From Hogwarts to Strixhaven.

Chapter 543 My Brother is a +12 Warhammer

"Do you really have a way to bring Liraco back, mage?"

In response to Minsk's question, Ivy's answer was prayer.

As a powerful spell capable of altering reality, Ivy can open a portal to Jahira's lost valley of Liracoul simply by speaking.

Although the power of prayer is immense, there are many things that this spell cannot achieve. If the wish is something like "to become the strongest in the world" or "to obtain the scepter of the Lord of the Nine Hells," which sounds extremely difficult, then there's a limit.

Then the spell will choose some unconventional methods to achieve its goal.

For example, someone who wishes to "become the strongest in the world" might have their time frozen until everyone stronger than them dies before they regain their freedom.

Those who covet the supreme power of the Lord of the Nine Hells are likely to be teleported directly to Asmodeus, since everyone knows that the Lord of the Nine Hells never relinquishes his scepter.

Therefore, unless it is for copying spells or gaining intrinsic attribute bonuses, one must be extremely careful when using the Prayer spell, as the side effects of this spell can be fatal.

That's why Ivy didn't make a wish that was direct in purpose, like "obtaining Liracoel," but with a vague method of achieving it. Instead, she simply used a wish spell to open a portal.

"Too slow! Too slow!" Shortly after passing through the portal in Minsk, a sharp, impatient voice came from the other end of the portal. "Why did it take you so long to find me? For a while at first, I could still talk to that ogre's rotting ass, but now you can't even see its bones!"

“I’m so sorry. Minsk was turned into a stone and stood in the square for a hundred years. He only recently remembered you.” Minsk’s voice grew closer.

“Stones? Oh, you mean you see people coming and going in front of you, but you can’t draw your sword and chop them all to pieces?” Liraco asked incredulously. “Well, an ogre’s ass isn’t so bad compared to this.”

"But now that we're all free, let's get started on the killing spree! Of course, before that, you'd better polish me up properly! Ogre flesh stinks! Even after a hundred years, I still remember it vividly! And the nicks and dents on my body are more numerous than the craters in your purple head! People will mistake us for a pair of idiots! We can't let that little rat be the smartest guy!" This boasting was from Liracoul, a rusty-looking two-handed greatsword. The source of the voice was a wildly unrestrained, abstractly artistic face on the hilt, except that the face only had three rust-covered dents to represent eyes and a mouth.

"What are you talking about, Sword Bro?" Minsk, sword in hand, stepped out of the portal and returned to the training room beneath the Kazador Palace, where a crowd of adventurers eager to join the fun had already gathered. "You don't even have a nose!"

"Never mind that, Minsk! There are so many people here! Can you kill one or two with me? Anyone will do!" The abstract, ugly face on Liracoul's handguard changed its expression; if it had a tongue, it would definitely be licking the blade right now.

“Of course not!” Minsk tapped the tip of Liracoul’s sword on the training room floor, shaking off some dark brown rust. “They’re all comrades! But don’t be sad, the Baldur’s Gate is full of scoundrels now. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to show your skills.”

"Really? There are dragons? The most evil kind of dragons?" Liracoel was overjoyed.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Jahira interrupted Minsk and the talkative sword with a hint of melancholy. “How about you introduce yourself to everyone? Liracoor?”

"Who is this wrinkled old woman? Is she your new boss? Minsk?" Liracoul asked slyly, completely unimpressed. "I still prefer the old Son of Baal, especially the tainted blood in his veins!"

“That’s Jashira! My soul mentor! Have you forgotten?” Minsk said with a chuckle.

"Hahahaha!" A burst of shrill, obnoxious laughter erupted in the training room. "The elf has turned into an old woman! Can the wrinkles on your face trap flies? Jashira?"

If a high-ranking harpist's gaze could kill like Ivy's, Liracoul and Minsk would probably be dead hundreds of times over.

Ivy snapped her fingers, and the extended hilt of Liraco's sword immediately tied a knot in its mouth, silencing the talkative sword's incessant chatter.

“Answer our questions seriously, or I’ll shove you back into the ogre’s ass and sink you into the bottomless ocean,” Ivy threatened, then snapped her fingers again, releasing the gag from Liracoul’s mouth.

“I’m warning you, wizard! My brother has a +12 warhammer; he can smash you into two pancakes in one hit!” Minsk reached out and covered Liracoul’s mouth, stopping its intimidation.

“The wizard is the boss here! He’s incredibly powerful! If your brother isn’t around, Minsk suggests you listen carefully to what he has to say,” Minsk advised in a low voice.

“Are we really going to keep wasting time on a talking sword?” Minsara asked impatiently. Ivy’s deployments at the Shadow Embrace Monastery were largely useless, so the troops hiding in the Astral Prism were just wasting time.

“Good heavens, I never thought I’d agree with a drow.” Jashira shook her head. “While Liraco is an intelligent, talking sword, that doesn’t mean it’s actually smarter than Little Bu the hamster. I remember its smartest suggestion was something like… robbing nobles?”

Intelligent weapons are not a very rare thing in the D&D universe. As a "Traditional Warrior", Ivy can actually use the job ability "Replace Traditional Ability" to turn the Beastbite Sword into a weapon with intelligence. However, if the replaced Traditional Ability is too low-level, the weapon's intelligence will not be very high, and its personality is random.

If the Beastbite Sword were to become a mindless, talkative sword like Liraco's, then Ivy would probably consider scrapping it and reworking it.

However, in any case, the intelligent Liraco can indeed make up for some of Minsk's shortcomings, and Ivy's use of the ninth spell slot is not too wasteful.

According to the appraisal spell, Liracoor is a +3 two-handed greatsword that grants the wearer immunity to mind effects and causes the wearer's stealth rolls to fail automatically.

It's a weapon with mediocre strengths and weaknesses, and it's the kind Ivy would never want—its sound is just awful. ————

The day after the coronation ceremony of Gothash, the adventurers continued to follow Ivy's instructions methodically, searching for information about the Hag Gathering and Anzu, the guardian dragon of Baldur's Gate.

Jashira, who was in charge of finding the witch, approached Ivy before setting off, appearing extremely hesitant.

“The high-ranking harpists I’ve always known are decisive and efficient, never getting bogged down in pointless struggles. What’s wrong with you, Jahira?” Ivy had just come up from the basement, where he had placed Shar’s Dark Mirror and Viconia, who was now a prisoner. Although he wasn’t a follower of Shar, Ivy managed to figure out how to use the artifact thanks to his familiarity with magical items.

“You wouldn’t understand, Ivy,” Jasila sighed. “My children, Viconia, even the sword in Minsk… it’s as if all the people and things are suddenly reminding me: you’re getting old, Jasila.”

Ivy understood immediately. The high-ranking harpist must have started to consider the Eternal Body Ritual. If she wasn't interested at all, she wouldn't have kept the ritual diagram in her basement all this time.

Ivy wasn't interested in the possibility of restoring Jashira to her youth, but she was intrigued by the Eternal Body ritual. Although it used leyline energy from the earth, it still fell within the realm of magic. Perhaps by performing this ritual, Ivy could glimpse more possibilities within nature magic.

“For a half-elf, you’re practically living a long life, Jahira.” Ivy decided to add fuel to the fire. “Your children have grown up, and new heroes are fighting against the darkness of Baldur’s Gate. If it weren’t for your creed that keeps you so passionate, you probably would have already found a beautiful place to retire.”

"Huh? Lord Doom is starting to look down on this old man, is that it?" Jashira said sarcastically. "Don't think the old lady can't see what you're planning. That ritual... might not be suitable for me. What if I get tired of my duties as a harpist and have to find a place where no one knows the name Jashira to die? Wouldn't that be even worse?"

The principle behind the Eternal Body ritual is to use the power of the ley lines, or what druids call the power of nature, to sustain life. However, the land has consciousness and feelings, so only on familiar land can druids unleash the full power of the Eternal Body, resist the ailments that come with lifespan, and maintain youth and immortality.

If they were to arrive in a completely unfamiliar world, they would need to find other ways to reconnect with the land. Otherwise, the marks of time would once again etch themselves upon the druids.

“Alright. Then let’s not talk about this.” Ivy, whose intentions had been seen through, was not going to give up. He wanted to take a roundabout approach, and in the basement of the Qazador Palace, there happened to be a woman he could use. “Interested in talking to Viconia? I remember you two are old friends.”

"What? You used magic to help her turn over a new leaf?" Jasira crossed her arms, appearing extremely uncooperative.

But often only those who are anxious inside need to hide their true feelings through outward strength. Jashira is a strong warrior and a pillar of the Harpists' League. She only uses humorous sarcasm to express her refusal, rather than acting like a drow who has just emerged from the Underdark.

Ivy saw all this, but didn't show it: "No, I just returned the part of her memory that was taken from her by the Shar artifact."

"Shall really steal her memories?" Jasira lowered her arm and asked seriously, "Viconia was a master liar a hundred years ago, are you sure you haven't been fooled?"

“I might have used the word ‘seize’ inappropriately. There are indeed memories from Viconia in the Dark Mirror, but it’s hard to say whether she gave them to Shar herself.” Ivy shrugged. “She seemed very confused when I left the dungeon. Perhaps you can offer her some help. To deal with Gotash and the Supreme God, we must use everything we can.”

"Lead the way." Jahira opened the door without a word.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"You don't actually think this wrinkled old poodle can help you, do you, mage?" These were Viconia's first words to Jashira in the cell. "Besides giving some confusing and irresponsible advice, all she can do is bark to attract the enemy's attention."

"Or are you perhaps interested in the 'charming high-ranking harpist' the bards speak of?" Viconia's amethyst eyes swept over Ivy a few times before she sneered. "Believe me, she's long since dead, like a withered tree stump. Do you really expect those dry branches to bring you pleasure? In comparison, the sexual techniques of Menzoberranzan will surely make you a river of wetness."

“Ah.” Just like when she first met Viconia, Jasila’s expression was a mixture of disgust and surprise, as if she were seeing a long-lost nemesis. “Evil, lewd, and outspoken, it seems that Shar has indeed taken a lot from her mind.”

At the mention of Shar, Viconia became weak and pained, managing a weak retort: ​​"I don't miss your ugly face at all, Jahira. I willingly gave those memories to Ms. Shar..."

“Voluntary?” Jahira shook his head with pity. “I think it’s more like being tricked. I remember you and Chanem talking about your experiences when you first arrived on the surface. Being tricked by a true god is no different from being tricked by a farmer in Belgost, is it?”

After rejecting Lolth's faith in Menzoberranzan, Viconia came to the surface as a follower of Shar. She once thought she was embracing the darkness, but now it seems she is more like a plaything, a tool of the darkness, used and discarded by Shar after being molded into a young follower of Serenne, no different from a rag.

“Actually, I think you two are quite similar in some ways.” Ivy commented on the two Baldur’s Gate heroes from a hundred years ago. “Jashira is trapped in a body that is gradually losing its vitality and strength, while Viconia is trapped in a blind and empty soul. They are almost like twin sisters.”

"Pah!" Jashira spat at the corner of the wall, staring at Ivy with disgust. "Shadowheart actually thinks your mouth tastes like honey. I think it's practically rotting in drow poison!"

Jashira turned and left, her angry words squeezing through the crack in the prison gates before they closed: "You'd better be ready for that damned ritual before I find any clues about the witch's gathering!"

Ivy nodded in satisfaction. Although he had been scolded, at least Jahira had decided to perform the Eternal Body ritual, and he also learned that the High Harpist really hated being compared to the Drow elves.

He shifted his gaze back to Viconia: "Jahira has made up her mind, and what about you, Shar's follower?"

(End of this chapter)