shadows under his feet.

"What was I doing just now."

[Teaching Phantom how to transform and battle using Intangible Son.]

"Ah, I remember." Lyle ignored the tentacles pushing hard against his cheeks, maintaining a calm expression on his twisted face. Unable to deduce the ritual of Phantom’s construction, Lyle had to find another way to enhance the strength of this race, such as letting them try to master battling skills. Not harboring malice does not mean they cannot harm; even an elephant can trample ants while strolling. In terms of racial value, Phantoms are not weak; their abilities are akin to a diminished version of God’s servants, the Intangible Sons. Transformation, integration, assimilation, and energy transfer are all considerable capabilities, which could produce formidable destructive power after a bit of coordination. Moreover, Lyle had seasoned teachers at hand—Intangible Sons, dissected countless times, are conscripted again; they and their hosts designed a destructive move called Destructive Storm together.

Intangible Sons transformed into free-moving base units within the vicinity, recombining at a rate comparable to a hummingbird’s wing flapping. The high frequency of splitting and combining inevitably brought along some other debris. After the dance, Intangible Sons grew a size bigger, indicating they were stuffed and needed digestion. Like nets opening and closing repetitively, they always caught something.

"Oh dear, how could you eat people while dancing?" "How careless can you be?" "Forget it, just be careful next time, no worries, you’re still a good child, just a mistake." Lyle had already thought of an excuse, the smirking tribal chief already knew how to console the hurt Phantoms.

Resultingly, the Phantoms maintained a grand and perfect dance. They stepped lightly, creating a storm at the center, skilfully avoiding every insect. Inside a purposely created meat grinder, blades and chunks of flesh coexisted harmoniously, leaving Lyle somewhat dazed, "How can this be empty? Are all you Phantoms skill masters?"

Lyle pinched the back of Nia’s neck and plucked out a consciousness unit of an Intangible Son.

"You assured me, this move Destructive Storm would be astonishingly destructive. I’m indeed quite surprised, unscathed."

The Intangible Sons also felt wronged.

"Great God’s Child, it’s just that this group of malformed freaks are unworthy of creation; they do not deserve to share your glory. Protecting others has become an instinct for these oddities, and this profound self-management has evolved them to a level we cannot comprehend. These inept beings, in order not to hurt others, indeed can do anything."

Lyle let go of Nia, who used all her tentacles to rush into the sea of flowers to enjoy her nectar and fruits, while the Snake deftly caught the frantic octopus, maneuvering each tentacle to avoid the flying insects, and embraced Nia like feeding a baby.

Lyle looked at the abandoned consciousness unit of an Intangible Son, about the size of a teacup, and came up with a new idea.

"The skills of the Phantoms are obviously much superior to you servants of God; why don’t you learn from them how to be unscathed."

The Intangible Sons resisted.

"That won’t do. Feeding is for accumulating strength to evolve, it’s a God-given instinct, not harming is to defy the divine decree, it’s asking me to die. To even give up the instinct of assimilation, might as well die."

Lyle let go of his hands, allowing the Intangible Sons to lurk back into his shadow, gazing at the courtyard’s merriment, and smiled helplessly.

"No rush, should head back to Naslan first. Let Vaul give up those refugees, at least show some respect to his mistress."

[Then the question arises, which mistress.]

"Shut up, my other self."