HPDBC Chapter 215, Section 214: The God of Heaven, Kills the Witch!
Chapter 215, Section 214: The God of Heaven, Kills the Witch!
Chapter 215, Section 214: The God of Heaven, Kills the Witch!
Helheim, a world shrouded in death and cold, where everything is tinged with black and white, as if even time itself has been stripped of its color.
however.
In this world where everything is either black or white, Ian still appears to have normal colors, which is obviously because Ian has not been affected by this world.
Although all life on this land has been stripped of its flesh and magic, turning into black and white, Ian—the young legendary wizard—still retains his normal senses.
His presence seemed particularly out of place in this desolate world.
Not only was her magic not stripped away, but her body still existed, and she didn't feel the slightest discomfort, which was in stark contrast to Merlin, who was already in a soul state.
It's no wonder Merlin was so surprised.
Anyone with a sound mind would probably realize that something is wrong.
"How is this possible?" Merlin murmured, unable to comprehend what he was seeing. He knew Helheim's rules well; any life that set foot here, regardless of strength, should abide by the world's rules.
"Forehead……"
Ian looked down at his hands. The cold wind of the underworld was howling, making him feel a slight chill, but it did not affect the sensitivity of his fingers.
"I don't know either." Ian blinked, feigning confusion. "I'm just a twelve-year-old wizard, still a child. What could I possibly know about Helheim?"
"Actually, these past few days have been the first time I've traveled far from home. At my age, I should be a little tyrant at school..." The little wizard was not innocent at all.
However, he was still telling the truth, his face sincere, though a hint of confusion lingered in his eyes. To be honest, Ian was genuinely bewildered; he truly knew nothing about this area.
after all.
This place may be Merlin's past, but it represents his future, full of unknowns. Ian can't even imagine why he created such an area.
Had he really died and built himself a tomb? Ian felt no unease, but his curiosity only grew stronger. He wasn't the kind of wizard who couldn't accept the end of life.
Death is just the beginning.
Ian believed this more than anyone else.
"You know how to open the door, but you don't know where this place is? Hmm? You really don't know?"
Merlin stared into Ian's eyes, trying to glean some clue from his expression. However, Ian's gaze was clear and sincere, without a trace of lying. Merlin's prophetic abilities also told him that Ian's words were indeed genuine. This immediately made Merlin's expression even more astonished.
"What a strange little fellow..." Merlin didn't press further, but gave Ian a deep look, a complex expression flashing in his eyes.
"Keep up."
He looked into the distance and started walking.
The "demigod" level wizard's movements became noticeably more cautious, his eyes constantly flashing with a faint light, clearly indicating that he was fully activating his prophetic abilities in an attempt to foresee potential dangers ahead.
In this place where legends are buried, even Merlin dared not be the slightest bit negligent or careless. Perhaps Merlin was stripped of his magic, but he was not stripped of his abilities.
Like Morgan, the embodiment of cognition is the authority of the soul. Of course, there is also a trace of special bloodline that makes Merlin's soul different from that of ordinary wizards.
Is there really treasure here?
Ian followed behind Merlin. It wasn't that he didn't believe in adventure stories; he just didn't believe in his own integrity. In his opinion, only a fool would do something like burying objects with the dead.
Wealth that isn't spent before death is not true wealth.
"Yes, I have solid information," Merlin replied, but didn't explain much. They continued along a winding path leading into the distance. The world around them was utterly silent; under the grey sky, the black earth showed no signs of life.
The deathly silence created an invisible sense of oppression, as if every step was a march towards an abyss. The bone-chilling wind made Merlin's soul appear even more transparent.
However, Ian only tightened his clothes, as if he were in a room with the air conditioning turned up too high. He kept following closely behind Merlin, observing his surroundings.
This clearly shows that Merlin is being used as a buffer against potential crises, and the person is trying to keep pace with Merlin and keep their body within Merlin's coverage area at all times.
There might be some dogs.
However, it can be described as entirely wise.
Merlin, the archmage, is undoubtedly the best defensive shield. There's no way around it; even Ian now, let alone his future self, could think of a thousand ways to prevent tomb raiding.
Ask yourself.
How could he not be careful and cautious?
"That's strange. We haven't encountered any traps or grave guardians." The more Ian followed Merlin forward without encountering any danger, the more uneasy he felt.
"Do you know anything?"
Merlin glanced back at the little wizard.
Ian looked around at the lifeless surroundings. "No, I'm just guessing. I think if it were me, I would definitely bury a thousand surprises in my grave."
His words startled Merlin slightly, and then his expression became strange, his gaze becoming more wary as he looked around.
"Indeed, it's too peaceful, completely different from what I expected. I thought I would encounter the Silent Mist Nightmare here, but I didn't even see the soul of a single animal." Merlin frowned, his tone grave. His hands were constantly forming some kind of hand seal, as if he could release magic at any moment.
"Silent Nightmare? What do you mean?" Ian raised an eyebrow curiously upon hearing the familiar term, having encountered such an eerie creature in Pompeii not long ago.
"I've learned some things. Medivh once commanded a goddess of fate and raised a swarm of Silent Mist Nightmares, but no one knows what he intended to do with them."
"I thought it was used to guard the tomb..." Merlin had clearly done a detailed study of the tomb and its owner, but it was obvious that he had discovered that his research and guesses might not be entirely correct.
"Um, is the 'control' you're talking about the same kind of control I understand? Is it serious?" Ian's focus was elsewhere, leaving Merlin speechless and unsure how to respond.
"Anyway, be careful." Merlin sighed, feeling that he and Ian had a communication barrier. Perhaps this was the kind of ideological incompatibility that people from two different eras had to face.
Why bother with gossip at a time like this?
"I've been very careful." Ian had been hiding in Merlin's shadow, constantly protecting himself along the way. He didn't know how much more careful he could be.
Just then.
The path ahead suddenly forked, revealing two completely different roads. One road remained entirely black and white, while the other faintly emitted a glimmer of colorful light, as if enticing them to proceed. Merlin stopped, his brow furrowed, as if hesitating, his eyes flickering with a glint of light.
One minute.
Two minutes.
five minutes.
Ten minutes... Merlin's prophetic abilities, though powerful, seemed to be somewhat limited here, and his expression grew increasingly solemn, clearly indicating that he hadn't foreseen much useful information.
What do you think?
He turned to the magical Ian for help.
"Which path do you think we should take?" Merlin asked tentatively. He had a feeling that Ian was hiding some information, so he thought that Ian might be able to help determine the right direction.
Ian glanced at the two roads and quickly weighed his options.
"I think both paths lead to a dead end... If it were me, I would definitely do the same thing," Ian said softly, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
"Forehead."
Merlin's expression became even more serious upon hearing this.
He clearly thought Ian had a point.
"I can't see the right direction." Despite Merlin's best efforts to use his prophetic abilities, he still sighed helplessly again after a while.
"Let me see..." Ian stepped forward, first observing the two seemingly endless roads, then he raised his wand with some hesitation and uncertainty.
All I saw was...
The little wizard waved his wand gently, and the next moment, the two paths that went in completely opposite directions gradually disappeared, and then a path that had not existed before appeared in front of him.
Black and white and colored lights danced and intertwined, converging to form a bridge of the correct colors, stretching as far as the eye could see, leading all the way to an unknown direction.
"Oh, what great luck! This is truly amazing."
Ian turned to look at Merlin with a surprised expression.
But he found Merlin staring intently at him.
"Yes, it's amazing." Merlin's eyes twitched uncontrollably, and his expression kept changing—he didn't believe it was any coincidence!
"Archmage, hurry, lead the way." Ian scratched his head awkwardly and walked back behind Merlin. This cautious move made Merlin sigh.
"Can't you muster a little courage?"
Despite his complaints, Merlin still took a step forward, and the two walked onto the suspended bridge, continuing forward, as the scenery behind them began to blur.
It was as if we had stepped into a deeper level of space.
"I'm a little afraid of heights."
Ian cautiously glanced down from the bridge; it was a bottomless darkness, but he could see countless shadowy figures moving about in the darkness beneath the bridge.
Those were… one Dementors after another. The cold wind continued to blow, and Ian gradually realized that the chill of this world might be related to the countless Dementors.
after all.
A Dementor is almost equivalent to a super-cooling air conditioner.
Did you see that?
He spoke to Merlin.
"Um."
Merlin was also observing the Dementors below. The dark world had no negative impact on legendary wizards, who could see the essence of things even in the absence of light.
"They didn't fly up to attack us." Ian could see the state of the Dementors; they were mostly in a semi-sleep state, wandering aimlessly in the darkness.
Each Dementor carries a stone tablet on its back, the meaning of which is unknown, and there are no words carved on it. It simply bends the Dementor's spine.
"I don't think this is Medivh's way of protecting his tomb. Dementors are just more troublesome creatures." Merlin shook his head and withdrew his gaze.
"Perhaps this isn't a tomb at all." Ian raised his hand, and snowflakes drifted down, landing on his hand and displaying an incomparably white color.
They melted continuously, yet left no water stains. Compared to snowflakes, these white spots perhaps resembled ashes, drifting from who knows where. They might have come from the same person, or from different people; they might have simply fallen from the human world.
Thinking about this...
Ian quickly wiped his hands on Merlin's robe and took an umbrella from his purse. He continued to follow Merlin.
The black and white tones gradually began to be tinged with other colors, but Merlin in his spirit form remained translucent white.
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"Huh?" Ian was still observing the Dementors under the bridge, pondering whether the new Azkaban was feasible, when suddenly he bumped into Merlin's back.
It turned out that Merlin had suddenly stopped.
"What's wrong?"
Ian looked up and, following Merlin's gaze, saw at the end of the bridge, in a pitch-black void, a palace floating in the sky.
The palace was magnificent and imposing, its massive stone pillars and spires appearing and disappearing in the darkness, like a sleeping behemoth. Shadows swirled around the palace like dark clouds.
The shadows sometimes gathered, sometimes dispersed, oppressive and heavy. Moreover, in front of the palace, through the gaps in the shadows, a throne was faintly visible.
There seemed to be a human-shaped figure sitting on it, but most of it was obscured by shadows.
"Is that Medivh?" Ian's expression turned serious. He frowned slightly, but he couldn't see clearly no matter how hard he tried, so he could only turn to look at Merlin.
however.
Merlin did not respond.
His gaze was fixed on the shadow in the sky.
"What's wrong, Archmage?" Ian noticed that Merlin's face was as pale as paper, with fine beads of sweat on his forehead, and his eyes showed an unprecedented solemnity.
This scene inevitably made the young wizard feel a little uneasy and anxious.
"What is that?"
Ian judged that Merlin was definitely frightened.
"Gurgle~"
Merlin could even be heard swallowing.
"You guessed right, Medivh did leave a surprise for the intruders, but it wasn't the kind of continuous traps we had originally anticipated."
"I think I know why we were able to get here so easily... There's absolutely no need for any other protective measures here!" Merlin's voice was hoarse and trembling.
"What do you mean!?"
Ian couldn't help but swallow hard, looking up at the magnificent palace once more. As they arrived, the shadows surrounding the palace began to churn violently.
The figure on the throne slowly opened his eyes.
"A gravedigger?"
Ian raised his wand.
But Merlin's hands were trembling.
"No, not a gravedigger, but... a god!"
Merlin tried his best to calm himself down.
He had never imagined that Medivh would leave behind his tomb guardians in this way. The body of a god, enslaved as a tomb guardian—this was far beyond his comprehension.
at this time.
The awakened figure stretched its neck, leaned forward, and its lifeless face emerged from the shadows. It was a zombie-like face, with withered skin, sunken eye sockets, and empty eyes that burned with a blood-red light, like two burning stars, filled with a tangible sense of oppression that sent chills down one's spine.
"Medivh! He actually enslaved a dead god!" Merlin looked up at the majestic being in the shadows, then turned to look at Ian beside him, who had already pointed his wand at the sky.
"What kind of god is it?" Ian gripped his wand tightly with both hands, his knuckles turning white from the force, not from fear, but from the intense emotions churning within him.
In the future, will I be this awesome?
"Ares, the God of War."
Merlin tried his best to calm himself down.
however.
His voice drew the attention of the figure on the throne.
The legendary demigod immediately felt an overwhelming and terrifying aura, as if Mount Tai were pressing down on him.
"We need to declare war on God, are you afraid?" Merlin braced himself against the pressure, looking at Ian with a solemn and serious voice.
Are you scared?
Ian countered with a question. He had expected Merlin to laugh it off, say some passionate words, and talk about bonds and friendship before charging forward.
however.
Unexpectedly.
"Aren't I afraid I'll ask you?"
Merlin simply shrugged.
He gave a heartfelt response, completely devoid of any airs of a grand mage.
"????"
The little wizard was completely bewildered.
This is so different from the Merlin in the biography.
Just as he was about to complain.
"If you encounter a god and do not worship him, you have already lost your destiny!"
The figure on the throne, his voice booming like thunder, slowly rose to his feet. His movements were stiff and slow, yet every action still carried a terrifying aura. The darkness around him seemed to thicken further with the appearance of this terrifying being, the shadows twisting wildly as if they had come to life.
Merlin immediately felt a sense of impending doom, and his magical aura surged wildly; he could indeed still cast spells. In contrast to Merlin's reaction, the young wizard froze instantly.
The body of Ares, the god of war, spoke in human language, but these words left Ian completely bewildered.
"Are our names on the Reincarnation Monument?"
He tentatively opened his mouth.
The mutilated face of Ares, the god of war, immediately turned to him. This dead body might not be thinking clearly; upon seeing Ian, he paused for a moment, his expression gradually becoming confused.
"This isn't what we agreed on... Medivh."
After a long while.
The imposing figure sat back down.
His eyes were fixed on Ian.
The sound that reverberated through heaven and earth seemed to contain an unbearable weight of life. Fortunately, Ian and Merlin were not ordinary people, so they were not destroyed and their souls were scattered.
"What did we agree on...?"
Ian was about to ask a question.
But I felt my cheeks burning.
It turned out that Merlin had already jumped eight feet away and was staring at him with an extremely interesting expression—the Wizard King's gaze was also very strange.
What did he call you?
The Wizard King's voice trembled even more violently than before.
He had considered that Ian was a descendant of Medivh, but... at this moment, Merlin felt a chill run down his spine and his scalp tingled like never before.
This left the great wizard with no choice but to think it over.
Considering all of the previous points.
Merlin had realized a very terrible problem—judging others by one's own standards, could he have been cursed by a witchcraft cult?
(End of this chapter)