Book 9, 103
Book 9, 103
Zealor
Listening to the old dragon’s explanation about the future, Richard immediately felt a different question coming to mind, “So the visions you showed me, they weren’t set in stone.”
“That is right.”
“Then why the... Why did you send them to me?!”
“Destiny.”
Richard felt rage surging within him, but he pushed things down. The vision about Sharon had ended up coming true, and Flowsand had predicted their parting as well. It was only Mountainsea’s destiny that he’d managed to change, and that had come on the precipice of his own death.
As the conversation ended, the timeforce around the altar gathered to form a crystal necklace. The will of the Eternal Dragon faded away into the void, leaving Richard confused for a moment as to where his options were. He quickly grabbed the necklace and started inspecting it, however, wondering just what a rank 2 blessing’s worth of an accessory would be.
The purpose of the necklace turned out to be very simple; it was a source of ordered fire. It allowed its wielder a connection to the realm of order even when deep inside chaos, and could form a domain of order around them on demand.
At the very bottom of the explanation was a tidbit: this necklace could only be used by those titled a Lord of Space or greater. Richard smiled helplessly at the revelation, understanding that it meant the accessory had been sent for him and him alone. He hadn’t even come across a Planewalker in all his travels, so he considered it impossible to actually find another Lord of Space.
He had a vague sense that this source of order would play a crucial role in his journey into the abyss. Storing it carefully, he returned to his island to get work done.
......
Time passed quickly as ever, and in a flash it was time for the expedition into the abyss. All of Faust stirred as it was flooded by important visitors from the Sacred Tree and Millennial Empires; this would be the first such expedition in nearly a thousand years and the second of all time.
Hordes of night elves started to gather in Faust, separating themselves into batches and entering the ancient battlefield that they would use as a staging ground for their assault. They were formed up into thousand-man regiments as they marched through Richard’s island, entering the portal to the special zone.
Richard currently wasn’t inside the city, instead floating outside its arches as he stared at the dragon skull that had decorated it for hundreds of years.
A strange voice suddenly rang out in his mind, “We meet again, boy.”
Even though he’d expected this, he was still a little shaken by Daramore’s voice, “So you aren’t dead after all.”
The abyssal dragon laughed heartily in reply, “Of course not! Charles and his parlour tricks can’t kill me!”
Richard’s eyes started glowing, revealing a number of symbols all over the arch. He smiled, “I see. So he sealed you here forever, and added a pain formation on top. Must be agonizing.”
“Are you mocking a noble Abyssal Dragon?!” Daramore roared into Richard’s mind, but only a slight adjustment left it sounding pleasant in his ears.
“Just spit it out, I have other things to take care of. If you want to show your nobility or whatever, you can keep hanging there. I’ll come chat with you when I’m back.” Richard turned around to leave.
“Wait!” Daramore called out, finally starting to speak quickly, “Are you headed for Arbidis?”
“Of course,” Richard wasn’t surprised. All of Norland knew at this point.
“I sense your power to rescue souls. I have been imprisoned here for hundreds of years, and I wish to return home to my kin. Take me with you, I will pay you back for your generosity.”
Richard didn’t ask what the dragon meant, instead sneering in response, “Take you to the abyss? So I can resurrect a greater abyssal lord myself?”
The dragon sighed, “My layer will have a new overlord now. Even if I return, I will need at least a millennium to regain my former strength. Take me, and I will grant you the laws of my layer. They will be of great help in your journey into Arbidis.”
“Huh, as expected,” Richard nodded. He then looked at the dragon and sent his soul force into the dragon’s skull. As it gathered Daramore’s soul and returned to his, the dragon suddenly yelped in surprise.
“YOU’RE A—”
“Soul hunter, yes,” he melted the dragon’s defences like snow, engulfing its existence with three tetrahedrons that vanished after a moment. The power of Issa formed a warm, comfortable whirlpool in an environment that felt colder and more terrifying than death, so much so that even the once-epic Daramore cast its soul straight in. The image of the dragon slowly appeared on Richard’s tetrahedrons, so far up that it was only surpassed by the three faces of Richard’s legendary ability.
Richard’s figure glimmered and vanished quietly, appearing on the Archeron island as the last of the night elves walked through the portal. Those who had been participating in the reward point battlefield were all out of their residences, astonished looks on their faces as they stared in awe at the Archeron army.
Richard’s force was massive in terms of power, containing a total of fifty thousand night elves. Apart from the main force were hundreds of wasps that would serve as the transporters, now influenced by reaper design to become strange amalgamations of flesh and metal. Even the wasps were covered in red veins that indicated their fire resistance.
Almost as astonishing was the lineup of powerhouses standing by the side. Richard knew that he would have to take on multiple demon lords during this expedition, so he had brought along what could only be considered the most powerful lineup in all of Norland right now. Nasia, Tiramisu, Waterflower, Zangru, Fiora, Ironshield... even Greyhawk had made sure to join the party, reasoning that he possibly couldn’t miss such a precious opportunity to explore. In fact, Richard was particularly ecstatic with the level 25 mage’s arrival; he was powerful, certainly, but his value was expressed much more clearly in his knowledge of various environments.
Outside of the dozen-plus legends, Richard also had nearly a hundred saints and sky saints following him, almost every single one in the Archeron ranks. For the sake of this trip to Arbidis, the entirety of his forces had been mobilised.
Greyhawk walked over as Richard headed to the portal, asking with a smile, “Aren’t you afraid of someone attacking your base?”
He smiled himself in response, “They just need to fend opponents off for a few months at worst. Apeiron has agreed to watch over them for now.”
“Her Majesty is on our side? Seems like those rumours about your complicated relationship were true. Anyway, why aren’t we setting off?”
“There’s another batch of troops,” Richard pointed at a newly formed portal that started to flash brightly, enormous bugs crawling out from within. Each ten-metre-long creature somewhat resembled the broodmother, but they were rather clumsy as they ambled through the passage. Their armour seemed to be patchwork made of different organic and metallic structures.
“Hmm... there’s supposed to be one more... Huh?” his head suddenly shot to the left, focusing on a tiny portal that had been formed for the sake of a single night elf. The drone’s beautiful looks surpassed the standard of the rest of its kind, and its aura was strange, but there was a sense of antiquity about it that only primal bloodlines possesed.
The elf looked completely average, with a standard issue longbow and spear, but Richard could tell that it was anything but. His eyes went wide as he scanned it with Insight, realising that it was a staggering level 25! He could also tell that its bloodline was truly powerful, unlike anything he had ever seen before. The throbbing vitality of the Golden World Tree had somehow fused with a faint thunderous energy.
Thunderous... “NYRIS!” he screamed as he found the reason for his familiarity.
The strange, androgynous night elf seemed to show a pained expression for a brief moment, but it quickly returned to a blank face and went down on one knee, “My name is Zealor, Master.”