Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 761 - 703 Andrey Final Court

Lyle clenched tightly onto the slip of paper in his hand, having anticipated this day would come, just as he had felt when he first picked up the invitation from Andrei Academy. Destiny was beckoning him, he was bound to get it eventually.

Bullshit, Lyle tossed his pessimistic thoughts aside, his expression like that of an eggplant battered by frost.

He had caused trouble, big trouble. The intricate slip of paper in his hand was a court summons from the Andrei Executor Court. Senior Law had contacted him using the Ring of Andrei, and Lyle still remembered the stilted and solemn tone of that serious senior. That kind of tone almost always meant bad news.

"The Executor Final Court has convened due to the disaster of the Liches you caused, Mr. Plague Doctor. As a party involved, please return to the academy immediately," Senior Law had said.

The court summons was far less grand than the academy’s invitation. It had no envelope, the edges of the paper were not lined with dark gold, and the Andrei emblem was the only decoration aside from the text, with a rune certificate of passage on the back. Clearly, the academy did not intend to show a friendly face to those entering the court. As Lyle stepped out of the cracked teleportation circle, Mr. Dark’s peculiar gaze sent a chill through his spine, handing him the summons.

Before Lyle hurriedly left the Druid Cave to return to Andrei, he had covertly contacted Shiny and a few others to inquire about the situation. His companions from the Necromancer Figure Club explained the gist of events and the outcome. How the Literature Club under his brainwashing all turned into protagonists of the Yassy secondary dimension, and with Mr. Raymond’s Holy Light blessing, they mistakenly stormed Andrei Academy, turning Andrei into a battlefield, even launching a Gundam to drop a nuclear bomb. No one talked about the daring pilot cockpit; Shiny knew the esteemed Mr. Plague Doctor wasn’t interested in such trivial details.

With each additional word from Shiny, Lyle’s expression twisted further, his uncontrollable eyebrows writhing like worms, twisting into a knot, and he felt his mind wander, his soul seemingly ready to shell out like Nia’s.

Do I still have to go back and face death? I feel like no matter how I die, it won’t be enough. Mr. Raymond, can I still be saved?

The night sky over Andrei seemed a bit brighter, the newly formed temporary barrier like a mirror growing in the sky, reflecting moonlight and making the lands of Andrei even more luminous. The scorched smell of earth mixed with the dust from alchemical explosions, every few steps required hopping over a deep pit, and the wails of war refugees tormented Lyle’s mind, plunging him into profound self-doubt.

I can’t believe I made such a mess.

"My leg! Who has seen my leg?!"

"I have an extra finger?!"

"Please! Dig me out, my head is buried in the ground."

Fearful, despairing Liches screamed from the trenches, moving through marshes made of bone fragments, their own condition was not optimistic, their loosely held together, cracked skeletal bodies like fragile porcelain, as if they would shatter upon touch. A shadow fell over Lyle’s heart, and he walked despondently into the dust-filled academy, like a soulless puppet.

Before long, a few Liches with intact skeletons approached the trench, calling out to their fragile companions.

"Quit playing puzzle, the Executor Court is in session. Let’s hurry over for the spectacle. Why do you care about these bone scraps? Use a backup body to move! TM, out of dozens, only a few of you are stupid enough to die, hurry up and go."

The shattered Liches nodded.

"Almost forgot the time. I’ll go first! Hurry up and follow."

After speaking, he tilted his head back, and his body, unbound by consciousness, shattered into fragments, his soul surged into Andrei Castle, reviving from slumbering bones.

...

Lyle arrived at the Executor Hall in a daze, the once richly adorned doors now stood empty, without any hanging objects, they seemed heavy and authoritative.

Lyle took a deep breath.

Coming out this time, he might officially become a Lich.

Passing the reception desk, he turned into the narrow corridor that led to the defense room and the punishment room. Andrei’s luminous bats seemed not to change often; the Executor’s luminous bats exuded a distant coldness unlike others’, perched atop the door columns on the other side of the corridor, radiating bright and icy light in the darkness. They showed no sense of lighting awareness, unlike the others that curled up inside their wings. As Lyle approached, they raised their heads instead, spreading their wings in an intimidating pose like stone statues detecting an intruder, their spherical eyes fixed on Lyle.

The corridor was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, with only Lyle’s figure in the long passageway, and no sounds of argument or torture coming from the closed doors. The Executor Hall was eerily quiet, and Lyle noticed he hadn’t seen a single Lich along the way.

These circumstances had been mentioned to him by Mana.

The Executor Final Court, Andrei’s highest judicial authority, where the headmaster served as the judge and arbiter. Academic gatherings were events every Lich was eager to attend, but the Final Court was an event every Lich was required to attend. Andrei’s laws were established there, the most serious cases were dealt with, and furthermore, the Final Court had another purpose:

To punish members of the Salvation Association.

The deep red door in front of him was red as if bleeding, patterns of the Death Eggplant flower traced along the edges, forming a semicircle. The large Andrei emblem was engraved within the door’s runes; there was no doorkeeper, instead, the keeper was the stone spirit embossed on the door. A skeletal stone carving with four arms, its upper body coming out of the embossment, with long, spider-like arms extending down to Lyle. A clicking friction noise came from the embossment as its spine dislodged by segments, with a chain-like vertebra over two meters long connected to a human skull. Its neck rotated a full circle, peering at Lyle’s summons from behind him.

"May you evade punishment and censure, Mr. Plague Doctor," the stone spirit spoke indifferently; its blessing wasn’t quite impartial.

Lyle’s heart sank sharply.

"...What do you mean?"

The slender joints retreated into the relief, and the monotonous rhythm of the Stone Spirit was like the chanting of a poem.

[Life will age,

Rock will wear,

Souls will disperse,

Time will die.

Punishment and blame await everyone at the final end,

All you can do is to evade this calamity.]

It seemed to be a formulaic blessing, devoid of those terrible implications.

Lyle pushed open the great doors, looking inside.

The interior of the Final Court was a folded space, much larger than he had anticipated. The judges’ seats were lined up on one side, with only the dean sitting on a tall chair. The defendant and plaintiff seats were dignified and separate,, the audience seating was quite different; besides the area where the dean was located, the audience seats were spread around like a sporting event arena and were already filled to capacity.

As Lyle approached the door, a section of the area collectively stood up, bursting into loud applause. The colors of the Liches above were clear, red, white, and transparent. This was the seating area for the Spirit Summoning Fraction’s faculty, who became extremely happy upon seeing Lyle, as if he had received some noble honor to share in their glory.

Lyle bowed his head, feeling all eyes converge on him. Liches worship chaos and destruction, and the enthusiasm from the old home of the Spirit Summoning Fraction symbolized just how big a mess he had gotten himself into.

The more intense the applause, the more severe the punishment. It looked like execution was the starting point.

Feeling utterly humiliated, Lyle lowered his gaze to the ground and walked to the defendant’s seat amidst watchful eyes; the commotion around him ceased, seemingly entering a solemn trial, but the Liches’ focus on Lyle only intensified, leaving him uncertain of what to do.

Under the pressure of the gazes, Lyle started to notice the intricate patterns on the table of the defendant’s seat. Black and red thorns intertwined, forming beautiful Emo language scripts. The pattern was indeed pretty, but the spikes were real. The wood was from Cursed Spirit Wood—was it really good to use such ill-omened timber? The defendant’s seat was so spacious; even two people standing together wouldn’t feel crowded...

Lyle’s thoughts began to stall, and he silently looked up at the other defendant standing beside him.

A tall mummy with folded arms, Mr. Dark.

Lyle turned to look again at the nameplate on the table.

Defendant, Literature Club.

Lyle understood why everyone was staring at him; it truly felt as if he had died.

"Ahaha, sorry, I think I went to the wrong place, a misunderstanding." After playfully greeting Mr. Dark, Lyle wanted to find a corner to hide in before his face cooked from embarrassment.

Mr. Dark hooked Lyle’s shoulder directly, acting like they were good brothers.

"What misunderstanding! We’re brothers! Plague Doctor, you’re with our Literature Club, right?" Mr. Dark pulled Lyle’s head over, whispering, "Just come to our Literature Club, a talent like you is wasted outside. Help me rule the world; you could fool my Dark Legion into becoming idiots of the Holy Light, you’ll easily corrupt this world, I’ll make you the chief of the Four Dark Heavenly Kings, second only to one, above tens of thousands, the world will be in our hands!"

"George, take your filthy hands off! What are you doing to my innocent one, looking for death?!" Raymond’s roar echoed in the court, the blinding Holy Light almost left everyone blinded.

In the end, Lyle arrived at the seating area for the Spirit Summoning Fraction, attending this trial against the Literature Club by the Executors.

Only...

"Mr. Raymond, why are you sitting in our Spirit Summoning Fraction’s audience seats?" Lyle pointed at the empty seats on the other side, in the vast Church of Holy Light seating area, Star Spirit Lovdi waved over here, Sister Ellien curled up, her head glancing to the side.

The seats of the Spirit Summoning Fraction were packed, not just with apprentices like Lyle, but also with White Bone Fraction professors in white robes, Flesh Fraction professors in red, transparent Soul Fraction professors, and in their midst, Raymond from the Holy Light.

Raymond laughed heartily.

"If I sat with them, wouldn’t I be forcing you, Plague Doctor, to make a difficult choice of allegiances? As for stooping to sit in the Spirit Summoning Fraction’s seats, such an indignity means nothing compared to your sacrifices. How could I make things harder for you, my brother!"

Lyle’s expression twisted, reminded of some painful memory, and he muttered softly.

"I am already in enough trouble, Mr. Raymond."