Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 830 - 771: The Past

Due to the terrain, this fjord remains in the shadows, with mist pervading the valley floor and the air carrying a stench of decay. The dense forest prevents the wind from entering, and under the catalysis of decaying organic matter, every plant seems to be imbued with primal venom. But worry not, the sea’s mouth is not far from here, and the concentrated decay is trivial under the ocean’s rinsing, leaving only some reflective calcium fragments in the tumbling waves.

Upon closer inspection, one notices a "footprint" lingering underwater, where dead corals and seaweeds seem to strangle each other at the seabed. Under the water’s washing, black impurities continuously emerge from the fragments, reminiscent of flames burning underwater. Following these traces into the Mangrove Forest, the number and size of falling fragments increase. Perhaps the hermit crabs have learned real estate investment, or the barnacles treat this place as a communal graveyard. The accumulated remnants clog the already narrow water channel.

Finally, you see that thing. The thing that seems still alive yet continuously dying. If you can withstand the panic caused by the mental shock, you’ll find it hard to describe in words. The superficial rocky skin is full of anthill-like holes, spouting thick, dark fluid with a heavy breath, and chunks fall off from the bottom without much change in overall size. Because of this one thing, the entire bay becomes a toxic pool. Even more horrifyingly, occasionally, from the holes, a pair of yellow eyeballs with scrutinizing gazes peek through, from every hole.

The moment you are targeted, you can feel death crawling out from within. Blood oozes from mouth and nose, the airways blocked, smothering to death in the mud, becoming part of the debris.

"Poor fellow." The rock sighs, shifting its attention to the slim figure emerging from the jungle, its hood flickering with soul fire, the flesh and bones clinging to the skeleton decaying as it approaches.

"Your time is running out, Divine Corpse," Arnold says with a smile, his teeth clicking crisply, "Lyle has made preparations. Before your self completely collapses, you must make a choice."

A counterfeit, an unlikely sacrifice, Serio maintains his miserable state, struggling even to raise his head. The completion of the bad omen becomes a signal, the remnants of all Evil Gods in the world begin to take sides. The flesh and power once deceived start to lose control; they not only want to return but also a bit of interest. Under the help of Blood-Flesh Professor Arnold, the erosion of Serio’s personality is mitigated, but it’s also at the verge of collapse.

Serio opens his eyes, in his sight, the Deep Sea Omen stands beside him, wrapping him with its soft tentacles, attempting to drown his personality in the spiritual ocean. Arnold’s skeletal face, twisted in the illusion, looks more humane, at least Serio can taste the schadenfreude in it.

"Isn’t this all part of the plan, I hope you have everything set up, Professor."

Though slightly displeased with Serio’s attitude, Arnold does not say much, fondly touching the oozing pus, placing the cruel choice before the blasphemer of fate.

"Stealing the strength of an Evil God has made you a sacrifice, the newcomer will not spare you. If you don’t want to be absorbed, you must offer yourself to another entity, the great creator, the slumbering Triton. Being consumed by either doesn’t really matter, but offering up your soul is the content of our contract. Your brief yet sacred life has ended, Divine Corpse, now die for my lord."

With a fragile spirit as if returning to infancy, Serio speaks evenly, "It seems I have no other choice."

"Of course, now we are very close to His body, so close I could awaken Him alone, and your acceptance or not is irrelevant." 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Serio does not mind Arnold seeing him as a tool; his spirit drifts towards the distant, deep darkness beneath the azure.

"The Supreme will integrate everything, in His vision all is indistinguishable. Planets are bodies, souls are flesh, and we will achieve eternity within His life... that feeling, truly beautiful."

Arnold listens quietly, this is nothing, hearing his last words is the mercy of the dead.

...

"Astonishment, sir, please wait a moment!" The Resentful Spirit lingers at the very tip of the tower, just a step away from the soul tower. The cry of the Lich scholar is superfluous because Astonishment has been waiting here for over ten minutes, enough time for a Lich to crawl to the tower top from the first floor of Andrei Castle. This impatient fellow forgot more than ten minutes ago that Astonishment is a ghost, who fell from the roof through his spectral body.

"We are compiling the ’History of Andrei Academy,’ as you know, to glorify the Dean’s journey to wealth, hoping he will allocate more funds to us. But our investigation revealed we know little of the past, even before the establishment of Andrei Academy; our knowledge of Dean Oglen Andrei, an Enchantment Studies master, is only superficial."

The Lich blinks, "There are few Liches left who participated in the founding of the Academy, but you seem as old as this institution." Rubbing his fingers together, the literary society member gives a slight smile, "The price is negotiablе."

Astonishment didn’t care about the literary society’s compensation, but few Liches who knew about Andrey’s past understood the extent of it. The society that is now active and expanding, including esteemed scholars, the dragon gentleman, and even Mr. Raymond, all emerged after the establishment of Andrey. The grey history belonging to the elderly also stirred up memories of this Resentful Spirit.

Without embellishment, Astonishment coldly narrated everything he knew.

"Oglen Andrei was once known as the Soul Harvester. He became a Lich not due to a tragic death but through a voluntary transformation. He was obsessed with collecting knowledge, even if it required prying open the teeth of the dead. Hmm... This was while he was still alive..."

Completely disregarding the pens dropping from the hands of the literary society members, under a silent gaze, Astonishment continued the conversation.

"Andrei Academy was formerly known as the Emo Scholar Council, an organization of Magicians that would stop at nothing to achieve their goals. Oglen preferred interrogation over seeking guidance; he would hunt Liches and extract the knowledge he desired from their skulls. This behavior became even more unrestrained after he turned into a Lich because he learned how to craft Soul Stones to increase memory capacity. Extracting souls from carcasses, some Liches whose memories were taken perished, while others suffered amnesia. You must understand, the headmaster back then didn’t have much sympathy."

"He often lingered at battlefields and graveyards, occasionally creating massive graveyards himself. The notorious reputation of Liches was not unfounded. Later... Hmm... he found the method of proactive plundering to be inefficient; robust souls were, after all, a minority, and those weaker deceased could hardly even speak."

"Thus, he collaborated with former members of the Emo Scholar Council to start planning the construction of a Lich Academy, somewhat akin to... a chive cultivation farm. Andrei was established due to this reason, but excessive focus on the weak caused him to lose his original purpose, or rather, it was after he set aside his obsession with knowledge, that he realized how empty he truly was. The students adequately filled the void in his soul, the sense of accomplishment from producing strong individuals tasted sweeter than the satisfaction from knowledge."

"Later, he met scholars, met dragons, met Raymond. Influenced by each other, Oglen Andrei became the dean you all know, and Andrei Academy continued to expand under his impetus..."

The members of the literary society were kneeling in agony, covering their skulls.

"How can this be published! The old man was once a butcher and a murderer; he will be taken away by the executive committee before we can secure funding..."

The Lich raised his head, his eyes shining.

"This is just your word, and even if it is the truth, I should interview the parties involved, like members of the Emo Scholar Council. A respected organization should not be silent now. Mr. Astonishment, do you have a list of those who are in the know?"

"There aren’t many left who still exist, besides myself, there seems to be... another person named Arnold, a professor of Spirit Summoning Studies, but he later went mad."

The Lich’s mouth hung open.

"How come there are so few of you? There should have been more members who initially established Andrei."

Mr. Astonishment’s gaze shifted downward, sweeping over the dean’s tower.

"Oglen’s chive harvesting farm was never limited to just Andrei."

"How do you think I became a Resentful Spirit?"

"What do you think allowed him to play the good guy? Because there is no one left to despise him."