Equipment Printing School Mage

Fifty-seven Swords of Death (V)

No one could have imagined that this matter would be settled so smoothly.

I guess both parties think that this matter is particularly profitable.

"I guess the priests of Kelemvor are about to pop their eyes out by now," said Mars.

"I don't care about their attitude." Emilia replied, "It's better to say, if someone is willing to take the initiative to be this person..."

The Sword of Death, which was supposed to be Kelemvor's sword, was now lying quietly on the deck of the airship, and Emiya was giving it a final inspection.

Of course, although the Sword of Death looks majestic... it is actually still a half-finished product.

More accurately, it's more like a newly completed elven sword, one that holds immense potential but has yet to be fully realized.

It is now a precious sword that can be loved by discerning swordsmen and can cut gold and jade in their hands... but that's where it ends.

The crafting of these swords holds a profound secret: these elven swords are able to draw strength over time, becoming stronger with each generation. Corellon remains tight-lipped about how this mechanism works.

Of course, there is a question now: If the Sword of Death is just an ordinary sword, then how did Kelemvor achieve such great power recently?

The answer, of course, was the intervention of the two former goddesses of magic. Kelemvor hadn't actually regained any extra power; his actions were merely attempts to attract the enemy's attention. He now possessed almost no supernatural powers.

This was one of the main reasons why Kelemvor was so harsh and untrusting of his priests: the so-called return of the God of Death was a complete deception. And the priests would never tolerate such deception from someone who wasn't a God of Death. In other words, the God of Death priests could rebel at any moment.

——Even before Kelemvor was exposed, they already hoped to be gentle.

Kelemvor had no expectations for them, and they were not part of the plan.

However, the Sword of Death is somewhat special. It is the only sword currently to have undergone a complete blessing ceremony. The so-called complete blessing ceremony means that it has the greatest growth potential while retaining the extremely demanding master recognition ceremony of the elven sword.

To try to possess it, but fail to gain recognition, is to die.

For this reason, Emiya even seriously advised Kelanwo not to use it as his weapon - Emiya himself could not be 100% sure that Kelanwo would not die because of it.

Whether they could create an opportunity for Kelemvor to legitimately give up the Sword of Death depended on the abilities of the Alliance of Gods and Non-Gods. However, Emya had confidence in them.

"Inspection complete. There shouldn't be any flaws revealed early." Emiya said with a sigh of relief. "...Everything will wait until tomorrow."

Everyone is very anxious.

Whether you are eager to win or eager to die will be revealed tomorrow.

"I'd better stay on deck." Mars knelt on the deck, holding the scabbarded Holy Avenger against his chest, his hands opening and closing repeatedly. After a long moment, he finally closed his eyes, his body trembling slightly. "I think I still need the wind of the Hazy Realm to calm my mind."

And Emiya also had something to do - he still needed to confirm the status of the Sword of Death with Yin one last time.

It could be the whistle for an attack, or the horn for a decisive battle. No exceptions could be made... preferably, a level of security so secure that even Elastrid couldn't make one.

However, before leaving, Emilia said, "I'm sorry."

Mars opened his eyes and asked in surprise, "Why? Because I have to be at the front tomorrow?"

Without needing Emiya to finish, Mars said to himself: "You don't regard me as a friend, or do you think I'm afraid of death?"

"Tomorrow's battle may be dangerous," said Emilia.

"Even the god of death will die. Death will always come. I only look forward to tomorrow." Mars said, "See you tomorrow. Let's stop here and don't provoke my murderous intent."

"See you tomorrow."

And below the deck, in the bedroom, Silver was carefully using silver fire to outline patterns on Elastri's armor, and Elastri looked completely troubled.

"Miss Silver," Alestria said uncomfortably, "I've been in this position for an hour."

"Can't today's pastors even last an hour?" Silver said without looking up.

"No, it's just that you're just letting me stand here without telling me what you're doing."

"I'm protecting you," Yin replied matter-of-factly. "I'm afraid you'll die in tomorrow's battle."

"Actually, I'm quite confident about tomorrow's battle," Alestria whispered. "Although Emya's decision was radical, her preparations were meticulous. I think your energy would be better spent protecting the City of Judgment."

"What does the City of Judgment have to do with me?" Yin replied with remarkable clarity. "My relationship with Jaeger is quite strained, though we haven't come to blows. None of the subsequent Death Gods have been to my liking. And now I've even transformed back into a Magic Goddess."

Elastrid didn't dare speak—their group was quite baffling: the warmest-hearted mage seemed indifferent, the most dazzling paladin was the most bloodthirsty. Clearly, he couldn't expect the earliest goddess of the magic web to be a messenger of justice.

She suddenly said, "What do you think of Emilia... No, I want to ask, who do you think will be the next Grim Reaper?"

"I don't care," Silver said.

"I'm worried. We've come all this way here. If we win a resounding victory..." Alestria said, "perhaps Emilia can become the God of Death?"

"..." Yin paused and narrowed his eyes slightly. "You'd better not let your imagination run wild. If a low-probability beneficial event occurs, then there's a high probability that someone on our team will inexplicably pay the price."

Elastrid shuddered suddenly.

"Don't die." Yin continued, lowering his head. "If anything happens to you and Fenwe, I will be highly suspected. So you can't die. And you are even more dangerous than Fenwe, because you are most likely to die in an inexplicable place... just like Tyche."

Elastrid fell silent.

The death of Tyche, the goddess of fate, was somewhat absurd - the luckiest and most unpredictable goddess died in such a hasty manner.

Legend has it that she saw a beautiful flower and mistakenly thought it was a gift from her lover Lathander as a token of reconciliation, so she put it on her body. However, this was a trap set by the god of decay. A god fell into an irreversible fate of death simply by wearing a rose.

"……Thanks?"

"You're welcome," Yin said seriously, "I sincerely hope you two do something stupid so I can take the opportunity to kill you both."

Elastrid could only cry without tears: "Please don't say such things so calmly..."

"There's no way. I don't understand the principles of Tyche's power. Tomorrow, you'll face the Benshaba Church. There are two possibilities—one is that the power of bad luck will be too strong, and luck will be concentrated on you alone, making you invincible on the battlefield. The other is that as the only remaining Tyche priest, you might absorb all the bad luck... So I'm very worried that you might actually die inexplicably on the battlefield.

"If you die, I will be too suspicious, so you can't die, at least don't die at the hands of others."

"……Thanks!?"

After a long while, Yin finally stopped moving, let out a long breath, and floated to the edge of the bed, letting out a heavy sigh: "My strength can only go this far. Time is a river that flows without return, and fate is a dark vortex under the ocean. I have done the best I can."

Before Elastrid could utter her third thank you, Yin suddenly and without warning burst out with an aura she had never seen before.

Yin stood up from the bed and said in an unusually arrogant and disgusted tone: "—You are finally here."

Even though she had been with Yin for a while, this was the first time she heard her express such clear and undisguised malice towards someone.

So much so that even though she was definitely not the target of this malicious intent, her whole body almost instantly went numb.

Then she realized it—they had a guest.

The bedroom door opened gently.

That was an... old man.

They had naturally met countless elderly people. In Elastrid's impression, the God-King Odin was the one who best fit her image of an elderly wise man.

The person who came was the one who least fit the impression of an old man that she had ever seen...

He was a giant, several meters tall, yet his proportions were as harmonious as those of a Seraphim or a divine incarnation. His beard and hair were pure white, yet neither age nor youth was evident in them. His features were ordinary and refined, neither attractive nor unattractive. He wore a black robe, dotted with millions of stars and moons, arranged in an imperceptible pattern that evoked a sense of beauty and harmony.

It was strange that his existence was almost directly imprinted in Elaster's mind, but it did not leave any characteristics worth remembering.

"I'm surprised, Demon Web," he said. His voice sounded like an ordinary middle-aged man, but the meaning behind it bombarded Alestria's mind directly. "I thought you wouldn't be reborn again."

"What are you doing here?" Yin said.

But she didn't make any attacking gestures.

Elastrid was surprised—Silver actually had such an acquaintance who was extremely hostile but not an enemy?

“Time belongs to no one,” he said, “but the responsibility of managing time is everlasting.”

“…I shouldn’t have agreed out of curiosity…!” Yin’s voice was filled with indignation.

“It doesn’t make sense to say that time is a river that flows forever,” he said. “And it’s not like you haven’t profited from it.”

"So what are you doing here?!" Yin said this, waving his hand impatiently. Then he was stunned and almost cursed, "You've been watching this the whole time?!"

"The Hazy Realm cannot remain ownerless forever." He said it very straightforwardly.

"Then why don't you just let Jaeger go back to work?!"

"He gave up, so he's not eligible. For whatever reason."

"Isn't it up to you to decide whether I'm qualified or not?" Yin said angrily.

"Perhaps, but Jaeger is not the exception."

"He doesn't want to be one, and it's not suitable for him."

"He's certainly unwilling, but it's perfectly appropriate." He, no, He, spoke quite seriously, "His sense of responsibility is heavier than you imagine. So heavy that it can easily overwhelm his own will."

"I just don't believe it." Yin said with a grin, "Is there no other responsible person in this world? Isn't Tyr capable of that?"

"The biggest difference between Tyr and Kelemvor is that Tyr can do exactly the same thing as Kelemvor, but he can do it in a way that makes it impossible for other gods to find fault. That's why Tyr can't be the one."

"It's incomprehensible." Yin said angrily, "Isn't Emilia more shameless? Doesn't he use his brain less often?"

"The difference between Tyr and Aimya is that Aimya is soft-hearted," He said coldly. "Aimya likes to show weakness beforehand, because only in this way can his enemies be motivated to fight. He probably knows that if the enemy shows weakness or even surrenders right away, he won't be able to kill them. But Tyr won't do that. If Tyr became the God of Death, he would ruthlessly use all kinds of flawless procedures to strangle evil to death. I don't want to see that."

"Ha!" Yin sneered, "Isn't he sure he can become the God of Death?"

"That's certainly not certain." He nodded in agreement. "Tomorrow, we'll find out."

Suddenly, He turned His head, looked outside the bedroom, and snapped His fingers: "It's a good sword."

Then, the figure disappeared without a trace.

The next second, Emilia knocked on the door: "Silver, Elaster, can I come in? I think the Sword of Death needs to be checked again."

Elastrid's mind hadn't recovered from the abrupt meeting yet, and she stammered, "...Um...um...Old man, could it be that...?"

"Just call him Old Man, Old Immortal, or Old Biden, it doesn't matter," Yin said. "When he doesn't want to attack you, you can curse him in the face without any harm. When he wants to kill you, it won't matter if you worship him day and night before."

Then, Yin took a deep breath and shouted to the outside of the door, "I've touched you! I've kissed you! I've done everything! Is there any point in knocking? Just come in!"

Fifty-eight Swords of Death (VI)

As dark clouds gathered over the Hazy Realm, night finally arrived on the material plane.

Archdruid Fenwë of the Fang Forest has been leading the circle out of the forest for some time.

At this moment, Elturgard pressed forward, attempting to put military pressure on Cormyr. The two sides engaged in a silent standoff. On the western front, they naturally began to counterattack as well.

And there is only one nemesis in Baldur's Gate.

Larloch, the great arcanist left by Netheril.

Now, Emiya has sent back news: Yin can confirm that Larloch has been in the Twilight Realm. The Warlock's Tomb, this evil lair, is now unprecedentedly empty.

However, Fenwe was not happy about this at all.

The less pressure she has, the more pressure Emiya has.

In her opinion, the combat power on their side was simply excessive!

The true strength of Larloch's army remains a mystery. Nearly six months have passed since the Battle of Candlekeep... more than enough time for Larloch to recover.

Therefore, Emya and the man named Grimnir estimated the remaining forces of Larloch to be all the low- and middle-end forces, and nearly one-third of the remaining liches.

This time, they couldn't just leisurely install hundreds of cannons on the city walls and turn all of Larok's power into ashes.

However, Emiya's goals are as greedy as ever.

Now, most of the Sharptooth Forest Ring has quietly arrived around the Warlock's Tomb, including the main force of Baldur's Gate spellcasters such as Aemon, Karkoros, and Master Craftsman Gutenberg.

And the most important ones are the Kings of Algorond, Simbu and Sirinsi.

This lineup was a bit too luxurious, and even Fenwe was not the only one who expressed dissatisfaction with Grimnir's power arrangement.

If Larloch was also there, it would be fine. To ensure that nothing could go wrong, it would be natural to mobilize such a force. But if Larloch was not there, why would it be necessary to mobilize such a force?

However, Emya and Grimnir were quite resolute in their attitude towards this matter. The so-called war was to use a small but elite force to hold back the enemy's main force, and then use an overwhelming force to break through the enemy's weak points.

Although Emilia and her group were almost isolated and helpless in the City of Judgment, they had the Wall of the Heartless as their support, which was enough to hold out for a while.

"If you're truly worried, then wipe out the enemy's accumulation in the material plane as quickly as possible," said the unusually frivolous and confident Grimnir. "With your mobility, if you can quickly conclude a battle, you'll definitely be able to support us in time. However, don't forget, Emya's expectation of you is not to defeat them, but to annihilate them completely."

Destroy Larloch, the great lich arcanist who has lived for thousands of years.

It's not about defeating them, but about completely destroying the thousands of years of heritage of these liches.

The goals of the plan seem as outrageous as its arrangements.

Fenwei covered his chest and adjusted his breathing.

An archdruid with a rich life experience has been living in fear every day since he met Emilia.