Academic gathering with a lich-Chapter 92 - 88 The Beginning of Creation

Lyle had to confront the reality that his new abilities might still be considered mediocre.

Mr. Scholar’s Array was already complete, its silver-blue luster indicating that the Array was functioning normally.

"The Genesis Magic Array feels like a relic of the last century to me, it’s lucky that it’s not unfamiliar," he said indifferently, making it seem as though the luck he spoke of was merely an exaggerated descriptor.

"That’s no exaggeration, Plague Doctor. Basically, I always keep a backup of the Arrays I create, in my library. Without being able to reference them and having to rely entirely on memory for the drawing, this is indeed a rare first for me."

"Then why doesn’t Mr. Scholar just take a look at it directly?"

"Because my room has been occupied," Mr. Scholar replied with a wry smile, walking over to a shadowy corner where there stood a wardrobe with a white silver handle and carvings.

"Occupied by the Witches’ Association?" It wasn’t hard to guess Mr. Scholar’s troubles.

"Exactly as you think. Following that trip to Moon Nafar, I guess I’ve earned myself a leisurely vacation." His tone lightened for a moment but then hesitated, "I’m afraid Miss Wenli is going to be furious; it’s hard to imagine her flying through Andrei district on a broomstick, breaking window panes and checking inside each one. My friend told me she looked as though she’d swallowed two live Fire Lizards. For the sake of my peace, it’s best to stay hidden for a while."

Mr. Scholar opened the closet, which, instead of a variety of elegant formal wear, revealed a series of chains left lying at the bottom. As Mr. Scholar moved them, they made a sound akin to flowing water, and from the palm of his hand, a blue Magic Power emerged. The chains, like snakes seeing food, lifted their "heads" and entwined around Mr. Scholar’s palm.

"Easy does it, old chap." Mr. Scholar pulled one out, holding its "head" close to his left arm. Like a parasitic mistletoe finding a tree to cling to, the chain wound around his arm.

It was a piece of Magic Equipment.

"Magic Lock, a type of equipment to suppress Magic Power. Due to my excessive Magic Power, they happen to be a great help to me, used for some fine tasks, yes, such as how to handle your Sword Dance Mandala."

Chains wrapped around his arms, legs, and along both sides of his torso, like additional ribs protecting the chest cavity. The four chains around Mr. Scholar’s torso twisted together at his chest, revealing a silver ornament that looked like a gemstone, Eight Locks.

Mr. Scholar floated in the air, his pale blue Magic Power surrounding him like clouds tethered by the chains, and Lyle felt a surge of Magic Power that churned his insides, as though air with a strange scent had enveloped them.

As the chains swayed, that suffocating feeling akin to drowning diminished a great deal.

"Sorry, at the initial activation of this device, it’s inevitable that a little might be exposed."

Mr. Scholar controlled his elevation to stay level, but Lyle felt as though he was looking up at a person standing amidst the clouds. The feeling was neither like Alianna’s allure, nor like the dragon Mr.’s chilliness, nor like Mr. Remon’s oppression, but like a cloud floating high above, one had to crane their neck to the very top to catch a glimpse of him.

Gradually, Lyle began to understand what Medusa meant, and he formed a vague concept of the divine nature of Magic Power.

"Plague Doctor, please show me your Sword Dance Mandala."

Lyle took out the black flower from his pouch, its color just as vivid as the day before, as fresh as if it were still on the stem.

Mr. Scholar threw the Mandala flower into the center of the Array, where it floated weightlessly before gradually disintegrating into a pile of black dust right before Lyle’s eyes.

"Your talent, that sphere."

Shuishui became a tendril, climbing up Mr. Scholar’s arm.

"Oh, it’s changed quite a bit, already one lock, eh, Plague Doctor?"

"Yes, after the hunting ceremony in Liveser, as Mr. Scholar said, the elevation of abilities helps with our fusion."

"What is your new ability, Plague Doctor, the new power awakened within you, that will determine the path you will follow in the future?"

"The Plague Messenger, Mr. Scholar," Lyle explained again in detail, this time without the joy he had felt before.

"Do you know, Mr. Plague Doctor, the very nature of a plague is a virus, and a virus, in its simplest form, is life. It’s a path that fits a healer quite well."

"You chose to give a new soul to your talent." Mr. Scholar placed Shuishui above the cluster of dust, and under his magic power, Shuishui’s body expanded, turning into a hazy mist that mingled with the black dust. It was like a storm’s eye emerging out of nowhere, swirling in the air. Mr. Scholar continued to make meticulous adjustments, but the conversation did not stop.

"Shuishui has been a great help to me; considering its spontaneous actions, I find it hard to see it merely as a tool serving me."

"Too much sentimentality is not a good way to live. There are many things not worth your doing so," Mr. Scholar said coldly, but then he changed his tone, "However, in the realm of the mystical, there are no absolutes. Each person’s truth lies in the choices they make."

"Extend your hand, Mr. Plague Doctor, there might be a surprise."

Lyle looked at the storm’s eye that had turned as black as ink; despite feeling somewhat anxious, he reached out his hand.

Just as his fingertips were about to touch the core, he felt a distinct sensation through his leather gloves.

It was a transparent hand, as delicate as that of an infant. The tiny palm emerged from beyond the black storm’s eye and grasped the tip of Lyle’s index finger.

A feeling of indescribable joy suddenly surged in his heart.

"It has responded to you."

Lyle slowly rotated his index finger, and the transparent little hand also moved slowly with the rotation.

The joy lasted less than a quarter of an hour before the little hand withdrew into the storm’s eye.

"Mr. Scholar, what was that?"

"The will of your talent, newly born. The Sword Dance Mandala has the ability to stimulate the potential of the human body. I focused all that power on the soul, catalyzing the spirituality you invested in your talent. Perhaps before long, it will give birth to a complete soul, yes, like your own child."

"But this is just the first step, an initiation of sorts. This catalytic process still has a long time to continue, and there’s a considerable length of time before the granting of powers can be carried out."

With that, the array’s light dimmed, and Shuishui returned to its original spherical shape, appearing a bit darker, with black dust scattered around it.

Shuishui returned to Lyle’s shoulder, but a large clump of dust still hung suspended above the array.

"It can only absorb so much today, the rest is about the size of an apple, and the foundation must be consolidated little by little. When it has all been absorbed, I will begin your endowment ceremony, and your talent will be renewed."

"Thank you, Mr. Scholar."

"No need for thanks, this also serves to corroborate my theory. Do you know why your talent knows how to cast spells?"

"Because it’s a part of me?"

"Because it’s your Magic Wand. You’ve performed soul attachment on it, allowing it to become like one of your limbs. That is also where it gets its spirituality from."