Chapter 91: Hell Poet
2014-12-02
Author: Floating Tower
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There are three legendary bards.
They are all monstrous existences; they can cast legendary spells like wizards, master legendary combat skills like warriors, and disappear into the Shadow Plane like thieves. These three legendary bards appeared in different eras, but their abilities are all exceptionally terrifying, serving as the most mediocre professionists, exemplifying the model of being average at everything. Yet, among bards, there have indeed been some unreasonable monsters!
The Hell Poet is one of them.
It is said that he was a Holy Bard before his fall, a believer favored by a certain deity. Later, it is said that he was tempted by the Lord of Hell and ultimately fell into an evil avatar.
There is not much documentation about the Hell Poet, but his achievements are quite illustrious. He also composed “Apocalypse – Prologue to Hell,” one of the three forbidden songs, which is said to have six segments, each equivalent to an eighth-tier spell in power. If these six musical segments are combined, it results in the legendary ‘Descent of Hell’, a terrifying legendary spell. He was one of the indigenous legendary professionists active during the tumultuous years, successfully eliminating three weak deities who controlled the musical priesthood and accordingly became the Evil God controlling the music priesthood.
The Hell Poet is also a master of Blasphemous Words, and many from the Evil Faction served him in exchange for power!
If what this dossier states is true, then he must have performed the first segment of “Apocalypse – Prologue to Hell”. By embedding despair as a mental imprint into the minds of the other spectators present, if their wills cannot resist this force, they would commit suicide after experiencing endless despair. Soren has heard of the name Holy Bard City; it seems to be a city far away, but he does not remember if anything happened there, as he had never been to such a remote place.
There are many mysterious powers in this world.
Some existences possess realms far beyond mortal imagination! The Merchant Caravan Mistress fell silent and looked deeply at Soren, asking, “Are you leaving today?”
Soren gently nodded, replying, “Yes.”
The Merchant Caravan Mistress’ expression was obviously a bit complex, and there was a hint of dislike in her gaze towards Soren. She said in a deep voice, “Very well. I will go with you.”
“Ah?!” Soren looked up in surprise and said, “Why?”
The Merchant Caravan Mistress shot him a displeased glance and said sternly, “I’m worried about Vivian; your strength is absolutely insufficient to protect her when faced with danger. I do not want to see her fall into peril because of your foolishness. If it weren’t for the fact that she truly cares about you, I would really want to teach you a lesson!”
Soren was somewhat at a loss for words, but he could feel the Merchant Caravan Mistress’ concern for Vivian.
There were some things he really could not say, as it was not the right time. However, the Merchant Caravan Mistress in front of him made him feel much friendlier; putting aside other matters, her concern for the little girl was already enough to make Soren feel goodwill.
The Merchant Caravan Mistress glanced at him and continued, “I will escort you all the way to the Elf Kingdom, and then I will teleport back to the Northern Region.”
…
For a brief moment.
Soren really wanted to tell her that the Northern Region is also the center of chaos. But in the end, he forced himself to swallow it back.
Perhaps when the timing is more mature, and the followers of the gods can no longer contact their deities, it would be better to reveal a bit to her, at a time when the opportunity for tumultuous years would also begin. Because this journey would take at least half a month, totaling to a month, it is impossible for all the deities to not respond to any prayers from their followers within a month. By then, many powerful organizations in the world would realize that something has happened to the realm of the gods.
This period of silence lasted for two years, causing many followers of the gods to become anxious.
Some priests of evil gods even attempted to hold evil ceremonies continuously, trying to attract the attention of the deities. But ultimately, there were no results. Many priests of good deities also held large-scale celebratory rituals, and the Elf Kingdom even held a grand special ceremony, trying to summon a consciousness to descend, but in the end, there was no harvest. Soren remembers clearly the reason for this. It is because this ritual would summon the legendary Treant Queen and then have a mortal mate with her.
This is also an ancient ritual for healing the wounds of the forest.
“You wait here.” The Merchant Caravan Mistress glanced at Soren and then walked toward the back chamber, saying, “I need to prepare some things, and Vivian needs to prepare as well. We’ll set off at noon.”
Soren nodded and did not argue.
About half an hour later, the cute figure of the little girl appeared before him; she had changed back into her original clothes, with clean deer-skin boots on her small feet. She proudly walked up to Soren, sat down on his lap with a plop, and raised her feet, saying, “Brother, look! Vivian has grown a bit! These shoes fit me perfectly now.”
Soren did not speak, only giving her head a light kiss.
The little girl had some scattered small trinkets on her, but they did not seem purely decorative; they looked like some extraordinary quality items. Soren had no doubt about the wealth of a high-level Northern Witch; she was undoubtedly a typical rich beauty in this world, and of the city lord level. The Witch Council already ruled most of the cities in the Northern Region, and their high-level members were almost equivalent to possessing a vast amount of private territorial wealth.
When the Merchant Caravan Mistress appeared again, Soren couldn’t help but be taken aback.
It wasn’t that she was special; in fact, the Merchant Caravan Mistress was wearing an ordinary gray robe that nearly covered her entirely. If not for careful observation, one might not even be able to distinguish gender. However, her outfit gave Soren a slight sense of familiarity, as if he had seen it before.
This ‘before’ certainly wasn’t from Amber City to White Horse City, but from a certain impression in his memory.
He thought hard about it but could not recall, so he set it aside for now; some things simply cannot all be remembered, as brief impressions are easily forgotten.
They set off at noon.
The Merchant Caravan Mistress prepared a cart; many merchant caravans had already departed, and the road to Leaffall City was basically cleared, although there would still be scattered monsters from the wilderness, which was unavoidable. The Ancient Red Dragon should still be in the process of building its lair, and won’t cause any major incidents in the next month or two, so it can be considered a relatively peaceful time.
If not counting the increasingly spreading skinning incidents.
White Horse City now resembled the old Amber City; panic was clearly spreading within the city. The White Horse Guard, having just experienced a major battle, seemed to be anxious, practically eager to drag those fallen ones out and hang them. Thanks to the authority of the Merchant Caravan Mistress, they easily passed through the inspection, and Soren began to drive the cart, heading towards Leaffall City with the two of them. The cart was custom-made, very stable and comfortable inside, causing not a hint of bumpiness.
The Merchant Caravan Mistress lazily reclined in the cart, with a specially made incense burning beside her, giving off a very pleasant aroma.
The little girl sat beside her, asking her questions whenever she didn’t understand, occasionally glancing at Soren driving the cart. When bored, she would climb out and sit next to him, watching the scenery roll by. After a while, she would burrow back into the cart and take out exquisite snacks from her small pocket, holding them up to Soren’s mouth with a look of offering.
Perhaps it was because there was an extra high-level spellcaster with them.
This journey felt more like a tour; the Merchant Caravan Mistress could always pull out many things from thin air, while lazily dozing off with her eyes half-closed, she would answer the little girl’s endless questions.
