Chapter 3

Wang Qinan only realized now how tragic his situation was as a lich, an incomplete variety. Physiologically, he was a lich, but he still had a bit of luck. Although he felt like a lich, he had no sense of pain or any physical sensation; his perception was merely from a soul's perspective, which was quite peculiar. However, Wang Qinan did not mind too much. Becoming a lich came with a price, and this was his choice.

However, the fact that a lich did not have a phylactery was a shocking blow. He trembled as he pieced together the shattered phylactery. The mithril and obsidian had lost their function, and the engraved magic arrays were already broken. Nicholas Andrew's soul had long since departed to meet the so-called Death God.

Wang Qinan extended his hand, made a gesture, and chanted a spell, but nothing happened. This was not necromancy but a simple fireball spell. The difference between a lich and a regular necromancer was that a lich could not use any other type of magic except necromancy. Other mages, to varying degrees, knew some common spells. Even a water mage could cast a fireball, though with minimal power, by invoking the magic elements through incantations.

Wang Qinan tried other common spells from different schools, but his heart sank as nothing worked. He was still uncertain and recited, "Death is the destiny of all things, Bone Cage!" A black mist rose, and bones appeared out of nowhere, layering to form a bone cage. He then dispersed the cage.

He was certain he was no longer a necromancer but a lich. His body and magical characteristics all proved he was a lich, but he lacked the fundamental aspect of a lich—the phylactery.

Wang Qinan fell to the ground, powerless. If someone were to destroy his body now, he would likely never recover. Another issue was how long his current form would last. Nicholas Andrew's transformation had drained the life essence from this body.

He sat on the ground in a daze. It was midnight, and Wang Qinan did not know that at the moment of Nicholas Andrew's death, his servants also felt a sudden pain, their bodies curling up as if pierced by a large hook, sweating profusely. However, they dared not cry out due to Nicholas Andrew's tyranny.

After a while, the pain subsided, and they felt a layer of shackles lifted from their bodies. The servant contracts in their minds vanished, and they felt a sense of freedom. Strangely, Nicholas Andrew's death did not kill them, though it should have.

The servants were confused but felt a surge of hope with the disappearance of the contracts. They were not willing servants to Nicholas Andrew but were bound by the magical contracts. Now, with the contracts gone, they cautiously expressed their dissatisfaction, but there was no reaction.

One of them, unable to believe it, bit his lip and cursed Nicholas Andrew in his mind. To his amazement, there was no reaction, and he was overjoyed. However, he restrained himself, lying still, unsure of what had happened. He did not realize that Nicholas Andrew's death should have killed them due to their contracts.

In another room of the castle, a young man slept. He was Nicholas Andrew's apprentice, Allen Watson. He was not truly asleep but alert, knowing that Nicholas Andrew was undergoing the lich transformation ritual, which allowed no room for error. He was a fourth-level necromancer, recently reaching the elemental sensing stage, though Nicholas Andrew had not noticed.

Allen faced a choice. His teacher had been obsessed with revenge against the Creator Church for months. He knew the Church was a monstrous and hopeless entity and had to consider his own safety. In Teryn, the Creator Church, while viewing other gods as heretical, treated mages differently. It accepted mages of any school as long as they pledged loyalty, calling them lost lambs. This policy attracted many talents, including necromancers. However, becoming a lich was considered heretical, as it challenged the Creator's rule over life.

Allen did not want to die with Nicholas Andrew. Once he became a lich, he would be at odds with the Church. For his own survival, he decided to betray Nicholas Andrew.

Wang Qinan's mind was in turmoil. At eighteen, he had little life experience, and although he had Nicholas Andrew's memories, they could not instantly become his own.

After a while, he calmed down. Years of illness had made him stronger in the face of pain. Now, with hands, feet, and magic, he was determined to fight.

Once he made up his mind, his eyes showed determination. He had planned to leave immediately but decided to give the Church a lesson. As an Earthling, he had little faith in religion and did not view gods with the same reverence as the natives.

With his knowledge from Earth, he had no qualms about using any means. This world still had some chivalry, but he did not.

Wang Qinan felt his body. A lich's blood still circulated, but very slowly, with an indescribable energy. His body temperature was close to the environment, making a lich a special kind of being. The body's decay was very slow, and if injured, the wound would not affect his activity for a long time.

He tidied up the altar and calmed down. He had two months to face the Inquisition. Although he was a lich, he was still insignificant compared to the vast Church. However, he was not willing to give up. If he had to leave, he would give the Inquisition a lesson, showing them not to underestimate him.

Wang Qinan went to his alchemy lab, which was more like a biological dissection room. It contained various dark magic creatures, two devil corpses, and some body parts.

After a while, he shook his head and left, heading to the storage room. A bronze cannon caught his eye, a collection of Nicholas Andrew's. This world was in a late medieval period, and cannons were already in use, though not very powerful. They were mainly matchlock guns and bronze cannons, using alchemical gunpowder, which was less accurate. Most mages were uninterested, preferring their personal magic, which was more reliable and powerful.

Wang Qinan, however, was intrigued. Coming from a technologically advanced Earth, he was naturally inclined towards firearms. He found gunpowder, shot, and a flintlock pistol, a sinister smile appearing on his face.

Wang Qinan examined Nicholas Andrew's collection, never intending to face the Inquisition in a fair duel. He would use any means necessary unless he was far superior to his enemies.

Wang Qinan lacked confidence, doubting his magic could win. This was not his fault, coming from a place where magic was just a legend.

He found a staff-like object, over a meter long, with a monster's head at one end, a snake-lizard hybrid. It looked like a staff, but from Nicholas Andrew's memories, it was a sword cane. He drew the sword, a thin rapier made of fine steel, with a mithril-etched magic array, making it a magic sword.

He thrust forward, channeling magic into the sword, which glowed dimly. An idea struck him, and he stopped. Why not disguise himself as a swordsman or a regular mage?

This thought opened his mind, and he began planning his escape identity. He could not appear as a lich or use necromancy, but he could not perform other magic either.

This was not a problem for Wang Qinan, as there were precedents in this world. He could use magic arrays to achieve the transformation.

Wang Qinan, determined, took some tanned magic beast hides and returned to the lab. Liches did not need sleep, so he worked in the lab, creating two wrist guards. This idea was unique to his world. He etched the magic arrays with beast blood and mithril, then added a layer to conceal them.

After completing the wrist guards, he put them on, chanted a spell, and said, "Fireball." A fireball appeared and dissipated. He estimated its power to be equivalent to a fifth or sixth-level mage.

This was not enough. He needed to completely hide his identity.