Shoutout to reviewers - especially Cipher. I'm impressed you can read that fast lmao. Note there are chapter summaries every 25 chapters.
Much love and kisses.
Armour: Brimflame
Weapon: Winter's Fury(Unusable), Stormfront Razor
Acc(11/11): The Bee, Celestial cuffs, Mana Flower, Sorcerer Emblem, Cryo Wings, Ankh Shield, Deific Amulet, FrostSpark Boots, Grand Gelatin, Permafrost's Concotion, Evasion Scarf. (Unlimited Buffs)
Health: (500/500)
I don't think I've ever felt like this before.
It's a very odd feeling, like a cold gnawing poison spreading in my veins. It chews at my heart. Its a worm in my brain. Anxiety. Stress. Worry... and not for my own well being (I've bemoaned myself ad nauseum) but for that of another.
The Tyrant Yharim... who can stand before that power? What will The Archmage do?!
I thought I was strong. Indeed, before Braelor humiliated me, I thought I was the strongest being to step foot on this earth. Clearly I haven't seen true power. Had I not fled in that moment - who knows what The Tyrant would have done to me?! I tremble at the thought and cast the terrifying possibilities from my mind. Now, my eyes have seen my enemy.
And what an enemy he is...
The Archmage knows of The Tyrant. When I described my encounter, the look on his face was akin to the gazes of enemy peons as they bore witness to my power. What will happen to him if... when Yharim finds him? What will become of the only person in this world to show me warmth and kindness? The one who opened his home that I might call it my home. The one who bound my wounds and lifted me up when I could do nothing to stand. My heart aches. My mind is in tumult ... what will happen? What can I do?
Can The Archmage survive?
Once more, I bury the dark thoughts and begin marching towards the looming structure afore me. The sun is hot here, beating down relentlessly on my darkened armour. My boots crunch heavily as I walk along the sea's jagged cliffs. The air stings like nettles. It stings my eyes. It stings my lungs. The air tastes sour, like rot that has turned to dust. The sealine is devoid of life. None of the beach-creatures I read about are present here... only craggy, deformed tortoises, strange glowing insects and vicious burrowing crocodiles which lunge at me from beneath the soil. I've already killed several. The water stretches out before me until it folds over the horizon - endless and wide. Along the coast, the water is of an odd lurid green. It spews froth and bubbles filled with airborne radiation. I made the mistake of touching one, and I can see my flesh glow from between my armour plates.
It's dangerous here... more dangerous than the corruption...
I make haste. The dungeon's greenish bricks are ahead, standing like a grotesque monolith against the craggy coast. I can feel the suffering from the cursed building. How many have been killed in the depths of that place? Had The Tyrant captured me, would I be consigned to the Dungeon? What of The Archmage? And what of The Cultist, who has made such a place his home? What kind of man is my parent that his gruesome work is done amidst such vile death?
How odd.
These strange thoughts.
Has hardship softened me?
Had I not slain thousands without even the hint of guilt shadowing my consciousness? Was I not the breaker of armies, raining hellfire against all that dare stand against me? At one time, I had considered all men to be grass. As worthless livestock, insects that populate the earth. When I was young, I was pompous and proud. My pride blinded from the danger; my ignorance made me idiotic. My ego counted everyone to be beneath me, and now - having been crushed by those I sneered down on... only now do I see clearly.
My enemy is great.
And I must struggle to preserve what few precious things I have.
I will fetch the documents The Archmage requires of me, and then... then-
*rumble*
I freeze and instinctively draw my weapon as the ground lurches violently beneath my feet, nearly throwing me in the air in the blast of sand and dirt. Filthy water splashes against my armour and begins to steam as the acid eats into the metal plates. A shadow passes beneath the waves, barely perceptible for how opaque the water is... but it's certainly there. There's something tremendous lurking beneath the water... some horrible rotting thing, as wide as the dungeon is tall.
The ground settles. The world goes still... but I don't allow myself to relax. I clench my teeth and clutch my weapon until my knuckles ache. The vicious creatures of this craggy shore have fled to their burrows, not daring to show themselves to the monstrosity from the depths. The land chitters. A slow, alien noise of shifting, hunger and excitement.
I feel beady hate-filled eyes glaring at me from beneath the waves.
The Apex Predator of The Sulfurous Sea.
I know it sees me.
And I know this is an enemy I cannot flee.
I prepare for battle.
"My my, what a surprise."
The Archmage propped up his feet and puffed snowflakes from his pipe. He was careful to give off the aura that he was in control - but remained watchful nevertheless. Just a moment ago, he had been interrupted whilst preparing to move his castle far away from The Resistance Headquarters. He didn't know exactly how Yharim might find him (having been trapped by Yharim for a hundred years, who knows what sort of things those cretins had done to him), but it was folly to underestimate The Tyrant. His strength, magic and technology were unmatched. The only way to survive The Tyrant was to go unnoticed...
But he found the boy... and that means he'll come find me soon.
And although The Archmage was not particularly friendly with the current Resistance brass, he was not so petty that he would put them at risk of discovery. He disliked The Sea King, but he hated The Tyrant more. So when The Sea King's convoy marched their way into his foyer, he didn't attack them. Besides, aggression was not the best way to deal with The Sea King. Amidas was wily and wielded powerful eldritch magic. Even for him, it was dangerous to face that old seadragon in a battle of brute force.
Instead, The Archmage curled his lip and attacked with scathing sarcasm.
"I suppose I should be honored that you would grace me with your presence, O King of the Sunken Sea. To whom do I owe the occasion?"
"Must we engage in this tiresome game, Archmage?"
Amidas's reptilian snarl echoed off the crystal walls and caused the ice to tremble with an otherworldly power. The creature himself looked rather unhappy to be here - not only was his flesh rippling in the cold, but his long serpentine tail had become stuck to the icy floor - the same way a tongue became stuck to a frozen lampstand. Of course, The Archmage had intentionally lowered the temperature to achieve this effect, but nevertheless feigned ignorance.
"Game? Oh dear" The old man shook his head in mock disappointment before making his voice deadly serious. "I'm not the one playing games, Amidas. Tell me, what sort of idiotic decisions have you presided over such that The Resistance Hero has fled The Resistance in tears?"
*crack, crack...*
There was a horrendous sucking noise as The Sea King raised his spines and peeled himself off the icy floor. His scales ripped and cracked as they were torn violently from the ground. He was making his anger obvious, and his troops - taking his cue - readied their weapons.
The Sea King flared his nostrils and crossed his arms across his gleaming breastplate. He hissed a response.
"I am not here to answer your questions, Archmage. I am here that you answer mine. Tell me, why do you stand in opposition against us? Has a hundred years in Yharim's prison addled your mind? Have you fallen in thrall to The Tyrant?! You know how essential The Hero is to our cause - and it is fairly obvious you are the one hiding him from us. Now I arrive to see you preparing to flee? Your behavior is suspicious indeed, Archmage. If not for your reputation, you would have already been executed for treason."
The Archmage scoffed once more, albeit more nervously this time. Did The Sea King mean to detain him at such a crucial time? He knew he could not argue his way out of this, Amidas would not believe a word he said - especially if he made a fuss about The Tyrant discovering him. What was he supposed to say? 'Allow me to flee, otherwise The Tyrant will discover your location'? Such truths were simply too unbelievable. The Archmage thought best not to mention it specifically.
"Treason? Me? What nonsense. I am not loyal to you, Amidas. I've fought The Tyrant for years, and always apart from The Resistance proper. You are well aware that I despise your methods, and am only your friend because we share an enemy. I will do as I please, just as I always have. Begone Sea King, I have matters to attend to."
"Do you?"
The guards stepped forward, their weapons extended but their limbs shaking in the bitter cold. If The Archmage wished to, he could easily freeze their blood - but such an escalation would result in a battle with The Sea King. Amidas's voice became guttural.
"We have always tolerated our partners doing as they please... but as it stands, you have not only kidnapped Our Hero, but have sent him to scurry about and kill Resistance assets. Whatever matters you have to attend to, I suggest you put them on hold. Instead, fill your time preparing to defend yourself in martial court. An explosive perimeter has been established around your castle. Be well, Archmage."
Should one fly across over the isthmus to the continent's southeast, they would find the landscape to be exceedingly strange. Yes, naturally Crimson land was quite odd to look at, covered in fleshy blobs and spewing forth all sorts of disgusting fluid and fetid gasses... but given The Crimson had existed for time immemorial, no learned mapmaker would be particularly surprised at its spread.
In fact, the oddity was not The Crimson, but rather the little patch of uncorrupted land amongst a sea of scarlet rot. It was perfectly round, a large circle of lush green paradise ringed in a field of tightly packed sunflowers. The place was bustling with an unnatural number of wild animals. Blue-jays, cardinals and doves. Rabbits, squirrels and all manner of insects caused the trees and the ground to twitter and crawl. There was even a lake inside the ring of sunflowers - the water was blue, clean and sparkling. A gleaming, inviting oasis for anyone flying overhead...
But for The Lunatic Cultist, this place was much more than an interesting respite from The Crimson. This was a chance for him to revive his dream. For years, he had slaved under The Tyrant Yharim, professing loyalty to the empire... but his true goal was none other than raising The Moon Lord. He had done well to hide his re-animation project from Yharim's prying eyes thus far, but the desiccated corpse had finally begin to respond to the rise and fall of the moon. The body would surely begin to emit energy come the height of the lunar cycle, and should Yharim detect it, he would waste no time in absorbing The Dreaming God's power.
And so... he had struck a deal with The Resistance.
They agreed to turn a blind eye to his project, even assist him... but only if he summoned a Terrarian to fight in their service.
But much to his dismay, The Hero - his bargaining chip - had run away to go play in the jungle and kill Resistance members. The Resistance had laid it on his shoulders to either retrieve the disobedient creature, or create a new one, otherwise they would abandon The Cultist's Moon Lord Project to rot in The Dungeon. And thus here he was, searching for his hope. Searching for his bargaining chip...
His search had brought him here... floating above the circle of green and calmly watching the world below. Several humans wandered about the small compound amidst the ring of pure land. No human could battle off The Crimson like this...
Could it be The Hero?
The Pink haired woman was here. She was the one who claimed The Hero was living in this place. She scurried about the lawn in an agitated fashion as if waiting for something with great anticipation. Another pink haired woman peeked out from indoors, her nose buried in a large book. From the east, two figures were making their way into the heart of the oasis... one looked like a farmer. The other?
A knight?
The Cultist squinted his eyes, using magic to enhance his vision.
Heavy plate armour, a blue cloak, a furred muff, a feathered plume. Not The Hero's armour... but his movements gave him away. There was nobody on this earth that could mimic that weightless gait. It that flowed like water, but was sharp and effortlessly precise. He exuded an odd, but familiar aura... as if he were something vast and horrible and dangerous. Did he appear slightly shorter? Nonsense. Thought The Cultist as he began to descend into The Compound.
Only one Terrarian could exist in the world at any time.
This was The Hero.
His hope.
His Bargaining Chip
Lunatic Cultist: My beloved child, come here.
Slayer: ?!
S: *stranger danger!*
Faze: *is 30 days old*
Faze: Back when I was young...
Okay Politicks
So uhhh
arch put cloaking magic on faze a while ago, so LC can't find him with magic ball. Ammy is like - can you please just give him to us so we can make him fight armies like before? Arch is all about freedom though and a really chill dude. He doesn't give up Faze. Ammy = you're ultra sus. Prob traitor. Also you're trying to run (because he doesn't want resistance to get nuked in case Yharim tracks him) Also Archmage took off the cloaking spell because he's afraid Yharim will somehow track Faze through him. Nobody knows how yharim does anything he's just mega powerful.
LC started this whole debaucle because he wanted to raise Moon Lord. He summoned Faze, (and slayer) to trade him for helping raise ML. Currently the project is deep in one of the dungeon chambers, and LC wants to get it out before it starts emitting energy. Afraid Yharim will discover it. Full moon soon.
Meanwhile, Faze is actually headed to Dungeon because he's searching for the documents used to summon him. He wants to move his spawn point from the middle of the crimson to somewhere more friendly. Arch says he will help do it, but needs to hurry before Yharim comes and eats him alive.
Recall that Party Girl wants to kill Cultist and take his head off so she can go back to CC headquarters and not get executed.
Aight. this is prob redundant, but ye. ty