Chapter 260 Final Chapter
The unknown demiplane.
The tail of the meteor streaked across the void, like a streak of vitality on the dead purple-red sky, emitting a life-filled greenery above the dangerous cliffs in the demiplane.
Planar Observer Evandel stood alone on the balcony where the wind was roaring outside the bedroom.
The carrier pigeon from Sigil City passed through the layers of plane portals and stopped here.
Beside the observer, two fifteen-foot-tall stone statues stand on both sides, with a dragon on one side and a phoenix on the other.
In the demiplane, there are countless such stone statues, which are unique.
They squat on the high walls of the ancient city in the demiplane. There are not only the Balor Balrogs in the Bottomless Abyss, but also the Yugolos in the Scorched Hell. Even if they are hidden in the unknown of the multiverse, The earth's divine evils and ancient evils have never been absent.
When he first arrived in the demiplane and took up the post of observer, he was embarrassed by the ferocious stone statues all over the city.
As time passed, he became accustomed to it.
Now, he even regards them as old friends, standing side by side with them, staring at the sky uneasily.
The plane observer Evandel has always only believed in his own eyes. Even so, at his age, he has never seen such a bright meteor, let alone a meteor. At the same time, The mixture represents the life breath of nature and the arcane energy that 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: the Observation Platform.
For the ascensionists of the Source Believers Society, all life comes from the same divine source, and shows a higher or lower form according to the performance in the trial.
Because life is the furnace for forging personality and spirit, and keen thinking is the best way to learn from experience.
So one can recognize the trials of existence and know how to overcome them.
Only in this way can they rise to a more glorious form.
Whenever a life form of this level appears in the multiverse, a meteor will appear on the observatory and pierce the sky.
According to the light emitted by the meteor, observers can judge the strength of the tester who completed the trial and gave birth to the godhead, and thus they can capture the position so that they can study the mysteries of divinity.
The meteor in front of me is clearly visible even in the daytime.
This made him realize that this could not help but represent the tester's divine potential, and also proved that the tester was likely to be born in the etheric plane.
Observer Evandell couldn't help but wonder if his stone statue friends had ever witnessed such a vision.
After all, they had settled here before he arrived, and they will live here forever after his death.
They may have witnessed the birth of many gods, or they may understand what this means.
It would be great if the stone statues could talk, although it sounds a bit ridiculous, he thought to himself as he rubbed his fingers on the rough black stone surface.
"Teacher Evandell, 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, facing away from the half-plane Xiao Se, holding the phoenix statue with one hand, and said, "Help me sit down, and then invite the guests in."
The apprentice held his arm His hand led him into the study.
Ewendel also walked lightly when he was young, but thousands of years have not allowed this divine ascendant of the Source Believers to complete his trial.
To be precise, no one who has ascended to the gods has been able to complete his or her own trial.
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 it.
He didn't care about this, someone had to take over the position of observer.
He asked the young man to seat himself at the desk, which was piled with books and papers, "Bring the guests in, don't keep them waiting."
The observer waved his hand weakly , urging the apprentice to act quickly.
He himself was already a man unable to rush. His hands were covered with wrinkles and spots. Under the dry, paper-thin skin, dense blood vessels and dry bones could almost be seen.
The guest who followed the apprentice in was an elf with long fiery red hair and shining eyes. She held a dancing flame in her hand.
Ewendel, who is observant of everything, knows that this is the red flame angel of the Aithorn Celestial Clan.
They love singing and dancing around the campfire more than anything.
This seemingly boring hobby conceals their serious attitude as guardians of art and beauty.
As angels who devote their whole body and soul to art and love, they are always ready to take up arms to protect the art they cherish and the artists who create them.
The Red Flame Angel is one of the Arcanine Clan who likes to travel the most.
They often wander around like bards, admiring everything from magnificent sunsets to exquisite stagecraft.
This made him wonder whether letting a red flame angel act as an observer and silently guard the observatory was a mercy or cruelty to her?
"I have heard about you, Miss Cirelli, the heir of the Watchers." Evandell said slowly, "It is said that in a public interview, you hope to drive away the Prime Materialist in Sigil. , and created a new faction, a faction in the anti-matter world, called: Planar Supremacy."
"That's right, Mr. Evander." The beautiful red flame angel thought for a moment and replied sharply.
“I cannot ignore that the overpopulation is overcrowding our great cities, nor can I tolerate those parasites in the material world taking away the job opportunities, daily necessities and food that should belong to the people on the plane. Likewise, We can't pretend to ignore those mindless vampires polluting our land and abusing our great lady's portal." "So, miss, what do you hope to gain by stirring up the emotions of the Antimatter?" Ivan? Del asked curiously.
"To put it simply, take back our city, because more and more gangsters are falling here from their rough and vulgar planes, and we must stop this before we are drowned by them. Flooding." Miss Red Flame Angel gritted her teeth.
At this moment, Evandell finally understood the reason why the president sent her to act as an observer.
"To put it bluntly, I am hostile to any material guy I meet." She then added:
"And in order to liberate our city from the control of brainless guys, I will hire anyone Plane creatures who are willing to help me. Naturally, this includes some of the supporters I gained in the speaker's hall."
Ewendel was silent for a long time and said slowly, "Miss, in my opinion, 伱. These extreme remarks are nothing more than eager to have a place in the speaker's hall. Of course, it is also possible that Asura Koi is forcing you to obtain higher rights in order to help him sell arms to the devil in the bloody battle."
< br>"...My followers will not be grateful to hear such despicable lies spewed out of your mouth. Maybe you are not as promising as I thought. Maybe you still bleed the blood of the Prime Material Guy?" Red Flame Angel retorted.
“None of this matters anymore, our conversation ends here.” Evandel raised his hand and said to her:
"I found a meteor mixed with arcane energy and life. This is the most dazzling meteor I have seen in nearly a thousand years of observation. The whole process has been recorded by me at the observatory. I found this meteor where The important task of determining the location of the etheric plane is now left to you. If we can find the location of this meteor, it will undoubtedly further prove the correctness of our philosophy for us ascendants."
< br>"I will help you make up for your regrets." The red flame angel replied. The flames in her bright eyes represented the extraordinary importance she attached to this meteor. "Any newborn god will avoid it." But my observation.”
Ewendel nodded slightly, activated the portal, and disappeared.
The city is shrouded in haze.
It would be wrong to call it dusk, because there is no sunlight spreading across the sky, no silvery clouds hanging above the low horizon, no deepening blue spreading across the dome.
Only the increasing sombre gray leaked out from the closets and niches of the city's hundreds of shantytowns and spread over the dirty cobblestones, filling the avenues with dense, lifeless darkness like fog on the roads.
In Sigil City, there is no morning light before dawn, no ending heralding the initial beginning, no death triggering a new birth, only endless dust, the passing of time, and the undulating gray spans the transition between sunset and dark night.
Some poets spoke passionately about the glory of the city, singing about the afterglow of the setting sun spreading across the rooftops, and describing the gentle chatter and laughter in their cities, but no poet used this method to praise Sigil.
For this is a gray, dank, dirty place, full of noise and quarrels, smooth stones and razorvine.
Although there are native-born poets in Sigil who write about their hometowns, the content they write is not about glorious sunsets or walks in parks that smell of sweet perfume.
They write about what goes unseen in the dark scroll, about how the streets rumble like a pit full of dying beasts, about the decay cleaning the bones of the city.
This is Sigil: the amazing Sigil, the dangerous Sigil, the incredible Sigil.
Music flows, and the soft and sweet notes flow through the ears, floating in an scattered and soothing manner through the streets of Sigil City's ladies district.
It caught everyone's ears, whispering and luring them closer.
Above this musical background, a beautiful soprano sang a ballad with perfect melody and lingering grace.
Evander, the outgoing observer, stepped deeper into the ladies section.
He heard these flute-like songs and hypnotic music become more distinct, like celestial music, leading the curious listener to its source - the singing fountain.
The Singing Fountain is undoubtedly a wonder in the entire Sigil City.
It is magnificently located between the city court, the temple and the Twelve Presidents Hotel.
On a circular stone pool with a radius of 100 feet, many metal tanks are tilted towards the sky, each of which receives the water falling from the pool on the upper floor.
Each flume here has its own special pitch, which is perfect for matching the tones of violins and voices.
When the water is at its strongest, the sound of the fountain sounds as soothing as a heavenly choir.
But no matter how fascinating the sounds of the water are, it is the singing of the priestess Marian that ultimately attracts tourists.
Moreover, only this priestess can see, or to be precise, hear the future of the person who drinks the water from this pool.
Marian has been the keeper of the Singing Fountain for as long as the eldest member of Sigil's oldest family can remember.
Of course, there may be people who know the truth but choose to remain silent.
This slim priestess looks less than 30 years old. Her smooth 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 eternal youth. medicine, but such claims have never been confirmed.
This priestess in a flowing white cloak 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 covered with cold black shadows in her big eyes are the key to her name.
In Sigil City, pigeons with gray-green feathers often gather by the fountain pool.
Whenever their noisy and plaintive cooing disturbed the sweet sound of the fountain's water, Marianne would stop to collect and dry the fallen feathers of the pigeons.
Occasionally, she would pass one or two of them to people who came to listen to the music - these little gifts always flattered them.
Of course, she usually pins these feathers on her cloak or in her long hair.
In hot weather, if a flock of white doves surround the fountain all day, Marianne's body will be covered with their fallen feathers, making her look less like a human and more like a beautiful bird white swan.
"Miss Marian." Evandell slowly came to the singing fountain and looked at the priestess, "I was ordered by the president to come to inquire about the future of that meteor."
Priestess Marian He is a prophet of the Source Believers Association. Whenever observers find a meteor with unlimited potential at 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. Evander." The priestess nodded slightly, with her usual mysterious smile on her face, and said softly, "He only Share it with me."
"It's not just the dove's feathers that fall in the fountain." She took a feather from her hair and threw it into the fountain, her sweet voice sounding like a singing fountain. The music flowing out of it is equally sweet and sweet, "There is still a future..."
As usual, Evander followed the gaze of the priestess and looked alone at the singing fountain with surging water.
In a daze, 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 of Sigil.
He squeezed through the crowded alleys in the lower city, holding a huge bronze vessel in his arms, so he could not free his hand to hold the sword.
He wore an ancient bronze battle armor without a cloak to protect him from the acid mist that often hung in the city.
A wallet on his belt was swaying, bulging and conspicuous, as if encouraging pickpockets to come and do their job.
However, the dull and crowded crowd around him almost turned a blind eye to him. Whether it was the demons in the bottomless abyss or the seraphs in the heavens, they deliberately kept a distance from him.
Ewendel knew that this man was definitely a dangerous hunter.
In the fountain, he saw the outsider walking into the marble district of Sigil, where the buildings were tall and solid, blackened by soot.
The outsider carried the ancient bronze vessel and went straight to the palace of the Lady of Pain, the ruler of Sigil.
The palace gate is an incredibly huge iron gate, huge enough to house the God of the Earth Split himself. It is shaped like a war crown, with strong long wings extending from each side.
The walls are as brown as mudstone and as tall as the cliffs, their surfaces dotted with three rows of ordinary small square windows.
The most striking feature is the central gate tower. The huge rudder-like tower is generated by six curved spiers. They bend inward towards the central spire. The apex is so high that it disappears into the city of Sigil. In brown fog.
Oh, the tower is not ivory,
Built by hands that touched heaven from hell,
Oh mysterious swamp rose,
Oh house of wealth without gold,
Oh house of endless fire So,
Oh, 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 desolate and deep lament:
I passed through the outermost portal.
To reach this holy place where prayer is a sin,
Why do you mind the service of mortals?
Oh, our torture lady, why do you care?
It’s the last glass of wine I pour for you,
It’s us drinking the Holy Grail in one gulp.
I implore you to respond to the altar,
our Lady of Agony.
.........
"This outsider is trying to get a response from the Lady of Pain through prayer." Staring at the scene in the fountain, an uncontrollable fear appeared on Evandel's old face.
The ruler of Sigil, the Lady of Pain, is real, but no one has ever spoken to her.
No one.
Because many people who happened to see the Lady of Pain floating over the streets died quietly in the lair.
She is neither kind nor sympathetic, and no fool can hope to receive her mercy.
Occasionally she is interested in saving others, but more often than not she is interested in killing.
But Sigil relies on her protection. The administrators believe that the Lady of Pain created Sigil, while the Mysterians suspect that it is all just a dream of the Lady of Pain.
Of course, even if the Lady of Pain blocks all the portals, it does not mean that the demons will give up trying to sneak in.
She needs to maintain strong mana at all times to block them.
Once the demons are able to weaken her, the seal will be lifted and all layers of the Tunnel Plane will be shattered.
The demon lords may not be able to enter Sigil yet, but their spies, agents, and supporters have gathered here. This group of people has been looking for a secret method to defeat the Lady of Pain.
However, what makes Evander incredible is that the outsiders' devout prayers actually work.
In the surging fountain, he saw the Lady of Pain really appear.
She was suspended in the air, the edge 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 circle of sharp steel blades, lips as black as toner, and resolute amber eyes, which ignited a trembling fear in Evander's chest.
"Salute to you, madam, I have prepared a gift for you." The outsider pointed to a huge bronze vessel placed on the ground and said respectfully, "With your ability..."
Ms. Pain raised her hand, and the outsider's words were silently interrupted.
Her amber eyes were locked on the outsider, and she spoke slowly, with a hint of sadness, "If I can, I will forgive your subtle words.
But this is Sigil, and no god can stop. If I answer your prayers, the gates will open, the city itself will collapse, and I will stand up, alone, against all the gods of the multiverse.
They will bring starlight chains and flaming battle axes to destroy me, including evil gods and good gods, thus triggering a war that cuts across the planes.
So what? So what if the pain is imprisoned in the deepest abyss, limited to the will of Demogorgon, Dekaradze, or other evil gods?
Let me tell you: every plane has tyranny, cowardice and darkness, every breath is filled with fear, a bad ruler himself ruled by unexpected hunger and thirst, he plunders the multiverse everything, and robbed themselves of anything they could get their hands on.
If the good god wins, it will be even worse: an endless world of endless comfort, no pain to build strength, no suffering to breed courage, no fear to breed cunning. There would be no adventure in a multiverse of mundane passions and cold longings, for there would be nothing to lose, no outbursts of anger, no passion for love, and no life worth living. I had no choice in the matter. For the sake of the multiverse, I must punish you! ”
Lady Pain curled her fingers into the black claws and swung down in the air.
A loud, metallic scream sounded from the outsider.
Cracks appeared on the ancient bronze armor of the outsider who was under attack.
What shocked Evandel even more was that several of the sharp claws used by Ms. Pain to attack outsiders were broken. Her eyebrows were raised high, obviously she did not expect this situation.
There is no doubt that the outsiders survived the attacks of Sigil's terror masters.
The outsider immediately chose to raise his hands to show that he had no ill intentions, and explained to her, "Madam, I come for peace, and the purpose of coming here is to give you a gift."
A burst of sneer. Shadows flashed across the lips of the Lady of Pain.
She ignored the outsider's excuses, but stretched out a finger to draw through the air, and the sound of cascading metal breaking echoed between the walls of the alley again.
The outsider fell backwards, and the simple bronze breastplate was torn open by a series of long gaps, like a heavy blow from some enchanted weapon.
Although his mission was benevolent in nature, a seething rage had begun to simmer.
"So far, I'm trying to behave calmly." The outsider wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, stood up angrily, and placed one hand on the sword carried behind him, "But I warn you, this armor is my most beloved Someone made it with your own hands, and you destroyed it, you are forcing me to do it!”
The lady narrowed her eyes slightly, and then curled her hands into fists.
The scream of collapsing metal sounded, and his breastplate was pinched into an hourglass shape by the Lady of Pain. The pain from the squeezing of the armor caused blood to gush out of his mouth.
Immediately afterwards, the outsider seemed to have suffered a terrible blow, and the space behind him also collapsed in this powerful force, turning into a terrifying black whirlpool, swallowing his entire body and the surroundings. The bronze vessel sucked it all in.
Not only did the outsider survive, but his act of bravery would preserve his name, and even his legend, in the songs of bards throughout the multiverse.
The picture disappeared, and observer Evandel was brought back to reality.
He looked at the solemn-looking priestess with confusion, "Isn't that meteor related to the 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 hunch tells me that the only thing that can be related to this outsider is the meteor."
"What do you mean? What?" Evander asked.
“This outsider is not dead.” The priestess said softly, “In the rift that tore apart space, I saw him fall into 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 quasi-divine power, but he can resist it with just the strength of his body. Lady Pain, whose strength is comparable to that of a powerful god. Maybe if we find him, we can truly unlock the secret of the Source Believers."
Priestess Marian opened a portal and disappeared.
Evendel, the last observer of the Source Believer’s Society, was about to speak, but his voice suddenly got stuck in his throat.
He tried hard to suck in air, but he only coughed up a horrifyingly thin hiss.
His neck seemed to be tightly strangled by steely fingers, and finally his feet went limp and he knelt down weakly.
At this moment, his personal experience allowed him to confirm a legend:
The ruler of Sigil, Lady Pain, is real, but no one has ever talked to her.
No one.
Because many people who happened to see the Lady of Pain floating over the streets died quietly in the lair.
In a daze, Evander seemed to see Lady Pain watching her fall with pity.
Her amber eyes continuously transformed into emerald, golden, bright red, jet...
In his gradually blurred consciousness, he seemed to hear A sigh:
"There are four kinds of pain spreading across the multiverse - pain, sadness, doom and despair - they mature and then explode, overwhelming all strength and submission. I don't know where they come from. . Maybe I created them with my own hands, maybe they emerged from a hidden place deeper and darker than the bottom of the abyss, where the fog is suspended as thick as a rock, and death is the sweetest memory. . All I can say is: the place where my heart once was is now empty, because it has jumped out of this void the suffering of the entire multiverse."
It turns out that these pains are a gift to him... When Evandel was dying at the end of his life, a smile of relief appeared on the corner of his mouth.
…………
(End of this chapter)