Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 831 - 772 Blue Dragon’s Work

On the other side of the mirror, that decrepit, gloomy individual was staring at himself, his dense wrinkles like knife scars, and under the shadow of a wizard’s hat, his pale eyeballs twitched unnaturally. His fingers pried open his eyelids, the withered yellow nails drawing ever closer to his pupils, revealing no fear in his eyes, but a lifeless, inorganic gaze that sent chills down one’s spine. Mr. Dean rubbed his eyebrows, but Lyle’s flesh disguise did not mimic the expression he wanted.

The flesh disguise is not a mask; it cannot hide the wearer’s inner demeanor.

"To perfectly reflect the true inner self, indeed a fine student," the Dean forced an ugly smile and began to pick his favorites from the table, the old methods always worked best. A thick, fluffy golden beard, with cute little braids at the sides, clinging to the shriveled upper lip, covering half of his face, instantly transforming his demeanor into one of warm sunshine, the Dean squinted his small eyes.

The old man’s naive laughter didn’t last long, the glistening mirror surface began to ripple, blurring the scene, the reflection now limited to the entire head, sans hat and beard, making the mirrored figure look ludicrous and unfamiliar.

"Peace, old friend," said the Dean cheerily, greeting the mirror.

"Peace, although we do not wish to see you, you’ve given us no right to refuse," the face attempted to break through the mirror, but the thin mirror surface served as a firm barrier, rendering any distortions and grimaces in the mirror useless. Mr. Dean hummed lightly, quite pleased with his creation. The Soul Reaper had stuffed his prey into a container, and after completely absorbing their knowledge, he didn’t discard the remnants of their personalities, but hung them up, much like the trophies displayed in the tower.

The Dean used his foe’s Soul Fragments to craft a Magic Mirror, a garbage-talk sinkhole, a false object to vent his emotions.

"The Liches are digging into your past," said the person in the mirror, yet noticed that the Dean’s expression did not change drastically.

"Let them find out then," Mr. Dean said carelessly, chuckling as his fingers interlocked and rubbed, making a noise, "Caring too much about the past makes one an artifact of time. I’m more concerned about that one wandering outside, our companion."

"Arnold," the mirror shrieked, its voice full of jealousy and resentment. "He should be locked up, with us! And the Shock, that remaining part!"

Mr. Dean stroked his beard, musing, "I knew he would go mad one day, studying the lore of the Evil God. Death is the best outcome. He was a destined rotten fruit, a pity we once had much in common."

The mirror’s shriek grew even more piercing.

"The one who has rotted is you!! You abandoned your original purpose, this academy should meet the same end as the Emo Council!!! They should be like us!!!"

The Dean tapped the nightshade carving on the left side of the mirror, and a dense fog arose in the mirror, trapping their voices inside. This rare silence provoked the Dean’s urge to speak, he quickened his pace, mumbling to the blurred mirror image. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

"I had also prepared a reservoir for him, to let him play with his little seafood, self-sustaining, but he escaped. Well, I did encourage Lyle to make contact with him, indeed intending to test him, but I didn’t want him to cause me so much trouble."

"The Arcanists of the City of Wandering contacted me. Behind the event of the City of Wandering’s fall, triggered by the Apostles of the Evil God, lay his involvement, a complex Flesh Transmutation Array, carved into the city’s foundations. I should have guessed, with just one Divine Corpse, it couldn’t cause a catastrophe like blood-flesh chaos, Arnold, you damned madman."

"One-tenth of the missing population, including various races, the densely populated City of Wandering is simply a supermarket rich in varieties. Now the Spirit Summoners have sufficient spellcasting materials, truly a scourge."

"I should reap him immediately, if I find him."

"Where are you, my old friend... where, where, where..."

He paced around in place, whispering, with only a mirror as a witness.

...

In the City of Wandering, inside the Silver King’s tower.

The scholar’s fingers slid down, the floating water mirror evaporated into thin air, he turned his head to look outside the window, the glow of the Arcanist’s Eye momentarily coinciding with his gaze.

"Those Flesh Transmutation Arrays... I’ve dealt with them cleanly." Kristo pushed open the door, the Blue Dragon with silver hair tinged with blue crystals looked towards the mentor seated in the chair, the enchanted inscriptions on the door handle took him an extra five seconds, the scholar’s little trick making the Blue Dragon somewhat nostalgic.

The Dragon Priest nodded, gesturing to the space in front of him for the student to take a seat. After a sigh, the Blue Dragon sat upright on the crystalline chair, facing his teacher, the scholar propping his head with one hand, his gaze still lingering outside the window.

"It’s good that you’ve grasped the essentials of Spirit Summoning Studies,"

Scholar’s encouragement made Kristo shrug, indicating that it was nothing.

"Lyle doesn’t mind me watching his experiments in the lab, witnessing all those unimaginable contraptions, I’ve unfortunately gained some insights."

"Not busy with the dream work anymore? You seem to have taken a long break."

"The framework of the dream game has been completed and is running stably. After clearing those variables, maintaining it has become quite easy..." Kristo chuckled joyfully, childlike, "That means he’s out of inspiration and can’t come up with new tasks!" Kristo’s cheeky grin proved his profound disdain for someone’s sudden bursts of new ideas.

The scholar calmly watched Kristo’s swaying tail, and decided not to inform him of Lyle’s recent whereabouts. Your senior brother has gone to upgrade; otherwise, you’d be suffering.

Poor child, I almost can’t bear to disturb him.

"Very well, my student, now you have time to understand your actual job."

He stiffened like a crystal, eyes narrowing into slits, his body fluctuating uneasily, his human transformation magic nearly losing control. Kristo bit his lip, his words rushed.

"My actual job? What were those things I’ve been doing for over half a year? Managing the city, constructing dreams... You speak as if I was just playing." I spent so much time working hard on the tasks you assigned, yet now you’re telling me they won’t be tested.

Kristo was a bit angry, more so filled with resentment for being uninformed. If the scholar had told him from the beginning that it was just a part-time job, he definitely would have... spent more time comforting himself. What can a Blue Dragon do, as this Dragon Priest gets scary when angry.

The scholar didn’t come off as too shameless; he patiently waited for Kristo to vent, using his gaze to coax his apprentice back to his seat, then consoled him: "Managing the city is to nurture your ability to think comprehensively, dealing with dreams... interacting with Lyle, tests your adaptability and patience. With careful thought and flexible problem-solving, these traits can help you better complete our true work."

"My arrangements always have their reasons, child." Pulling out a wine glass, the scholar himself poured wine for the Blue Dragon, "You have always been my pride, hard work, Kristo."

Hard work indeed.

Those words almost made Kristo cry, a surge of emotion from being recognized filled his chest. He gripped the wine glass given by the scholar, gently swirling it, watching the liquid roll, just like his moist eyes.

"So... Teacher, you have been watching over me, I... I thought I was just an overworked drudge, just a tool for labor."

The scholar frowned, disliking Kristo’s low opinion of himself, stood up, walked over to the Blue Dragon, and laid his hand on his shoulder.

"I am indeed strict with my students, but I see you as precious offspring. Why would you think that way, Kristo, you are a noble Giant Dragon, a dignified son of the father of dragons. No one, and I do not allow it either, should treat you as cheap labor."

"Really? But Alcalon once said, the Black Dragon Priest always makes him dig holes, hunt, and do such unseemly menial tasks. I thought, I thought you two old... old Dragon Priests were starting some strange competition, comparing who’s dragon is more miserable, stuff like that."

In fact, the Blue Dragon would occasionally complain to the Firstborn of War during breaks from his busy work, and just as Alcalon had just dealt with the psychological issues of an ancient human tribe and established his authority, he also happened to listen to his brother’s jokes. The evil Black Dragon laughed internally but showed a pained expression on the surface. Brother is also miserable, living like a primitive man, we’re birds of a feather, good brothers, then a joking embrace crying together. At least Alcalon’s tears were real.

Morocoy, unaware of the truth, was a bit puzzled by his companion’s behavior, yet as part of the Dragon Priest, decided to uphold the dignity of the Dragon Priest.

"Don’t just look at the superficial appearance, Kristo. The Black Dragon Priest reveres strength as everything, their warriors think and act differently than us Spellcasters. No matter the process, we Dragon Priests will always see you Giant Dragons as irreplaceable treasures. We Dragon Priests would never abuse your abilities..."

An unusual spark suddenly flared in his mind.

"But as for Ohmhead... well, his head wasn’t quite right from the start. You know, the behavior of primitive tribal people is somewhat similar to that of monkeys."

"Don’t say I said this."