From Hogwarts to Strixhaven.

Chapter 573 An ominous premonition

“Tell me, Jahira? Why is the Iron Throne, which was the center of Sarovok’s rule a hundred years ago, now located beneath the surface of the Grey Harbor?” Will tried to find something to talk about to make time pass faster.

The ambush and wait were always agonizing. The adventurers hid in a semi-abandoned house in the warehouse district. It originally belonged to the guild and was considered a bad asset of Nine-Fingered Keane.

Upon hearing that the Harpist and Jashira needed help, the Baldur's Gate crime boss generously offered his services, even arranging for the raiding party to enter through a tunnel several blocks away to avoid being detected by the Bane Order members guarding the warehouse.

“The history teacher Duke Ravengardgaard found for you isn’t very competent. This incident caused quite a stir in the city back then.” Jahira glanced through the window towards the warehouse. The Bane followers openly guarding the entrance were known as the Tyrant’s Fists, and their standard weapons were grotesque, hard-headed hammers. Jahira had previously warned everyone not to be easily harmed by these weapons, as they were evidence of the collusion between Gothash and Grand Duke Mammon of Hell. They were vicious iron weapons from the swamp of Minauros, and if one was killed by them, their soul would be dragged into Hell, becoming a tiny coin forged in flames and poisonous mist.

For some reason, Jahira felt that these Bene followers seemed very agitated.

“Will was expelled from Baldur’s Gate by Duke Ravengard before he could receive a complete court education.” The dark-skinned Duke’s advisor, Floric, who had also participated in the operation, was crouching on a dilapidated wooden crate. Since half of the house had collapsed, everyone could only huddle together awkwardly, trying to make room for their teammates. “It’s not that I failed in my duty as a court tutor.”

“Hey…Floric…” Will’s helpless reminder elicited some low laughter.

"This matter sparked extensive discussion in the council at the time, and everyone ultimately reached a consensus that the symbol of Salafok's brutal rule should be completely destroyed, and that the free and democratic Baldur's Gate did not need to rebuild or use this tyrant's palace." Floric pretended not to hear Will's reminder and solemnly recounted the whole story of the Iron Throne being sunk into the Grey Harbor. "Therefore, after the vote, the dukes spent a large sum of money to hire mages from Waterdeep to use a combined spell to completely lift the Iron Throne from the ground and then throw it into the Grey Harbor. It was because Baldur's Gate was willing to spend money to hire spellcasters that I came here to make a living. Who knew that the dark-skinned young man I met would become the future Grand Marshal Flamefist and High Duke of Baldur's Gate?"

"Quiet!" Jia Xila raised his hand to interrupt the discussion in the room, closed his eyes, and listened attentively.

Everyone held their breath, anticipating Jasila's gesture—she clenched her fist, then pointed forward with her palm: "It's time! Let's begin!"

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.

"Gulp... gulp..." A cloaked figure gently held a Bane's Tyrant Fist in his arms, his body twitching rhythmically with each swallow.

Crimson blood flowed down the neck of the Benedictine, quickly staining the yellowed collar a dark red.

The cloaked figure looked up and gasped for breath. The intense eating had reactivated her long-forgotten breathing instinct, and the heavy breathing caused the hood to slip off her head, revealing a face that was a mixture of the sinister and the delicate—belonging to a female half-elf vampire.

"Enough! Violet!" The vampire clone was about to bend down to eat again when her brother behind her stopped her. "We shouldn't indulge in this! Restraint is what makes every indulgence meaningful. Otherwise, you'll just sink into desire and become a monster!"

Seeing the white-haired half-elf shudder, Asdellen softened his tone, adopting his usual nonchalant attitude: "Besides, he's already dead, so he's no longer fresh food, right?"

“You’re right, Asdallen.” Violet wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with her sleeve. “He’s no longer fresh.”

"Good heavens... can't you use a different adjective?" Xie Nian frowned and pulled a dagger from an enemy's vest. "Your practice of treating humans as food reminds me of... roasted dwarf bellies... I went to great lengths to forget about them!"

The squad that raided the High Temple of Miracles was led by Evil Thoughts, and its main members were vampire offspring from Dusk Star City and the drow paladin Minsara.

As part of their covert operation, they chose to follow the old path of the Baal sect, digging a tunnel directly through the sewers into the Baal sect's stronghold in the upper city.

Compared to the grand Gond Faith Museum, the number of guards stationed here in Gotash is sparse, and constant patrols are needed to fill the blind spots in the defense zone.

This also led to the raiding squad's mission progressing very smoothly. Once the last gate was opened, the evil spirits could reach the place where they first met Gotash six months ago.

"Why did you leave one alive, Minsara?" the evil thought asked, tilting his head. "We don't need to find the key; I can easily pry this door open."

Minsara glanced coldly at the evil thought, threw the prisoner in her hand to the ground, and then silenced him with a kick to the chest: "I left this place here for the invention blueprints left by the Gonde believers. This hall is full of all kinds of mechanical creations, and there must be some inventions that Ivy and I can use in Twilight City. Like lubricant formulas or something."

"You really are diligent and caring towards the people," Xie Nian said, pulling out a lock-picking tool and subtly curling her lip. Mingsala's statement sounded career-oriented at first glance, but Xie Nian wouldn't omit the qualifier she used before "Twilight Star City." This dark-skinned bitch was here to provoke them!
However, as someone who shares the spoils of victory with Yingxin, Xie Nian doesn't need to respond to such a clumsy provocation. He can simply swallow the spoils of victory in bed, or be swallowed as a spoil of victory.

"Why are you taking so long this time?" Asdallen was getting impatient; the smell of blood in the air whetted his appetite. "Don't you usually finish in the blink of an eye?"

The wicked thought, interrupted from his reverie, secretly glared at the judge of Morning Star City, and with a slight increase in pressure, heard a crisp click from the door lock.

“It’s open.” Evil Thought pushed open the door and went in first. “We don’t have much time. We need to keep an eye on the situation in the High Hall and see if Ivy needs any support.”

Both buildings are located in the Temple District. The High Temple of Miracles of the Gonde followers and the High Hall of the Baldur's Gate Council are very close in a straight line. Almost every north-facing window can see the walls of the High Hall.

The area remains peaceful, with only Flamefist and Sentinel soldiers, as well as Gotash's Iron Guards patrolling near the city walls, showing no signs of a battle breaking out.

Evil thought was very clear: if Shadowheart's actions went smoothly, then the Iron Guardians, on whom Gotash relied to intimidate the entire city's residents, would soon defect and join the side of justice.

— "So... this is what you call the coordinator?"

Unlike the upper levels, which reek of engine oil and are filled with massive metal parts, the lower control center of the Steel Guardian foundry has a distinctly Mind Flayer style.

Thick, purplish-red flesh clung to the crisscrossing metal pipes, like a fleshy vine growing along a giant steel tree.

Streams of white steam billowed from the poorly sealed joints of the pipes, their deafening hissing echoing throughout the central structure. At the ends of these pipes were neatly arranged brass brain storage tanks, their pink brains rising and falling in a slightly turbid, translucent liquid, transmitting psionic commands from the mastermind to the steel guardians throughout Baldur's Gate.

The massive control console in front of Karak was connected to the largest sphere at the deepest part of the chamber, where the pipes connecting the brain storage tanks eventually converged. At least half of this underground chamber was used to house those seemingly endless and expensive metal contraptions.

“It’s a neural capacitor coordinator,” answered Karak’s question. He was Zander Thubin, the chief craftsman of the Gond followers and the principal designer of the Iron Guard.

Shadowheart sheathed the twin blades of light and darkness in her hands and slung the adamantite shield behind her back: "Are you sure that self-destruct code will really work?"

“Gotash used hostages to threaten us into working for him, but we’ve always sought ways to resist. I even paid the price of losing my eyesight for the underlying self-destruct logic of the Neural Capacitor Coordinator… It absolutely works, and it must work.” Xander Thubin’s hands were constantly typing something on the console. Even though he couldn’t see anything, his actions were unwavering. He had rehearsed the entire input process in his mind hundreds of times, ensuring there wouldn’t be any mistakes. “The self-destruct code will cause a fatal psionic feedback loop in the Neural Capacitor Coordinator… Simply put, it uses the mainframe’s own power to disrupt them, thereby overloading the entire device. These handcrafted objects were already somewhat unstable. If it weren’t for the superimposed flesh and blood structures reinforcing it, the entire Steel Guardian foundry would have been reduced to a pile of scrap metal long ago!”

Karak whistled: "Even with an exploding collar around your neck, you never gave up resisting? You're quite the tough nut to crack!"

“I’m not a pushover!” Zander Tobin roared angrily, whether at Karak or himself, it was unclear. “My only daughter, Oberia, has been taken hostage by them… I served Gotash against my conscience… My creations are harming innocent people in the city…”

"Don't worry, they'll definitely be rescued by now!" Karak put his hand on the dwarf craftsman's shoulder, and the abnormal body temperature from the dragon heart made Zander Tubin shiver.

“I suspect Oberia was killed long ago… and so were the other hostages… otherwise, there’s no way to explain where Gotash’s men got so many fresh brains…” Zander Thubin shook off Karak’s hand and continued his work. “Anyway, I just need an excuse to rebel against the tyrant, and I don’t really expect Oberia to still be alive…”

“But you must promise me…” Zander Thubin tilted his head. The undead creatures emanating a chilling aura in the center of the hall filled him with dread. His loss of sight allowed his brain to focus more on his other senses, so the moment the Iron Guardians turned against him, he stepped forward to call on all Gond followers to begin their resistance. “You must use the Iron Guardians to completely destroy Gothash’s evil rule over Baldur’s Gate!”

“We’re already doing this.” Shadowheart looked at the Iron Titan in front of her. It was an upgraded version of the Iron Guardians, with a four-legged design similar to the Shadow Destroyer. However, the Iron Titan’s weapons were still all driven by Infernal Engines and gear transmission, unlike the Adamantite Golem which was mainly powered by magic.

“Once we’ve sorted everything out, you can come with us to witness the fall of the Gortash regime,” Shadowheart said, lowering her hand from the shield on the Iron Titan’s leg and turning to face it.

Since the material used to build the Steel Titan was not the indestructible adamantite, the designers of this machine added four heavy metal shields to the legs as armor to protect the most vulnerable joints.

Unfortunately, no amount of protection could stop the scepter of the undead from controlling the zombies inside. With a glare from Smaug's withered eyes, the giant metal creation that had just appeared slipped away and defected to the enemy, completely failing to serve as the final line of defense for the Iron Guardian Foundry.

“Thank you…” Zander Thubin seemed to have completed the final step. “Your control over the Iron Guardians comes from necromancy, right?”

“That’s right.” The Mummy Lord’s sinister voice echoed in the control hub. “Creating these steel soldiers is undoubtedly a brilliant idea, integrating various technologies and resources to create such an inexpensive elite force. However, the more links there are, the greater the possibility of errors. Powerful necromancy can bypass the mind flayer’s psionic network and directly control the actions of these steel soldiers. You should equip them with some anti-magic components.”

“That would skyrocket costs, and psionic energy and magic can interfere with each other. Anti-magic components will also counter psionic energy, although the effect won’t be as good…” Zander Thubin paused his discussion with the Mummy Lord about technical ideas. “Anyway, I just want to confirm that turning off the neural capacitor coordinator won’t affect your control of the Iron Guard, right?”

“Of course!” the Mummy Lord Carion answered proudly, “Until the souls within the Purgatory Engine are exhausted, all their actions are controlled by this scepter!”

“Very good,” Zander Tobin turned to Karak, whom he perceived as an unusually warm humanoid silhouette. “Please turn on the valve beside you, madam. It’s the cerebrospinal fluid valve… These brains have suffered for far too long, and I don’t want the psionic feedback loop to harm them one last time…”

As Karak turned the almost rusted metal valve, the brain storage tanks neatly arranged on the wall quickly emptied of their liquid. Without nutrient supply, the brains would completely lose their function in a very short time. However, the cerebrospinal fluid in the brain storage tanks also served as a medium for the physical exchange of psionic energy. Although it could not be completely eliminated, it could at least greatly reduce the brains' perception of the psionic feedback cycle.

Just before Zander Thubin made up his mind to press the last button, the iron gate of the control hub opened once again.

An angel shrouded in silver armor walked in. She turned her head away as much as possible to keep the Mummy Lord out of her sight and said to Shadowheart, "Jahira has landed at the dock with all the hostages and is on our side."

Gotash positioned the prisoner transport dock opposite the Iron Guardian foundry to significantly slow the invaders' advance, preventing them from launching simultaneous attacks on two key locations. If the hostages were rescued first, the foundry's artisans would likely perish, and vice versa.

"They reportedly encountered almost no significant resistance, with only the trap the devil set on Duke Ravengard causing a little trouble." Eileen's expression was serious; her paladin's intuition sensed something was amiss. "This isn't right... our operation has been going too smoothly..."

“Obelia!” Zander Thubin fell off the platform, reaching out towards Eileen. “Gotash’s hostage! Obelia Thubin! My daughter! Is she still alive?”

“Are you Zander Thubin?” Eileen countered. “The Gond believers outside are almost all celebrating reunion and new life, but only one daughter asked me about her father’s whereabouts, so I remember her well. Yes, she is still alive.”

“Great…this is wonderful…” Snot and tears mixed with blood streamed down Zander Tobin’s face as he struggled to sit up, pointing to a button on the control panel. “Press it! Let’s end Gotash’s evil rule!”

(End of this chapter)