Capítulo 186: Chapter 186: The Evil God Extends Its Tentacles
In the prime material world, on the continent of Noa, lies the Bone Wasteland.
A greyish-white mist twines and drifts through the air, beneath layers of thick grey leaden clouds.
It is noon in Noa, and the fierce sun hangs high in the sky, unleashing endless light and warmth, casting its rays toward the ground below. Yet, this silent and grey wasteland remains untouched by any sunlight.
The fierce winds high above have no effect on the thick clouds that block the sun.
These are not ordinary clouds.
They are the condensation of various negative emotions released by countless dying beings, a terrible amalgamation of death and dark aura.
If any fast-flying but slow-reacting ordinary birds accidentally dive into these grey clouds, they instantly fall out as skeletal birds or rotting birds, becoming part of the Bone Wasteland.
Legendary beings, like the Pontiff of Light, have exhausted their energy trying to dissipate these dense negative auras.
On that day, the grey clouds thinned significantly, but they quickly returned to their original state.
The Pontiff's divine light spells were insufficient to erase the hatred of the deceased.
Below the grey clouds.
Countless undead wander here.
Skeleton warriors, lich mages, undead knights, wraiths, specters, necromancers...
This is a paradise for the undead, a heaven for the deceased.
Once formed, the Bone Wasteland became a greyish-white scar on the land, slowly and malevolently spreading outwards. The undead, with their hatred for the living from before their death, seek to destroy all that is beautiful, turning this place into a world of silence.
Around the Bone Wasteland, many human duchies and the Church of Light have built defensive fortifications.
The continuous walls serve one purpose: to prevent sudden attacks from the undead.
Fortunately, the Bone Wasteland has yet to see an undead lord rise to power, and these defenses have only faced sporadic attacks since their construction.
But even so, no one underestimates the danger of the Bone Wasteland.
Undead and the living cannot coexist peacefully.
Humans who step into the Bone Wasteland often die in the grey, gloomy air, later transformed by the death aura into part of the undead.
Yet, this forbidden zone still sees the figures of brave human paladins.
The death aura is too dense and constantly seeks to expand.
If left unchecked, the Bone Wasteland will become uncontrollable, devouring life at a rapid pace.
The power of the blood sacrifice ritual, enough to deify, has merged with this barren land following Harlis's death.
To contain this process and keep the concentration of death aura within an acceptable range, the Church of Light continuously dispatches paladins and priests to slay higher-level undead within the realm.
Along with some human soldiers, they clear out the mindless skeletons.
Though unable to eradicate the Bone Wasteland completely, this has managed to control its spread and even slightly reduce its size.
If this process continues without interruption, in many years, this desolate Bone Wasteland might once again become the fertile and scenic Baki Plains, returning to serve as the granary for human duchies.
But that's if nothing unexpected happens.
And now, an unexpected event is about to unfold.
A small squad of paladins, riding tall warhorses and accompanied by a priest in a white robe, charges through the grim, pale skeletons towards the depths of the Bone Wasteland.
They have just returned from the far northern ice fields.
After investigating there and finding no trace of the evil god's sculpture, they left the barren and harsh north.
Now, with the major nations weakened by the alliance army's destruction and the southern lands still bearing the scars of war, famine, plague, bandits, monsters, and evil dragons cause endless troubles.
The Church of Light, not involved in the war, has not hesitated to help the human nations recover, but there are never enough hands.
Searching for the evil god's sculpture, containing the Bone Wasteland, stabilizing the post-war situation... The Church of Light has been very busy.
The temple is empty, with knights and priests deployed to disaster areas.
The team that just returned from the northern ice fields, without much rest, received a new mission to eradicate the undead.
As brave and enthusiastic paladins, they had no complaints and immediately headed to the Bone Wasteland to battle the endless undead.
But as the backbone of the force, every paladin deployment is not taken lightly.
Intelligence indicated that recently, in the depths of the Bone Wasteland, some previously aimless wandering undead began to converge towards a central location.
The Church of Light, familiar with dealings with evil beings, knows what this means.
A high-level undead has been born.
The paladins stationed in the Bone Wasteland's primary mission is to purify and eliminate these newly born high-level undead.
Without the presence and command of high-level undead, the terrifying sea of undead won't form.
As followers of the God of Light, both the paladins' holy spells and the priests' divine light spells are extremely effective against undead beings.
This small but elite team is capable of nipping newly born high-level undead in the bud.
Amid the dull, unending growls and bestial roars, countless undead surround the area.
A massive skeletal lion sits at the center of these undead, its eye sockets burning with soulfire, with other undead seemingly paying it homage, standing orderly and silently beside it.
But upon closer inspection, the skeletal lion is merely an illusion.
On its huge skull, the size of a hut, wisps of wind reveal a translucent, ghostly figure.
A slender female specter.
The female specter dangles her transparent legs, her silhouette against the dark sky appearing somewhat lonely.
If any survivors from the Golden Alliance army were here, they would be shocked to find that the face of this female specter is identical to that of the ninth-ring grand mage who perished under Harlis's surprise attack.
Thanks to future Garon's reversal of time, the souls devoured by Harlis were released.
Aisaya's soul didn't enter the River Styx but lingered in the Bone Wasteland, undergoing a transformation under the corruption of the death aura, giving birth to a new life.
"Aisaya, the name I had in life."
The female specter looks up at the sky, her vision filled with endless grey clouds, her ears catching the undead's restless growls.
A few months ago, she appeared in the Bone Wasteland.
Ignorant and hating all living beings.
Then, as time passed, fragmented memories began to flash back in her soul, quickly becoming complete.
Scenes from her birth, growth, and eventual death, the complete memories of her life, all appeared before the female specter's eyes.
The memory finally focuses on a skeletal lich.
With these precious memories from a ninth-ring illusion mage, the female specter gained the light of wisdom and inherited some of the original body's powerful illusion abilities.
But she is not Aisaya.
To be precise, she is a new life born from Aisaya's unwillingness and hatred.
She hates the Golden Alliance army, hates Harlis, hates the Demor Kingdom... hates all living beings.
The female specter doesn't consider herself Aisaya; those memories feel more like watching a movie from an outsider's perspective.
She gave herself a new name.
Eirena.
The Specter Queen of the Bone Wasteland, Eirena.
The nature of undead beings harbors hatred for the living and a desire to destroy the beautiful world.
Eirena is no exception.
She is now consolidating the Bone Wasteland, eyeing the vibrant and beautiful world of the living afar, her mind swirling with cruel thoughts.
Among the other high-level undead of the Bone Wasteland, none can stand against Eirena.
With just a glance, a gesture, newly born souls fall into the Specter Queen's illusions, willingly serving Eirena as their ruler, from the heart.
"Soon, the undead will break free from this place, and a tide of undead will spread in all directions."
Eirena murmurs softly.
Suddenly, her gaze pauses, looking ahead.
In the white light, a power she detests is approaching.
The surrounding undead also look in that direction, their growls of hatred and disgust filling the air.
Under Eirena's will, the massive skeletal lion slowly rises.
The skeletal lion's original form was a celestial lion summoned by an eighth-ring curse mage, which became an undead skeletal lion after its demise. The most majestic skeletal lion king is Eirena's mount.
Boom, boom, boom. The skeletal lion king strides forward.
Each leap covers hundreds of meters, its body wrapped in death aura, moving at incredible speed.
In an instant, Eirena, riding the skeletal lion king, arrives at the source of the white light.
A group of burly paladins tightens their defense against attacks from all directions, with a priest in the middle constantly applying healing spells, tending to the paladins' wounds.
They didn't expect the gathered undead to be not only numerous but also formidable.
Even the most common skeleton warriors are strong and agile, far from the brittle skeletons they've encountered before.
These skeleton warriors were powerful warriors in life, not mere ordinary soldiers.
The Church's team is in a difficult situation.
"Nice material, thrown into the Shadow Pool, my higher-level undead will increase."
Eirena smiles with delight.
Using the bodies of paladins, high-level death knights can be transformed, and priests can become dark necromancers, adding strength to her forces.
The reason undead are feared is precisely this.
They can turn the deceased living into their own.
Dead skeletons, nourished by negative aura, still have a good chance of rising again.
If a prolonged, unending war of undead ensues, unable to eradicate the undead army quickly, they will grow stronger over time, eventually engulfing the world of the living.
As the Church's team retreats, resisting the undead attack, they see the massive skeletal lion.
The female specter sitting atop the skeletal lion's skull also enters their sight.
In that moment, even the resolute faces of the knights deeply furrow.
"Retreat immediately, no matter what, we must spread the word about this place."
A paladin speaks solemnly.
"That won't do, oh. I've taken a liking to you, how could I let you leave?"
"Be good and become my pets."
Eirena, burying deep hatred in her heart, yet her face beams with a bright, joyful smile.
Her translucent ghostly fingers target the prey.
"Stop resisting, and immerse yourself in a beautiful world."
Silent ripples emanate from Eirena's fingers, hitting the surrounded individuals in the next second.
All who are hit stiffen.
Their determined eyes become vacant after a brief struggle, motionless, as if losing control, frozen in place.
Hiss, hiss, hiss. Burly skeletons thrust their blades into flesh, bringing up clouds of blood.
Warm blood falls to the ground, blooming into bright flowers of blood, clashing with the desolate greyness of the Bone Wasteland.
"Drag these fellows into the Shadow Pool."
Eirena casually orders.
Nearby, somewhat intelligent undead knights bow and respond, "As you wish."
The paladins haven't died yet, regaining consciousness amidst the pain, praying softly while barely holding on against the surging attacks.
In such a state, the paladins are no match for the undead knights.
However, as a few undead knights approach, something unexpected happens.
Streams of black mist burst from the wounds of the paladins and priests, quickly coalescing into black tentacles, emerging from the wounds like living beings.
The black tentacles are covered in densely packed, overlapping eyeballs, chilling to the bone.
This sight momentarily halts the undead, and Eirena looks puzzled.
Likewise, this sudden occurrence catches the followers of the God of Light off guard.
"What is this?"
They look horrified.
The black tentacles growing from their bodies carry an evil and ominous aura, utterly chaotic.
"Interesting."
Eirena snaps back to attention, watching the paladins with renewed interest, signaling for the undead to pause their attack.
"Light's paladins, harboring dark beings within?"
"It seems even the Church of Light has fallen. How interesting."
The paladins clench their teeth, loudly reciting the doctrines of the God of Light, their bodies flickering with unstable white light.
Then, the black mist surges, quickly devouring the light and growing stronger.
Their once honest faces begin to darken.
The whites of their eyes quickly cover in black, with blood-red veins crawling over, looking ferocious and terrifying.
Soon, the paladins, once emanating an aura of light, cease to exist.
The feeling that disgusted Eirena, that made the surrounding undead agitated, disappears.
The black mist, like a living entity, rolls in place, obscuring the view of the group of paladins in the spreading fog, making it difficult to see clearly. Struggles and despairing breaths resonate within the mist, accompanied by the teeth-gritting sounds of bones crushing and flesh writhing.
Eirena's previously playful gaze becomes serious.
Even she, amidst the expanding and contracting, boiling-like black mist, feels an extraordinary power, fascinating, desirable, and addicting.
"What is this?"
Eirena murmurs softly, fixated on the black mist.
Moments later, influenced by a gust of cold wind, the black mist stops its restless tumbling and begins to contract.
When the last wisp of black mist disappears into the dark sky, the object inside reveals its true form.
It is a pitch-black sculpture.
Resembling the sun, but its tentacles serve as its burning flames, with countless eyeballs covering the sun's surface. From any direction, those innumerable eyes seem to make eye contact.
Flesh, bones, and the knights' armor together form this terrifying sculpture.
Eirena stares at the black sun sculpture, her gaze deepening.
In her eyes, the entire world disappears at this moment, leaving only the black sun sculpture.
The sculpture's image in her eyes becomes infinitely grand, radiating supreme power. Its appearance is ferocious and terrifying, yet it carries a weird, bizarrely evil beauty, making Eirena unable to feel repulsion.
All the eyes are watching her, each reflecting Eirena's form, seeing countless selves.
At the same time, deep murmurs resonate in Eirena's ears.
"He is born from the black mist, the creator of the black mist."
"He brings darkness, He brings light."
"He writes life, He rewrites death."
"."
"He is the creator of all, the Supreme Sun."
The murmuring isn't in any language Eirena knows, but the moment she hears it, she understands its meaning.
"The Supreme Sun."
Eirena murmurs softly, repeating the deep chants she heard.
Under the gaze of many undead, Eirena steps down from the skeletal lion's skull, walking towards the black sun sculpture with her clear, translucent feet, step by step.
The Specter Queen gently touches the black sun sculpture.
Her fingers move, gliding over each eyeball, her actions as tender as a lover's caress.
Meanwhile, under the increasingly dark sky, wisps of black mist emerge, rushing towards Eirena as if finding their ultimate destination, eagerly merging into her body, filling her translucent specter form, intertwining into flesh and bones.
Before long, a woman with a complete fleshly body, naked and flawless, appears in the realm of the undead, her body spotless, contrasting sharply with her surroundings.
Her appearance is no different from that of the ninth-ring illusion mage in life.
Amber eyes, a fair face, a tall figure, a mysterious aura...
The only difference is in Eirena's gaze.
Deep within Eirena's eyes lies twisted hatred and resentment, starkly different from the respected Aisaya.
"The original Supreme Sun, your follower, will spread the true sun's radiance across Noa, dispelling darkness, bringing light."
Black mist intertwines, forming a light gauze black robe, covering her shapely body.
Eirena looks up again at the sky.
Her hateful gaze seems to pierce through the thick clouds, seeing the silent, burning golden sun in the sky.
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