Chapter 57: Lyricta

The Abyss, where pale forests loom.

If the endless, bottomless Abyss layers shared a common feature, it would be the winding Stygian River. This river, whose origins are lost in obscurity, traverses the entire netherworld belonging to the domains of evil. Countless vessels helmed by fiendish creatures shuttle back and forth, making the Stygian River, aside from the Astral Plane and the City of Sigils, another well-known conduit connecting the various domains of the nether realms.

Many shattered fragments of souls, fallen from other planes, also journey through the Stygian River to reach hell or the Abyss, commencing the journey of lower-plane species. The Abyss, teeming with vitality, often lies adjacent to the Stygian River.

Yet, sometimes, this exuberant vitality proves far from pleasant.

Belen gazed upon the turbid waters of the pool, witnessing the squirming abyssal larvae within. The clumps of viscous, filthy, meaty substances oozing with vile fluids almost induced him to retch.

Beside him, the newly recruited underling continued to chatter incessantly: "My lord, this is a recently formed Stygian Spring, teeming with larvae that could evolve into three or four advanced demons." The bruised and swollen succubus appeared respectful on the surface, but his mind raced incessantly due to Belen's trembling silver mane, secretly plotting how to seize the opportunity to eliminate this rat-like creature.

This spring had only formed less than half a year ago, and Desandaro was fortunate enough to occupy it. The succubus was well aware that this spring would sooner or later be discovered and plundered by beings of greater power. Therefore, he had originally planned to use it to enhance his strength before seeking another place, without any lingering attachment. However, before he could fully take advantage of it, he encountered this rat.

The succubus could only grit his teeth and begrudgingly accept his misfortune, while also pondering a cunning plan on how to reveal the situation here to nearby powerful entities, hoping they would dispatch the rat.

Yet, he hesitated. The battle that day had caused all lurking consciousness in the shadows to retreat—evidently, they all knew that the new master of the wizard's tower was not to be trifled with. Moreover, the succubus's very life now hung in the balance of the rat's whim. If enemies attacked, he would undoubtedly become cannon fodder.

The cursed fellow.

Such a predicament left the succubus Desandaro feeling utterly wretched, yet outwardly, he remained deferential. "My lord, do you not require an enhancement in strength?" he inquired.

Internally, the succubus plotted. If the rat were to delve into this abyssal spring for an upgrade, he would immediately find a way to dispatch it—during the advancement process, maintaining rationality amidst the chaotic forces would be challenging, presenting an opportunity for him.

However, evidently, the rat did not comply with his wishes. Not being a denizen of the abyss, it found the chaotic and potent abyssal energy within the spring repugnant and nauseating. Though it did not mind augmenting its strength, this method proved unacceptable. With a shake of its head, it turned and departed, leaving the succubus greatly disappointed. However, the sycophant and toady, Addi, apparently misread the situation: "Master! It would be such a waste to give up! This is the fastest way to enhance your power, Master!"

Bang!

A muffled sound, followed by a protracted scream, as Addi tumbled and plunged into the spring, quickly engulfed by the ocean of writhing worms, his cries becoming increasingly indistinct.

The demonic sorcerer, witnessing the source of this chaotic energy being squandered by the cunning rodent, felt a visceral pain that convulsed his very visage. His hatred towards the rat intensified, resolving to eventually eliminate this rodent just as he had done with his previous masters.

Yet, he seemed unaware that the contract he had signed in his semi-conscious state had already conveyed his thoughts to Belen. The rat, wavering unsteadily, made its way towards the wizard's tower, deciding to take a breather in Ferren first, intending to return and deal with this rebellious slave later.

It had already begun to regard the abyss as some sort of nesting ground.

......

"The Ancient Grimoire Lexicon, is it?" Panini plucked the dusty tome from the towering bookshelf, then gracefully descended from the footstool, extending the book towards the youthful, yet formally robed, woman.

The sorceress adjusted her glasses, scrutinizing the book before her with pupils that seemed to fluctuate in focus, fixed upon the cover for a considerable duration. Finally, she exhaled audibly, raising her head to nod at Panini. "I must apologize; the 'Eyes of the Celestial Avian' I had prepared for today have all been utilized. Therefore, I am grateful for your assistance. Might I inquire if you seek any recompense?"

"Recompense?" Panini hesitated momentarily, then waved his hand dismissively. "It was but a trifling matter; there's no need for thanks."

"A trifling matter warrants no thanks? Your logic is peculiar," the sorceress furrowed her brow.

"The peculiarity lies with you," Panini's expression turned enigmatic, unsure of who was being illogical.

"Please, call me Lyritha," the woman in the crimson robes said solemnly. "To receive kindness from another necessitates reciprocation; it is a matter of principle."

"Principle?" Panini fell silent for a moment, shaking his head. "I do not require your repayment."

"You do not? How magnanimous," Lyritha adjusted her glasses. "But I do, for the burden of indebtedness weighs heavily upon me."

"In truth, you need not repay anything," Panini found this sorceress rather difficult to communicate with and decided to concoct some excuses to dismiss her. "You are a formal adept, whereas I am but an apprentice."

"An ordinary apprentice would never gain entry to this place," the sorceress shook her head decisively. "Even if you are an apprentice, you could have declined the earlier offer, as I do not yet possess the authority to directly engage formal apprentices."

"Very well," Panini began to feel a headache coming on. "What recompense do you require for this simple task? If repayment is unattainable, would you return the book?"

"Of course not. So..." the woman in crimson robes pondered for a moment, then continued, "Would you be willing to assist me with another task?"

"Hmm?" The mage once again found himself baffled by the sorceress's convoluted thinking, but he watched as she extended her slender index finger and lightly wagged it. "If the level of 'trifling effort' is insufficient for you to deem it worthy of repayment, then perhaps by aiding me further, you would feel justified in requesting recompense. This way, once I've settled my debt, I won't have to worry about being indebted anymore."

"Your ideas are quite remarkable," Panini muttered, finding himself speechless at this peculiar logic.

"It's just an exchange of equivalents, a fundamental principle of the arcane," Lyritha snapped her fingers impatiently, her brow furrowing. "Do you agree?"

"But I wish to sleep," Panini shrugged, yawning. He was indeed quite tired.

"A potion for wakefulness," the sorceress produced a vial of liquid, her tone carrying a hint of insistence. Though she appeared slightly younger than Panini, her demeanor suggested a stature beyond her years.

In fact, that was the case, as Panini was an apprentice, whereas she was a fully-fledged adept in crimson robes. Though they were not under the same jurisdiction, there was evidently a hierarchy of status.

Panini nodded, acknowledging that occasional indulgence posed no significant issue. Moreover, he found himself genuinely intrigued by the crimson-robed woman. Just as Osyra had suggested, he hoped that some of his lingering questions might find answers in her words.

Using his perceptual domain, he scanned the potion and found no anomalies. Taking a sip, he immediately felt a refreshing sensation washing over his nerves. Although it didn't replenish his spell slots, his mind cleared, and the weariness on his face vanished. Lyritha nodded and gestured for him to follow her out of the reading room. "Come with me now."

"What task do you require of me?" Panini followed, inquiring.

"Just a simple archaeological endeavor," Lyritha replied. "Most of it is already completed, with just a small portion remaining. It's not worth postponing until tomorrow, but my eyes are clearly at their limit and require assistance."

"Nearsightedness is indeed a formidable foe for spellcasters," Panini glanced at the lenses protruding from the edges of her glasses, the distortion of his vision indicating a prescription of at least 800 diopters. He sighed inwardly, murmuring to himself that a mage with such impaired vision could only engage in research. If they were to take to the battlefield and encounter even the slightest issue with auxiliary divination spells, tragedy would be inevitable. Moreover, considering the loss of combat effectiveness from replacing an entire row of first-level spells with "Eagle Wing Angel's Eyes," it made one appreciate the spread of eye exercises in the realm.

Seizing this opportunity, he took a moment to scrutinize Lyritha's countenance in his state of clarity.

To be honest, with a shaven head, the allure of even the most beautiful girl would be diminished by at least half. Even though this crimson-robed woman had a delicate appearance and a small streamlined tattoo on her forehead, it lacked beauty in Panini's eyes; it resembled more of a nun.

However, the petite figure of the crimson robe exuded a certain fragility while walking, a rarity considering Ferren's preference for more voluptuous curves. Yet, in the sensibilities of souls from another world, such attributes seemed scarce.

The woman's calm and unrushed demeanor in conversation also brought a sense of freshness to Panini. Thus, as he observed this slender "nun," he found himself somewhat appreciating her.

However, he suddenly realized that he would soon become a monk, and his mood soured.

Amidst his musings, Lyritha's voice came from ahead, responding to Panini's sigh with a hint of resignation. "It's inevitable; family inheritance is beyond our control. By the way, could you tell me your name? I've already introduced myself, so it would be impolite of you not to reciprocate."

"Indeed, it would be impolite. My name is Panini Xien. If we're not too familiar, you can just call me Xien," Panini replied.

"Oh, Xien, we're almost there. Wait in this room for a moment while I fetch the documents and wake up the other lazy one," Lyritha said as she approached a small door, unlocking it while speaking to Panini.

"The other... lazy one?"

"Investigating alongside my companion usually results in faster progress," Lyritha remarked as she ushered Panini into the room.

Inside the modest chamber, apart from a central long table, lay a heap of artifacts crafted from bronze and rugged stones, covered in a layer of dust. This sight reminded Panini that these objects seemed to have been unearthed from the depths of a trench. Curiously, he inquired of Lyritha, "What are all these?"

"They're part of our archaeological findings—scraps unearthed by several junior mage apprentices at a minor relic site," Lyritha explained with a shake of her head. "Several senior mentors have inspected them; they're all deemed worthless. Once our task is complete, they'll be discarded."

"I see..." Panini nodded in realization, examining the "scraps." He noticed a familiarity in the style of some items. Although he hadn't seen them before, he quickly deduced where this sense of familiarity originated. "Does that relic site trace back to Eimaska?"

Turning back from where she had just walked, Lyritha heard Panini's words, casting a surprised glance at him, a hint of delight in her expression. "You actually recognize it. It seems you're indeed different from the typical apprentice; they rarely interact with such objects."

"Perhaps," Panini shrugged. "It's just a passing interest."

"Very well. With your presence, I'm more confident in completing the task. Wait here for me," Lyritha said, turning to leave the room and closing the door behind her.

Alone in the room, Panini searched for a while before finally focusing on the "relic artifacts." Due to his memories related to such things, he held a keen interest in Eimaska. However, after inspecting them, he found nothing of value among the heap of ancient objects, even after employing his magical abilities.

He could only shake his head and accept the reality. Finding treasures in relics depended on chance. If a certain excavation unearthed the ancient empire's lavatory, hoping to find treasures within would be nothing short of a dream.

Pulling out a chair, Panini sat beside the desk. While waiting, a long-dormant connection suddenly sent a strong signal to his mind. Opening his eyes, he witnessed a small spatial fissure open in the air beside him, from which emerged a figure covered in silver fur.