Chapter 185 Gazing into the Abyss

Nym, Moon Goddess Church.

"This matter is no longer something we can handle."

Isidore wore a solemn expression. Wisps of silvery-white divine radiance still lingered on his dignified, exquisite cleric robes. Bathed in the moonlight, he exuded an aura of divine beauty.

However, this formed a stark contrast with his pale, bloodless face, his trembling fingertips, and the fine sheen of sweat beading on his forehead.

"Take your men and lock down the nearby streets immediately. Evacuate the civilians. And send someone to City Hall to contact Mr. Wycliffe."

"We can't solve this simply by throwing numbers at it, but we need guards to maintain order in the city and prepare for potential unrest."

Hearing this, the middle-aged man standing before him in a sheriff's uniform—still bearing traces of sleepiness—frowned.

"Mobilizing the city defense at a time like this..."

"This is a state of emergency!"

Sensing the man's hesitation, Isidore cut him off.

The cold moonlight cast a faint glow across his face, flashing brightly against the shattered glass on the floor.

The sheriff subconsciously glanced behind the cleric at the shattered stained glass window.

He shivered. Roused in the middle of the night, his groggy mind instantly cleared.

Realizing he had spoken foolishly, he slapped his own head.

"Understood. I'll go right away!"

Despite the recent political undercurrents among the city's higher-ups, an incident at the Moon Goddess Church—overseen by high-level Class Holders—threatened the entire district. Its priority was absolute.

He had been half-asleep, focused only on avoiding the political games of those big shots, completely overlooking the severity of the situation.

If it really was as the cleric said, that it might be the "descent of an evil god"...

If mishandled even slightly, the residents of the entire West District, himself included, would suffer.

Thinking of this, a wave of dread washed over the sheriff.

He debated running home first to tell his parents and wife to hide outside the city for a few days.

He shifted his feet, turning half around before abruptly pausing.

"Excuse me... is there anything I should watch out for?" he asked.

As a senior sheriff with a Class Level, he knew that even if the cleric's guess was wrong, whoever could cause such a scene inside the Moon Goddess Church was far beyond him and a few ordinary guards who had never even killed a man.

He couldn't help but feel uneasy before setting out.

His eyes lingered on the swirling, silvery-white mist of light hovering above the church hall.

Hearing the sheriff, Isidore let out an imperceptible sigh.

"I've already described him—an Elf with long golden hair."

"If you run into him... do not try to stop him. Avoid close contact entirely and send a signal to your superiors."

"Otherwise, you'll only add to the casualties."

"I've already contacted Waterdeep. The Church is sending someone immediately. As for the rest... don't overthink it."

Isidore paused, his rushed tone growing solemn.

"Just lead the guards in maintaining order within the city. I will provide whatever assistance I can from here."

Despite his years as a cleric, Isidore had never encountered an incident involving deities.

However, records in the Church's ancient texts and the experiences he had gleaned from colleagues during his studies in Waterdeep had taught him a crucial lesson.

When a large city like Nym faced an incident like this, the direct harm to the city and its residents rarely came from the attacker.

Instead, it came from the ensuing instability—from panicked civilians and low-level Class Holders acting out.

Knowing the sheriff's strength, Isidore held no hope that the man could impact the unfolding crisis. If he could just maintain order and protect the innocent, that would be enough.

Hearing this, the sheriff wasted no more time.

He offered a crisp salute and led a squad of guards out of the church.

Barely tens of minutes had passed since the resurrection ritual ended.

—And that included the time the two of them had spent unconscious on the floor, waiting to be roused by the inner hall clergy who had heard the commotion.

From the streets outside the church came the faint but hurried sound of dense footsteps, shouting mixed with curses, and the clatter of clashing metal.

In the dead of night, the previously pitch-black houses in the residential areas on both sides of the street lit up one by one with uneasy glows.

Isidore's heart, already turbulent from the sudden turn of events, grew even more unsettled by the agitation outside.

His lips moved, murmuring a prayer until he managed to calm himself.

He shifted his gaze toward the front row of the hall, landing on a motionless figure sitting in the shadow of a pillar.

Isidore slowly walked over.

"How are you holding up?"

Cornell sat alone in the corner, his head lowered and one hand resting on his forehead. His face was terrifyingly pale.

His jaw was clenched tight and the veins in his neck bulged as if he were enduring intense agony.

"I'm fine. Just a little drained of mental energy."

"But I suspect there might be other lingering effects... After all, that thing..."

"I'll do a thorough check-up once I get back to Chromatic Ring City."

Isidore nodded. He gently placed his right hand over the holy symbol on his chest and lowered his brow. A streak of silvery-white radiance descended from the vaulted ceiling, bathing the mage.

In just a few breaths, Cornell's complexion improved significantly.

His chest heaved as he exhaled heavily.

He extended his left hand, palm facing him, and channeled his slightly recovered mental energy. The iron ring on his thumb flickered with magical radiance.

The radiance was unstable, disrupted by something. It flickered erratically, looking as though it would collapse entirely in the next second.

This continued for nearly half a minute before the light surged, materializing a finger-thick glass vial of glowing, crystalline blue liquid in Cornell's palm.

He pulled the stopper with effort and downed it in one gulp.

As the concentration of magical particles in the surrounding air spiked, the mage's contorted expression finally relaxed.

Despite directly facing the suspected evil god, Cornell adapted to the incident faster than Isidore, who enjoyed the protection of the Moon Goddess Selune.

As a capable mage of the School of Conjuration, he spent the vast majority of his time—when not adventuring—conducting experiments in his mentor's mage tower.

The bizarre situations he encountered during those experiments, along with the high tolerance for the unknown required by his profession...

...meant that while he still felt a lingering fear, he wasn't particularly anxious.

He was merely a passerby set to leave shortly, so he cared little about the impact this would have on Nym.

At this moment, his most profound feeling was a heart-wrenching pang, like a knife twisting in his chest.

An incredibly ordinary Association quest—one that could easily be called a vacation—had tricked their party into coming to this border region of the kingdom.

After so many days, he hadn't earned a single gold coin. Instead, he had wasted several of his own spell scrolls, and the half-orc teammate who had finally adapted to their combat style was dead, forcing them to recruit a replacement.

He had originally planned to stay in Nym for a few days to catch up with an old friend and use his connections to hold a resurrection ritual for the Elf teammate who had also perished.

And the result?

He was resurrected, but exactly who was resurrected... nobody knew.

Not only had he spent a fortune and wasted all the ritual materials he'd saved up, but the Elf, Windstring, now had almost zero chance of ever being revived.

Unlike the half-orc Volga, whose temporary spot could be filled by a new recruit, their party had permanently lost a core member.

But he had no time to grieve.

The magical particles leaking from his body gave Cornell an even bigger headache.

Two pieces of protective Magic Equipment had been completely totaled by a single glance from that entity, beyond any possibility of repair.

The Teleportation Seal engraved on his forehead—personally applied by his mentor, unobtainable at any price, and the fruit of years of experimentation refined from ancient runes—had also been completely consumed.

Even his other pieces of Magic Equipment had suffered varying degrees of damage.

Like the special silver ring on his left thumb, enchanted with spatial magic for storage.

Now, even using mental energy to connect with it and retrieve items was difficult.

Repairing all these items would be another massive expense.

After this single trip, he had made no money, two teammates had died, all his gear was ruined, and his net worth had plummeted.

Cornell felt his heart bleed.

"Where exactly did things go wrong?" he asked Isidore. "We both checked the ritual materials multiple times. Could there have been an omission?"

"It wasn't a problem with the materials." The cleric shook his head, thoughtfully recalling the resurrection spell he had cast just moments ago.

"Everything went smoothly from start to finish."

"I definitely completed the communication with Windstring's soul, established a connection, and brought him back from the outer planes."

Cornell gave a slight nod.

"I saw his soul at the time. It was definitely him!"

"But..."

A look of helplessness and deep dread surfaced on the cleric's face.

"If an evil god truly used his body to descend to the Material Plane, the two of us wouldn't be able to spot any flaws."

"The critical question now is exactly what method It used to resurrect and descend right under the Goddess's nose, inside the Moon Goddess Church."

"Perhaps..." Cornell hesitated before voicing his theory.

"It came from outside the crystal sphere system?"

His recent encounter in the Goblin Lair had subconsciously caused him to link the two.

But he was just throwing it out there. After a little thought, he knew there were no similarities between the two incidents, nor could it be such a coincidence.

He only suggested it to cover up the blasphemous thought that had flashed through his mind after the cleric raised his doubts.

As a mage, Cornell possessed a broad scope of knowledge and a certain understanding of the deities above.

The Maiden of the Moon, Selune, might not be among the absolute strongest in terms of divine power, but as one of the oldest gods in this world, the authority and capabilities She commanded were far beyond ordinary imagination.

Given this, inside a church under the protection of such a deity, during the highly unique timing of the Feast of the Moon, and within a special resurrection ritual that required drawing upon the divine power of moonlight from start to finish...

...to evade the Goddess and forcibly seize the half-elf's body...

At least within the scope of Cornell's knowledge, the entities capable of pulling off such a feat could be counted on one hand.

Furthermore, he didn't believe figures of that caliber would even need such methods to descend to the Material Plane.

Therefore, in his eyes, there was only one possibility left.

The Goddess had discovered this evil god descending via the Elf's corpse.

Yet, for some reason, She had chosen not to interfere.

Instead, She had simply watched in silence.

The moonlight that had flared up to protect the cleric after the Elf revived seemed to corroborate this theory.

'Why?'

He had no way of knowing.

Out of caution, Cornell chose not to voice his doubts to his old acquaintance.

Meanwhile, on the other side...

Looking at the pale mage before him, Isidore harbored his own secrets beneath his calm gaze.

As the Goddess's most devout follower, how could he not know the might of his Lord?

And the faint decrees he had received while in that so-called "unconscious" state...

...had also let him know.

Regarding the incident that had just taken place inside the church, Our Lady's attitude was rather ambiguous.

This was exactly why Isidore, upon waking, hadn't used the trump cards specifically prepared for emergencies. Instead, he had called for the sheriff to handle the situation.

As for the rest, once the people from Waterdeep arrived, those colleagues closer to the Goddess's radiance would naturally take care of it.

"I should get going."

Cornell's voice suddenly broke the heavy silence.

"Now?" The cleric looked surprised. "You're not going to rest for a few more days?"

In response, Cornell only offered a strange smile.

"Even if we count from when I first arrived in Rivervale Town, I've only been out here for a few dozen days in total, and I've almost burned through the entirety of the savings I've accumulated over the years."

"Stay a few more days?"

"I'm afraid I'd end up having to pawn the very staff in my hand."

Seeing him put it like that, Isidore stopped trying to persuade him and walked him out of the church.

Right before parting, he was just thinking about exchanging a few more pleasantries.

However, a somewhat familiar figure suddenly walked past on the street ahead.

"Xia Nan?"

The sudden greeting snapped Xia Nan out of his daze.

He shifted his gaze away from the Attribute Panel in front of him and looked across the street.

Entering his vision was the white-robed cleric who had hosted them when he accompanied Jeff and the others to take refuge in the church a couple of days ago.

And...

...that Spellcaster he had briefly crossed paths with at the Adventurers' Association on Hunting Day?

'Why is he in Nym too?'

He wondered.

His expression unchanged, Xia Nan returned the greeting and walked over.

At the same time, the shift in his attention caused the Attribute Panel floating in the empty space before his eyes to slowly fade away.

...

[Gaze into the Abyss]

Category: Feat

Effects:

1. When resisting mind-control spells such as charm, fear, or hypnosis, you gain a bonus to your Saving Throw (influenced by your Perception attribute);

2. When you successfully resist a mind-control effect, the caster is forced to make a Saving Throw. Upon failure, they will fall into a [Brief Stupor] state and suffer a certain amount of psychic damage.

Description:

The experience of gazing into the "abyss" has tempered your will to be as resilient as steel.

Note:

"I saw It."

—Abyssal Periscope · Shadow Hider · Farron