The lich's spellbook was well kept in his dimensional pouch, but the problem was that he couldn't use the spells in it even if he could remember them - he didn't know if it was the case with other penitent lichs, he couldn't cast spells that contained negative energy, not even the simplest rays of negative energy, and after tearing open a scroll of sadism, it didn't hurt anyone but his hand.

He had several spellbooks "taken" from other mages, very subtle and useful, but they were all placed in a safe place by him - for a lich - and he had been so eager and meticulous in setting up so many traps, traps, and traps that were closely related to the cold and powerful negative energy. The golem and the teleportation circle, without a single omission, kept the present deity far away, he could not reach, not even see or hear, for which the lich cursed himself and the abominable otherworldly soul ten thousand times until he was desperate to stop thinking about it.

The spellbook from the thief was a small bonus, its cover and paper were nothing special, neither human skin nor demon skin, just ordinary waterproof goatskin paper, and the special ink for copying spells could only be said to be mediocre, there were no high-level spells in it, it was very common - the lich thought that the mage might belong to a ship, because the spells written on the most broken pieces of paper were basically related to wind, floating, teleportation, and ranged attacks.

The lich took off his boots, opened the window to let the starlight into the room, illuminated the small bed, and the spellbook rested on his knees, he chose the position he could, put his hands in a tower shape, and began to concentrate on solving every spell he needed. The boring spellbook consumed an entire day, and on the third day, the lich began to memorize the spells on it and copy the scrolls.

He used the last scroll on the Golden Lady's mage that had nothing to do with evil or negative energy, and the lich admitted that it was a small adventure, and although it was only a strong acid arrow spell, it was released for murder, and he didn't know if the eyes in the dark would allow him to do so.

He succeeded, and the lich speculated that perhaps because the mage had already stood in opposition to justice, just as the otherworldly soul that dwelt in his body killed the three evil thieves without condemnation, ending the life of an evil man would not punish him - perhaps one of the ways to repent of his sins? He looked forward to it, but he didn't get a hint of it, no light, no warmth, no flowers, he expected it but couldn't help feeling resentment and anger.

He had read a lot in the Guru's Tower, and he knew that his atonement could last for hundreds, thousands, thousands of years...... Even if nations are destroyed, races are extinguished, continents are shattered, and gods fall - as long as he is not destroyed by those who have not forgiven and forgotten him. When will it end? Where will it end? No one knows. This body will be his strongest shackles and the clearest evidence of his guilt, and he will be alone, controlled, manipulated, and subjected to never-ending humiliation, betrayal, and harm.

Just to die peacefully like a kind mortal?

On the fifth day, when the ship's cook brought him bread, the lich calmly threw a hurtful sound wave at the fat, cheerful humanoid goblin.

The spell failed, the power was withdrawn from his body, he shrunk on the damp floor, the fat and dirty toes of the cook in front of him, and the most terrifying thing for the lich was that his mind went blank, he could no longer remember a single syllable of the spell, a gesture, the whispers, the brilliant streamers, the subtle touches that had accompanied him since he was born, all gone, gone, he no longer possessed magic.

The formless and majestic presence coldly pressed him into the depths of the sea of consciousness, and the lich received a glimpse of mercy as he passed the otherworldly souls floating above.

The otherworldly spirit calmed the panicked cook, thanked the captain, first mate, and Yellow Eyes who came to visit him, and ate a whole stewed chicken on the pretext of needing nourishment, copying an entire day's scroll instead of the lich, wasting half a bottle of precious gem dragon's blood ink and three rolls of fish-human paper.

The lich thought that his punishment was severe enough, but it backfired, and on the seventh day, it was still the vile thief who possessed and used the body, and the undead's connection with the outside world gradually became blurred, and he was finally thrown into nothingness - he thought he would scream, he would cry, he would go crazy, but how can you do that when you don't have a throat, eyes, or brain, so when he returned to the surface, the caster showed an unusual apathy and sobriety.

――How are you feeling?, the outsider asked with concern.

- Very well, said the lich, glad he didn't show weakness in his procrastination, how many days has this been?

-- Tomorrow we'll be in the Castle -- Do you know what it means to be no---no-die?

- Just an experiment, said the lich.

- Don't do it again, the soul of the other world yawned, and you weren't happy in vain, he muttered, sinking down.

Not for the time being, the lich said to himself, taking control of the body.

The windows of the cabin were open, the sea breeze flapped at the paper on the table, and the lich walked over to hold it up and examine it carefully, the light of magic flowing and flickering in the black and red lines, a scroll that had been made. He put the scroll back in the dimensional bag, his fingers stroking the spell book, and depending on the position of the stars, he had about a quarter of a night to choose the spells he might need tomorrow.

For the first time, he had failed to find joy and satisfaction in memory spells, feeling magic flowing through his body.

After memorizing the spell he needed, the lich did not stay in the room, he walked out the door, and the strong sea breeze immediately enveloped him, and a new day was coming, spinning day by day, the light of the near-vertical magical galaxy was gone, the huge arc-shaped dome was a brilliant purple blue, and the sea to the east was already glowing like a gold coin.

"Morning, sir. The sailors greeted him briskly, and their leader knew better, so he smiled and asked, "Have you done your homework?"

"Yes. The lich said, "We're going to get to Cape Fortress tomorrow, aren't we?"

"Yes," said the captain, "we have had a smooth and short journey, and we are sorry that we are very fond of you, sir. He paused for a moment, then turned to look at his guest, "Now that you've got some time to spare, I wonder if you'd like to have dinner with us, to celebrate and say goodbye?"

The caster should have tried to refuse, but now that he knew how to reclaim the humility he had long abandoned, he simply thanked the captain and set a time with him.

The dinner was sumptuous, of course, but the lich keenly sensed that the men were trying to entertain him, telling spooky jokes, telling strange and strange romances, the cook giving him the largest portion of butter and the largest peaches, and the skinny ship doctor showing a set of needles from the distant and closed Seris, pure gold, which were said to have different effects when inserted into the acupuncture points of the human body, and to make life and death.

When their guests showed interest, the others began to eat and laugh, for the ship's doctor had not been able to find a single acupuncture point until now, and the greatest effect of the golden needles on the Sparrow was to pick the teeth.

"You may have noticed," said the captain, who now stood with his guests on the port side, near the bow, the evening breeze stirring the sails, tiny droplets splashing on their clothes, and the crew eating and singing in the captain's chambers, "I hope you don't get mad at them for these superfluous things." ”

"I won't. Said the lich. He knew why the captain said that, they didn't know that this body was occupied by two souls, and they only saw a likable fellow suddenly become withdrawn and aloof, and of course they would think that he was being troubled by something that could not be appealed to.

"If you need help with something......"

"No," replied the lich quickly but gently, amazed at how the otherworldly soul had been able to gain the trust and friendship of these mortals in such a short period of time, and without his help, the idiot hadn't even fully mastered the lingua franca: "Sorry, but ......"

The captain shook his head unhesitantly, and he untied his short dark brown cloak, flipped it over and put it back on, the reverse of the cloak was a dark gray silk, and a coin sized Su Lun emblem - seven silver stars around a pair of female eyes, above the lumbar vertebrae, which was almost impossible to see when the side was facing inwards - unless the man had his remarkable eyesight.

"Coubert of the Sparrow. The captain said, holding out his right hand.

The lich looked down at the hand—the hand of the Goddess of the Moon, Suron.

"Cremar. ”

He said, gently shaking the rough, broad hand.