A Commodity to be Hoarded

What is going on?

Lynch struggled to restrain the urge to pick his ears; he was currently doubting not only his hearing but his own sanity as well.

Among the supernatural powers of this world, aside from the rarely seen legendary Soul Severers, those with level eight or level nine authority were the absolute peak of combat strength. They were strategic assets, much like the nuclear weapons of his past life; a single nation might not even possess a handful of them. For instance, in Rhine City, the top-tier combat force was supposedly a level eight Soul Severer whose name was... Olei?

Lynch’s mouth twitched. The feeling was exactly like opening his front door one morning to find someone standing there, shouldering a nuclear bomb and smiling at him.

It wasn't exactly fear or tension, because his mind struggled to accept the concept; there was always a sense of unreality to it.

The old gentleman, President Olei, was eighty-five years old. Dressed in formal attire, he had a full head of white hair, a monocle, and a pair of upward-curled mustaches. Every time his lips moved, his mustache seemed to come alive, making him look quite amusing.

The old gentleman squinted through his monocle at Lynch. Every time he spoke, his eyebrows and mustache moved in unison, giving him a vivid, spirited presence that Lynch found quite endearing.

"Student Lynch Levive, we have heard that you also operate as an antique detective. To ensure your archaeological knowledge does not suffer from errors and that you can handle the needs of your work, we represent the Archaeological Association to test you. First question: at the end of the Third Age, there was a city called Zur-Baha-Sahr in the former Kingdom of Lande region, said to have been built by some kind of aberrant race. Based on contemporary cities, the architecture there should have been the wood-shingle structures common at the end of the Third Age. However, some scholars believe that city was unique and still utilized the megalithic structures of the late Second Age. Different schools of thought often argue over this. Now, please answer: was it a wood-shingle structure or a megalithic one?"

"Wait, wait, wait. I'm not up for a promotion review, so why is there suddenly a test? Furthermore, I studied middle-level education, and the curriculum only traces back to the mid-Fourth Age. Who knows what the end of the Third Age was like? Your exam content is already out of bounds. Also, this isn't right..."

If not for the plaster cast on his leg, Lynch felt he would have already jumped out the window to escape. Instead, he could only lie in bed and accuse them wildly:

"This isn't an exam, is it? There is no logic in testing a student with a question that even professional academic schools cannot agree upon. You clearly know something and have come here specifically to commit academic plagiarism, haven't you?"

"Hmm? It seems the news was accurate." The old gentleman danced with excitement, his eyes gleaming. Even his raspy voice brightened. "That is not important. I have been holding this in for sixteen days. Tell me, what exactly is it?"

"It is stone. Large, massive stones."

"How is that possible!"

Professor Dartmond let out a cry of disbelief, and President Olei’s face scrunched up as he asked loudly:

"Are you certain? That makes no sense. Lande did not lack timber in that era; Zur-Baha-Sahr should have transitioned accordingly."

Watching the two little old men, whose combined age exceeded one hundred and fifty, fussing like children, Lynch felt no offense despite being questioned. Instead, he found it amusing and spread his hands.

"I am certainly not mistaken. As for the reason, I do not know, but the city's architecture, including the doors and furniture, was mostly made of stone. I suspect it was a deliberate choice. Perhaps it had to do with the inhabitants. Those aberrants were far stronger and faster than ordinary people; I highly doubt wooden objects would last more than a few minutes in their hands. Moreover, they seemed to live in symbiosis with the Formless Ones. I do not know if those aberrants would have destroyed the wood."

"They would, they certainly would. So ghouls in the Dark Age lived in symbiosis with the Formless Ones. Quick, give me paper and a pen!"

The old gentleman had completely lost his gentlemanly composure. Lynch even suspected that if he were a second too slow, the level eight powerhouse might prepare to hit him. Considering the other party had the strength to demolish Apartment 221 with a wave of his hand, Lynch immediately took a pen and paper from the nightstand and respectfully handed them over.

President Olei wrote rapidly, recording Lynch's words with intense fascination. Suddenly, he looked up, his small eyes staring at Lynch pitifully: "Is there anything else? Tell me everything."

It seems this is what academic talent in this other world looks like.

Lynch’s heart softened, and he comforted him like a child: "There is much more, and it is quite complex. How about I organize my thoughts over the next few days, and when I return to the school, I will recount my experiences there to you?"

"Are you certain?" Both old gentlemen’s hands trembled simultaneously as they stopped to stare at Lynch. "This knowledge is a blank space in archaeology; every item is a historical mystery. Are you truly willing to make it public to us?"

"Hmm?" Lynch’s breath hitched, as if he realized something.

"I know you have just entered the world of mystery and are lacking startup funds," President Olei said quite self-awarely. "Do not worry, child. We will not take this knowledge for free; we will pay you for it."

"No, no, I do not want money. Taking money would be beneath my dignity. I am a student of archaeology; how could I possibly accept payment for sharing knowledge with my teachers and the Archaeological Association? That would be an insult to me."

Lynch’s expression shifted from confusion to sudden realization. His brow smoothed, and a wicked smile appeared on his face. He rubbed his hands together and said:

"I would call this public reading, or perhaps a free trial. However, if you wish to continue using and reading the remaining parts, well... you might have to pay a small price."

"The remaining parts?"

"Yes, for instance, accidentally excavating the entire ruin."

Bang.

The chair beneath the old president turned into wood shavings. The eighty-five-year-old man remained in a half-squatting position at the bedside, staring at him: "Are you serious? You didn't enter by special means? You even know the exact location? Or do the hillmen know?"

"Is this city truly that important?"

Lynch suddenly realized he might have truly struck gold; this ancient city was far more precious than he had understood.

"It is very precious. It can fill several gaps in archaeology and solve many mysteries. The dispute between stone and wood I mentioned is just one of them. There are many others."

"What about outside of archaeology?" Lynch recalled the ghouls in the sewers and their obsession with excavating the city.

"Then it only has significance for the ghoul population." President Olei did not doubt him and instead explained as if lecturing a student. "The ghoul population is now classified as mysterious aberrants, similar to the deep-sea mermen, the subterranean snake-men, or the sewer rat-men, rather than a minority or special group of the current world. Do you know why?"

Lynch shook his head in curiosity.

"Origins. Minorities or special creatures, like the elves and dwarves of the ancient continent, may be few in number, but they can trace themselves back to a city of origin. Mysterious aberrants have no origin; they can only be considered evil entities that have infiltrated from the Dreamlands—they are monsters."

Hiss. Lynch drew a sharp breath, finally understanding why Elder Bru’s tribe didn't care about the faith of Mordiggian but were so keen on excavating Zur-Baha-Sahr.

"Yes, as long as Zur-Baha-Sahr can be excavated, the ghoul population might be reclassified as a special creature category rather than mysterious aberrants. Although their diet remains a matter of debate, it would mean they could live normally under the sun. Therefore, it is incomparably important to most ghouls."

"I understand."

Lynch revealed a wicked smile, and only one idiom from his homeland swirled in his mind.

A commodity to be hoarded.

The avatar of the evil god in Zur-Baha-Sahr had already been destroyed. The place had become an ordinary ruin, and for guardians like Elder Nikolai, it had lost its meaning. Whether the tunnel was built or the ancient city was excavated, the hillmen no longer cared.

But this change in attitude was only known to the hillmen themselves. If this information gap were managed correctly, it could likely bring enormous benefits to the hillmen, the Valente family, and himself. After thinking for a moment, the more Lynch considered it, the more feasible it seemed. He smiled at the old gentleman, Olei:

"I will definitely pay a visit in two days to conduct an academic exchange. If the timing is right, I will discuss a further cooperation plan with you, Mr. President."

No academic would refuse such a proposal. Even if the old president knew Lynch had ulterior motives, he agreed without hesitation. They set the time and place and immediately stood up to leave. After all, not only did Lynch need to prepare for the academic exchange in a few days, but they needed to prepare even more; they had to make use of every minute.

After seeing off the two old children, Lynch fell into deep thought. This matter certainly had to be discussed with Miss Valente after she awoke. In reality, the city was on the Valente family's land, and the location was held by the hillmen. Even if the commodity was sold, the main beneficiaries would still be those two parties, but for him, the middleman... earning a price difference was only natural. As long as he facilitated the cooperation between the two sides, hehe, arcane arts, abilities, mystery relics, mystery potions—as long as he had money, what couldn't he get? Hehe.

Therefore, Grant, those allied organizations of his, the sewer ghouls, and this newly appeared Archaeological Association—sorry, please act as my ATM for the time being. It seems resisting the evil god was not a wasted trip; cleaning up Zur-Baha-Sahr is the true reward.

Moreover, these were secondary; the path of immortality was the most urgent need.

Lynch checked that no one was in the bedroom and pulled out the red moon statuette that constantly emitted a faint moonlight.

It held the memory of the Red Moon, carrying the death authority snatched from the avatar of Mordiggian.