Creation System: Reborn As A Fantasy Worldsmith

Chapter 330 A Sinners Testament; The Long Awaited Successor

Other students in the casket room looked at Lyrian as they spoke with each other. To them, Lyrian seemed to simply be frozen there. Standing over the casket. They couldn't see what he was doing, so they were forced to be patient and wait.

Lyrian, however, was in a completely different world right now. The loud voice that he just heard threw him off guard. As lashes of wind whipped at his skin, he turned to try and locate where the voice came from in this giant storm.

"Who are you? Where am I!" Lyrian suddenly shouted into the sky, as the voice replied.

"Centuries past, and yet virtue has been lost. My wish was not to harm you, but you have committed a grave sin!"

Lyrian was confused, "A grave sin!? What are you talking about!" He had no clue what the voice was saying. He didn't even know if it was addressing him at this point, since it was talking in such an odd language.

"Robbery of the dead! Thieving a grave! There is no such disrespect, that the dead can attain!"

"What?" Lyrian said under his breath, sounding genuinely confused. "That is a sin?" He looked down and questioned himself, before turning his head back up toward the sky where the voice sounded from. "That is why you are so angry!? Because I stole from your deceased corpse?" Lyrian yelled into the sky these words which any normal person would say are disrespectful.

"Fool!" The voice boomed back. This one word was far louder than even the others. Back to the normal tone, the voice continued, "You dare disrespec--" As the voice spoke, Lyrian yelled out, "That body is no longer yours!"

"What nonsense do you spout!?"

"To greed over what is already lost is nothing but ignorant avarice!"

"Ack--" The voice couldn't get a single syllable out.

"Orion The Great!" Lyrian yelled out before musing to himself, 'I don't know what this is, but I must get out of this situation in any way possible. If this is a set punishment for those who stole from his grave, then it most likely is something very dangerous.'

"You must not know it, but your grand name has been passed down through generations to be legendary!"

"Why say such words when you have already attempted to defile my grave, sinner!"

"You may think that I have tried to defile your grave, but in reality, all I have tried to do was continue your legacy!"

"What?"

"It is no different than your inheritance! I--"

"Of course, it is different than my inheritance!" Orion's voice cut Lyrian off abruptly, "The most valuable item which I have held in my grave is not to be taken!"

"But why not!? You say it is your most valuable item, but after your passing, is it not only a valuable item with no owner?"

"More foolishness!"

"Listen to what I have to say!"

After this, there stretched a moment of short silence, where Lyrian understood that his words were making some sense. Otherwise, Orion would not have let him continue. He hadn't convinced the magus at all, but at least he knew he was making some sort of dent.

"If I leave your wand in the hands of your past body, your hands will one day become dirt! If I leave this day without your wand in my hands, then that wand will be taken by bandits, who will strip it from your body, not as Orion's Grandeur Wand, but as a powerful, valuable wand with no owner."

Lyrian paused, as Orion's voice still didn't say a word. "That wand will no longer hold any merit, apart from its value. That wand will no longer hold the trials and tribulations that it went through with you. It will only be a stick with gems!"

"Hold your tongue, boy!"

'Damn... a bit too much. I'll tone it down.'

"All I want to say is that I knew what sin I was committing in your eyes before attempting to take your wand. However, I only want to take it, so that others don't. So that it doesn't fall into bad hands, and so that its legend is preserved..."

Finally, Lyrian finished with, "What do you think?" He paused, allowing his words to settle in, "That if I leave your wand here today, it will stay with you until the end of time!?"

"Of course not! Fool!" Orion's voice answered back to this direct challenge.

"Then tell me, what will happen!"

"My wand will one day..." Orion paused, as if in thought, "Be picked up by a successor. One that can continue my legacy! That is its fate!"

"Then why not let me be that successor!"

"What!?"

"I come from good wishes! I want to preserve your legacy!"

"That is not what I want in a successor! What I want is--"

Before he could speak, Lyrian interjected to make himself sound better, and not as though he was just copying Orion's words.

"Peace!" Lyrian yelled, stopping Orion's words. From the book of Ephiras Varant that he had read, he knew that Varant wanted peace between the two continents—The Mortal Plains—And the land of the elves, which Lyrian remembered was Eden something. Orion was an acquaintance of Varant, so Lyrian knew that, at the very most political level, they would want the same things.

"I know that you want peace between the two continents. Although right now, there are whispers of war spreading throughout the land."

Lyrian lied but knew he had to do so in order to get what he wanted in this situation.

"What!? We stopped that war long ago!"

"It has been centuries from then! Why do you think it is now that your grave has been discovered!"

Orion said naught. After another pause, Lyrian shouted, "Allow me to be the successor of your wand, great magus! I will use it efficiently, to carry your name, to fulfill its duty, and to establish peace between the two continents!"

Although it felt like a long time had passed for Lyrian, it wasn't at all the same in the outside world.

For others, the several minutes that Lyrian felt he spent in Orion's void was less than a few seconds.

Still, even this much was enough for some to begin getting a little concerned.

"Hey... he's been there for over 20 seconds now. Don't you think we should do something?" Jackson mused out loud, staring at the back of Lyrian.

"No... let him take however long he decides. If this truly is Orion's grave, there must be a reason he's taking so long."

Leon replied with a calm tone.

Inside the void, Orion was completely quiet, as if in deep thought.

"I don't have much longer."

Orion suddenly exclaimed as Lyrian furrowed his brows.

"What do you mean? Aren't you already deceased, great one?"

...

"Yes, but even the dead have their time limits in the realm of mortals."

"I see..."

"When I was dying, I created this graveyard for myself,"

At that moment, Lyrian felt as though he was suddenly transported to another place.

He was floating, above what looked to be a giant quarry in the ground.

Above him was a bright blue sky, and in the quarry were several men who looked like mages--working hard to create the graveyard that he was inside of today.

"I was extremely sick... or else, I would have created the damn thing by myself."

Orion seemed to let out a disappointed chuckle as he said this.

At this same time, it was almost as if the camera angle Lyrian was viewing shifted to show Orion on a wheelchair to the side.

He sat in front of a group of several mages, looking over the quarry where the graveyard was built.

Then, Lyrian was forced into Orion's body and viewed the quarry through his own eyes.

His eyes widened in shock as he comprehended the scale of the graveyard's creation. Every path, yet uncovered by stone, was visible from above. Without hesitation, Lyrian marked their current location and meticulously plotted the path his group had to take to reach the center.

The graveyard, still unfinished in some parts, revealed itself to Lyrian. The vivid image in his mind allowed him to strategize and plan their journey through the maze-like structure. It was a unique insight into the mind of the legendary warrior and the intricacies of the graveyard he had envisioned.

Orion's words hung in the void, leaving Lyrian intrigued and curious. Inside the mysterious space, Lyrian felt a connection with the great warrior as he continued to speak.

Orion, still looking over the construction of his own grave, continued with a sense of nostalgia in his voice. "I cast a spell here a long ago, where I should stay in spirit form, locked into this realm."

Lyrian, puzzled, asked, "Locked in spirit form? So you purposefully trapped yourself here?"

Orion sighed, "Yes, but even in death, I am bound by certain rules. I can not stay here forever. I knew this, yet still went along with it."

"Is it because of what you said? To find a successor?"

"Precisely that. Boy, I've lived a life that can not be fathomed by the normal mind. It would take a century just to explain it all. I do not want to let it go to waste."

Lyrian didn't say anything, allowing the magus to continue.

"However, my time is nearly up now, and this is the first time that anyone has come too far in this grave. And from what I understand, it is the last time. So, I must give you my wand, whether I like it or not."

Still, Lyrian said naught. It appeared his not speaking was working quite well.

"Lyrian Theageld,"

'Wait... how did he know my name.'

"Even though you are demonic in nature, for some odd reason... I shall bestow upon you my Grandeur Wand."

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