Chapter 1189 The Famous Four
Upon entering the Kraken Clan building, the group was immediately struck by the grandeur of the interior. Dominating the center of the main hall was an awe-inspiring centerpiece: a colossal statue of a kraken, expertly crafted from gold. Its tentacles seemed to reach out into the space around it, creating an imposing yet majestic presence that commanded attention.
The hall was abuzz with various groups and individuals from a multitude of races, each engaged in their own conversations or preparations. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation and a hint of underlying competition. Elves in their elegant robes mingled with dwarves clad in sturdy armor. At the same time, humans and other races such as halflings and demihumans, conversed in hushed tones, adding to the diverse tapestry of the gathering.
As Michael and Gaya moved through the hall, snippets of conversations reached their ears, providing insights into the collective mindset of those present. Many were speculating about the dungeon they were set to explore, discussing strategies and potential dangers.
One conversation, in particular, caught their attention. A group nearby was discussing Silvaris, the angel of Velarix, the god of thieves. "They say Silvaris created the dungeon," one person whispered, "and stored everything he stole in there. Who knows what treasures and traps he's left behind."
Meanwhile, Borgin, with a sharp eye, scanned the crowd and issued a cautionary warning to his group. "Secure your items," he advised in a low tone. "There are members of the thieves' guild around,"
Michael's gaze followed Borgin's, and he soon noticed a few individuals who were skillfully navigating through the crowd. They were scanning their surroundings, occasionally brushing past unsuspecting people. With deft movements, they pickpocketed valuables, their actions almost invisible to the untrained eye.
Gaya watched with a hint of amusement as a group of halflings executed their craft with remarkable finesse. These halflings, barely reaching the elbows of some of the taller races, moved with agility and stealth that made them almost ghostlike. Their appearance was typical of their race, with bright eyes and mischievous expressions. Each move was calculated as they deftly dipped their hands into the pockets of unsuspecting elves, who were too engrossed in their conversations to notice. The halflings' nimble fingers relieved the elves of their purses and jewelry before putting them into the small satchels the halflings carried.
Noting the distinct lack of orcs compared to other races, Gaya realized that, much like the orcs in the mortal realm, those in the realm of gods seemed to prefer a more pacifist lifestyle, favoring scholarly pursuits over combat.
Then, turning to Michael, Gaya whispered a question, her eyes glancing towards the mechanical soldiers that patrolled the hall. Their heavy steps resonated with a metallic thud, echoing through the space. "Can you see the cultivation level of these mechanical soldiers?" she inquired quietly. Michael observed the soldiers closely, noting the glowing runes and the seamless way they moved. "They seem to be powered by celestial crystals," he responded in a low voice. "And the runes, along with how they are built... it looks like they're designed to manipulate their cultivation levels."
His assessment spoke of the high level of technological and magical advancement in Aurumvale, where even the guardians of a building could be sophisticated enough to adjust their power levels as needed. Suddenly, a subtle but noticeable tremor rippled through the ground, causing the bustling hall to fall silent. Heads turned in unison towards the source of the disturbance, a sense of anticipation filling the air.
Another mechanical soldier, distinct from the others, made its entrance. It was taller and more robust, its body adorned with an intricate array of runes. The golden body of the soldier was decorated with red linings, and its eyes glowed a deep, ominous red, giving it an imposing presence. This soldier was clearly of a higher rank or specialization, its design suggesting advanced capabilities and strength.
Following this formidable guardian was a gray-haired elder, a human dressed in golden robes that flowed elegantly behind him. His long beard and wise, weathered face conveyed a sense of authority and experience. The crowd watched in silence as the elder made his way towards an elevated platform in the room.
As he climbed the stairs to the platform, the mechanical soldier took a position nearby. The elder, standing with a dignified poise on the platform, introduced himself in a clear, strong voice. "I am Derelius Kraken, one of the elders of the Kraken Clan," he announced, his gaze sweeping across the audience.
"I welcome you all and thank you for heeding our summon," Derelius continued, his tone warm yet authoritative. "I'll get straight to the point. The dungeon will open in three days, and you have this time to prepare yourselves."
An elf clad in elegant armor raised a question, his voice echoing slightly in the large hall. "Do you know what we can expect inside the dungeon?" he asked, his posture straight, reflecting his keen interest in the answer. In response, Derelius nodded, his expression serious. "Since the dungeon belongs to an angel of the god of thieves, Velarix, and this angel is rumored to be Silvaris, the legendary thief, you should expect more dangerous traps than you can imagine." He paused for a moment, ensuring he had everyone's attention. "Our team of runemasters and scholars suspect that the dungeon might have special arrays. These could either suppress your cultivation or, in some parts of the dungeon, completely cut off your connection to celestial energy. This means you could lose access to your cultivation powers altogether while inside."
Derelius Kraken, his voice resonating with authority, continued his address. "Expect the unexpected," he cautioned, his eyes scanning the crowd, ensuring the gravity of his words was understood.
"We believe Silvaris has stored some bone fragments of Vedora in the center of the dungeon, along with other treasures. The Kraken Clan needs these remains. Whoever brings these remains to us, untouched, will receive a favor from our clan." He added, emphasizing each word. His statement, while offering a significant reward, also carried an undertone of an order and a veiled threat.
"We will also send our own team of clan members into the dungeon, accompanied by some renowned figures in Aurumvale, on our behalf."
A hush fell over the hall as his words sank in. The attendees began to murmur among themselves, wondering who these renowned figures could be. The air was thick with speculation and curiosity.
In the midst of the crowd, Michael and Gaya overheard snippets of whispered conversations from those around them. While the whispers did not reveal the names of the renowned figures, the tone and expressions of shock and awe on the faces of the speakers made it clear that these individuals were of significant stature and influence in Aurumvale.
"Can you believe they're sending them?" one person whispered, their eyes wide.
"This is going to be more challenging than we thought," another murmured, a hint of concern in their voice.
As the crowd eagerly anticipated what was to come next, the elder's voice boomed across the hall, "Shall we receive them?" With a clap of his hands, the golden roof above them began to slowly open, revealing the sky above.
When the golden roof parted, the first to descend from the sky was a young woman with flowing red hair. She rode a majestic dragon with crimson red scales, its blue eyes shining like sapphires. The dragon's wings unfurled gracefully, casting a large shadow over the crowd. Whispers immediately filled the hall.
"Is that Lysandra?" someone gasped, their voice tinged with disbelief. "Riding a dragon of the Elemental Attunement Realm!"
"Look at the size of that thing" another added, their eyes wide with awe. "They say she tamed it herself, a feat only few could dream of."
Following Lysandra's impressive entrance, another figure drew the crowd's attention. A young elf man with golden hair descended from the sky, wearing shimmering silver armor and metallic wings that reflected the light beautifully. He landed gently, his long sword sheathed at his side, radiating an aura of valor.
"Elrion!" an elf in the crowd exclaimed, recognition lighting up their face. "A warrior who worships Valorious, the God of Valor and Bravery."
"His skills in battle are legendary," someone else chimed in. "It's said he's never known defeat."
The murmurs and discussions among the crowd grew louder, a mix of admiration, envy, and excitement. After Lysandra and Elrion arrived, two more figures descended, further captivating the audience.
An old woman, her back hunched, floated down on a swirling chakra. She was draped in dark robes, clutching a staff that seemed to pulse with a mysterious energy. This was Shar, known for her devotion to Morbus, the God of Plagues. Her arrival sent a ripple of fear through the crowd.
"Shar," someone whispered, their voice laced with a hint of dread. "Remember the famine she unleashed?"
"Yeah," another voice joined in, barely above a breath. "A whole village refused to worship a god, and she brought down a poisoning plague upon them. Wiped them all out." The fear in their tone was palpable, a testament to Shar's formidable powers and her god's ruthless will.
The final figure to make an entrance was a young man with silver hair and piercing green eyes. He was a dark elf, dressed in dark robes, equipped with two short daggers, and a bow and quiver strapped to his back. "Who is he?" asked a dwarf, clueless about the dark elf's identity.
"That's Jin," someone muttered, their eyes fixed on the dark elf. "He's said to be one of Death's chosen."
"I heard he can move like a shadow," another added, their voice a mix of admiration and unease. "They say he's never failed an assassination."
"This reminds me of the time of the Heavenly Gates competition," Michael chuckled, feeling the nostalgia. "I have a feeling this is going to end up with some pretty bad face slapping," Gaya whispered to Michael.
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