Capítulo 261: Chapter 261: The Hostility of the Gods
Near the Dragonjaw Mountains, close to the Imaskar Empire, Garon had no intention of making this area his territory.
In the Dragonjaw Mountains, he simply chose a reasonably sized mountain in the depths for his temporary abode. Before this, the spot Garon chose was already occupied.
A troll tribe called the Blood Howl resided here.
Naturally, facing Garon's arrival, the Blood Howl troll tribe submitted to the legendary dragon's wings.
The Blood Howl trolls were the only vassal tribe Garon had subjugated in the Dragonjaw Mountains.
With the backing of a powerful dragon, the trolls wished to conquer more territory for Garon.
However, under Garon's command, they refrained from doing so.
Garon subjugated these vassals solely for convenience in his life, not to expand his influence. Having some vassals was quite convenient. As he was scheming against the Imaskar Empire and didn't want to alarm the Empire prematurely, Garon refrained from making any conspicuous moves.
Time silently passed.
Days went by peacefully.
Duke Sorin, Garon's extended hand, regularly contacted him, reporting the internal news of the Empire.
Taking advantage of his handsome appearance and noble status, Sorin built relationships with numerous noble ladies, obtaining many secrets of the Imaskar Empire.
However, these were of little use to Garon.
His target was the Imaskar secrets, and the Empire's downfall would be the best opportunity to act.
Before that, Garon tasked Sorin with trading with the mechanized lords who held the Imaskar secrets, subtly probing for information and learning about their personal habits. These mechanized lords holding the Empire's secrets were all powerful individuals, top-tier legendary mechanists. It wouldn't be easy to directly snatch the secrets from them.
Garon spent most of his time in slumber.
During his spare moments, he engaged in various but not tedious researches.
Arcane magic, the Weave, mechanized inheritance, the power of time... In this timeline, Garon's growth was slow, but this did not prevent him from learning over time and gradually mastering his abilities. Overall, his strength was still steadily increasing, albeit at a slower pace.
Deep research brought harvests.
Garon primarily relied on his talent for spell learning, making his knowledge not as broad compared to ordinary legendary spellcasters. However, as time passed, his knowledge base rapidly accumulated, gradually catching up with other legendary casters.
In the blink of an eye, a year quietly passed.
"The energy of the time-space gate is still far from complete."
Garon lifted his left wrist, where the nine gems that composed the Imaskar magic ring adorned his silver dragon scales, glowing faintly.
"At this rate, filling the time-space gate will take at least thirty years."
Garon shook his head slightly.
He hadn't even lived for thirty years in the main timeline.
"But, if I spend a hundred years in a parallel timeline, and only one year passes in the main timeline, and my body's growth is only equivalent to one year in the main timeline..."
The silver dragon pondered, his tail fidgeting restlessly.
"Then the question is, am I a hundred years old, or one?"
It seemed more appropriate to count by the main timeline.
Otherwise, at a hundred years old, Garon would be considered a juvenile dragon, which was too strange.
Garon didn't delve too deep into this matter.
After all, he was the one to determine his age.
Next, Garon closed his eyes, picturing the structure of the Weave and arcane runes, continuing his study of arcane magic.
However, this session of study was soon interrupted.
A communication crystal vibrated incessantly, emanating the magical fluctuations of Iolum.
Garon took out the communication crystal and infused it with magic.
The moment his magic entered, the crystal's vibrations ceased, blooming with multicolored lights, which quickly intertwined into a vivid image. In it, Iolum appeared, evidently in his mage tower, with rows of tall bookshelves filled with thick books behind him.
"It seems you've finished the war against the orcs."
Garon observed Iolum's surroundings and commented.
This was the first time Iolum had contacted him since they parted ways.
Iolum nodded, "Three months ago, the orc army was completely defeated. There are no more orcs around Netheril."
He smiled genuinely, "After that, I finally could concentrate on my arcane research."
Arcane magic is a profound art requiring intense and deep study. Due to the orc threat, Iolum's mind had been partly preoccupied. But now, he could focus entirely on arcane research.
Within two months of focused study, he had made significant progress.
Garon nodded, "Congratulations, I look forward to the day when the floating city is realized."
Garon was aware of his shortcomings.
His creativity in spell creation was not comparable to a grand arcanist like Iolum. Garon had tried to create legendary spells himself but without success.
For Garon, associating with a grand arcanist like Iolum was a great way to acquire powerful arcane knowledge.
Meanwhile,
In the image displayed by the communication crystal, Iolum raised his palm.
A dark blue orb made of dense arcane runes appeared, casting a ghastly blue light on his face, giving him an almost evil appearance at first glance.
Garon's own arcane knowledge was not insignificant.
He recognized the dark blue orb in Iolum's hand as a completed spell model, mixing Netheril arcane runes with many familiar ones.
"What is this?"
Garon inquired.
Iolum looked at the blue orb, "This is the result of my two-month seclusion, a tenth-level spell, Eternal Life."
"Human lifespans are too short, while the path to truth is too long."
"This spell grants arcanists nearly eternal life, giving enough time to explore the essence of the world, and without any cost to oneself."
Eternal Life without cost? Garon's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the spell model in Iolum's hand.
Garon, being an immortal dragon, didn't need Eternal Life, but he knew what such a spell meant for human arcanists.
Spell research was time-consuming and labor-intensive, while human lifespans were too short in comparison.
Of course, arcanists had found ways to extend life, but these methods invariably came with great costs.
For instance, Haris, who became a lich, turned evil and became a great calamity for his own country.
But Iolum's Eternal Life could allow human arcanists to retain their pure arcane spirit while living eternally, without the negative effects of other methods. Such a spell could be a cornerstone for a civilization, allowing Netheril's grand arcanists to live as their true selves.
"You must have seen, this spell uses many necromancy runes."
"If not for your extraplanar spell knowledge, my Eternal Life might not have been completed for a long time."
"Therefore, I plan to teach Eternal Life to you first."
Listening to Iolum and observing the spell model, Garon had a premonition.
Just this development of Eternal Life could trigger a series of chain reactions, shortening the natural progress of the arcane empire by hundreds of years. And with advanced spell knowledge from Garon, Iolum's arcane level was rapidly improving, and his floating city might appear on the historical stage sooner.
Due to Garon's intervention, the future Netheril arcane empire might make an early appearance.
"Perhaps, I can also expedite the crisis of the Imaskar Empire."
Garon thought of this, his mind becoming active.
Meanwhile, Iolum lightly tapped the orb in his hand, and its dark blue light filled the entire communication crystal screen. The inner magical runes were displayed before Garon, and Iolum began to teach.
He truly enjoyed teaching and imparting knowledge.
Garon was quite interested in Eternal Life and studied it earnestly.
Though he didn't need Eternal Life, initially thinking of learning it just because it was powerful, it's always good to know more than nine-circle spells.
However, as Iolum explained, Garon gradually understood the essence of Eternal Life.
Under the dark blue light, Iolum looked somewhat evil.
The essence of Eternal Life was definitely not benign in the eyes of many creatures.
"Is it my introduction of spell knowledge that corrupted this Eternal Life, or was it Iolum's original concept, just accelerated?"
Garon listened to Iolum's engrossed teaching, lost in thought.
He had realized.
The essence of this spell was—destruction.
Life after death.
However, it's not about bringing the spellcaster to death's door, but by instantly killing all life within a range, bringing other creatures to death, thus allowing the caster to gain limitless life extension.
Eternal Life had destructive power comparable to Withering.
It designated a range.
After the spell was cast, all living beings in the range would turn to ashes, their lifespans transferring to the casting grand arcanist. Eternal Life wouldn't grant true immortality, but with periodic casting, it could achieve a near-immortal effect.
"This Iolum seems to have been inspired by necromancy."
Garon blinked.
"Garon, what are you thinking about? Stay focused."
At this moment, Iolum suddenly looked sharply at the distracted Garon, raising his tone.
Reminded by the grand arcanist, Garon focused on Eternal Life, dispelling distracting thoughts.
Tenth-level spells were complex.
The communication crystal shone for two full weeks.
Garon had memorized all the runes and subtle structures needed for Eternal Life, and Iolum had not missed any key points. Now Garon could start researching it himself.
"With your spell knowledge, I've been inspired lately."
"I will continue my seclusion."
Iolum looked vibrant and wise, saying,
"You've already completed Eternal Life."
"What's your next research target?"
Garon inquired.
Iolum had already decided, so without hesitation, he said, "The Core of the Weave, a magical device."
The Core of the Weave?
What was that?
Garon was momentarily stunned.
"You're not continuing to research how to create a floating city?"
Iolum smiled, an academic's smile on his aged face, "Besides the Core of the Weave, this magical device will have other names, the Core of the Floating City, the Core of Netheril, the Core of Mystra."
Mystra, the name of the powerful deity of magic.
"You mean, this Core of the Weave will be key to creating a floating city?"
Iolum nodded, "I realized it's impractical to support a city in the sky with an arcanist's power alone."
"So I thought, what if we could establish a stable connection with the Weave, drawing continuous energy from its depths to support the city's levitation."
"I thought about it for a long time and felt this was the most feasible method."
Pausing, Iolum continued, "So I need to create an energy core for the floating city, relying on the Weave."
"Without this core, everything else is just empty talk."
Hearing "relying on the Weave," Garon's heart chilled.
"Are you sure you want to do this?"
"If the Weave suddenly fails, your floating city, created this way, might all crash down, bringing disastrous consequences."
Garon warned.
Iolum shook his head, "Since humanity's birth, the Weave has existed, with the goddess of magic constantly repairing its damage."
"Even if the Weave were to fail, such a vast system wouldn't collapse instantly."
"By then, arcanists will have time to react appropriately."
It made sense.
Such a vast Weave system wouldn't fail instantly.
Garon nodded slightly.
"But we're talking too far ahead. Right now, whether the Core of the Weave can be successfully created is still unknown."
"Without the core, a floating city remains an unachievable dream."
Iolum sighed.
"Don't worry, you will succeed."
Iolum asked in confusion, "How can you be so sure?"
He felt Garon was more confident than he was.
"I believe in your ability as a grand arcanist."
Garon said.
"Then, to not let down the trust of a true dragon, it seems I can only succeed."
The grand arcanist laughed.
After chatting for a while, the magical fluctuations of the communication crystal disappeared, and Iolum continued his seclusion, beginning his research on the Core of the Weave.
"Netheril's future as a magic empire is practically the work of Iolum alone."
Garon thought.
Eradicating the orcs relied on Iolum's teleportation spells, eliminating Netheril's early greatest enemy, resolving external threats. Eternal Life, crucial for grand arcanists, also came from Iolum, and the first floating city would likely be his research.
Garon raised his dragon claw.
Magic surged, and runes emerged, orbiting his claw, slowly weaving together to construct the framework of Eternal Life.
In the vast and rudimentary mountain dragon nest, Garon began studying Eternal Life.
As spring and autumn alternated and time quietly slipped away, one adventure story after another sprouted in the land of Faerûn.
Bards sang of various legends in taverns.
Simultaneously, a rumor gradually spread.
A mysterious and powerful ancient dragon lived in the Dragonjaw Mountains, conducting terrifying magical research atop the mountain. Any creature entering its territory never saw the next day's sun, even legendary creatures.
Some believed in the existence of the ancient dragon, while others scoffed.
Meanwhile,
Deep in the Dragonjaw Mountains, in a mountain covered with sturdy pines, the legendary true dragon with profound eyes mused,
"It has begun, the Imaskar Empire has decided to wage war."
Garon received a message from Sorin.
The Imaskar Empire had made its move.
They were no longer content with the territories in the East.
The Imaskar Empire wanted all of Faerûn.
The Empire dispatched dozens of troops in various directions, composed of mechanists and warriors in mechanized armor, led by legendary mechanists, leaving Imperial territory one after another.
Relying on its fierce and powerful mechanized army, the Imaskar Empire launched invasions in three directions simultaneously.
The Empire's confidence and boldness were fully displayed.
However, Garon had a strong premonition.
The destruction of the Imaskar Empire would begin with this war.
Garon trusted his instincts.
The silver dragon closed his eyes again, beginning his patient wait.
On the land of Faerûn, not just one race or nation existed.
If the Imaskar Empire wanted to dominate Faerûn, they had to face hundreds of kingdoms and city-states, along with countless rural towns and villages. But these were minor obstacles for the Empire.
With enough resources, mechanists could create endless mechanized armies.
They excelled in large-scale warfare.
Facing the Imaskar Empire's might, many smaller nations near the Empire didn't resist, even welcoming the Imperial army, voluntarily becoming vassal states.
Of course, some nations refused to submit.
Such as a small country in northeastern Faerûn.
The Kingdom of Tada.
In a world without deities,
The Imaskar Empire could sweep the continent with its strength. But Faerûn was filled with gods, with different nations following different deities. The Imaskar Empire, a magical empire that didn't revere gods, contrasted with some countries entirely devoted to their gods.
Tada was one such devoted nation.
A desert country, where harsh weather and scorching sands forged the Tada people's tenacious character.
Crossing the desert and the Clary Basin, through endless mountains and wild greenery, the Imaskar Empire would confront Netheril's arcanists.
The small Tada was the first obstacle in the desert.
Facing a small nation unwilling to submit, the Imaskar Empire's mechanized army showed no mercy, its army seemingly endless.
Under the near-blood-red sunset.
King Tada stood high in his nation, guarded by Tada warriors, gazing at the endless desert sands outside the city.
Outside, yellow was the desert's eternal theme.
But today, King Tada looked out to see cold metallic hues, his view almost entirely filled with mechanized creatures.
"Accept the glory of the Empire, and your nation will thrive under its leadership."
"I give you one last chance."
"Submit, or be destroyed!"
The mechanized army's leader issued the final ultimatum.
King Tada turned to his people, seeing fearless faces.
Then, he looked at the endless mechanized army with resolve.
He surveyed his surroundings, declaring, "The people of Tada are blessed by the Goddess of Misfortune!"
"Her devotees will never submit to the Empire's might!"
The mechanist, unaware of the Goddess of Misfortune, scoffed, "Gods? How many legions do they have?"
"The Imaskar Empire believes only in machinery and magic."
"Can your god save you from the Imperial army's tide?"
With the Empire's strength, ordinary deities incarnated in the material world would probably be no match for the mechanized army. Moreover, gods had customary rules and wouldn't intervene in material world wars.
Under the crush of the mechanized army, the secluded Tada was unsurprisingly destroyed.
However, the mechanist didn't know.
The Goddess of Misfortune was a chaotic evil deity with intermediate power, unconcerned with gains and losses.
So, the moment Tada was destroyed, angry whispers echoed in a layer of the Abyss.
"The Imaskar Empire shall pay a painful price for their arrogance!"
In other planes, gods of both good and evil factions mostly heard this whisper.
They remained silent, merely turning their gazes towards Faerûn, towards the Imaskar Empire.
Magical empires rarely fostered faith, never being the favorite of gods.
The gods were happy to see the trouble the Imaskar Empire was about to encounter.
Meanwhile,
In the lands of the Imaskar Empire, a girl with black-red antlers and a black veil silently descended.
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