Chapter 73: An Invitation from the Noble Organization

  Sandro pointed at Ethan and said to the guest, "This guy's been out gallivanting at night lately."

  "Young people, it's only natural," the guest nodded and smiled. His words carried the understanding and tolerance of an adult addressing a child's misbehavior, yet his hoarse, unpleasant voice sent shivers down one's spine.

  No one else could produce such a repulsive sound. From that signature voice, Ethan instantly recognized the monster that had nearly blown him to bits in Whispering Woods—the Necromancer Bishop Ronis had spoken of. And now this creature was actually lecturing him with the condescension of an elder. It was utterly bizarre.

  Sandro wore a lazy, peculiar expression, as if this truly were just an ordinary friend dropping by for tea and conversation. He stood up and tossed out, "You two chat away. I'll sit outside for a bit." He turned and walked out of the great hall, casually closing the door behind him.

  "Sit down," the Lich gestured like a hospitable host, pointing to a stone table cleared amidst a cluster of corpses. In this sea of dead bodies, she blended into the surroundings as naturally as a maiden among flowers or a scholar in an ancient text, appearing remarkably at home—as if she truly belonged here.

  Ethan could hear his own heartbeat and breathing echo hollowly in the bizarre hall filled with corpses and organs. He was now the sole living thing here. He glanced warily at Lich twice, hesitated, then walked over and sat down.

  Since this creature had appeared at old Sandro's place and greeted him so courteously, it probably wasn't here to cause trouble. At least Sandro had no reason to frame him. Besides, he was now quite curious about the Necromancer Guild and wanted to hear what business this Necromancer had with him.

  "I thought our past misunderstanding would make you wary," the Lich smiled. That false face of hers must have been Sandro's handiwork—whatever magic he'd used on it allowed it to show expressions. "I suppose I should introduce myself first, to save time explaining hostilities and misunderstandings... I am a Lich. You may call me Vedenina. Simply put, I am your classmate."

  "Classmate?" Ethan's eyes widened. He had no memory of such a relationship, let alone with a Lich. And "Vedenina" was clearly a woman's name. He scrutinized the undead creature claiming to be his classmate for a moment, struggling to reconcile his impression of its malevolence with the concept of "female."

  "Yes. I was once a student of Professor Sandro, and also of Professor Ronis. That naturally makes me your classmate. Now you should understand we aren't enemies."

  Ethan was taken aback. That this undead creature had ties to Sandro was plausible enough, but the notion that it had also been a student of Bishop Ronis was hard to fathom. Stunned, he didn't bother to clarify—at least in his own memory, he'd never regarded old Sandro or the Bishop as teachers.

  "No need for surprise. I wonder if the Magic Academy still has records of me... Long ago, when I was human, my name was Vedenina Te Grafenhardt. Now, as a Lich, I serve the most noble, esteemed, and glorious order of magicians—the Necromancer Guild."

  "Grafenhardt? That... sounds like a royal surname?"

  A raspy, bellows-like sound erupted from Vedenina's throat. Ethan froze before realizing it was likely a light chuckle of relief. "Names are mere labels, surnames are simply labels others give—none hold real meaning. As a Lich, the highest and wisest of beings, I long ago discarded such trivialities."

  Ethan furrowed his brow and scrutinized the creature from head to toe once more, finding it hard to fathom such an astonishing identity for this monstrosity. He asked, "What brings you here?"

  Vedenina's false face twisted into what seemed like a fake smile. "I can guess you've been feeling rather depressed and troubled lately."

  Ethan couldn't help but nod. Ever since Bishop Ronis forced him into that job, he had indeed felt stifled and irritated. Every matter he encountered, every task he faced, was something he neither understood nor knew how to handle. Yet now, he couldn't charge ahead recklessly as he once did, forced instead to follow others' lead. This feeling was unbearable; he even felt his own mind growing increasingly dull.

  "Teacher Ronis's biggest flaw is forcing his own ideas onto others, regardless of whether they're willing to accept them or suited for the task. It's probably that stubbornness unique to older people."

  "Mm-hmm." Ethan nodded again, feeling a strong sense of empathy.

  "That's why I'm here to help you," the kind classmate said.

  "Help me? How?" Ethan's eyes lit up as he asked.

  "I'm here to invite you to join the most noble, prestigious, and honorable organization of magicians in the world—the Necromancer Guild."

  "You've got to be kidding. No way." Ethan refused almost without thinking. "I may not like being a hero, but I definitely don't want to become a zombie."

  "Hehehe..." The Lich's laughter, though presumably meant kindly, still sent a chill down Ethan's spine. It felt as if the corpses and organs scattered throughout the room were stirring to life with that sound. "I suspect your refusal stems largely from our guild's reputation. Allow me to clarify: those are merely the prejudices of the mundane world, the misunderstandings of those who see only the sky through a well. First, tell me—what do you imagine Diya Valley to be like?"

  No one would ponder such a question deeply, nor was there any need to guess. The descriptions from bards and legends were countless. Ethan recited offhand: "The ground littered with zombies and skeletons, the sky filled with ghosts and specters, a lifeless wasteland where Necromancers feast on flesh and blood, studying how to resurrect demon lords..."

  "Nonsense," Vedenina interrupted Ethan's recitation with another laugh that could make corpses dance. "The sunrise atop the highest peak of the Shadowspire Peaks and the mirages of the Wyvern Wastes are undoubtedly among the most beautiful and wondrous sights on the continent. From the frigid summits of the Shadowspire Peaks to the perpetually spring-like plains, down to the scorching valley floors, the starkly contrasting climates allow all the continent's most precious and rare flowers and plants to flourish in vast swathes within Diya Valley. I'm certain there's no place more beautiful than Diya Valley anywhere on the continent. As for the cultural atmosphere, it's hard to describe—suffice it to say we have wines even emperors from other nations struggle to taste, and art treasures rivaling half the royal collections across the continent. At least three of our members are top-tier artists and musicians."

  Listening to Lich describe the most dangerous and wicked place as the most beautiful tourist destination with what was probably the most unpleasant voice on the entire continent, Ethan burst out laughing. This was likely the most hilarious tall tale on the continent. This classmate could probably also be considered the funniest undead monster.

  But his laughter quickly faded. For his hearty guffaws, Vedenina offered only a faint, faint smile.

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  Though it was a false face, it still felt eerie. Yet that calm, unshakable confidence radiated from her, palpable to anyone. Besides, a Lich certainly wouldn't have come here just to tell him a joke.

  "In the past decade, nearly a hundred souls have endured unimaginable hardships to reach Diya Valley. Countless more perished along the way in The Wyvern Wastes and The Shadowspire Peaks. Those who found Diya Valley on their own were mostly the continent's most vicious criminals, the most depraved murderers. Killing without blinking was merely their most basic common trait. Among them were those who enjoyed dismembering young girls alive, those with a fetish for collecting human faces, and those who slaughtered entire villages simply because someone had looked down on them... They all sought to join the legendary Necromancer Guild, hoping to escape the bounties placed on their heads by society and indulge more freely in slaughter and corpse-mutilation. But guess what happened to them?"

  "Weren't they allowed to join?" Ethan asked. By any standard, these individuals seemed born to be reserve members of the Necromancer Guild.

  "They are unworthy," Vedenina's voice grew harsher with contempt, like a file scraping against rusted metal. "These trash aren't even worthy of having their corpses left in Diya Valley. They all become zombies or specters, forever wandering outside Diya Valley as laborers and guards. The Necromancer Guild is the noblest organization in the world. Only the most intelligent, the most exceptional, the most refined are worthy of joining. Many among them are great saints and sages in society, dashing artists, or industry leaders who laugh at princes and dukes."

  Ethan truly couldn't muster a smile. He recalled the three names Bishop Ronis had mentioned. He asked, "Agrael, former head of the Imperial Adventurers' Guild; merchant Norbolin; Ramado, court mage of the Duchy of Rhondes. Are these individuals truly members of the Necromancer Guild?"

  "Yes." The Lich was candid, showing no hint of concealment. "These are likely the names Master Ronis mentioned to you. Now you believe it. We are all such refined and exceptional individuals—how could we possibly live in poverty like beggars or suffer like wretched rats? We possess the means, and certainly the right, to enjoy the world's highest pleasures."

  Ethan had to admit the truth likely lay in those words. After all, it was said that renowned merchant once purchased an entire tourist city with its prized hot springs solely for the sake of bathing in peace. Yet he still couldn't wrap his head around it. "But surely your reputation isn't entirely baseless? If it's truly an organization practicing Necromancy, how could it be filled with such formidable individuals?"

  "I've already told you—those are nothing but the wild imaginings of frogs at the bottom of a well. You probably haven't encountered high-level magic yet, so you don't understand. There is absolutely no form of magic more profound, more exquisite, or more artistic than Necromancy." The Lich waved his withered fingers at the densely packed corpses surrounding them. "Look at the human body—how intricate, how perfect it is. Even the finest work of a dwarf artisan pales in comparison to a human finger—as crude as a lump of mud. Only those of exceptional intellect and innate talent are worthy of learning this advanced magic. Birds of a feather flock together, so our guild is truly the noblest place on earth, gathering the most outstanding individuals. Joining us would be an absolutely wonderful thing for you."

  Ethan remained silent, pondering the question. After a long moment, he asked, "Why do you want me to join your organization?"

  "Because you should join the Necromancer Guild." Vedenina's tone was firm, yet her words remained vague.

  Ethan smiled faintly, sighed, and said, "I suppose it's because of the Leaves of the World Tree, the Sunwell, and your so-called The Black Star."

  Thankfully, Bishop Ronis had already explained the reason to him. After all that beating around the bush and all those beautiful words, the real purpose hidden behind it all was probably just this.

  Vedenina smiled, her false eyes—made from the eyes of the dead—narrowing.

  She didn't respond to Ethan's words, but cut straight to the heart of the matter with a single, cool remark: "Teacher Ronis must have told you some baffling story. I can probably guess what kind of clichéd tale it is—something about evil being unleashed to destroy the world, or the like."

  "Isn't that the case?" Ethan felt the pressure mounting. The information he'd gleaned from this classmate today was far too abnormal, and it seemed like there was something even more shocking lurking beneath the surface.

  "I needn't refute or explain. Just use your own clear mind to see it's pure nonsense. Tell me—why would we slaughter everyone and turn this continent into a wasteland? To stare blankly at a world full of skeletons and zombies? Even the most ruthless vampire wouldn't entertain such thoughts. Especially not us—such a noble, united group?"

  "But don't you worship some dark god of destruction?" Ethan pressed on, trotting out the familiar tropes from stories and legends.

  "Worship?" The Lich looked back at Ethan. "Do you still worship some deity?"

  "No." Ethan shook his head.

  "If even you don't worship, why would we?" The Lich's reply was somewhat baffling, yet Ethan felt he vaguely understood. "Faith is for the weak-hearted, to prop up their beliefs and spirits. Truly mature and spiritually strong individuals don't worship—they only believe. They believe in what they see and feel."

  "If not destroying the world, then conquering it, right?" Ethan thought hard, then backed down to a more suitable justification.

  "Conquer the world? How vulgar, how utterly tasteless." Lich's laughter dripped with contempt and scorn at the very notion.

  "The desire to conquer is merely the specialty of youthful arrogance, or the scum of a sick mentality born from excessive inferiority complexes seeking to transcend everything. Can one truly trample the world underfoot? Impossible. You'd still be you—still experiencing joy and sorrow, still living a weary life. Those of us who've seen through the world's illusions, long transcended mundane desires—why would we be bound by such meaningless cravings? Besides..." Lich's tone shifted, becoming utterly flat yet carrying the weight of a thousand pounds. "Even if we truly sought to conquer the world, it wouldn't take much effort at all."

  Ethan exhaled, his expression finally relaxing into relief. At last, he could be certain this classmate was indeed spouting utter nonsense. Who would have thought a Lich could possess such audacity and nerve to blow such a huge load of hot air?

  Yet Vedenina showed no sign of his bluff being called, continuing in the same detached tone: "Conquering people by force is the very definition of foolishness. Manipulating the common folk or controlling a nation is, at the very least, far easier than crafting a top-tier skeleton zombie. You must understand, the society formed by humans is a peculiar thing. The countless ordinary souls living at the very bottom are remarkably honest, simple, and endearing. They obediently follow officials and laws, while officials and laws obey the monarch, the king. Therefore, controlling just those at the very top equates to controlling the entire nation. With our abilities, wisdom, and methods, orchestrating a few coups, aiding easily manipulated individuals in seizing the throne—what difficulty could that possibly pose? Vedenina's voice, though shrill as a wail, adopted a drawling tone that was unbearably unpleasant. "Even out of mere curiosity, any single member of the guild could easily stir up a war."

  Ethan had to concede once more that this was likely true. After all, Bishop Ronis himself had stated that the court mage alone had ignited a decade of unending wars between the duchy and its neighbors.

  "Even driving an entire nation mad, compelling them to conquer the world, wouldn't be difficult. People don't just submit to social hierarchies; crucially, they surrender their thoughts and emotions to religion, philosophy, and all manner of obscure values and beliefs. Among us are masters of emotion who manipulate hearts and minds as easily as assembling a jigsaw puzzle. Controlling those mundane souls obsessed with worldly affairs is simpler than training dogs. Grasp the threads of their religion and faith, and you hold complete sway over them. With the right methods, they'll follow you anywhere—even to hell..."

  "Alright, alright, alright..." Ethan declared his surrender. Under this classmate's unparalleled eloquence, his mind had become a chaotic mess. He took several deep breaths to calm his nearly boiling thoughts and refocused on the core issue. "I admit you're formidable, a true gathering of masters. But I still don't understand—what exactly do you want me to join you for? I won't believe it has nothing to do with the Sunwell or the Leaves of the World Tree."

  "Same answer as before—you were always meant to join the Necromancer Guild." Vedenina's response drifted back into that same murky territory, though she added, "As for those connections? You'll understand once you're in..." The green fire behind her eyes flickered. "The crucial part is this: the moment you join us, you'll be utterly free. Elves? Church warrants? They're nothing but trash to us. Do whatever you want."

  Ethan drew a long breath. After all this talk, he'd finally heard the most tempting and practical words.

  "And I've explained everything about our noble organization, so you have absolutely nothing to worry about. I've even completed all the membership procedures for you. With approval from over half the members, all you need to do is nod your head." Vedenina's dead eyes fixed intently on Ethan. "What do you say?"

  Ethan's mind raced, but he couldn't make sense of it all.

  Vedenina's words had shattered any preconceived notions anyone might hold about the Necromancer Guild. The conditions offered and the future she painted were utterly enticing. Compared to his current miserable existence under Bishop Ronis in the royal capital, this felt like a breath of fresh air. Yet, he sensed something was still off, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

  "Forget it," Ethan sighed finally, declining the offer.

  Vedenina smiled, seemingly unfazed by his refusal. She pulled a scroll from her cloak and handed it to Ethan. "You don't need to decide right now. Take this. When you're ready to join, just come directly."

  Ethan hesitated before accepting it. Suddenly remembering, he asked, "That vampire in the hunting grounds the other day—you guys released it, right? Can you tell me who did it?"

  "We mostly mind our own business and don't interfere with each other. I'm not really aware of what other members do."

  "Can you tell me who your mole is within the royal capital?"

  "I can't tell you that. You'll find out naturally when you become one of us."

  "Alright. I've told you everything I needed to. Now I must return to Diya Valley." Vedenina produced a scroll herself, unfurling it until her entire body was enveloped in a blue-white glow. "I hope you won't tell Master Ronis I came here. That would put Master Sandro in a difficult position."

  "No need to say that," Ethan nodded. If Bishop Ronis found out the Necromancer Guild had come to invite him, what would happen? For safety's sake, they might just throw him straight into the dungeon.

  The moment Vedenina vanished in the teleportation glow, Sandro opened the door and stepped inside. Glancing at the lingering blue-white light, he shook his head and sighed, muttering to himself, "If you didn't want to put me in a tough spot, you should've just stayed away."

  Ethan stared blankly at the spot where the Lich had been seated, scratched his head thoughtfully, then turned to Sandro and asked, "Was everything she said earlier true?" He could tell Sandro had been standing just outside the door, meaning he must have overheard their entire conversation.

  "I don't know," Sandro replied, sounding utterly lifeless.

  Ethan looked at the old man and frowned. "You're supposed to be friends with Bishop Ronis, right? So why are you hosting me, his classmate? Whose side are you really on?"

  "Neither," Sandro replied, rolling his eyes.

  "What am I supposed to do?"

  Sandro's eyes widened. "How should I know?"