Arcane Journey

Chapter 261 Final Chapter
Unknown demiplane.

The tail of the meteor streaked across the void, like a burst of vitality in the dead purple-red sky, emitting greenery full of life breath above the precipitous cliffs of the demiplane.

Plane Observer Evandel stood alone on the balcony where the wind was howling outside the bedroom.

The carrier pigeons from Sigil City passed through the layers of plane portals and stopped here.

Beside the observer, two stone statues fifteen feet high stood on either side, with a dragon on one side and a phoenix on the other.

In the demiplane, there are countless stone statues like this, which are unique.

They squat on the high walls of the ancient city of the demiplane. There are not only the Barlow demons of the bottomless abyss, but also the Yugoloth demons of the scorching hell. Evil things have never been absent.

Back then when he first came to the demiplane and took up the post of observer, he was embarrassed by the hideous stone statues all over the city.

As time went by, he got used to it.

Now, he even regards them as old friends, standing side by side with them, staring at the sky anxiously.

Plane Observer Evandel has always only believed in his own eyes. Having said that, but at his age, he has never seen such a bright meteor, let alone a meteor mixed with the breath of life that represents nature. and arcane energy, which represents magic.

This is the headquarters of the Source Believers Association located in the etheric plane, and the balcony where he stands is also called: God Observation Platform.

For the god-climbers of the Source Believers Association, all life comes from the same divine source, and they show higher or lower forms according to their performance in trials.

Because life is a melting pot for casting personality and spirit, sharp thinking is the best way to learn from experience.

So a person can recognize the trials of existence and know how to overcome them.

Only then can they rise to a more glorious form.

Whenever life forms of this level appear in the multiverse, a shooting star will appear in the God Observatory.

According to the light emitted by the meteor, the observers can judge the strength of the tester who completed the trial and gave birth to the godhead, so they can capture the position so that they can study the mysteries of divinity.

The meteor in front of me was clearly visible even during the day.

This made him realize that this could not help but represent the godhead potential of the tester, and it also proved that the tester was likely to be born in the etheric plane.

Observer Evandel couldn't help wondering whether his stone friend had ever witnessed such a vision.

After all, they had been here long before his arrival, and they would live here long after his death.

They may have really witnessed the birth of many gods, or they may understand what this means.

It would be great if the stone statue could talk, although it sounds a bit absurd, he thought to himself as he rubbed his fingers against the rough black stone surface.

"Mr. Evandel, someone is visiting." His apprentice appeared behind him at some point and said softly, as if he didn't want to disturb his meditation.

The observer turned around, turned his back on the half-plane Xiao Se, held the stone statue of the phoenix with one hand, and said, "Help me to sit down, and then invite the guests to come in."

The apprentice took his hand and led him into the study.

Evandel also used to walk lightly when he was young, but the millennium years did not allow this god-climber of the Source Believers to complete his own trials.

To be precise, none of the god-climbers could complete their own trials.

His legs were already weak and unstable, and his mental health continued to deteriorate.

It is said that the Temple of Ascension in Sigil is about to send a new successor to replace him.

He didn't care about this, someone had to take over the observer's position.

He asked the young man to place himself at the desk, which was full of books and papers, "Bring the guests in, and don't keep them waiting."

The observer waved weakly, urging the apprentice to move quickly.

He himself has long been a weak and hasty person, his hands are covered with wrinkles and spots, and under the dry, paper-thin skin, dense blood vessels and dry bones can almost be seen.

The guest who followed the apprentice was an elf with long fiery red hair and shining eyes, holding a dancing flame in her hand.

Evandel, who observes the subtleties of everything, knows that this is the red flame angel of the Assassins.

They love singing and dancing around the campfire more than anything.

But this seemingly boring hobby conceals their serious attitude as guardians of art and beauty.

As angels who put their hearts and minds into art and love, they are always ready to take up arms to protect the art they cherish and the artists who create it.

The Red Flame Angel is also the one who likes to travel around the most among the Assassins.

They often wander around like bards, admiring all things beautiful, from the majestic sunsets to the exquisite stagecraft.

This made him wonder, let a red flame angel act as an observer and silently guard the observatory. To her, is it compassion or cruelty?

"I've heard of you, Miss Cirily, the heir of the Observer." Evandel said slowly, "It is said that in a public interview, you hoped to drive away the prime materialists in Sigil and create a new one with you." The faction, a faction in the anti-material world, is called: the supremacy of the plane."

"That's right, Mr. Evandel." The beautiful red-flame angel thought for a while and answered sharply.

"I cannot ignore the overpopulation that is crowding our great cities, nor can I tolerate those parasites on the Material Plane taking jobs, daily necessities, and food that should belong to the planes, nor can I pretend to ignore those brainless vampires pollute our lands and misuse the portals of our great lady."

"Then, miss, what exactly do you hope to achieve by stirring up the emotions of the antimatter?" Evandel asked curiously.

"Simply put, take back our city, because more and more buffoons have fallen here from their vulgar plane, we must stop this flood before they drown." Red Flame Angel The lady said through gritted teeth.

At this moment, Evandel finally understood why the president sent her to act as an observer.

"To put it bluntly, I am hostile to any prime material guy I meet." She went on to add:
"And to liberate our city from mindless gangsters, I'll employ any planar creature that will help me. Naturally, this includes some of the supporters I've gained in the Speakers' Hall."

Evandel was silent for a long time, and said slowly, "Miss, in my opinion, these extreme remarks of yours are nothing more than eager to occupy a place in the speaker hall. Of course, it is also possible that Ashura Koi is forcing you to obtain higher rights in order to help him sell arms to the devil in the bloody war."

"... My followers will not be grateful to hear such a despicable lie spit out of your mouth. Maybe you are not as promising as I thought. Maybe you still have the blood of the main material guy?" Hong Yan Angel retorted.

"These are not important anymore, our conversation is over here." Evandel raised her hand and said to her:
"I found a meteor mixed with arcane energy and breath of life. This is the most dazzling meteor I have seen in nearly a thousand years of observation. I have recorded the whole process in the Observatory. I found this meteor in The important task of the location of the etheric plane is left to you now. If we can find the location of this meteor, it will undoubtedly further prove the correctness of our philosophy for us god-climbers."

"I will help you make up for your regrets." The red flame angel replied, the flames in her bright eyes represented that she attached great importance to this meteor, "Any new gods can't hide from me observation."

Evandel nodded slightly, activated the portal, and disappeared.

The city was shrouded in obscurity.

It would be a mistake to call it twilight, for there is no sun spreading across the sky, no silvery clouds hanging over the low horizon, no darkening blue spreading across the domes.

Only a gradually increasing dusky gray, leaking from the closets and alcoves of the city's hundreds of shanties, spread over the dirty cobblestones, like the fog on a road, filling the avenues with lifeless dense darkness.

In Sigil, there is no morning light before dawn, no ending heralding the first beginning, no death triggering a new birth, only endless dust, passing all the time, undulating gray spanning the transition between dusk and night.

Some poets spoke passionately of the glory of the city, of the afterglow of the setting sun over the rooftops, of the gentle talk and laughter of their city, but no poet praised Sigil in this way.

For it was a gray, damp, dirty place, full of noise and quarrels, smooth stones and razorvine.

While there are native-born poets in Sigil who write about their hometowns, they don't write about glorious sunsets or walks in sweet-scented parks.

They wrote of unseen things in the dark scrolls, of how the streets rumbled like a pit full of dying beasts, of rot cleaning the city's bones.

This is Sigil: Amazing Sigil, Dangerous Sigil, Incredible Sigil.

The music flowed, and the soft and melodious notes flowed past the ears, scattered and soothingly floating through the streets and alleys of the ladies' district of Sigil.

It catches everyone's ears, murmurs to lure them closer.

On top of this musical background, a beautiful soprano sings a perfectly melodic, haunting ballad.

Evandel, the retired observer, stepped into the depths of the ladies' quarters.

He heard these flute-like voices and hypnotic music grow clearer, like a celestial ecstasy, leading the curious listener to its fountain, the singing fountain.

The Singing Fountain is undoubtedly a wonder in the whole city of Sigil.

It sits majestically between the City Court, the Temple, and the Inn of the Twelve Leaders.

On a circular stone pool with a radius of 100 feet, many metal water tanks are tilted towards the sky, each receiving the water flow from the pool on the upper floor.

Each of the tanks here has its own special pitch, which is very suitable for the music of the violin and the vocals.

At its height, the fountain's water sounds as soothing as a heavenly choir.

But no matter how intriguing the sounds of the water are, it is the singing of the priestess Marianne that ultimately draws visitors in.

Moreover, only the priestess can see, or more precisely, hear, the future of those who drink from the pool.

Marianne has been the guardian of the Singing Fountain for as long as the oldest of Sigil's oldest families can remember.

Of course, it is also possible that someone knows the truth but chooses to keep silent.

This slender priestess looks less than 30 years old on the outside, and her milky white skin can even reflect the ripples of the pool water. There are also a few fools who think that the pool water must be the elixir of eternal youth, but such remarks Never been confirmed.

Wearing a flowing white cloak, the priestess often glides gracefully through the streets of Sigil like a will-o'-the-wisp.

Her fine flaxen hair, like a cloak made of corn silk, fell straight to her slender waist.

In fact, the irises and pupils of her large eyes, covered with cold shadows, are the key to her name.

In Sigil, the pigeons with gray and green feathers often gather by the fountain's pool.

Whenever their loud, mournful cooing disturbed the melodious sound of the fountain, Marianne would stop to collect and dry the doves' fallen feathers.

Occasionally, she would pass one or two of them to music-goers—they were always flattered by the little gifts.

Of course, she usually pins these feathers on her cloak or in her long hair.

If a flock of white doves circled the fountain all day in hot weather, Marianne would be covered with their fallen feathers, making her look less like a human being than a beautiful white swan.

"Miss Marianne." Evandel walked slowly to the singing fountain and looked at the priestess. "I am ordered by the president to come and ask about the future of that meteor."

Priestess Marianne is the prophet of the Believers of the Source. Whenever observers find meteors with infinite potential on the altar, they will come to obtain fragments of the prophecy.

And that's exactly what he came here for.

"The knowledge of divination belongs to my Lord, Mr. Evandel." The priestess nodded slightly, with her usual mysterious smile on her face, and said softly, "He only shares it with me."

"It's not just the feathers of pigeons that fell into the fountain." She took a feather from her hair and threw it into the fountain. Her sweet voice was as melodious as the music flowing from the singing fountain, " There is a future..."

As usual, Evandel followed the gaze of the priestess and looked alone towards the singing fountain with flowing water.

In a trance, he saw a clear picture emerging from the fountain.

He saw a figure in the fountain, with black hair and black eyes.

He is not a native resident of Sigil.

He squeezed his way through the crowded alleys of the Lower City, with the huge bronze vessel in his arms, so that he could not free his hand to hold the sword.

He wore ancient bronze battle armor, and did not put on a cloak to resist the acid fog that often hovered in this city.

A wallet dangles from his belt, bulging and conspicuous, as if to entice pickpockets to come and do their business.

However, the dull and crowded crowd around him almost turned a blind eye to him. Whether it was the demons from the bottomless abyss or the seraphs from the heavens, they deliberately kept a distance from him.

Evendell knew that this man was definitely a dangerous hunter.

From the fountain, he saw the outsider step into Sigil's marble district, where the buildings were tall and hard, black with soot.

The outsider, holding the ancient bronze vessel, went straight to the palace of the Lady Pain, the ruler of Sigil.

The gates of the palace were impossibly large iron gates, large enough to house the Earthbreaker himself, and shaped like war crowns, with long, sturdy wings extending from each side.

The walls were brown as mudstone and as tall as the cliffs, their faces punctuated by three rows of unremarkable small square windows.

The most notable feature was the central gate tower, a massive rudder-like tower generated by six curved spiers that curved inwards toward the central spire, apexes so high they disappeared into the brown mist of Sigil.

Oh, towers are not ivory,

Built by hands that touched heaven from hell,
O mysterious marsh rose,
O rich house without gold,

O place of endless fire,

O our Lady of Pain!
…………

The outsider suddenly put down the bronze vessel in his arms, faced the palace of the Lady of Pain, and sang a sad and deep lament:
I pass through the outermost portal.

To reach this prayer is the sanctuary of iniquity,

Why do you mind the service of mortals?

Oh our torture lady, why do you care?
It's my last glass of wine for you,

We are the ones who drink up the Holy Grail.

I implore you to respond to the altar,

Our Lady of Pain.

…………

"This outsider is trying to get a response from Lady Pain through prayer." Gazing at the scene in the fountain, an uncontrollable fear floated on Evandel's old face.

The ruler of Sigil, the Lady of Pain is real, but no one ever talks to her.

Nobody.

Because many people who happened to see the Lady of Pain floating above the street died quietly in the lair.

She has neither kindness nor sympathy, and no fool could expect her pity.

She occasionally has a passion for helping others, but more often it is killing.

But Sigil relies on her protection. The administrators believe that the Lady of Pain created Sigil, and the secret rhymers suspect that all this is just a dream of the Lady of Pain.

Of course, even if the Lady of Pain blocks all the portals, that doesn't mean the demons will give up trying to sneak in.

She needs to keep a lot of mana on hand to stop them.

Once the demons are able to weaken her, the seal will be lifted, and all layers of structure in the plane of Rabid Void will be broken.

Perhaps the demon lords have not yet been able to enter Sigil, but their spies, agents, and supporters have gathered here. This group of people has been looking for the secret method to defeat the Lady of Pain.

However, what makes Evandel feel unbelievable is that the pious prayers of outsiders actually worked.

In the surging fountain, he saw the Lady of Pain actually appear.

She was suspended in the air, the hem of her long brocade robe hovering inches above the dust.

The Lady is a dazzling tall beauty with exquisite features and an aura of divine serenity.

She had no hair, replaced by a ring of sharp steel blades, toner-black lips, and hard amber eyes that made Evandel's chest shudder with fear.

"I salute you, ma'am, I have prepared a gift for you." The outsider pointed to a huge bronze vessel on the ground and said respectfully, "With your ability..."

Lady Pain raised her hand, and the outsider's words were silently interrupted.

Her amber eyes locked on the outsider, and she spoke slowly, with a hint of sadness, "If I can, I will forgive your delicate words.

But this is Sigil, and any god will stop, and if I answer your prayers, the doors will open, the city itself will collapse, and I will stand up alone against all the gods of the multiverse.

They will destroy me with star chains and flame battle axes, including evil gods and good gods, thus triggering a war that cuts the planes.

so what?So what if suffering is imprisoned in the deepest abyss, confined to the will of Demogorgon, Dekladze, or some other evil god?

Let me tell you: every plane has tyranny, cowardice and darkness, every breath is full of fear, a bad ruler himself ruled by unexpected hunger and desire, he plunders everything in the multiverse, robs himself anything you want.

Had the good gods prevailed, it would have been worse: endless worlds of endless ease, no pain to build strength, no trouble to breed courage, no fear to breed cunning.A multiverse of ordinary passions and apathetic longings, there will be no adventures, because there is nothing to lose, no outbursts of anger, no passions for love, and no lives worth living.In this matter, I have no choice.For the sake of the multiverse, I must punish you! "

The Lady of Pain curled her fingers into the black claws, and she swiped down through the air.

A loud, metallic screech sounded from the outsider.

Cracks appeared on the ancient bronze armor of the attacked outsider.

What shocked Evandel even more was that several of the sharp claws that the Lady of Pain used to attack the outsiders were broken, and her eyebrows were raised high, obviously she did not expect this situation.

There is no doubt that the outsiders survived the onslaught of Sigil's dreadful administrators.

The outsider immediately raised his palm to show that he did not have any malice, and explained to her, "Ma'am, I am here for peace, and the purpose of coming here is to give you a gift."

A shadow of a sneer flashed across the lips of the Lady of Pain.

She ignored the outsider's justification, but stretched out a finger across the air, and the sound of layered metal breaking echoed between the walls of the alleyway again.

The outsider fell backwards, the ancient bronze breastplate being torn apart by a long row of slits, like the blow of some enchanted weapon.

Despite the benign nature of his mission, a seething rage had begun to boil.

"So far, I have tried to behave peacefully." The outsider wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, stood up angrily, and put one hand on the sharp sword behind his back, "But I warn you, this armor is my favorite The person who made it with his own hands, you destroyed it, you are forcing me to do it!"

The lady narrowed her eyes slightly, then curled her hands into fists.

There was a scream of crumbling metal, and his breastplate was pinched into an hourglass shape by the Lady of Pain. The pain of the armor's squeezing made blood gushes out of his mouth.

Immediately afterwards, the outsider seemed to be hit by a terrible blow, and the space behind him also collapsed under this powerful force, turning into a terrifying black vortex, sucking his entire body, including the bronze vessel beside him. went in.

Not only did the outsider not die, his act of bravery would keep his name, and even his legend, a place in the songs of bards throughout the multiverse.

The screen disappears, and the Observer Evandel is pulled back to reality.

He looked at the dignified priestess with doubts on his face, "The shooting star must not be related to this outsider who tried to challenge the lady of pain."

"I don't know." The priestess shook her head slightly and looked at him apologetically, "My premonition tells me that the only thing that can be related to this outsider is the meteor."

"What do you mean?" Evandel asked.

"This outsider is not dead." The priestess said softly, "In the torn space crack, I saw him fall in a desert in the world of Toril."

"I want to find it myself." She glanced at the singing fountain with nostalgia, and made up her mind:
"Because he has neither divine power nor divine-like power, but he is able to resist the Ms. Pain who is as powerful as divine power with only physical strength. Maybe if we find him, we will be able to truly unlock the secrets of the Yuantou Believers Association."

Priestess Marianne opened a portal and disappeared.

Evandel, the former Observer of the Source Believers Association, was about to speak, but his voice suddenly got stuck in his throat.

He tried to suck in air, only to cough out a frighteningly thin hiss.

His neck seemed to be tightly strangled by fingers like steel, and finally his feet were limp and he knelt down feebly.

At this moment, his personal experience allowed him to confirm a legend:
The ruler of Sigil, the Lady of Pain is real, but no one ever talks to her.

Nobody.

Because many people who happened to see the Lady of Pain floating above the street died quietly in the lair.

In a trance, Evandel seemed to see the Lady of Pain watching him fall with pity.

Her amber eyes transformed into emerald, golden yellow, bright red, black jade one after another...

In his gradually blurred consciousness, he seemed to hear a sigh:
"There are four kinds of pain that run across the multiverse—pain, sorrow, doom, and despair—that ripen and explode, overpowering all toughness and obedience. I don't know where they come from. Maybe I created them myself, Perhaps they emerged from hidden places deeper and darker than the bottom of the Abyss, where there hangs a mist as thick as a rock, and death is the sweetest memory. All I can say is: in my own chest There, where the heart once stood, is now empty, for it has sprung out of this void the misery of the entire multiverse."

It turned out that these pains were a kind of gift to him... On the last day of his life, Evandel smiled in relief.

…………

(End of this chapter)