bdsm-fiction Chapter 216, page 215: The Tomb, the Buried Ian!
Chapter 216, page 215: The Tomb, the Buried Ian!
Chapter 216, page 215: The Tomb, the Buried Ian!
It matches! It matches perfectly!
I always said that a child couldn't possibly have such incredible abilities!
"What to do? I invited people to go tomb raiding, but I ended up inviting the tomb owner instead!?" The legendary Wizard King was in a panic. He didn't know if he had time to wait online.
Everyone says Medivh is cunning, but who would have thought he'd be this cunning? He even went so far as to sign some kind of spoils-sharing agreement, promising not to harm each other. Isn't this just a complete and utter fooling?
Do not!
This entire tomb might be a mockery of the world! A deliberate trap for wicked wizards! Honestly, the longer one lives, the greater their wicked sense of humor must be!
It's not unreasonable for people from thousands of years ago to enjoy playing tricks on each other. Although there is a contract that prohibits harming each other, it seems that the contract does not stipulate that the tomb guardians in the tomb cannot harm themselves.
"He must have done this on purpose!"
In an instant.
Many thoughts raced through Merlin's mind.
No wonder he was so flustered.
The main problem is that he often acts like a child to fool others, so he inevitably projects his own experience onto others, fearing that he might be caught in a shocking entrapment operation.
After all, it is indeed immoral to set your sights on someone else's tomb. If you are caught red-handed, you will be beaten to death and there is no way to complain. How could Merlin not be worried?
Faced with Merlin's surprised and uncertain gaze, the young wizard had no idea what the other was thinking. He wasn't actually hiding it on purpose; he only found out where he was to come after signing the contract.
If Merlin were to tell him that Medivh was his alter ego, his future self, Merlin would certainly not believe him, and would definitely not bring the young wizard to this place again. The young wizard could only say he felt he had a reason to keep it a secret, but the current situation was undeniably somewhat awkward.
"Would you believe me if I said that Ares, the God of War, has lost his mind? After all, he's a dead man, you know."
"You've lost your mind." Ian Shane said with a laugh, trying to ease the tension.
"I believe you—really." Merlin's answer was firm and his emotions were stable; if you disregarded his extremely wary and uneasy expression, it was indeed very sincere.
How dare he answer now?
On someone else's turf, if you say you don't believe it, aren't you just giving them a reason to attack? Merlin asked himself, when he killed the dark wizard, could he have used the excuse that it was inappropriate to step into the tavern with the target's left foot?
The more you think.
The more sweat appeared on Merlin's forehead, the worse it became.
He wasn't worried about Ian taking action.
After all, there are contractual restrictions.
But if Ian were to send the corpse of the God of War, the guardian of the tomb, to fight him one-on-one, Merlin felt that his chances of getting breakfast the next morning were slim.
"You don't actually think I'm trying to lure you in here to kill you, do you?" Ian noticed why the other person's emotions were so unusual. He was very dissatisfied that after spending more than ten hours together, the other person still hadn't seen through his character.
"Forehead--"
In response to Ian's questioning.
Merlin shook his head vigorously, like a rattle-drum. "Of course not. You are a senior from ten thousand years ago, the pioneer of the wizarding path, a mountain that countless wizards can never cross. You would never stoop to the level of a child like me who is not even a hundred years old. I really never intended to take even a single grain of sand from here."
"I just want to follow the path you once walked—." As it turns out, when pushed to the limit, even the Wizard King will not care about his shamelessness.
What does it mean to be a child under 100 years old?
Ian was utterly helpless.
What a magical scene this is.
The characters introduced in the textbooks were full of flattery and acted like they were terrified. This really shattered my positive image of them. The degree of shattering was roughly equivalent to Wang Meng meeting Li Ming.
Who would have thought?
The little wizard couldn't have come up with that.
He himself had become the insurmountable mountain Merlin had described. Just a few days ago, Merlin had said that Merlin was a mountain.
"I'm not lying to you, I really am only twelve years old." Ian couldn't help but roll his eyes, correcting Merlin's slander against him; he was the real child.
Ok.
Well, how should I put it?
These people are all incredibly shameless. How can the age of a time traveler be considered in their past life?
"Yes, that's right, I know—" - You say he's twelve, so he's twelve." Merlin didn't believe Ian's words at all; he had gone to great lengths to study Medivh.
This is a figure who was active at many points in history.
Twelve years old?
You need to make him believe this.
It would be better to convince him that the raven, the only one in history more active than Medivh, had reformed. Here, the "yin" in "raven" is a descriptive word, not a noun. Merlin couldn't help but recall his childhood experience; he had spent slightly more time studying that legendary creature than Medivh.
"Madiwen is my future, and I thought you would easily understand this situation for me."
The tomb hasn't been built yet, but that doesn't stop me from existing here alongside it.
"One of my teachers did a similar experiment, where multiple versions of myself existed at the same point in time. That's why I'm curious whether my future is really sleeping in there."
Ian composed himself, sighed, and said to Merlin, "Don't worry, you are very important in history. Even if I wanted to trick you, I couldn't kill you."
This is Ian's understanding of fate.
Merlin heard this.
He remained silent, only looking up at the figure on the floating throne.
"I don't even know why I'm here." Ian also looked up at the awakened God of War, Ares. Apart from lacking any life force, this god really didn't look like a dead person.
Perhaps the understanding of death and the physical form of the body differs between gods and humans.
"Could it be that the creature has become intelligent and sentient?" Ian thought to himself, and then he couldn't help but think of Ares's awakening speech earlier, and his expression gradually became strange.
The concept of a spirit being born from a human body and the sentence I just mentioned both come from the same literary work.
"What did you just say? What did we agree on?" Ian shouted, trying to get information about the mysterious tomb from Ares, the god of war.
however.
Upon hearing this, the silent God of War, Ares, merely glared at him angrily. "Of course, it's what you promised me! We agreed that you sold me the intellectual property rights to the phrase 'If you don't worship a god, your true destiny is lost; your name will be on the Reincarnation Stele.' Only I can say it, but you just violated my intellectual property rights!"
"You also said that intellectual property rights are inviolable!" Good grief, Ares, the God of War, was truly furious, but the reason for his anger was really hard to contain.
Even the suspicious Merlin couldn't help but twitch as he frequently glanced at the little wizard.
■
Ian was speechless.
He did get some information, but it wasn't the information he wanted at all. Selling intellectual property rights? What the hell? A fantasy version of traveling back to ancient times and selling Tang poetry?
"You didn't stay here all this time just for this reason, did you?" Ian couldn't help but ask.
He felt that this might actually be a way for him to scam people.
"Ha, how could that be?"
Fortunately, Ares, the God of War, wasn't as foolish as Ian imagined. He wasn't the rich man's foolish son. "I'm guarding something else; your tomb is just something I did on the side."
He was even vague and didn't mention what he was guarding. It's unclear whether it was because he couldn't even tell Medivh, or because of Merlin, an "outsider."
"Is it really a tomb?"
Ian grasped the key point, which was somewhat unusual.
"Am I really dead?"
He looked at Ares, the god of war, on the throne, but unexpectedly, Ares not only failed to provide any useful information, but also curled his dry lips and angrily rebuked the little wizard.
"Don't ask me. I'm just a corpse. I can't figure out your schemes and tricks. Oh, right, I remember now. Athena told me not to talk to you anymore."
"You are best at manipulating others with words."
Done.
Ares, the god of war, simply closed his eyes again, as if he had transformed back into a dry, cold body, sitting motionless on his throne. His flesh and blood were withered but not decayed.
It remained firmly attached to the bone.
"Wake up, don't believe it. Athena must have eaten garlic. How about we chat for a few more minutes? How about five dollars? I can pay you a few awesome intellectual property rights."
Ian attempts to awaken Ares, the god of war, who has closed his eyes.
however.
Ares, the Goddess of War, completely ignored him, as if she were dead. Well, she really was dead.
"Damn it."
Ian looked up helplessly at the floating palace. The ancient palace, bathed in shimmering light, floated in the shadows, exuding a majestic aura that captivated the soul.
It looks like it cost a fortune.
"We still have to go in and take a look." Ian took out his wand and waved it. Transfiguration created a staircase that led to the sky. He walked up and looked back, only to see Merlin still standing there.
It was as if my feet were rooted to the ground.
He showed absolutely no intention of going in. In fact, he even turned back to try and find the missing bridge, but even with his prophetic abilities at their peak, he still couldn't find a way to escape.
"Let's go."
Ian urged.
Merlin remained unmoved, like a mountain.
"I have no interest in tomb raiding, and I don't like it."
His will to survive seems to still be at work.
Ian had a headache.
"Consider this an invitation to my home." Ian wanted to use Merlin as a precaution against any potential security measures, so he certainly couldn't leave Merlin alone outside.
There might still be some dogs here.
However, they were indeed cautious.
"Where would you invite someone to your own tomb as a guest?" Merlin's eyes twitched a few more times; this unusual invitation was really making him feel a little uneasy.
"Really, I might even have set up a banquet inside, inviting tomb raiders to sit down and eat and drink. You have no idea how generous I am!"
Ian was trying to fool Merlin.
Merlin, on the other hand, showed an unwavering attitude.
no way.
"You know, Ares, the god of war, loves to eat people. If I turn around and leave, he'll definitely eat you to regain his power." Ian could only speak in a sinister tone.
How can this not be called a threat?
Ian felt that he couldn't actually command Ares, the god of war.
But Merlin didn't know that.
This move was indeed remarkably effective. Merlin merely glanced at Ares' massive body, and the next instant, he appeared beside Ian.
The little wizard couldn't even see how this guy moved.
"Actually, I've already found what I'm looking for." Merlin sighed helplessly, revealing the main reason why he didn't want to move forward. His words surprised Ian quite a bit.
"What?"
He asked the question.
Just then, as the two walked up the stairs, before Merlin could even answer, suddenly...
Then the voice of Ares, the god of war, rang out again.
"One step, one bow; on the path to rebirth, your sins are halved; may your true spirit be protected." A resounding voice echoed throughout heaven and earth.
Who would have thought that Ares, the God of War, was actually a chuunibyou (a person with delusions of grandeur)?
Ian knew this guy hadn't gone into hiding at all!
I didn't expect to be waiting here!
Facing the voice of Ares, the god of war, which sounded like he was announcing rules to a visitor, Ian rolled his eyes and snapped, "Screw your kowtow! You should be thinking about where your true spirit has gone!"
The throne was indeed occupied only by a corpse.
There is no true spirit of the God of War.
"Run, Archmage!"
Ian ran incredibly fast, reaching the palace gate in one breath, as if afraid he might be too slow.
You'll hear the God of War say things like, "Even if I'm carrying your tomb with one hand, I'll still do this and that." To be honest, if Ian wasn't truly speechless, he wouldn't want to comment on a god's corpse.
That's incredibly disrespectful.
"It's not cold here."
Ian looked around. The two of them were already in front of the palace, which could be considered as being deep into the "clouds". Only the boundless shadows covered the palace.
Countless gray-black wisps of mist surged and billowed. Only when one was in the midst of them could one see these shadows sometimes coalescing and sometimes dispersing, with countless shadows condensing into different shapes.
Some resembled swarms of black moths curled up in a ball, with fragments of torn parchment still clinging to their wings; others looked like rotting dragons, each scale flowing with a black mist resembling tar.
Most horrifying were the shadows that resembled human silhouettes, maintaining a posture of painful struggle, with bones that had been gnawed away barely visible beneath their translucent skin.
"That's too sneaky."
Ian was not too keen on such a sanity-destroying art style.
"They—no, it's it—" Merlin's breathing quickened as his gaze swept over the shadows.
His pupils contracted sharply as he stared intently at the shadows.
"It's the Silent Mist Demon!"
His voice was filled with an unbelievable shock.
Ian raised an eyebrow upon hearing this.
"The Silent Mist Demon?"
He heard the name of this creature again, and the shadow that filled the sky in front of him was indeed similar to the Silent Mist Demon he had encountered before, but those Silent Mist Demons were not this huge!
The little wizard noticed that Merlin corrected the statement once, using "it" instead of "them"!
"The Silent Mist Demon is an extremely mysterious creature. They feed on memories and history. The weak devour memories, while the strong distort history. Such a behemoth, I simply cannot imagine what kind of history could have nurtured it!" Merlin's eyes were full of astonishment and uncertainty.
He turned and stared intently at the little wizard.
"What did you do?"
The Wizard King no longer cared about his own life; he was genuinely shocked and certain that the person before him had distorted extremely important history along with the Silent Mist Demon.
The larger and more important the history, the more it can nurture the enormous Silent Mist Demon. And now, Merlin can't even imagine what kind of history this Silent Mist Demon has devoured and distorted!
"You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask? If I knew, would I still be here with you to raid tombs?" Ian was actually quite shocked and became increasingly curious about the future.
Merlin opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn't say anything. Perhaps he believed the little wizard's words, or perhaps his survival instinct had taken over his mind again.
Only he himself knows.
"Perhaps the answer lies within."
Ian looked at the magnificent palace before him. The palace gates were tightly closed, covered with intricate runes, clearly sealed by some powerful barrier.
"Maybe."
Merlin took a deep breath to calm himself. He couldn't help but stare at the overwhelming shadow in the sky, but after waiting for a while, he didn't see the little wizard make any move.
Why aren't you opening the door?
Merlin turned his head with some suspicion.
Ian raised an eyebrow, giving him a matter-of-fact look: "Isn't this the job of a prophet? Aren't you a prophet? Our contract states that you're responsible for these difficult questions."
His words left Merlin speechless once again.
"You never said this was your home!"
Merlin gritted his teeth and spat out a sentence full of frustration.
"First of all, I didn't know you were coming here in the first place, and secondly—you didn't ask either, did you?" Ian blinked, his innocent expression making Merlin want to punch him.
Who the hell could have imagined this situation?
Before robbing a tomb, do you even ask your partner if the tomb is yours?
You're insane!
Merlin's chest heaved for a moment, his expression shifting before settling on helplessness. "Let me study it. This may take some time."
He began to decipher the magical runes on the gate.
"How long will it take?"
Ian was also feeling around on the door.
"One day, two days? The runes here are very complicated." Merlin wasn't sure either, but he was quite confident that he could decipher them, since his Dao heart hadn't been shattered yet.
"It seems I am the truly capable prophet." Ian stopped in front of the recess in the door, took out his wand, and inserted it directly into the recess.
"Thump," "Thump," "Thump"
as predicted.
Just as he thought.
The door immediately received the key's activation. A dull thud echoed, like a heart pounding violently, while the surrounding shadows churned and boiled like magma.
However, no attack was launched.
"boom!"
The palace shook.
It looked like a vast army was galloping.
The enormous portal slowly opened, revealing a dazzling light. Five-colored divine light flashed, and the intense light flickered, making the sky seem to tremble.
"That's not a prophecy."
Merlin took a few steps back and sighed softly.
"How can a plan that foresees one's own future not be a prophecy? Archmage, do you not understand prophecy?" Ian's suspicious gaze made Merlin feel as if a million alpacas were stampeding through his mind.
His sigh was very heavy.
"Then let's leave it at that."
Faced with such fallacies and heresies, how could the Wizarding King respond? Merlin was filled with regret; if he hadn't wandered around while waiting for King Uther, he wouldn't have encountered this fellow.
If I hadn't met this guy, I wouldn't have so hastily come to explore this place, and if I hadn't so hastily come to explore this place, I would never have encountered such suffering.
Hey.
In the end, I shouldn't have brought King Uther today!
Merlin was extremely annoyed.
Ian's emotions were completely different. Seeing Merlin pass on his knowledge as a language master, he immediately smiled and even patted the impossible dust off Merlin's shiny body.
"Remember to include this in your autobiography."
There's a reason behind such a gesture of kindness. Ian felt that with Merlin's approval, who would dare say he lacked talent? Did they even know what it meant to have the Wizard King's personal approval?
"good......"
Merlin shook his head as he looked at the man's smug expression, but he felt a sense of relief—the fact that the man wanted him to go out and write his autobiography must prove that he could still get out alive.
"Boom!"
A tremendous roar echoed all around, and the door was suddenly knocked open, revealing its interior, from which an ancient and mysterious aura rushed out.
The palace's interior was far more spacious than it appeared from the outside, as if one had entered a separate world. The towering dome was inlaid with countless luminous gems, like stars in the night sky. The floor was paved with smooth black stone slabs, each step creating a faint ripple.
It felt as magical as walking on water.
but.
Even so, stepping inside, one can still feel a sense of emptiness. There are no burial objects inside the palace, just as Ian had predicted.
of course.
There were also unexpected events.
This really is a tomb.
The most captivating element of the entire palace for him was the coffin located in the center; it wasn't suspended in mid-air.
It didn't flicker; it just sat there like a very old, ordinary object.
Ancient and quiet.
Above the coffin, a line of runic text, emitting a faint glow, floated in the air. The text slowly rotated in the air, as if it were alive. The two people who stepped on it looked at the text.
Death is a great gift.
The words shimmered and gleamed.
"What do you mean?"
Ian was quite confused after seeing this line of text.
"You're asking me?"
Merlin was speechless.
"Open the coffin, Archmage."
Ian took a deep breath. His fingers unconsciously tightened around his wand, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force. How could he not be nervous facing what seemed to be his final resting place?
"it is good."
Merlin glanced at Ian, saw the little wizard's intentions, and did not refuse. He raised his hand, whispered a few incantations, and cast several layers of protective magic on himself.
immediately.
Only then did he slowly walk to the coffin. However, after a careful inspection, Merlin was astonished to find that there was no magical energy emanating from the coffin, not even the simplest protective spell. Undeterred, he carefully examined the surroundings again, trying to find any possible traces of magic or traps.
The result was still no gain.
The coffin is right there.
It looks like an ordinary wooden box.
Merlin frowned, glancing back at Ian several times with a look of confusion and bewilderment. Ian, however, simply stood there, his gaze fixed on the coffin as if waiting for something.
"That's strange."
After muttering something under his breath, Merlin largely believed Ian's previous information about his identity. He turned to face the coffin.
He placed both hands on the coffin lid and pushed hard.
"Splash~"
The coffin lid wasn't as heavy as he'd imagined; in fact, it was surprisingly light. As the lid slowly slid open, Merlin's gaze fell inside the coffin.
"Um?"
The next second, his body suddenly stiffened, and the expression on his face froze instantly. Seeing Merlin remain motionless, Ian felt an increasingly strong sense of unease rising within him.
"What's inside?"
The young wizard asked.
Merlin didn't answer, remaining in that stiff posture as if frozen in place by something.
"Speak? Petrified?"
Ian became highly vigilant, suspecting that Merlin had already fallen victim to the poison. He even began to wonder if, if Merlin was gone, he would have to transform into Merlin's likeness and take over Merlin's history.
And at that very moment.
"×&%￥#@、￥#@SN☆548%！$#71~&%！$#&%￥" Without warning, Merlin suddenly started cursing.
This immediately relieved the young wizard, but also piqued his curiosity. What had Merlin seen that made him curse so vehemently, even more so than when he was about to collapse?!
"What is that?"
Ian strode forward and peered into the coffin. There was indeed a corpse inside, but it was completely mismatched with the coffin, which was large enough to fit a person 1.9 meters tall.
The body was very small.
It's probably only about the size of a baby.
"what?"
Ian was stunned.
All I saw was...
The corpse's feathers were as black as night, with a faint luster, as if they had just fallen from the night sky. They were not dry, and time had not affected them at all.
"How can I be a bird!"
Yes.
Ian saw a multicolored black raven.