Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 740 - 683: The Feast of Light
Lyle squinted his eyes out of habit—it was, after all, the Church of Holy Light. Bursting with brightness the moment the door opened, blinding him, was something he had experienced several times already.
Odd, today’s brightness was dimmer. Was Mr. Raymond not present? Or had he finally realized the importance of energy conservation and emission reduction?
Before he could think more about it, images drilled into his eyes. Information processed through his retina burst in his neural center, stupefying Lyle. His palm, poised to push the door, stiffened just a bit, suppressing the urge to close the door and run. Swallowing hard, full of questions, Lyle entered the chapel.
The Church of Holy Light could no longer be called a chapel. The benches on both sides, where believers would sit, had disappeared, leaving the vast room looking somewhat empty. This made the round table at the center particularly conspicuous. Four chairs were placed around it, with the one in front of Lyle empty. To the left was the Exile, Loveday, with his arms on the table and head bowed, a visible shadow across him that seemed to convey his foul mood. Aryan sat on the right like a lady with her hands folded on her lap. When Lyle entered, she turned her head and smiled sweetly at him. Aryan appeared gentle and beautiful, if one could overlook the dead-like expression on her face.
Somewhere in Lyle’s heart, a sinister premonition was urging him to run, certain that some unimaginable change had occurred within the Holy Light Society. Instincts of survival impelled his body, not wanting to get involved.
But it was too late. Directly opposite, Mr. Raymond’s radiance was like a gentle sun. He sat in the primary seat, waving to the just-entered Lyle.
"You’ve arrived just on time, Plague Doctor. Take a seat. We were only waiting for you."
Lyle shakily approached the round table, sitting down as if he were being led to the gallows, awaiting the judgment of the Holy Light disaster. Nia cowered behind him, the ominous feeling in his mind silent, the attached apparition holding its breath in silence.
"Um, Mr. Raymond, what is this... What are we doing here?"
Lyle noticed that from the moment he stepped into the chapel, Mr. Raymond’s gaze had been firmly locked on him. Although he used to feel the pressure of that gaze, it had before been at most a nuisance, nothing like the intense scrutiny he was experiencing now.
Raymond laughed, "Hahaha, it’s nothing serious, you’ve just come at a surprisingly good time, Plague Doctor."
"The fact is, during your time in Andrey, the Holy Light Society has thrived magnificently. We’ve grown, and I thought I could no longer act as whimsically as before. It’s time for some team building. A meal and heart-to-heart for the members of the Holy Light Society, to share our feelings. You were so busy that we didn’t inform you, but you happened to come just at mealtime. Isn’t that a coincidence? We must have a strong connection. Let’s set aside other matters and have a meal now."
Raymond clapped his hands gently, the loud applause echoing in the empty room. Loud footsteps followed as the back door opened, and a procession of human maids entered one by one, circling the four with trays. As each lid was lifted, the aroma of delicious food burst forth, stirring Lyle’s appetite. The still somewhat vacant chapel suddenly turned into a noble’s dining hall, with tables instantly filled with exquisite dishes. Two maids stood behind Lyle, waiting, with a long line behind them, forming a conveyer belt of delicious dishes.
"Master, please enjoy your meal." The sweet tone of voice matched the sweet smile, momentarily disorienting Lyle. Moreover, they were of fair appearance as women, clearly trained professionals. When did Andrey acquire a maids’ society? A thought crossed his mind, and Lyle reached out to one of the maids, his fingers lightly brushing against her cheek.
The somewhat offensive behavior was not stopped, and from the slit of Raymond’s helmet, there even burst a spark of light.
But Lyle had no carnal intentions. As his fingers neared the maid’s cheek, her face instantly collapsed. Her entire face began writhing and deforming like a mass of maggots, the nearby "flesh strips" lifting to answer their creator’s call.
Lyle was not surprised. As the maid rearranged her face, his hand kept rising.
Smack.
His palm was caught by Aryan, who squinted her eyes, her smile resembling a mask.
"Please enjoy your meal, Plague Doctor. Don’t let everyone’s efforts go to waste."
Perhaps for fear of affecting their appetite, Lyle ceased his perception and deftly picked up his knife and fork, beginning to dine with Raymond and others. Those "human" maids were actually disguised Liches. However, following Raymond’s arrangements, the Liches related to cooking...
"So the Holy Light Culinary Society has so many female members as well?"
"Of course, everyone is a follower attracted by the brilliance of the great Archbishop Raymond, and the number of both men and women is considerable," Loveday whispered softly.
That was not the case, the maids present were all Liches in pretty skins, dressed as women, members of the Holy Light Culinary Society who took Raymond’s orders as divine decrees. They could wield a spoon and a pot to become top-tier chefs, or dress up in maid outfits and act coquettishly like legendary beings. Lyle knew nothing of this; Loveday, who was feeling somewhat guilty due to the lies, quietly prayed in his heart for Archbishop Raymond.
As Lyle swallowed down the juicy meat chop, a look of enjoyment surfaced on his face; it was fantastic. The ghostly maids of Naslan could never achieve this kind of skill; he was beginning to understand why Alianna had been so distracted at meals lately. Lifting his cup, Lyle joyfully shared his delight with Mr. Raymond.
"This is amazing, Your Grace Raymond. Just thinking about such a banquet, and it being my first time today, I feel like I’ve missed out on so much. Cheers, and thanks for letting me catch this coincidence."
"Hahaha, just remember to come next time, I will always wait for you, Plague Doctor," Raymond said cheerfully, picking up some candied fruit from beside Aryan to offer Lyle.
Aryan smiled at Lyle with her knife and fork raised.
Lyle returned the smile apologetically and deflected the conversation.
"I’m really lucky, not only does the Culinary Society have many female members, but they also possess such skilled techniques. Miss Aryan, could this be a common hobby for women in this era, with maids taking advanced courses? Their etiquette is on par with the servants at Naslan. Is this the result of years of accumulation?"
"Certainly, that could be considered one of our talents, the fruit of many long years," Aryan replied with an elegant smile, wiping the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief.
It was not about luck or maid advancement courses; it was not like what you think, Lyle. All of this was the result of a plan made just one day earlier by that scoundrel Archbishop Raymond. The reason for these crossdressing Liches’ advanced skills was not some sort of time-honed refinement, but the damned efficiency of the Liches and the group of fanatics’ worship of Raymond, as well as my day and night, endless labor without sleep or food to train and teach them. It was inhuman; I’ve been treated like an animal, forbidden from resting or eating because I’m a Lich. I’ve never been this humiliated my whole life, but I endured it to avoid becoming a sacrifice for the Holy Light. A coincidence, haha, our group has been sitting here waiting for you for three hours now, and I haven’t had a single drop of water! So infuriating. Just when I thought of rewarding my hardworking self, they cleared away my plate.
That damn brat, may you stuff yourself to death! Just looking at you pisses me off!
"Don’t worry, Plague Doctor. Go ahead and eat more. Seeing you eat so happily makes me very happy too."
