Iron Dragon's Advancement Journey

Page 174

　The elder tree spirit seemed to be carefully choosing his words: "Do you know what a ghost dragon is?"

　Agatha's expression instantly changed. As a paladin specially trained for cultivation, her understanding of undead creatures was exceptionally profound: "You mean, Vorazega has already..."

　"During its long slumber, it unknowingly completed its transformation." Arandir nodded heavily. "Its soul remains pure, but its form has changed. It is now a ghost dragon—a ghost dragon unaware that it has already crossed the threshold of twilight and reached the other side."

36. The reinforcements brought by the monkey

　Hellgate Fortress.

　Celine landed gracefully on the largest platform of the newly built floating fortress, her long hair swaying slightly in the surging magic. She looked around the newly completed steel fortress, her slender fingers lightly tracing the rune-covered metal surface, feeling the magical pulse flowing within.

　"Interesting." The sun elf's voice was as clear as morning dew, her attention completely drawn to the interwoven magical circuits. "The arrangement of these nodes, layer upon layer, forms multiple nested functional areas. Defense, attack, life support, teleportation—each system participates in the overall magical cycle, yet each has independent support, backup, and overlap, allowing them to transform into one another and provide specific enhancements when needed."

　She paced slowly around the platform, her fingers tracing the flow of magic in the air: "The Elven's magic chains are powerful, but they often focus on a single purpose. Mystronno's are for defense, Averisca's are for concealment. And here..."

　Casalos, still in human form, stood to one side with his hands behind his back: "Seven hundred and twenty primary nodes, four hundred and five thousand three hundred secondary nodes, and millions of backup pathways. Even in the most extreme case where more than two-thirds of the nodes are down, the entire system can still maintain basic operation."

　"Dynamic balance." Silence nodded. "When a region is under pressure, adjacent nodes automatically share the load. This design concept never appeared even during Netheril's peak."

　Elminster couldn't help but interject, "But with such complexity, wouldn't maintaining it be......"

　"Quite the opposite," Casalos interrupted him. "Precisely because there's sufficient redundancy, the failure of an individual node won't affect the whole system. The flow of magic to that node will automatically stop and issue an alarm, and repairs can be done gradually; there's absolutely no need to worry about the system crashing."

　Celine had already begun her work. She raised her right hand, and pure silver light gathered at her fingertips. The light was not dazzling, but it contained the power of a goddess herself.

　"Release the temporary lock," Casalos commanded.

　Edgeworth transmitted commands through the psionic network, and the temporary systems of the entire fortress began to shut down in an orderly fashion. As the last node extinguished, the primal magic of the Miser Core began to diffuse outward.

　Celine clasped her hands together, then slowly separated them. A three-dimensional array composed of pure magic took shape between her palms, then expanded to the size of the entire fortress. The moment the dissipated primal magic touched the edge of the array, it was immediately captured and rewoven.

　"Very good, the basic framework remains stable," she said as she worked. "Now let's begin building the first functional area—the protection system."

　The three protective layers unfolded one by one according to the predetermined design. Physical protection dispersed kinetic attacks throughout the spherical structure; magical filtering identified and neutralized harmful effects; and mental defense protected the fortress's essence from being corrupted by the abyss at its deepest layer.

　"The attack system requires special handling." Silence's gestures became more complex. "Using conventional elemental magic in the Abyss will significantly reduce its effectiveness. So..."

　She drew an inverted rune in the air: "Reverse absorption. Transform the power of the abyss into a weapon, thus conserving mana and increasing its power."

　Hundreds of reversal magic circles were generated on the surface of the fortress, hidden beneath the armor. They were linked to the magic circuit of the Maze Lock through specific one-way interfaces, so as to feed the converted pure energy back into the Maze Lock.

　"Life support system," Celine continued her work, "This part is the most intricate. It not only purifies the air and water, but also simulates the environment of the prime material world."

　She summoned more silver fire, which wove into a complex network of runes in the air. Each rune represented a specific law of nature—gravity, temperature, humidity, and light.

　"The teleportation network is crucial," Casalos cautioned. "We must ensure that communication with the Prime Material Plane remains uninterrupted."

　Silinshi nodded: "There are four main teleportation channels, connecting Waterdeep, Baldur's Gate, Silvermoon City, and Astral City. Even if three of them are cut off, the remaining one is sufficient to maintain basic supply transport."

　The entire process lasted nearly two hours. When the last rune was in place, Sirinshi took a deep breath: "Self-sustaining system, activate."

　Her voice became ethereal and solemn at that moment: "Sourced from the Miser Core, fed on the power of the Abyss. Order devours chaos, light dispels darkness. Though this place lies in the Abyss, it is an extension of Faerûn."

　The entire maze suddenly activated.

　Visible ripples spread out from the center of the fortress, instantly clearing the air. The pervasive smell of sulfur vanished, replaced by a freshness reminiscent of spring meadows. The gravitational field inside the fortress stabilized, and the light became soft and abundant.

　"Done." Silinxi clapped her hands, as if she had just completed a routine task.

　The spellcasters present fell silent. They had just witnessed the impossible become possible, the construction of an order fortress capable of operating independently within the abyss.

　"I didn't expect that your spellcasting ability, which isn't very good," Silinxi said, looking at Casalos, "yet your mastery of arcane knowledge has already surpassed that little rascal by so much."

　Elminster's white beard twitched, but he wisely chose to remain silent.

　Casalos, now in human form, shrugged: "The Goddess of Magic is my disciple."

　"Haha..." Celine was amused. "The second-generation goddess of magic was actually a shepherdess who knew absolutely nothing about magic."

　"I thought you wouldn't make fun of your own god."

　"Facts are facts." Celine's expression returned to calm. "By the way, what do you intend to call this fortress?"

　"Itno," Casalos answered without hesitation, "meaning 'eternal watch'."

　"This name doesn't sound like something your Iron Dragons would come up with," Silinxi nodded in agreement, then her expression turned serious. "The frontline fortress is complete; the next step is to send it into the abyss. You should know how difficult this process will be."

　Casalos walked to the edge of the command tower, looking down at the bustling crowd below: "The portal to Hellgate Fortress is only three hundred meters in diameter, while Itno..."

　"The diameter exceeds three kilometers," Elasdra interjected. "To pass such a massive building through that narrow passage is simply..."

　"It's like passing a steel ball through a small hole in a rubber sheet," Casalos aptly described it. "The force required exceeds the limits of any mortal spellcaster."

　Celine walked to his side: "So you need the help of the Goddess of Magic. I can't help you with what comes next. Whether you succeed or not depends on your 'disciple,' the new Goddess of Magic, whether she's willing to let the magic net plunge into the bottomless abyss!"

　Her tone became serious: "In this regard, I believe that since you've chosen to do this, you must be confident. But I hope that you, and He, truly know what you're doing, and what the consequences will be!"

　These words were clearly not just directed at Casalos. Everyone present could sense that Serenhi was speaking to the goddess of magic herself.

　"Are you really ready?" she pressed.

　Casalos straightened up, his voice somewhat indifferent: "Of course I know what I'm doing."

　He turned to face the crowd: "From now on, all non-essential personnel shall evacuate. Combat personnel shall move to their designated positions."

　As the command was given, Iteno began to move slowly. Propelled by the force field, the massive spherical fortress approached the portal to Hellgate Fortress. The moment the fortress touched the edge of the portal, the entire magic network of Faerûn trembled.

　The once evenly distributed magic network began to shift in an orderly fashion. Under its control, the magic of all things in Faerûn began to twist and converge. At first, it was just a slight ripple, like ripples on a calm lake. But soon, the ripples turned into waves, and the waves converged into a tsunami, rotating around Hellgate Castle as its center, slowly forming a huge magical vortex with a diameter of over ten million miles.

　The sky began to change.

　The magical aura became visible as it converged. Silver specks of light, like stars, twinkled amidst blue "flames" surging from the void.

　"It's starting," Celine said softly.

　In Waterdeep, a thousand miles away, Pilgalen, who had once again been appointed acting lord, suddenly looked up. Through the window, he saw the northern sky dyed blue by the light.

　"Gods above..." he murmured to himself.

　Not just Deep Water City.

　The elves of Evergrande emerged from the tower, gazing up at the burning eastern sky; the followers of the Ice Goddess of Sosar paused their prayers, turning their attention to the southwest; the archmages of Harua put down their experiments and gathered at the observatory; the red-robed mages of Ser held an emergency meeting to discuss whether this unprecedented magical phenomenon was another sign of destruction.

　The entire city of Faerun was in shock.

　On the other side of the portal, the abyss also responded.

　The power of the abyss began to converge, forming countless chaotic vortexes, whipping up blackish-purple energy that rushed towards the portal and crashed into the defensive surface set up by Inot.

　"Enemy attack!" The lookout's alarm sounded.

　On one side of the abyss, countless demon legions emerged from some unknown corner, gathering into an army no less massive than the one on the battlefield of Aphonas, and frantically charged at Iteno, who was blocking the entrance, attempting to prevent this creation of order from entering their territory.

　But this time, the situation is completely different.

　The combined forces of Deepwater Territory and the Silvermoon Federation had secured a strong position. Iteno's defense system was fully activated, and the magical barrier formed by the Locked Chains kept the demons at bay. Those demons who attempted to break through soon discovered that they were not facing simple fortifications, but a war fortress even more formidable and resilient than Aphonas's bronze fortress.

　"Fire!"

　Tens of thousands of cannons roared, and magic circles flickered, making the breath of dragons and half-dragons, the spells cast by spellcasters, and the arrows and javelins thrown by warriors pale in comparison.

　The conflict between the magical network and the power of the abyss intensifies. The two ends of the portal are divided by two colors: blue magical flames in the prime material world and dark purple chaotic energy within the abyss. They converge, collide, annihilate, and regenerate at the location of Inot.

　Iteno was like an iron ball caught between two wrestling giant hands, stuck in the expanding portal, unable to move forward or backward.

　The magical vortex grew increasingly violent, the blue flames stretching into clouds, and sporadic sparks began to fall. These seemingly beautiful points of light were in fact deadly—any matter that came into contact with them was instantly broken down into its most primordial elemental form. Living things that touched them died instantly, without exception.

　"No, if this continues, the magic network will collapse, and that will cause a devastating catastrophe to the continent of Faerûn." Selene hesitated, just as she had done with Misdrano...

　"Don't worry, they, and we will all get help." Casalos remained unmoved, even wanting to laugh: the operation of the pseudo-Laplace's demon had diminished many of the surprises in its dragon life.

　"Them? Us?"

　No one needed to answer Elasdra's question; a melody surpassing all mortal tunes resounded. It wasn't a sound coming from a specific direction, but rather resonated directly within the soul of every living being of the Prime Material Realm. Solemn, sacred, and filled with ineffable majesty.

　"That is..." Ilminster's eyes widened.

　"The Word of Creation..." Silinxi murmured, "a remnant of a lost language, considered the precursor to Celestial Language. Very few Celestial beings remember these words, and very few mortals know even one or two of them. Their power is so great that no mortal mind can comprehend more than three or four words, and no evil being can utter or endure their voice."

　The sky began to tear apart, and the boundary between planes was shattered. Golden light poured down from the rift, like dawn dispelling the night. Within that light, countless figures began to appear—Astral Apostles, graceful and beautiful humanoid beings with a pair of pure white wings, descending onto the battlefield in perfect unison.

　Commanding the apostles were divine servants, bald, muscular men with emerald green skin and white wings. Unlike the elegant star messengers, these beings exuded a primal and powerful strength. They were the most loyal warriors of the gods, the commanders of the celestial legions.

　In addition, the Holy Sword Envoy, with red wings that shimmered with crimson light and exuding a rugged beauty, possessed sculpted muscles and wings that shone with a bronze luster. His long, pointed ears, which indicated his elven identity, were as sharp as swords. The Radiant Cloud Angel, with his shiny bronze skin and wild black hair, also appeared at the same time.

　"The Celestial Legion..." Kelben gripped his staff tightly. "The gods of the heavens have actually sent reinforcements for this." (The rest of the text appears to be gibberish and unrelated to the previous sentences.)

　But that's not all. The first wave of arrivals was merely celestial support for mortals. The power of the gods is beyond the comprehension of mortals. Only the visible phenomenon of calming the blue flames overflowing from the demonic net indicates the involvement of the gods.

　As if at sunrise, golden rays dispelled the blue fiery clouds, restoring tranquility to the sky; yet this golden light could not overshadow the cool moonlight, the weight of the earth, and the chill carried by the north wind…

　"Why?" Ilminster finally couldn't help but ask. "I can understand the Lord of Dawn, and the Goddess of the Moon, and Mother Earth cares about her followers... but why is the Goddess of Winter helping us?"

　"Because," Casalos's voice was calm and deep, "this has always been a war that has never ended."

37. Coordination

　Golden light cascaded down like a waterfall, and the sheer power of the celestial legion silenced the entire battlefield. Even the demons that had been frantically charging towards Itno temporarily halted their attack in the face of this power emanating from the source of ultimate goodness.

　Casalos remained standing on the observation platform of the ground command tower, his gaze sweeping over the descending celestial beings. His expression was calm as still water, but different thoughts were churning within him.

　The Astral Apostles hovered in perfect formation in mid-air, their pristine white wings fluttering slightly, their radiant longswords pointing towards the Abyss portal. These warriors from the plane of order were the most loyal vanguard in the fight against Chaos.

　"This is..." Elasdra's voice was filled with undisguised shock, his silver eyes reflecting the radiant figures constantly emerging in the sky, "I have never seen anything like it."

　Elminster's fingers trembled slightly as he stroked his white beard. "Even I have only heard similar descriptions in the oldest prophecies. The Celestial Legion... they have truly descended."

　"Those crimson-winged warriors look exceptionally powerful." Storm Silverhand's hand rested on his sword hilt, warily observing the holy sword envoys. Even facing reinforcements, this harp master remained vigilant. (The last sentence appears to be unrelated and possibly a fragment from another text.)

　Casalos spoke slowly, his tone calm yet profound: "The Holy Sword Envoys of the Sub-Sky Clan, the executors of the Heavenly Laws. They are the executors of the Heavenly Laws recognized by the heroes of Heavenly Mountain. Their appearance signifies that this is not merely the action of a particular pantheon, but a formal war approved by Heavenly Mountain."

　He paused, then continued, "Mount Paradise, or what you Faerûn generally call 'Heaven,' is actually the source of goodness in the multiverse. It is currently known to be divided into seven levels, from the lowest, the silver heaven of Lunya, to the most mysterious and radiant heaven of Chronias. Each level represents a different level of goodness and perfection."

　Kelben Black Staff nodded thoughtfully: "The Seven Heavens... even the most secret texts are vague about this."

　"The first level, Lunya, the Silver Heaven," Casalos continued. "A dark, wine-like silver sea surrounds the entire level; it is the gateway from other planes to Mount Paradise. The second level, Mercuria, the Golden Heaven, where the air is thin yet filled with hope, and the tombs of countless heroes rest in peace."

　His voice held a thoughtful tone: "The third layer, Vya, is the Pearl Heaven, its ancient, smooth slopes occasionally covered in snow. The fourth layer, Solania, is the Crystal Heaven, where monasteries and holy sites are destinations for pilgrims seeking truth. The fifth layer, Moxin, is the Platinum Heaven, a gathering place for paladins and celestial beings. The sixth layer, Yova, is the Radiant Heaven, its slopes inlaid with enormous gems, where the Avatars revel in their past glory."

　"What about the seventh floor?" Lyra Silverhand couldn't help but ask.

　Casalos's expression turned meaningful: "Cronas, a radiant paradise. No one knows its true face, for those who enter never return. Some say they merge with the ultimate good, others say the wicked are utterly eradicated."

　“The Sub-Sky Clan are the inhabitants of the heavens. As for those angels,” he gestured with his chin towards the green-skinned divine servants, “these fellows come from different divine kingdoms. They are the most loyal servants of the gods, specifically responsible for carrying out the gods' will.”

　"And what about those elves?" Lyra Silverpointed at the Radiant Cloud Angels with their bronze skin. "Those angel legions are arrayed neatly, and the Redwing Warriors have their own organization, but those bronze-skinned elves seem to be fighting individually."

　"The Celestial Race of the Astral Blade." Casalos didn't mind continuing to answer the madwoman's questions; it would be troublesome if she accidentally drew her sword and attacked these angels: "The Celestial Race that loves punishing evil. They mainly reside in the Twin Heavens, but also operate in Heavenly Mountain. They are never absent from attacks on the Abyss. Astral Apostles and Divine Servants are directly under the gods who dispatched them, Holy Sword Envoys are under the command of Heavenly Mountain, and the Radiant Cloud Angels... they're just here for the fun of it."

　As they were talking, the golden light in the sky intensified. A tall figure slowly descended, its over 4-meter height making it look like a giant overlooking the battlefield. Golden skin shone in the light, black hair fluttered in the wind, and golden eyes, like miniature suns, scanned everything below.

　"What is that?" Sirinxi's voice was filled with surprise, clearly she had never seen such a sight before.

　No one could answer that question. Everyone present, including Elminster who had lived for thousands of years, was witnessing the true face of the archangel for the first time.

　Merciful Archangel Domiel. Casalos murmured the name to himself, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly.

　The celestial legion led by the ruler of the second level is quite unusual.

　Logically, a war launched by the material world to attack the abyss should have received support from the three righteous gods: Tyr, Tom, and Ilmat. Therefore, the archangel Balachiel, the messenger of the first layer, should have appeared as the commander. This is because the Temple of the Three Saints—Tyr's Court of Law, Tom's Heart of Sincerity, and the site of Ilmat's martyrdom—surrounds Lunia, the first layer of Mount Paradise, where their influence is strongest. Balachiel is also willing to obey the three righteous gods.

　But now the ruler of Mercuria has arrived... There is only one known Pan-Faelian god on the second level of Paradise Mountain, and that is the platinum dragon god Bahamut!

　Bahamut certainly has ample motivation to participate in Faerûn's war against the Abyss. The doctrines He is currently spreading and the faith He is propagating in Faerûn are basically intended to squeeze into the ranks of the gods of justice. He would certainly not miss the opportunity to launch a major attack on the Abyss to win the faith of the righteous and the favor of the benevolent gods.

　But this thing is still imprisoned on the Kingkiller Star, that's a certainty. So, how did He manage to mobilize the second-level archangels? Could it be that the cage imprisoning the Platinum Dragon God has been damaged to such an extent?

　Sure enough, even completely rewriting the final ending and trajectory of the Dragon Madness couldn't stop this ancient, cunning strategist who had been trapped for tens of thousands of years from escaping...

　Domiel slowly landed in front of the group, his enormous golden wings folding behind him. The greatsword in his hand was planted in the ground, emitting a heavy rumble.

　"Mortals and dragons," the archangel's voice boomed, echoing deep within the souls of every listener, "your courage has been recognized by the gods."

　His gaze swept over everyone present, finally settling on Casaloz: "Iron Dragon Casaloz, your plan to nail order into chaos has attracted the attention of Paradise Mountain."

　Casalos tilted his head, adopting the arrogance characteristic of dragons: "That's truly an honor. However, I thought Paradise Mountain would send something far more powerful, not just the gatekeeper of the second level."

　These words sent a chill down the spines of everyone present. Only a dragon would dare speak to an archangel of heaven like that—no, even the Golden Dragon Druid politely nodded in return.

　Domiel, however, remained calm and composed, saying, "You're right. I am merely the guardian of Mercuria, and I only command those who have transformed into the Void. These angelic legions each have their own lords, and I have no authority to command them. But the will of Paradise Mountain has brought us together."

　"The will of Paradise Mountain?" Casalos scoffed. "Don't make it sound so mystical. Whose will? Bahamut? He's still squatting on Kingkiller Planet."

　Domiel paused for a moment, then slowly said, "Some things cannot be stopped even by a cage. Justice will not be silenced by shackles."