Chapter 33 Chapter 5 Necromancer Temple
The Necromancer is located in a well-known place in the world, it is located on the highest mountain in Simhallen: the peak of the Holy Mountain.Its foundations had been magically leveled when it was first built, but the sanctuary looks more like it hangs from a cliff than it sits on a bed of solid rock.It was, as the saying goes, and later proved, a visual joke, that the sanctuary and its gardens occupied the only flat ground at that dizzying height.
According to legend, the Necromancer was built by the dead themselves using mountain stones with their own hands, so that the peak of the mountain forms the cavernous back wall of the temple.The mountain peak transformed by magic spirals straight into the sky, forming the roof of the church. The east and west walls extend from the rocks on the back wall, rising up on the top of the cliff along the natural line of the mountain.The gardens of the Necropolis, though they are now said to be on the "highest point" of the mountain, are actually five hundred feet below the sanctuary.
The columned porch of the church is built facing north, and there is a spacious circular flat in front of the door.The flat ground is paved with stones in the shape of a wheel, and the nine paths are the nine spokes, leading from the surrounding wheel-shaped paths to the huge sacrificial stone in the center of the wheel.The symbols of the nine major tribes are engraved at the end of each path, and the last nine symbols are repeatedly engraved on the sacrificial stone.
The place was once well cared for.Comfortable wooden benches were placed at regular intervals around the wheels, and the meadows between the spokes were in full bloom, slowly cultivated by the hands of the druids at such a high altitude.
In this once-prosperous and beautiful garden, in this once-glorious setting, the people of Simharun from far and wide come here from far and wide to seek advice, discuss issues, or simply pay respectful visits to their dead relatives and friends. one time.Necromancers are born to understand the secrets of the spiritual world. Emin allows them to live in two worlds: the world of life and the world of death. They act as interpreters, pass information, and pass information from one world to the other. Then send back information from another world.
The Necromancers' Guild was once a powerful society, reaching its peak during Simharon's Iron Wars, or so the previous rumors say.Legend has it that a word from the dead can shake the throne of the emperor and overthrow the entire royal family.Dukexis are not afraid of any living beings, but legend has it that they tremble with fright when they approach the gardens of the Necropolis.There were those, especially the rulers of the land, their mages, and their catalyst saints, who viewed the power of these necromancers with envy.
No one knows exactly how the Necromancers were destroyed in the Iron Wars.It was a chaotic era, and countless people lost their lives in that bloody conflict.Necromancers have always been a small faction, few are born to understand the secrets of the spirit world, and even fewer are trained to endure the life of the dead, so it is easy to understand that such a small force will be destroyed in war, Not even its disappearance was noticed.
All that can be said for now is that the Catalyst Saints declared the Necromancers dead at the end of the war.Then there are the practitioners of the dark arts, the scientists, who are condemned as murderers, just as they are blamed for the evils that befell the land in the last century.
Few people miss the necromancers, and in this land the undead - and there are many - generally die painfully, and those who live prefer to put their grief behind them and go on living, though in many cases, It's so, so hard to do.
If anyone wants to know why children are no longer born with the secrets of the spirit world, they might ask the Catalyst Saints, or Dukes, or the parents of children who are somewhat abnormal.Those children occasionally hear voices that others cannot hear, or talk to some invisible friends.In these instances, those children may come out of this stage, and if this "state" continues, they will lose the child.
It was true what Father Saryon had said about the sanctuary: people were forbidden to set foot in it.But - and this is not to disparage what the Catalyst Saint said, he is undoubtedly picking on the wisdom of people's gossip about the holy mountain - rumors that the church was held down by a curse, but this rumor is not True; rumor has it that a couple of magically powerful Catalyst Saints tried to undo the spell and never came back, but that's not true either.
The truth of the matter is actually very simple - no one bothered to know the truth.The only spell holding down the Necromancer is "Forgotten".
Wearing a camouflaged red robe that rustled against his ankles, the Manju magician cautiously walked out of the teleportation corridor and stepped onto the long-forgotten land of the sanctuary.Songli, who brought him here, was shocked when he heard that he was coming here, and seriously dissuaded him until Bishop Fanya claimed that it was an emergency during wartime, so he could persuade them to send the magician to his destination . However, their nervous fear did not worry him, and he remained confident.He tightly held the displacement pulse gun hidden in his pocket, and while chanting a spell to repel the dead, he quickly looked around.Manju immediately felt that this place was real, so he was relieved and breathed a sigh of relief. Although the sky was cloudless and the sun fell unhindered to every corner of the ground, there always seemed to be an atmosphere of sadness and melancholy hanging over the church like a thick fog, casting almost visible shadows on the ruins and stones. .There is also an atmosphere of terror around this place, a strange sense of stagnation, an unusual silence, like countless invisible people standing around, each of them holding their breath, waiting for something occur. Already shivering in the still cold air, the magician immediately hid the displacement pulse gun and grinned at his own fear, but it was an extremely fragile smile at best.His two knees suddenly failed, and he sat down on a stone bench that was about to weather. What is he looking forward to?He scolded himself.A horde of screaming dead, jumping and screaming, rushing out of the darkness to protest his trespassing?Skeleton hand touching his hand?Human figures in white shrouds and chains prowling around?Whimpering over the depraved state of his mind, and promising him three ghostly visitors every morning? "Humph! Nonsense!" he cried, and could still laugh--just a little shudder--at his own little joke. Wiping the cold sweat off his brow, Manju took some time to regain his composure and study his surroundings carefully, which is why he arrived early.The sun was only level with his left shoulder now, and it was just over an hour before noon. Holding the displacement pulse gun in his hand, he began to carefully and calmly observe every rock and boulder around the sanctuary, painstakingly choosing his hiding place.Even though his quick glance told him there was nothing there, he felt very strongly that someone was watching him.However, nothing was found.He steadfastly dismissed the idea to himself, seeing it as the same childish fantasy as the clanking iron chains and the white shroud. The magician turned away from the edge of the cliff and walked up a path through the Garden of Death to get a closer look at the sacrificial stone.The path he chose was his own branch: the way of KitKat.Whether he chose this path out of superstition, homesickness, or simply because it suited his mood, Manju didn't even bother to analyze. On this high mountain, where the air is cold and dry, the undecomposed stems and leaves of dead plants stand stiffly in the frozen soil on both sides of the path; The roots are uprooted, and the whole tree is exposed to the air.The magician glanced at the broken branches and leaves in the garden without interest, approached the sacrificial stone, looked at it curiously, followed his gaze with his fingers, and traced the nine symbols engraved on the rock representing the nine tribes.This is indeed an extraordinary rock.he thinks.It is a kind of ore.Maybe it's the Dark Stone!Thinking of this, he suddenly felt a tremor of excitement. He looked at it carefully, trying to recall the legends he had heard about the sacrificial stone: how it had been moved to this summit from the holy well at the base of the holy mountain far below; The sealing of the well, and how once this stone is removed, the life force will spew out like magma and spread throughout the universe. The legend makes sense.He suddenly realized this.This dark stone covers that well!That's an exciting thought. Standing in the center of the world, right above the fountain of magic, Manju could feel the magic throbbing around him, permeating his whole body.He was so addicted to the feeling that he couldn't believe he had forgotten how exciting it was to have magic again. The magician continued to study the rock carefully: it is so huge!They were all at least seven feet high, and even with his arms around him, he couldn't even wrap around half of the rock.Weight - how much? —a ton?If this is really a dark stone, its value will be incalculable.His hand, which was stroking it, began to shake expectantly. "Joram will know if it is the Dark Stone or not," muttered the magician, laughing to himself. "When I catch him, I must keep him awake, at least until he has a chance to tell me." The magician happily and hopefully tapped the sacrificial stone a few times, continued his research, and finally came In front of the church. Nine hewn stone steps lead directly to the porch, and the fragmented roof protrudes from the spiraling hilltop, supported by several cracked columns at the porch.Getting closer, the magician saw that due to the heavy pressure of the rocks and the age, many parts of the ceiling had collapsed, and large and small stones were scattered on the floor.The altar is basically invisible through the shadows, as if crushed by a ceiling beam.Climbing up the cracked steps, Manju found to his satisfaction that the inside of the sanctuary was pitch black, and it seemed that even light could not penetrate it. Manju nodded, satisfied with his hiding place.Looking around for the last time, he looked out across the moor to the north, where there was Merilon, the castle gleaming in the sun.He squinted and stared at the city, thinking he saw a glint of metal.Was it Major Polis's tanks that were taking advantage to bombard the Enchanted Dome?Or is it the sunlit reflection of a frozen lake?He couldn't be sure. Shrugging, he turned around.Once he's got the Dark Sword, it doesn't matter at all, and Major Polis and his men can enjoy themselves in the meantime; He no longer thinks wildly, and will make the soldiers' blood boil, as long as they inject the necessary level of fear and hatred into them, it will be enough to make them exterminate the human beings in this world. The sun was high above him now, and the time was coming.Manju returned to his chosen hiding place and began to ponder the question: even with the Dark Sword, this war in this world is likely to last for a long time, and the price paid will be considerable.These humans will not die without fighting.It's a pity he can't use a weapon like a bomb to kill people without destroying buildings or something like that.Will those bombs destroy the magic?Probably not, he'd have to consult the physicists.Come to think of it, Joram might know. How about Joram?Will he cooperate?Walking into the sanctuary, the magician smiled with satisfaction.His plan was very well thought out, and Joram would surely die for his mad wife.As long as Joram thought of Gwendelin in his hands, he would obediently cooperate with him.While that woman may be mentally ill, at least she can still think rationally, which is better than seeing her intelligence drop to the level of a rotting tomato. Manju adjusted the setting switch of his displacement pulse gun from "lethal" to "stunning", and then squatted in the backlight behind a column in the dilapidated church, like a silent silence sinking on the top of the mountain, magic The teacher waited like this.
Wearing a camouflaged red robe that rustled against his ankles, the Manju magician cautiously walked out of the teleportation corridor and stepped onto the long-forgotten land of the sanctuary.Songli, who brought him here, was shocked when he heard that he was coming here, and seriously dissuaded him until Bishop Fanya claimed that it was an emergency during wartime, so he could persuade them to send the magician to his destination . However, their nervous fear did not worry him, and he remained confident.He tightly held the displacement pulse gun hidden in his pocket, and while chanting a spell to repel the dead, he quickly looked around.Manju immediately felt that this place was real, so he was relieved and breathed a sigh of relief. Although the sky was cloudless and the sun fell unhindered to every corner of the ground, there always seemed to be an atmosphere of sadness and melancholy hanging over the church like a thick fog, casting almost visible shadows on the ruins and stones. .There is also an atmosphere of terror around this place, a strange sense of stagnation, an unusual silence, like countless invisible people standing around, each of them holding their breath, waiting for something occur. Already shivering in the still cold air, the magician immediately hid the displacement pulse gun and grinned at his own fear, but it was an extremely fragile smile at best.His two knees suddenly failed, and he sat down on a stone bench that was about to weather. What is he looking forward to?He scolded himself.A horde of screaming dead, jumping and screaming, rushing out of the darkness to protest his trespassing?Skeleton hand touching his hand?Human figures in white shrouds and chains prowling around?Whimpering over the depraved state of his mind, and promising him three ghostly visitors every morning? "Humph! Nonsense!" he cried, and could still laugh--just a little shudder--at his own little joke. Wiping the cold sweat off his brow, Manju took some time to regain his composure and study his surroundings carefully, which is why he arrived early.The sun was only level with his left shoulder now, and it was just over an hour before noon. Holding the displacement pulse gun in his hand, he began to carefully and calmly observe every rock and boulder around the sanctuary, painstakingly choosing his hiding place.Even though his quick glance told him there was nothing there, he felt very strongly that someone was watching him.However, nothing was found.He steadfastly dismissed the idea to himself, seeing it as the same childish fantasy as the clanking iron chains and the white shroud. The magician turned away from the edge of the cliff and walked up a path through the Garden of Death to get a closer look at the sacrificial stone.The path he chose was his own branch: the way of KitKat.Whether he chose this path out of superstition, homesickness, or simply because it suited his mood, Manju didn't even bother to analyze. On this high mountain, where the air is cold and dry, the undecomposed stems and leaves of dead plants stand stiffly in the frozen soil on both sides of the path; The roots are uprooted, and the whole tree is exposed to the air.The magician glanced at the broken branches and leaves in the garden without interest, approached the sacrificial stone, looked at it curiously, followed his gaze with his fingers, and traced the nine symbols engraved on the rock representing the nine tribes.This is indeed an extraordinary rock.he thinks.It is a kind of ore.Maybe it's the Dark Stone!Thinking of this, he suddenly felt a tremor of excitement. He looked at it carefully, trying to recall the legends he had heard about the sacrificial stone: how it had been moved to this summit from the holy well at the base of the holy mountain far below; The sealing of the well, and how once this stone is removed, the life force will spew out like magma and spread throughout the universe. The legend makes sense.He suddenly realized this.This dark stone covers that well!That's an exciting thought. Standing in the center of the world, right above the fountain of magic, Manju could feel the magic throbbing around him, permeating his whole body.He was so addicted to the feeling that he couldn't believe he had forgotten how exciting it was to have magic again. The magician continued to study the rock carefully: it is so huge!They were all at least seven feet high, and even with his arms around him, he couldn't even wrap around half of the rock.Weight - how much? —a ton?If this is really a dark stone, its value will be incalculable.His hand, which was stroking it, began to shake expectantly. "Joram will know if it is the Dark Stone or not," muttered the magician, laughing to himself. "When I catch him, I must keep him awake, at least until he has a chance to tell me." The magician happily and hopefully tapped the sacrificial stone a few times, continued his research, and finally came In front of the church. Nine hewn stone steps lead directly to the porch, and the fragmented roof protrudes from the spiraling hilltop, supported by several cracked columns at the porch.Getting closer, the magician saw that due to the heavy pressure of the rocks and the age, many parts of the ceiling had collapsed, and large and small stones were scattered on the floor.The altar is basically invisible through the shadows, as if crushed by a ceiling beam.Climbing up the cracked steps, Manju found to his satisfaction that the inside of the sanctuary was pitch black, and it seemed that even light could not penetrate it. Manju nodded, satisfied with his hiding place.Looking around for the last time, he looked out across the moor to the north, where there was Merilon, the castle gleaming in the sun.He squinted and stared at the city, thinking he saw a glint of metal.Was it Major Polis's tanks that were taking advantage to bombard the Enchanted Dome?Or is it the sunlit reflection of a frozen lake?He couldn't be sure. Shrugging, he turned around.Once he's got the Dark Sword, it doesn't matter at all, and Major Polis and his men can enjoy themselves in the meantime; He no longer thinks wildly, and will make the soldiers' blood boil, as long as they inject the necessary level of fear and hatred into them, it will be enough to make them exterminate the human beings in this world. The sun was high above him now, and the time was coming.Manju returned to his chosen hiding place and began to ponder the question: even with the Dark Sword, this war in this world is likely to last for a long time, and the price paid will be considerable.These humans will not die without fighting.It's a pity he can't use a weapon like a bomb to kill people without destroying buildings or something like that.Will those bombs destroy the magic?Probably not, he'd have to consult the physicists.Come to think of it, Joram might know. How about Joram?Will he cooperate?Walking into the sanctuary, the magician smiled with satisfaction.His plan was very well thought out, and Joram would surely die for his mad wife.As long as Joram thought of Gwendelin in his hands, he would obediently cooperate with him.While that woman may be mentally ill, at least she can still think rationally, which is better than seeing her intelligence drop to the level of a rotting tomato. Manju adjusted the setting switch of his displacement pulse gun from "lethal" to "stunning", and then squatted in the backlight behind a column in the dilapidated church, like a silent silence sinking on the top of the mountain, magic The teacher waited like this.