A week later, Aryadovi City was still running itself as usual.
The undead had no need for rest; day and night made no difference to them.
But at that moment, every undead in the city stopped what they were doing and looked in the same direction.
That was where Aryadovi City's magic lay, and strange ripples were emanating from it.
Those ripples felt like some ancient monster, buried for countless years, crawling out of its coffin.
The Contract Undead in Aryadovi City immediately realized what was happening and headed toward the Magic District at once.
Before they had taken more than a few steps, all the undead in the city saw a scene.
A man draped in a gray cloak, his body gaunt and shriveled like a corpse freshly dug out of a coffin, was walking forward.
With every step he took, some moisture and luster returned to his body. After seven steps, the man had regained Gu Xi's original appearance.
He raised his head and looked around in confusion.
Only after a long while did he say,
"Being force-fed by wisdom feels awful."
Over the past seven days, Gu Xi had claimed to be asleep, but he had not actually been sleeping. Instead, he had been brainwashed by the knowledge inside the Magic Tower.
That was the miserable part of binding the Ghost King Cloak, and also why binding it required a place like a Magic Tower.
During those seven days, Gu Xi had felt as if he had lived through seven centuries.
Throughout those seven hundred years, Gu Xi had studied without pause. Whenever he wanted to stop, endless knowledge would be poured into his mind.
Gu Xi had even wondered why the Ghost King Cloak had anything to do with knowledge. Wasn't this supposed to be a