The Dean's words had a certain effect on Lyle's heart, and when he returned to the Necromancer Figure Club, the horrifying sensation still lingered, with his hair standing on end as if nesting on his spine.
"Dean, could it be that you've known my identity all along?"
The deeper Lyle delved into his thoughts, the more hesitant he became. He looked at the Lich Crown in his hand... the crown that was in Nia's hands, after the end of the Spiral Corridor, the ownership of the crown had easily changed.
Lyle looked at the crown, the poor thing now drenched in Nia's saliva.
"It sure doesn't look like an artifact should," but Lyle still remembered that brief sensation, when the crown came into his own hands, the flow of magic power inside him was instantaneous and structured. More orderly than when under his own intervention, as if... as if soldiers had seen the monarch they had sworn loyalty to.
