Azure Scepter

Page 83

Trier was also surprised; he didn't understand why Neu suddenly pulled Feudia's hair.

“Nothing.” Noi smiled. “It looks much better now. Don’t interrupt me next time, dear Futia.”

She turned her head slightly to look at the equally dumbfounded princess: "Your Highness, shall we go inside and take a look at the tomb? Should I continue to explain the history of the Roland family tomb?"

"I...this isn't my first time here." The princess instinctively took two steps back. "I'm just curious about one thing..."

Before the princess could finish speaking, Noy chuckled and said, "Are you curious about the inscription on the side of the ice coffin at the deepest part of the tomb?"

“Count Cohen said those inscriptions were meaningless symbols from ancient times, while Granny Laur told me it was a private language that no one had ever deciphered since its inception.” Edith’s eyes gleamed with hope and expectation. “Trier, is that really true?”

Trier did not answer immediately, because he suddenly remembered what the crowd had just said about "the clues about the relationship between Lorraine and Saint Sel located deep in the tomb"—if it was not a coincidence, then the clues He was referring to should be the inscriptions on the ice coffin.

With this thought in mind, the time traveler replied, "We'll find out once we go in and take a look."

Footsteps echoed in the dark corridors of the tomb.

"Tick."

A drop of yellowish blood seeped from the ceiling and landed on Trier's boot.

He stopped and looked around.

Due to the strong aftershocks of the battle between Edith and the Balrog, a large area of ​​the tomb hidden deep inside the mountain collapsed. The rocks overhead were melted into magma by the Balrog's high temperature, and then solidified again into a plaster-like gray solid under the cold rain. The entire outer side of the tomb was a mess.

However, the main part of the tomb is quite well preserved.

Edith put her hood back on, and she held the brass buttons at the collar of her cloak, looking quite solemn and serene.

"We're almost at the main part of the tomb," Noy said softly. "Your Highness, Futia, please keep quiet."

She held the holy symbol in her hand, and white specks of light from the Light spell swirled around her like fireflies, dispelling some of the darkness.

The magnificent Corinthian columns stand on either side like silent, towering giants, stretching silently into the darkness like pilgrims, while above them rise a towering dome and ceiling frescoes nearly 70 meters high. Under the white beams of light, specks of gray dust sway among the shadows of the columns in the crypt's main hall.

The deathly silence of the tomb combined with the solemnity brought by its inhuman scale created a chilling, serious, and gloomy atmosphere that seemed to permeate every shadow and corner. Any sound that was heard was immediately swallowed up by the immense scale.

"This is a tomb?" Fythia asked in surprise, "This scale..."

“Yes, this is the tomb. But to be precise, this is the tranquil sanctuary at the front of the tomb. Before Losewey conquered the Dark Lands, the prevailing belief here was not the Radiance.” Bound Spirit Noi led the way. “According to the ancient traditions of this place, after passing through the twelve domed gates in the mortal world, the soul of the dead will gain enough courage and strength to traverse the post-apocalyptic wasteland.”

"Is that a superstition?" The elf looked around, seemingly shocked by the sight before him.

Noi was silent for a moment, then replied, "It's not superstition. Spirits do indeed gain enhancement after passing through the twelve-layered dome gate. It's a kind of... ritual, which should be directed at certain beings in the dream world."

“Heh, you know quite a lot about spirit binding.” A low, cold laugh echoed in Trier’s mind. “However, I’m quite curious whether you can decipher the inscriptions on the ice coffin.”

Trier ignored the crowd and walked quietly behind Fythia.

The chilling smell of dust grew stronger, and soon the group passed through the magnificent and vast silent hall, through a door made of mithril, where the enormous, inhuman scale suddenly became normal.

Sixty magical crystal lamps hang on both sides, and stone sculptures of the rulers of the Southern Duchy throughout the ages sit on either side in chronological order. Behind the lifelike stone sculptures are stone coffins containing the remains.

The statues sat side by side, their eyeless stone eyes silently gazing down the corridor. The shadows cast in their eye sockets by the refraction of light seemed to be watching the whispers of the living.

Suddenly, Trier felt a familiar tremor—he sensed the presence of undead under his control in several deep coffins, and they all seemed to be high-ranking undead.

Chapter 167 Family Cemetery (Part 3)

Theoretically speaking, the older the deceased, the more powerful the fragments of their immortal essence remain. Therefore, the aura of high-ranking undead is mainly concentrated deep within tombs.

Sensing the familiar aura of the dead, Trier couldn't help but think to himself: This is too filial.

He looked up at the others.

Edith stood solemnly, her posture upright, walking slowly down the desolate passageway between the statues. Her pure white cloak swept across the gray-black stone slabs, stirring up dust in the breeze. As she passed the statue of "Orc Impaler" Drago, she slowly removed her hood, her gray hair cascading down like a waterfall, and then she bowed with utmost solemnity.

Noi then extinguished her light-dancing spell, bowing her head and offering a silent prayer for the deceased in the standard clergy posture. Infected by the solemn atmosphere, even Faldia, an elf, awkwardly followed suit and performed a respectful bow.

Trier simply nodded slightly to the group of statues nearby, then quickly walked past the stone coffins lined up side by side.

Upon seeing the person her close friend was bowing to, Edith's brow twitched. She whispered to Fythia, "Fythia, that's Draf the Pointy-Eared Collector. When he was the Duke of the South, he captured and slaughtered almost all the elves and half-elves in his territory."

"This is too cruel." Fythia was startled. She subconsciously touched her pointed ears, then immediately moved away from the statue of "Pointed Ear Collector" Draf, who looked rather cold and brutal. "Why would he do this?"

“It is said that a half-elf bard eloped with his only daughter,” Edith said. “It’s similar to the love story in ‘The Drunken Moon,’ but unlike the play, the real ending was bloody and cold. The bard and the duke’s daughter were both executed by the duke—Fodia, look, there’s a statue of his executed daughter right next to Draf.”

“Serves her right.” Noy said coldly. “According to historical records, this lady who pursued love had a fiancé. She broke her engagement and betrayed her family’s honor. She deserved to die.”

"I thought the nuns of the Radiant Church were all about forgiveness and love as virtues," Futia teased in a low voice. "Don't tell me you have a fiancé too?"

"Fodia!" the princess whispered, "Stop talking nonsense. This solemn occasion is not for you to quarrel."

“I used to have one.” Taking advantage of Fydia’s slowed reaction time due to her serious injury, Noi reached out and ruffled her hair again. “It was Trier.”

Futia was completely dumbfounded; she didn't even resist when her hair was messed up.

After a long pause, she asked in a very soft voice, "So, you were jilted?"

“Of course not,” Noy said expressionlessly. “My father suddenly asked me to join the church before he died, so my marriage was naturally called off—Your Highness, are you engaged?”

Edith shook her head, giving a polite and reserved smile: "Of course not, but perhaps after the blood plague crisis is over, my father will arrange a marriage for me."

Futia silently let out a long sigh of relief.

Trier paid no attention to the little argument behind him, and continued walking past one silent sarcophagus and stone statue after another.

"The Builder" Royce, "The Blue Hand" Garth, "The Blood-Red Skirt" Irina...

The time traveler's dull footsteps echoed rhythmically through the tomb, their intervals as precise as the balance wheel of a mechanical clock. With each resounding footstep, the cold, decaying stench grew ever stronger.

Finally, Trier reached the end of the tomb, then stopped and looked up at the deepest ice coffin.

The ice coffin stood like a throne at the end of the tomb, flanked by stone statues wearing laurel wreaths and holding scepters, which stood like guards. The visible snow-white chill and the azure magical light emanating from the inscriptions on the sides surrounded the coffin like a cloak.

For some reason, the magic lamps here burned extremely brightly, and even the slightest air currents felt like sharp knives cutting through people.

The corpse in the ice coffin was not a ghost manipulated by Trier. The traveler took a deep breath and observed the corpse in the coffin through the translucent ice crystals.

The ice coffin was filled with withered red roses, their fallen petals and withered branches resembling an exquisitely crafted mattress. Perhaps due to magic, or perhaps due to the low temperature, the deceased, nestled among the petals, had not decomposed. Its skin was snow-white, its complexion rosy, and even its long blue hair retained a moist sheen, as if it had not died, but had merely taken a brief rest on a breezy afternoon.

Trier narrowed his eyes slightly. The corpse looked very much like Princess Edith, with almost 60% resemblance in their features.

“Isn’t it amazing—it’s from almost a thousand years ago.” Suddenly, the princess’s voice rang out behind Trier. “Every time I look into its eyes, I feel like I’m looking in a mirror.”

The time traveler slowly turned around and looked at Edith, who then gave him a sincere smile.

“She was the eldest daughter of my ancestor, the conqueror Lothaway, and she married your ancestor.”

Edith slowly walked past Trier and came to the ice coffin. She slowly knelt down and reached out to gently stroke the inscriptions beside the coffin that emitted a deep blue magical light. The icy chill felt like a knife piercing Trier's eyes.

“Even the wisest and most learned Granny Lor in the entire kingdom doesn’t know the meaning of these inscriptions.” The princess sighed softly, then raised her head, her emerald eyes filled with anticipation. “Trill, do you know the meaning of these inscriptions? This question has been troubling me for a long time.”

Trier walked closer to the ice coffin and looked down at the magical inscriptions.

Chapter 168 Family Cemetery (Part 4)

Gazing at the inscriptions on the ice coffin that shimmered with icy blue magical light, Trier subconsciously recalled his knowledge of magical languages.

—Without a doubt, the inscriptions on the ice coffin are a magical language.

In the game "Azure Scepter", every ancient being with a long enough lifespan knows that language and magic were originally the same thing. They both exist in the gap between the dream world and the mortal world, expressing both their own supernatural nature and the material rules of the outside world.

However, as time progressed and the number of beings who mastered language gradually increased, language itself gradually lost its supernatural essence, and even gradually lost its life in the process of continuous dissemination. Today, only a few languages ​​in the world still have the ability to directly summon and restrain the winds of magic, and the few remaining users of magical languages ​​have also strictly sealed off the teaching of the language itself.

It can be said that all knowledge about the language of magic is a closely guarded secret, and even ordinary legendary mages may not know it.

However, as a demigod lich once known for his extensive knowledge, Trill mastered almost all magical languages, including the fairy language of the dream world, the dragon language of the Polkend, and even the language of the thinking mountains, which existed long before the elves walked on the earth.

But at this moment, Trier frowned deeply.

The inscription on the ice coffin looked extremely unfamiliar. The tadpole-shaped characters seemed to writhe and twist as if they were alive, and the icy chill, like tentacles, crawled up his eyes along his line of sight.

He didn't even recognize the inscription on the ice coffin...

“Ha, pathetic mortal, the opportunity is right in front of you, but unfortunately, you are illiterate.” The low sneer of the crowd echoed in Trier’s mind. “However, you still have one chance—release me, and I will teach you this incomparably powerful language.”

"Mastering this language will allow you to destroy towers with a single syllable, burn mountains with a melodious chant, and freeze the sea with a mournful lament. Haha, this noble language is far more profound and powerful than crude arcane arts or magic."

The time traveler remained silent. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly shifted his attention to the stinging sensation caused by the cold air seeping into his nasal cavity, gradually clearing his mind.

Open your eyes.

He focused his gaze again, his eyes quickly scanning the inscriptions on the ice coffin. The next moment, guided by his intuition, he found a familiar, symmetrical, arc-shaped character.

"I see," Trier thought to himself.

“Trier, have you found anything?” Edith asked curiously.

Trier drew his longsword, slightly tilting the blade. The magical inscriptions on the ice coffin were reflected on the mirror-like blade, and a chilling aura clung to it: "This is a magical language of the dream world."

"Ha, you're really clever, you even knew it was magical language." The crowd continued to mock them deliberately.

—The Lord is known in the dream world for his skill in deception. His words are rarely born of pure arrogance. His constant provocations at this moment are not merely to vent his dissatisfaction at being provoked by Trier.

To be fair, He wasn't quite sure if Trier could decipher the inscription on the ice coffin—everyone knew very well that if Trier could indeed decipher the inscription, then His current act of jumping up and down would make Him look very ridiculous, like a jester in a human court. However, He could also use this opportunity to probe the other party's origins.

Everyone knows that the number of mortals in the Prime Material Plane who know the language of Tisla is extremely limited, no more than 50. Furthermore, a language like Tisla, which possesses its own life, must be taught personally by beings from the Dream Realm, and those who have learned it cannot directly teach it to others.

Therefore, if Trier really does speak the language of the fairies, then He can further pinpoint who taught Trier this language, and thus He can vaguely know whether this strange and incomprehensible paladin is an angel with a special mission, a possessed demon, or some other random thing.

Although He had always been known for his mischievousness and quick wit, at this moment, He knew very well that Trier, who controlled the statue, was far more cunning, treacherous, and scheming than He himself.

In a situation where information about the enemy is completely opaque, it's harmless to do some clownish things, because being ridiculed is nothing; the key is to obtain more information about the enemy.

“The dream world and the mirror are closely related,” the transmigrator said softly. “The inscription on the ice coffin is in the language of the Tisla fairy, but it has been mirrored and symmetrical.”

The low laughter of the crowd abruptly stopped.

"Tesla fairy language?" Edith looked up at Trier, her eyes filled with confusion, seemingly immersed in a mixture of joy and bewilderment.

Trier nodded slightly, looking at the inscription reflected on the blade, and said in a low voice, "Tesla fairy language, also known as nymphal language—although it is called nymphal language, not every nymph knows it. This language is only used in the writing of nymphal songs. The difference between it and ordinary nymphal language can be compared to the relationship between ancient human written language and contemporary human slang and colloquialisms."

"How did you know?" the princess asked, looking bewildered.

“Of course it’s the revelation of radiance.” Trier looked directly into Edith’s beautiful green eyes, his expression solemn, and reached out to help the other up. “I think Lord Oris should also know this.”

"Master, you really don't miss any opportunity to sow discord..." Noi's grumbling echoed in Trier's mind.

The time traveler remained unfazed and continued, "If Lord Oris insists that he doesn't know, then perhaps he has other considerations."

“Uh, Trier, so what exactly is written on it?” Fythia’s pointed ears twitched as she asked with curiosity.

Trier paused for a moment, then looked at the inscription reflected on the blade and whispered in the common language of humans: "I, along with the eldest daughter of my beloved Losevie, lie here, cursing her treacherous and greedy lover, Sel—the year the stars fell, March 12th, inscribed by Fusada at the Crystal Wishing Well."

The next moment, Trier whispered "Turn the page" in Tisla fairy language.

As Trier whispered, the inscriptions on the ice coffin twisted and rearranged in an instant, and a few moments later, a new line of text appeared on the ice coffin.

"The walls of my dwelling, hear my vow, be my witness."

"I, Fusada, swear to avenge my eldest daughter, to save my beloved Losevie, and to kill my enemy, Sel, never to forget!"

Chapter 169 Ethical Drama

Trier's words seemed to have a silent effect, plunging the entire tomb into a deathly silence, even the transmigrator himself fell into a deep silence.

The amount of information in the inscriptions on the ice coffin is simply too much.

Staring at the dark blue inscriptions reflected on the blade, the transmigrator's well-trained brain began to work at lightning speed.

First, the "Fusada" who inscribed the text on the ice coffin in the Tisla fairy language should be Fusada, the water fairy who was Losevie's lover. This water fairy had successfully tricked the demigods of the Dream Realm with a prank.

Based on the hints given by the crowd before entering the tomb, the "Sael" in "cursing her treacherous, greedy lover Sael" should refer to Saint Sael, the newly ascended deity of the Radiant Church.

In other words, Saint Sel was in love with Lothaway's eldest daughter before he ascended to godhood, but what exactly does the inscription mean by "betrayal"?

Trier took a deep breath, and with the help of inspiration, he suddenly recalled a hidden message.

The timeline of Saint Celden's existence largely overlaps with the period when Losevie was active!

This is very interesting information, because given Lorse's strength, prestige, and the strength of her allies, if she wanted to pursue a longer lifespan, becoming a god would obviously be a much better option than becoming a lich.

However, Lorraine did not become a god in the end, while Saint Seir, who was unknown before becoming a god, eventually became a god. Considering the overlapping periods of their activities and the inscriptions in the tomb, a cliché and obvious answer emerges.

Saint-Sel was very likely once Laurence's son-in-law, and he took advantage of this close relationship to stab Laurence in the back when she was plotting to become a god, and then took her place.

This hypothesis can be corroborated by the famous religious story "Saint Seir and the Nymph". The mortal knight Saint Seir, the queen, the laughing dragon, the succubus lord, and the nymph fairy in the mysterious silver lake, etc., can all be found to have accurate historical prototypes!

The Queen refers to Loseweg, the Laughing Dragon is Aurelius, the Nymph Fairy in the Mysterious Silver Lake is the Water Fairy Queen Fusada, and the Succubus Lord in the Abyss is Lady Bloodthorn.

Trier wanted to ask the people who had experienced it firsthand to confirm his guess, but before he could even speak in his mind, the people spoke up on their own.

“Trill, you are indeed learned—learned to an excessive degree.” The sage said slowly, his tone unusually serious. “Let’s be frank. I know you are no ordinary mortal. Mortals could never speak the language of the Tisla fairy. Who exactly are you, my old acquaintance in the Dream Realm?”