From Hogwarts to Strixhaven.

Chapter 545 Half-Lich Carion
Leaving Yingxin and Xien, who were sleeping soundly together, Ivy went to the study to do her work.

After conveying Jahira's wishes to Halsin via a short message, he returned to Baldur's Gate with the materials needed for the Eternal Body ritual.

The Eternal Body Ritual will unite the lands of Jahira and Baldur's Gate, achieving a true unity of shared prosperity and shared ruin.

In short, it's equivalent to turning Jahira into a living earth spirit. For a high-ranking harpist who has been fighting for Baldur's Gate for over a hundred years, this is actually not difficult at all.

Ivy and Halsin only need to act as a bridge, guiding the power of the land into her body.

After agreeing on the specific details of the ceremony, Halsin left alone to set up the ceremony site underground, while Ivy approached Flame Fist, who was waiting in the palace, and asked them to send Viconia, who was in prison, a more comfortable sleeping bag and some books for her to enjoy.

After settling all the trivial matters, Ivy met an unexpected visitor—Rugan of the Zantalin Society, and his former boss, Zaris.

On the day of Gotash's coronation ceremony, Zaris was released as part of Gotash's show of goodwill.

Since there were hardly any prisoners left who were originally there to demonstrate the Grand Duke's authority, Gotash chose to grant all the prisoners their freedom with a pardon.

Under the auspices of the Bodhi Gate Gazette, Gotash became the most benevolent ruler in the history of the Bodhi Gate.

“What a rare guest, Rugen.” Ivy nodded to the Zantarim guild spy, who was still dressed in a black leather jacket. However, thanks to his cooperation with the guild, he no longer looked so down on his luck. Apart from the stubble on his face that he hadn’t shaved off, he looked presentable.

"You've come to invite me to Elf Song for a drink?" Ivy joked. He had initially said he would treat adventurers to a drink at Elf Song after rescuing Rugan, who was transporting goods for the Van Sampur family, a major client of the Santalin Society, from the jackals on the Path of Ascension.

However, the power struggles within the Santalite Order were no less intense than those within the Baldur's Gate Council. Rugan, who had completed a difficult mission, was branded a traitor and had to use all his mission rewards for bribes to avoid imprisonment.

“Perhaps next time, my lord.” Rugen smiled, took a step to the side, revealing Zaris behind him, a rather haggard-looking spy. “We’ve come to express our gratitude. Thank you for keeping your promise and allowing my boss to be free.”

“I’m no longer your boss, Rugan. You’ve managed the Zantalin Order very well while I was in jail.” Zaris was very sensible. It’s likely that the two remaining high-ranking members of the Zantalin Order had already spoken to each other before coming to see Ivy.
Ivy wasn't particularly interested in controlling the Saints' Tower, but she was quite willing to cooperate with them, especially given the Saints' Tower leadership's gratitude towards her.

"You've purged those traitors and avenged our people. Even if the people of Darkhold come here themselves, they won't say much." Zaris continued, using the praise of Rugan to express his stance to Ivy, "The reason those guys from Darkhold support Gortash is because of Bane, the god of tyranny. The Zantarins were once entangled with Bane and the Prince of Lies, Cyric. The old men of Darkhold probably still miss the days of serving evil gods, don't they?"

“You did a good job, Rugen. We’re just a smuggling ring, and not even the biggest underground organization in Baldur’s Gate. It’s best to stay out of this kind of dangerous business.” Zaris nodded finally and stopped.

“The current calm at Baldur’s Gate is nothing but a facade; beneath the surface, currents are surging. I imagine you’re not here just to express your gratitude, are you?” Ivy felt it was time to get down to business.

“That’s right…” The power transition in the Zantarim Guild went smoothly. After cooperating with the guild to wipe out the high-ranking members from Darkhold, Rugen has been officially appointed in the presence of Zaris. “This is related to a business deal of the Zantarim Guild.”

“You remember Woking’s hibernation site, right? We had a base there, controlling a road leading to the mining sites in the Underdark.” Rugan pulled a document from his pocket and placed it on Ivy’s desk. “However, because Duke Ravengard was attacked, we destroyed that base in hopes of escaping the official investigation. Unfortunately, we were later betrayed.”

“We had a hostage in that outpost. A painter from Baldur's Gate, who had a very famous patron who could give us a large ransom.”

Ivy used telekinesis to open the document on the table. It appeared to be an IOU, promising to pay the Santalite Order five thousand gold coins, or other valuables of equivalent value, upon a safe arrival at Baldur's Gate. It was signed with a rather artistic cursive script and a handprint that looked rather frustrated.

“Oscar Ferras?” Ivy read the name. “Is he not going to pay now?”

“No, no, no.” Rugan waved his hand. “His patron is Lady Ganas, a noble widow with a large estate in the Flower Ridge district.”

Flower Ridge is the best-looking area in the lower city of Baldur's Gate. It is located close to Baldur's Gate and the upper city walls that connect the upper and lower city areas. It is long and narrow and full of green spaces and parks, attracting a large number of art patrons and fashionable nobles to buy houses there.

Those who call themselves art pioneers wish they could spend all 365 days a year shuttling between various salon parties in the Flower Ridge district, making the wealthy and leisurely elites of Baldur's Gate pay for creativity and real art.

“Lady Ganas and Oscar Ferras got married, but back then the Zentalion Society wasn’t under our control, so when our debt collectors came looking for her recently, the newlywed Lady Ganas looked extremely surprised.” Rugan continued recounting the love story of the poor painter and his wealthy patron, “but she still paid the bill, and doubled it, just hoping we could help save her new husband.”

"Another kidnapping?" Ivy raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty much, except it was some kind of supernatural force that made the move." Rugan nodded and took out another letter. "It seems a ghost is bothering Mr. Oscar; he's become rather abnormal and erratic. And our intelligence agents even found this letter in his study."

“It wasn’t addressed to Mr. Oscar, but we all think it’s very suspicious.” Rugan pointed to the letter’s signature, “The Mystic Carion, a magical advisor who serves the wealthy, whose name is known even within the guild.”

Ivy glanced at the letter; its contents were simple, filled with suggestive language. The sorcerer Carion hinted to the recipient that he could communicate with the departed souls, fulfilling some of their psychic needs, and even requested a face-to-face meeting to discuss the price. At the end of the letter, the sorcerer also provided his address and the coded message for entering: "The Secret of the Dead."

In Ivy's view, the aura of necromancy was almost overflowing.

"Go on." Ivy noticed that Rugen hadn't finished speaking, and gestured with his chin. "What does the guild think about this?"

“The guild investigated this sorcerer, Carion. The guild investigated everyone who makes a living in the Baldur's Gate underworld, and of course, they wouldn't overlook a fellow who practices witchcraft.” Rugen paused, trying to bolster his courage. “However, the treasurer, Rotleaf, told me that the guild has lost several skilled members, and even their bodies have disappeared. I remember you mentioned that a necromancer is searching for his undead creation in the city using Flame Fist, so I boldly connected these events.”

Ivy did indeed share intelligence with the guild to some extent. They were involved in everything from finding the Hag to Will's dragon quest, so they were also aware that the Flamefist Commander in the Lower City had been mentally controlled by multiple different forces. In addition to the gathering of the demon Raphael and the Hag, the necromancers who hoped to find several undead creations through the Flamefist were also within the scope of this information sharing.

"You believe that the sorcerer Carion, who cast the spell to haunt the Ganas couple, was the necromancer who was trying to control Flame Fist?" Ivy nodded. "That is indeed a reasonable explanation."

"Have you visited this sorcerer, Carion?" Ivy asked.

"Not yet, I don't think we should..." Rugen was interrupted before he could finish speaking.

“Very good, lead the way. Let’s go and meet this sorcerer.”

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The necromancer Carion's house was located in a secluded corner of the lower city, and Ivy had already sensed the necromancy power leaking out as soon as she got close to it.

The stench of corpses and the chill of the eerie air enveloped the dilapidated houses, and residents passing by on the nearby streets couldn't help but wrap themselves tighter in their clothes and quicken their pace.

Even the roadside trees planted by the municipal government withered and died due to the abnormal necromancy magic.

“There’s no intention of hiding it at all.” Ivy sighed. He had thought this sorcerer, Carion, would be a hidden master. Now it seemed he was just a novice practicing some quackery.

The reason the organizations and groups responsible for maintaining order in Baldur's Gate haven't eliminated him is simply because most of them are just worms.

Bypassing a dragonborn druid who was constantly casting spells on a withered tree, Ivy, led by Rugen, headed straight for the wall of the dilapidated house. Although well disguised, the conspicuous magical aura betrayed Ivy's presence at the entrance to the house.

“You need to be prepared,” Ivy warned Rugan before he uttered the code. “It will definitely smell worse inside than outside.”

Wearing a black mask, Rugen recited the coded message, and the wall revealed the shape of a stone door, parting to one side.

The house appears dilapidated on the outside, with its doors and windows boarded up with thick wooden planks, but inside it is quite luxurious. Luxurious furniture and paintings by famous artists adorn every wall. If one could ignore the chilly atmosphere inside caused by the ghost, it would actually be a fairly livable space.

“Uh…” Rugan gasped for breath, “Even Carinthia’s slaughterhouse doesn’t smell this bad!”

Little Karinsan is located in the outer city of Baldur's Gate, north of the Dragonrock Bridge. Unlike Livington, which is known as the countryside, the people living there are barely referred to as Baldur by the city dwellers.

Baldur's Gate, a major port city, consumes an enormous amount of meat daily. To balance the freshness of the meat and the potential environmental pollution from slaughtering livestock, slaughterhouses were established in the outer city. The united Kalinsans largely took on this task, as they never identified themselves as Baldur.

In the lobby on the first floor, surrounded by several ghosts and ghouls, was a shriveled mummy. Judging from the various gemstone decorations on his body, this guy known as the sorcerer Carion had not completely lost his human emotions; at least he still had the mind to pursue artistic aesthetics.

“An uninvited guest,” the gaudy mummy, whose robes were adorned with jewels of all sizes, spoke, its voice like sawing wood, “and now you want to visit Carion.”

"Perhaps you have heard my name before, the sorcerer who can communicate with the realm of the veiled and swim freely in the abyss of death." A ball of grayish-green spiritual fire burned on the staff held by the mummy, emitting only a faint light and boundless chill. "What do you seek, stranger?"

Ivy looked the bizarre mummy up and down and asked, "Did you choose this state, or were you forced into it?"

The state of the mummy, or rather, the half-lich Kaleion, is very interesting.

For many necromancers, the ultimate dream is to transform into an immortal lich, which is undoubtedly a way to greatly prolong their existence.

This usually requires the mage behind the magic to drink a special potion and set up a ritual and magical items. While killing himself, he allows his soul to attach to the prepared items, creating a phylactery and completely transforming himself into an undead creature.

As long as the phylactery is not destroyed, the lich will not die completely. It is basically a complete application of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Transforming into a lich is certainly not all good. The consequences of letting necromancy permeate the soul are equally severe. A lich will completely lose the desires and emotions of the living and will usually become completely evil. No matter how upright and reliable one was when alive, becoming a lich represents a complete betrayal of humanity.

The sorcerer Carion before them was undoubtedly a fellow attempting to transform himself into a lich, but the process was only half successful.

He wasn't completely dead yet. Ivy could see that strange necromancy magic still connected several parts of his body, awkwardly maintaining his vitality.

Perhaps his destiny box is contained within it.

To create a life capsule from a living creature, and one that is part of one's own body. Ivy thought to herself with a touch of irony.

"You also study this art of life and death?" The half-lich Carion's voice was filled with surprise. "Why can't I see even the slightest sign of it?"

(End of this chapter)