Surviving The Fourth Calamity

Capítulo 1378: Chapter 1168: Toril in Turmoil

Although Celene’s words were simple, Hill still understood her meaning.

Edna is currently just an ordinary Ninth Ring Mage, powerless against anyone.

Even just entering the transcendence won’t help; once enemies become the incarnations of gods, a mage under level 30 couldn’t even scratch them.

Beings like Ambori are extremely rare in the Multiverse.

If it comes to the final battle, it’s impossible to have such feeble individuals…at least they cannot appear so weak.

If the apocalypse is caused by someone like Ambori, Toril would likely face countless disturbances.

Strong enemies mean nothing to AO, but he might not tolerate locust swarms every day.

Therefore, AO let her enter the primordial power-formed storm in the volcano’s crater…using the soul of the Goddess of Magic as support, she wouldn’t suffer a mental breakdown from absorbing any amount of primordial energy, nor become an idiot or madwoman.

No wonder AO chose to implement the Chult patch prematurely, which was originally reserved for the future…Edna’s path of destiny had never encountered any life-or-death calamities.

Within the Haber family, she wasn’t captured to the sacrificial grounds, nor endured a shattered spirit subsequently mended by the Weave’s pain.

On the island of Nibro, she wasn’t brutally defeated by Ambori and Sebek joining forces.

Even in the most dangerous place, Snowfall Island, she emerged unscathed, with the greatest trouble being dealt with by Shaer.

She even easily completed her final task relying on the Undead Tribe…establishing a stable alliance among the Toril gods.

Honestly, even if AO himself spoke, he might not be able to form such a comprehensive alliance…not even considering the side of light, Shaer alone, actually represents all the darkness of Toril.

Previously, there wouldn’t have been any alliance capable of bringing the Lady of the Night into its fold.

When the Alliance of Snowfall Island dispatch’s official document was sent out, many deities were likely shocked, searching with magnifying glasses!

However, without experiencing these, Edna’s greatest drawback was the insufficient energy absorption, not even having an inseparable bond with the Weave…AO likely hoped she could absorb multiple Shards of Mistra’s Soul from the Weave, making Mistra’s return to the center of the Weave even more perfect.

Of course, he wouldn’t care if Midnight, having absorbed too many soul shards from others, is still the original her or not.

However, ever since Edna became Edna, she might have drawn in some soul shards from Black Eye…Hill estimated Edna would have a similar deduction…Edna is a descendant of Black Eye, when the fragmented, probably yet substantial soul of Midnight, carrying the Weave’s power, entered the little girl’s body, many ubiquitous soul shards of Black Eye in the Weave must have entered as well.

Otherwise, Edna’s soul wouldn’t be so complete.

Most importantly, even a thread of divine thought on that oil painting fragment wouldn’t so readily acknowledge Edna.

After all, that oil painting fragment originally was in the Black Staff Tower…where there was another female master named Laila.

Yet, this Edna who neither suffered catastrophe nor was bound to the Weave was still satisfying to AO…of course, maybe because he couldn’t expel the Undead Tribe from Toril.

Not only because he agreed to Coron’s request, but probably also due to his wayward little daughter…rather than saving trouble temporarily, AO likely desired a more enduring quiet and harmonious time.

Even AO didn’t want to bear the consequences of William’s expulsion.

That great AO, the God Above Gods of Toril, could only rack his brain to elevate Edna’s power.

Otherwise, letting this Ninth Ring Edna directly face divine-level opponents…he couldn’t slap his own face, by first unlocking Toril’s seal and then restoring the Weave, could he?

There were many places in Toril with primordial power, but places like this one in Chult, where a towering iron gate formed from primordial power, are likely scarce.

It’s just letting Toril explode twice! It has happened before.

AO always had a carefree outlook; after all, his path of destiny was always smooth sailing in the first half, and mysteriously rocky in the latter half.

Manks frowned, turning to look towards the direction of the sea.

She, of course, also saw that Cloud House leisurely colliding with the chaotic Chult Peninsula.

She even saw some of the Undead Tribe and Sorcerer Toril sent into the sea.

Manks’ eyes blinked rapidly…she was of course very familiar with these people, and she ‘knew all about’ the only lady who hadn’t slid down from the Cloud House.

At least at that time, that was what she genuinely thought.

Otherwise, she would never have given Edna a hard time.

Though she wasn’t the one speaking, but…could anyone really think Karagos would dress as a vivacious woman?

At this thought, her calm face slowly scrunched up like a bun.

Although she quickly eased her pensive expression, Shaer—no, Aishdo the photographer professionally captured this momentary change of expression.

The world was the same world, but Heim’s tragic resolve no longer captured Toril’s attention…it was the lightly burdened Cloud House with only its master sitting calmly inside.

If the Archmages of the Twin Towers in Anmur simply looked bewildered upon seeing the Cloud House descending directly on that blue-white storm in the Flame Mountain Range, exclaiming ‘How could it be?’ and desperately seeking confirmation from Sebek and Xaries’ darker sides, on Harua’s White Sailed Ship, only deathly silence remained.

If it weren’t for the Weave suddenly trembling… everyone knows, this must have been the result of Azuth, who was diligently maintaining the stability of the Weave at its center, trembling his hand… this finally woke up those incredulous Haruans.

The Archmages may have dark thoughts, but they’re not fools.

Everyone understands that knowing someone committed a crime, and witnessing someone committing a crime, are never the same.

Especially when this crime is against herself.

Even Anmur’s betrayal of the world could break the pot and sink it.

But the Harua Archmages hadn’t planned on not returning home yet!

Even the resolute Zarasom broke his guard at this moment.

His hoarse voice shattered the dead silence of the volcano crater: “Safras!

Didn’t you say that this time the apocalypse was just to delay the return of the powerful Weave by eight more years!

That the true Path of Destiny would begin in eight years, and Mystra would return to her place in thirty years?

Then what is this before our eyes?

Speak up!

TELL ME WHAT THE HELL THIS IS!”

The lament of the former king of Harua echoed through the sky, while on Hill’s Floating Castle it was a scene of celebration.

Lansendel, who had been waiting anxiously, was dancing in the garden… even going so far as to expend divine power to regrow the bare tail.

With that resplendent golden tail swaying grandly, the Golden Peacock danced to an odd drumbeat.

Hill tried to recognize if the rhythm matched Lansendel’s song ‘Though you’re wrong, wrong and always wrong~ it’s all your fault, even the sacrifice was wrong’ but still couldn’t tell if it was the same song.

As for the lyrics… perhaps it’s a popular song among the Undead?

Anyway, Hill couldn’t make it out, the Great Peacock was too excited, and its voice was slightly shrill, so even a normal person like Hill couldn’t discern the melody.

Celene’s reaction was simpler… she held a pillow in one hand, laughing heartily while pounding her beloved recliner with the other.

The sound of ‘hahahahaha’ resounded unabated across the sky.

Shaer… Shaer simply turned herself back into a shadow.

The Lady of the Night seems quite concerned with her image.

She always smiles gently, but now she probably couldn’t help grinning too widely, so she went home.

Hill silently lowered his head, scribbling the numbers Zarasom shouted on a crystal petal.

Safras’s connection with the Tablets of Fate is indeed close… it was currently only 83.

According to the original script, in 85, Cyric would assassinate Mystra.

Poor Midnight, who fell into a mine, spent three years summoning her followers… most notably the devious Kelben.

Then her path to resurrection took three years, and once back in the Divine Kingdom, Midnight, having abandoned several of her own children, was again sent down by Cyric.

After surviving trials, resurrected in her eldest daughter and returning to the Divine Kingdom, Mystra never again displayed her past vigor… becoming a complete tool.

But Hill knew the real situation because he had the old script, while Safras, with his so-called prophecy, could see the end already?

That he would foresee the world-ending by Dandell, Hill found surprising: prophecy, even for some deities of fate, can’t be guaranteed to such precision.

Only Safras, with prophecy and magical omens, could see the future so accurately!

Even if he couldn’t pinpoint specific dates, it was terrifying enough… how could AO allow his existence!

Manks, who was staring at the Cloud House spinning rapidly in the storm at the volcano mouth, suddenly turned to look at Harua’s White Sailed Ship. She lightly frowned, then smiled with interest as she propped her chin with her inseparable fan.

“You… honorable Duke of Demons.” said Mannica, whose veil was blown off by the strong wind, suddenly smiling at her, “Have you given up on maintaining your ladylike image?”

“Lady?” Manks glanced at her lightly, “Where? I don’t see it.”

In a seductive pose and with a charming smile, Mannica tied her long hair, blown in disarray by the wind, to her chest with her veil, her high bosom made especially prominent by the ends of her hair: “Honored one, indeed we did wrong, but what could we do?

When you hadn’t shown your true power, we could only judge the stronger by conventional means!

The weak, those who survive by attaching themselves to the strong, how could they offend the stronger side within their hearts?”