"This is a lich, the equivalent of a low-level psychic among undead creatures. Its greatest trait is that it can completely retain the thoughts and intelligence it had in life, with little loss of memory. It can also prepare the ritual in advance, in case death comes suddenly.
For many low-level psychics who might die unexpectedly, this is the best option. However, the ritual is still fundamentally a form of black magic, and creating a lich requires someone else's help.
At least as far as I can remember, no such forbidden knowledge has ever spread across the lands of Transia."
In the area where Smugglers' Grove met the Filthy Swamp, Lady Triss had used an evil spell to immobilize the culprit who had wreaked havoc in the woods, suspending him in midair. She saw through him at a glance.
She didn't even need to lift the hood concealing his face. The faint stench of decay and the distinct smell of herbs coming from him were enough for her to identify what he was.
She released her fingers, letting the Serenade Scepter hover beside her shoulder, then took the command baton Murphy had handed her.
It was a bone implement, a special psychic artifact made from bones. Its unremarkable appearance took the form of a cross-shaped baton, and it was impossible to tell from its looks alone which school of craftsmanship had made it.
Fortunately—or unfortunately—Lady Triss had traveled across the continent during her long years as the Scarlet Witch.
She was familiar with the thing in her hand.
Under Murphy's watchful gaze, Triss chanted in a strange, hoarse language. The seven-part spell, combined with the transformation of dark psychic energy, became an even colder and more ominous death energy that flowed into the artifact, easily unlocking the "usage restrictions" within