A Rare Commodity

What was going on?

Lynch had to try very hard to restrain himself from cleaning out his ears. Now, he wasn't just doubting his ears—he was questioning his sanity as well.

In this world, aside from the exceptionally rare legendary Soul Severers, rank eight or rank nine authority Soul Severers represented the absolute peak of power. They were strategic assets, akin to nuclear weapons in his former life—a nation had only a handful of them at most. Rhine City, for example, had a single rank eight Soul Severer as its top power, whose name seemed to be... Olei?

Lynch's mouth twitched. Right now, he felt as if he had opened his front door in the morning only to find someone shouldering a nuclear warhead and smiling at him.

It wasn't even fear or nerves; his brain simply struggled to process the concept, giving him an overwhelming sense of surrealism.

The elderly gentleman, President Olei, was eighty-five years old. Dressed in formal wear, he had a head of white hair, wore a monocle, and sported a pair of upturned mustaches that twitched lively whenever his mouth moved, making him look rather amusing.

Holding his monocle in place, the old gentleman narrowed his eyes at Lynch. When he spoke, his eyebrows and mustache moved in unison, exuding a lively, vibrant energy that immediately gave Lynch a good impression of him.

“Student Lynch Levive, we hear you moonlight as an antique detective. To ensure your knowledge of archaeology contains no errors that might hinder your work, we have come on behalf of the Archaeological Association to test you. First question: At the end of the Third Age, in the region of the former Kingdom of Lande, there was a city named Zur-Baha-Sahr, said to have been built by a certain species of heteromorphs. Based on inferences from other cities of that era, the buildings there should have been the wood-shingle structures common at the end of the Third Age. However, some scholars believe the city was unique and still utilized the megalithic structures of the late Second Age. Academic factions frequently debate this point. Please answer: Was it a wood-shingle structure or a megalithic structure?”

“Wait, wait, wait! I'm not applying for a professional title, so why am I suddenly taking an exam? Besides, I received a secondary education—the curriculum only traces back to the middle of the Fourth Age! Who knows anything about the end of the Third Age? This material is completely beyond my syllabus! Wait, no, that's not right...”

If his leg hadn't been encased in a cast, Lynch felt he would have already jumped out the window to escape. As it was, he could only lie on the bed and accuse them frantically:

“This isn't an exam at all! Who tests a student with a question that even professional academic schools can't agree on? You clearly know something and came to my door specifically to commit academic plagiarism!”

“Hmm? It seems the rumors were true.” The old gentleman danced around with excitement, his eyes gleaming brightly, and even his raspy voice grew lively. “That doesn't matter! I've been holding this in for sixteen days! Quick, tell me—which was it?”

“Stone! Big blocks of stone!”

“How is that possible?!”

Professor Dartmond cried out in dismay from the side, while old President Olei's face crumpled as he demanded loudly:

“Are you sure you aren't mistaken? That makes no sense! Lande didn't lack timber in that era, so Zur-Baha-Sahr should have transitioned along with the times!”

Watching the two old men—whose combined age exceeded one hundred and fifty years—bicker like children, Lynch didn't feel offended despite being questioned. Instead, he found it rather amusing and spread his hands.

“I'm definitely not mistaken. As for the reason, I don't know, but most of the buildings in the city—even the doors and furniture—were made of stone. I imagine it was an intentional choice. Perhaps it was related to the inhabitants. Those heteromorphs possessed speed and strength far exceeding ordinary humans; I severely doubt wooden items could last more than a few minutes in their hands. Furthermore, they seemed to live in symbiosis with Formless Ones, so I don't know if those creatures damaged timber.”

“They would! Absolutely! So ghouls lived in symbiosis with Formless Ones during the Dark Age! Quick, give me paper and pen!”

The old gentleman had completely abandoned his dignified composure. Lynch even suspected that if he moved a second too slow, this rank eight expert might resort to violence. Considering the man possessed enough power to flatten the 221 apartment with a wave of his hand, Lynch hastily retrieved paper and pen from his nightstand and handed them over with utmost respect.

President Olei wrote furiously, recording every word Lynch said in a state of ecstasy. Then he suddenly snapped his head up, his small eyes staring pathetically at Lynch. “What else? Tell me everything!”

So this was what an academic scholar in an alternate world was like.

Lynch's heart softened, and he coaxed the old man like a child. “There's a lot more, but it's pretty scattered. How about I organize my thoughts over the next few days, and when I return to the college in a bit, I'll tell you both everything about my journey?”

“Are you sure?” Both old gentlemen paused, their hands trembling as they stared at Lynch. “This knowledge represents blank spots in archaeology—every item is a historical mystery! Are you truly willing to share it with us?”

“Hmm?” Lynch caught his breath as realization dawned on him.

“I know you've just stepped into the world of the occult and are short on startup capital,” President Olei offered thoughtfully. “Rest assured, child, we won't take this knowledge for free. We will pay you for it.”

“No, no, no, I don't want money! Taking money would lack class! I am a student of archaeology—how could I accept money for sharing knowledge with my professors and the Archaeological Association? That would be an insult to me!”

Lynch's expression shifted from confusion to enlightenment. His brows unfurled, a strange smile spreading across his face as he rubbed his hands together.

“I'd like to call it public reading, or a free trial. However, if you wish to access and read the remaining parts... well, that might come at a small price.”

“The remaining parts?”

“Indeed. For instance, accidentally excavating the entire ruin.”

The chair beneath the old president instantly shattered into sawdust. The eighty-five-year-old remained suspended in a half-squat by the bedside, staring intently at Lynch. “Are you serious? Didn't you enter through special means? Do you actually know the exact location? Or do the hillmen know?”

“Is this city really that important?”

Lynch suddenly realized he might have hit the jackpot. This ancient city was far more precious than he had imagined.

“Extremely precious! It can fill several blank spots in archaeology and solve many mysteries! The debate between stone and wood we just mentioned is only one of them; there are many more.”

“What about outside of archaeology?” Lynch recalled the obsession those sewer ghouls had with excavating the city.

“Then its only significance would be to the ghouls as a collective.” President Olei didn't suspect anything and instead explained as if lecturing a student. “Ghouls are currently categorized alongside the fishmen of the deep sea, the Snake Men of the underground, and the ratmen in the ditches—classified as mysterious heteromorphs rather than ethnic minorities or special species of the mortal world. Do you know why?”

Lynch shook his head out of curiosity.

“The origin. Ethnic minorities or special species, like the elves and dwarves of the Old Continent, may be few in number, but they can trace their roots back to an origin city. Mysterious heteromorphs, on the other hand, have no origin; they can only be regarded as evil heteromorphs that seeped over from the Dreamlands—monsters.”

Hss. Lynch gasped softly, finally understanding why Elder Bru's tribe didn't even care about their faith in Mordiggian, yet were so desperate to excavate Zur-Baha-Sahr.

“Yes. If Zur-Baha-Sahr can be excavated, ghouls might be reclassified as a special species rather than mysterious heteromorphs. Although their diet remains a matter of debate, it would mean they could live normally under the sun. That makes it unimaginably important to most ghouls.”

“I see.”

A devious smile spread across Lynch's face, a single idiom from his hometown looping continuously in his mind:

A rare commodity to hoard.

The evil god's avatar inside Zur-Baha-Sahr had already been destroyed, reducing the location to an ordinary ruin. To guardians like Elder Nikolai, it had lost its original purpose. Whether the tunnel was built or the ancient city was excavated no longer mattered to the hillmen.

However, only the hillmen themselves currently knew about this shift in attitude. If this information asymmetry was manipulated properly, it could bring massive profits to the hillmen, the Valente family, and himself.

After pondering for a moment, Lynch found the plan increasingly viable. He smiled at old President Olei. “In a couple of days, I will definitely pay a visit for an academic exchange. When the time is right, I will discuss a deeper cooperative plan with you, Mr. President.”

No scholar could refuse such a proposal. Even if the old president knew Lynch had ulterior motives, he agreed without hesitation. After settling on a time and place, he immediately rose to depart. After all, the upcoming academic exchange required preparation not just from Lynch, but even more so from them—they needed to seize every minute.

Having seen off the two old children, Lynch fell into deep thought. He would definitely need to discuss this with Miss Valente once she woke up. In truth, the city was located on the Valente family's fiefdom, and its location was known to the hillmen. Even if they sold this rare commodity, those two parties would be the main beneficiaries. But as the middleman... taking a small cut was only natural! As long as he facilitated the cooperation between both sides—hehe—arcana, abilities, mystery relics, secret medicines... with money, what couldn't he get? Hehe.

So, Chairman Grant, his allied organizations, the sewer ghouls, and this newly appeared Archaeological Association—sorry, but please act as cash machines for a while! It turned out confronting an evil god wasn't a fruitless effort after all; clearing out Zur-Baha-Sahr was the real payoff.

Besides, those were secondary. The path of immortality remained his most urgent need.

Seeing that no one was in the bedroom, Lynch took out the red moon statue, which constantly emitted a faint, eerie moonlight.

It carried the Red Moon Memories containing the death Divine Authority snatched back from Mordiggian's avatar.