Arcane splendor begins with the throne

Chapter 198 Psion
The half-goat Mario turned out to be the legendary hell poet.

Brian looked at the figure on the tower in disbelief.

Mario's long brown hair was fluttering in the wind, a pair of horns bent backwards and two fluffy black hooves were rendered a frightening dark red against the city's flames.

Accompanied by countless screams and killing sounds from the street, he seemed to have really become a devil from Bator Hell.

Brian's heart at this moment was as if seeing a goblin turned into a legendary great arcanist, it was unbelievable.

In fact, true bards are rare in any physical world.

Because they are not singers playing music and singing in taverns, or performers singing and dancing in noble mansions, they can be called bards.

As a wizard, Brian naturally knew that in this world, music and language were not just vibrations in the air, but also a unique force.

Sometimes, certain magical spells of wizards will also borrow the singing of poets to enhance the power of spells.

In this respect, the true bard is the master of singing and speaking magically.

They believe that the multiverse was 'spoken', that the words of the gods gave shape to the multiverse itself, and that the original 'words of creation' still echo in the depths of the universe.

The poet's music is a manipulation of this echo, trying to weave it into the spells and powers he needs.

But if you want to discover the magic hidden in music, in addition to long-term study, the most important thing is your own talent.

Poets with this talent spend almost all their lives traveling around the world.

For it is their nature to travel, to collect anecdotes, to compose new poems to tell, to learn untaught skills.

Because of this, bards look no different from ordinary entertainers.

Only experienced adventurers can tell whether a bard is a true bard by the depth of knowledge, level of musical skill, and touch of magic.

Brian also carefully observed Mario's speech and behavior, and doubted his true identity.

However, he eventually came to the conclusion that the satyr was nothing more than a bard who accidentally came to this world through an unknown portal in Sigil.

Relying on his own race's affinity for poets, he became a real poet. Due to the restrictions of the world's rules, he couldn't release any magic about music.

Who ever thought that the other party was not only a real poet, but also a hellish poet who made people talk about it.

This sudden contrast really surprised him.

From this, it can be seen how deep this guy is hiding. Even the little devil who used to be the Duke of Hell did not see through his true identity.

We all know that the most powerful aspect of the bard class is their wide range of talents.

In battle, they can use magical words and music to inspire their partners, weaken their enemies, manipulate minds, create illusions, and even heal wounds.

Even when teammates need it, they will wear armor, pick up a long sword, and fight with the enemy in close quarters.

It is precisely because of the versatility of the poet profession that it is difficult to produce bards whose strength reaches the legendary level.

In the words of their players: the attributes of poets are too average and all-round. They can fight, resist, recover, and assist. If they want to break through the legend, all their attributes must make breakthrough progress.

Similarly, once bards reach the legendary level, they can not only cast legendary spells like wizards, but even master legendary combat skills like fighters or rogues.

There is no doubt that in the main material world, every bard who has reached the legendary realm is an existence that he can hear well.

However, there are very few records about the hell poets.

In the poems of the hell poets, notes fly, and the smell of decay is accompanied, and death is entangled in the black words, and the mist is mixed with the withering voice.

His thoughts wandered in hell, and inspiration was born in the abyss.

Because of this, the poems written by the hell poets are the hottest, hot enough to burn the soul of the reader, leaving only the cold body.

Because the content of the Psalms is not the darkness that everyone can understand, nor is it the talent that everyone can understand.

When the angel reads it, she will cover her eyes in fear, because she is afraid that the holiness will be polluted.

When the devil reads it, he smiles wildly, though he does not understand what it is about.

No one knows the name of the hell poet, and no one has seen his true face.

Some say that he lives in Sigil, the center of the multiverse, while others say that he was lured by the Lord of Hell and hid in the ninth floor of Baator Hell.

Some even say that the hell poet has fallen into a state of madness for the sake of perfect art.

It is not clear whether Brian is crazy or not, but seeing the other party appearing here, his doubts about the hell poet have been confirmed to a certain extent.

It is said that the Hell Poet is composing a poem that truly belongs to him. No one knows its specific name.

For this reason, he did not hesitate to pay a huge price to create many avatars, allowing them to travel in various material planes, just to find inspiration for creation.

It is hard to imagine what kind of power he will display if his poems are successfully created.

After all, in the deep, vast, and boundless multiverse, there are many unimaginable mysterious powers, and there are even some realms that exist that even the gods cannot predict.

Brian, who regained his senses, heard the poet playing and singing again.

He heard the melodious harp accompanied by an affectionate chant, like the drizzle in early spring, slowly spreading into the depths of his heart.

He raised his head subconsciously, staring at the pitch-black sky, as if there was something in the darkness that attracted him.

Looking at the deep darkness, he couldn't help falling into the carefree childhood in the Blackman Forest more than 20 years ago.

He saw the trees that looked like saplings gradually enlarged in his pupils until they became a verdant forest.

He smelled the fragrance of soil and wild flowers after the rain, heard the birdsong of larks in the morning, and the laughter of his partners...

In this brief silence, he suddenly had a jolt, waking up from the singing by virtue of his own strong will.

The pain of broken muscles and bones in his chest rushed over, and the discomfort in his throat made him cough out as if to vent, but he knew that with the severe coughing, his injury would become more serious.

Brian quickly adjusted his inaudible breathing, resisted the music that affected his mind, and looked around.

He saw all the mercenaries around him being attracted by Mario's singing, and even heard faint sobbing.

Faintly, the poet's strong sadness resonated with him again, making him recall his past involuntarily.

In the sad music, Brian felt as if he had lost one of the most important things, which made him very sad, because some lost things can never be retrieved, and it will only leave this fiery emotion with nowhere to vent...

In an instant, the blackness of night swirled and twisted before him, pulling him into a forest ablaze with flames.

He saw an elf mother with a baby in her arms, and felt an inexplicable heartache as she walked towards the flames step by step...

Brian bit the tip of his tongue violently, and the pain brought him back to reality again.

The poet's soft voice hides the bone-chilling coldness, and the song reaches its climax in conjunction with the sobbing sounds around it.

"Pfft!"

At this moment, the sound of sharp blades piercing flesh came to his ears.

Where his eyes touched, a thin human mercenary drew out a dagger cleanly, pierced his heart, and fell to the ground contentedly.

There was a relieved smile on the corner of his mouth from beginning to end.

"boom!"

The head of a half-orc mercenary flew into the sky, fell to the ground, and stopped slowly after turning around a dozen times. There was still a smile on his ugly face, and tears were still flowing from his empty eye sockets.

In the screams of grief, accompanied by blood and tears on the face, most people were addicted to the poet's singing and couldn't extricate themselves.

……

A stream of blood splattered.

Within the range covered by the singing, whether it was mercenaries, soldiers, or civilians, one after another fell to the ground and died.

Brian felt that the terrible singing was still affecting his mind.

He resisted the pain in his body, closed his eyes intently, put away all disturbances, and used spells to summon a gray war horse.

Then he climbed onto the horse with difficulty and urged the horse to leave here quickly.

With his gradually disappearing back, the singing began to weaken slowly, and he didn't feel relieved until he completely got rid of the poet's singing.

The night was low and dark.

The cold night wind whizzed past on the street, and Brian instantly felt the bone-chilling chill coming from his whole body, which made him shrink back subconsciously.

Immediately, bursts of tearing pain came out of nowhere, almost making him faint.

He was riding on the bumpy horseback, and even heard the sound of his broken ribs rubbing against each other.

Brian sucked in air from time to time, wiping the blood spilling from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve.

He is already aware of the serious condition of his body, so he must leave here as soon as possible and find a safe place to recuperate.

He slowed down his mount, joined the chaotic crowd, and ran towards the east gate of Abrera City.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who knew the best escape route.

Soon, the group of civilians who successfully escaped from the residential area finally arrived near the east gate of Abrera City.

However, seeing that there were no defenders nearby, and the silence was a bit terrifying, Brian immediately became extremely cautious.

Because he didn't think Abrera's top brass would have missed the issue, leading to the successful escape of these civilians outside the city.

The most important thing is that these civilians arrived unimpeded in the process of passing through the East City Gate, without any symbolic obstruction.

This made him have to be careful.

"Boom!"

As the door was pushed open by several strong dwarves, it made a dull loud noise.

These civilians, who seemed to see hope, turned into a raging tide, scrambling to escape to the outside of the city.

Brian didn't follow immediately. Although the physical injury made him look shaky, his brain was extraordinarily clear at this time.

He sat on his horse with a cold eye, quietly watching the civilians fleeing frantically towards the outside of the city.

Even if a few unlucky ones were trampled to death by the crowd, he had absolutely no intention of helping them.

Just when the group of civilians were about to walk out of the city, he endured the tearing pain in his chest and drove his horse to follow.

The moment he walked out of the city, an ominous premonition filled his heart without warning.

At this moment, countless torches that were instantly lit suddenly appeared outside the city.

The bright flames formed a long line, almost piercing the entire low night.

"There is an ambush!"

In the chaotic crowd, a sharp-eyed dwarf screamed in fear.

His scream seemed to be a sign of an order, and countless dull bowstrings sounded almost simultaneously.

In the blink of an eye, the overwhelming rain of arrows drew an arc and poured down, drowning the screaming crowd.

The sound of sharp arrows piercing through flesh and blood was heard from time to time, and countless civilians fell to the ground and died in wailing.

Under the baptism of the first round of arrow rain, this group of civilians, which numbered more than 300, suffered one-third of the casualties.

Brian, who was at the end, survived the crisis unharmed due to the distance.

Seeing the miserable scene in front of him, he stared indifferently at the distant flames.

Vaguely, he heard the sound of rumbling horseshoes coming from inside the city gate.

Soon, this voice spread to everyone's ears, completely dispelling their plan to flee back to the city.

The sound of rumbling horseshoes seemed to be trampling heavily on everyone's hearts, trampling them to the deepest part of the trough one after another.

They could only look at the pursuers and the blockers in front of them in despair, at a loss.

This time, Brian didn't stand idly by.

Because he knew that if he was not careful, he might die because of it, and he also needed to break out of the encirclement.

He held the rein with one hand, changed the spell posture with the other, and murmured spells in a soft voice.

——"Second Ring Spell: Breeze Wind!"

The moment the last syllable was pronounced, a breeze floated across the dry surface, and no one noticed the slight change in the air.

Brian, who controls the magic energy, has already used "Arcane Recall" in advance to replenish his exhausted arcane energy.

Without hesitation, he simultaneously activated divine-like spellcasting and the metamagic specialty "Spell Empowerment".

In an instant, a gust of wind fell from the sky, sweeping everything around.

The rain of arrows galloping in the night changed its flight trajectory instantly and flew around in the strong wind.

The howling wind whipped up yellow sand all over the sky.

The civilians who saw hope got into the range of the strong wind, and took advantage of the wind to rush desperately towards the encirclement of the Tasha people.

They had to do it because it was their only hope of escape.

——"Three-ring spell: Fireball!"

Bryan cast a spell again, a bright fireball dragged its tail flame, smashed into the cavalry troops near the city gate, and erupted with a loud noise enough to shake the ground.

Afterwards, he gritted his teeth and resisted the excruciating pain of the broken muscles and bones rubbing against each other, stabilized his body that almost fell off the horse's back, and drove the horse towards the encirclement in front of him.

He saw them all shouting in the night, and the enemy was coming towards them from all sides.

A felled elf was surrounded by two soldiers, the sword rose and fell, and a bearded dwarf who successfully snatched the weapon rushed up immediately, chopped down the two soldiers, and was stabbed through the abdomen by the soldiers who came after him with a spear...

The scuffle continued.

Bryan trampled over a soldier with his steed, and the horseshoe made of fine steel kicked another soldier in the face, making a disgusting rattling sound.

In the melee, he held the rein with one hand to stabilize his body balance so as not to fall off the horse, and swung his long sword with the other, slashing at the Black Rose Army gathered around him, causing a bloodbath.

Protected by the protective force field, he successfully cut a bloody path, rushed out of the crowd, and started galloping on horseback.

A captain in full armor tried to block his way, but he hit his helmet with a sword, and the impact made him gasp.

The captain who blocked the way staggered and knelt down, his helmet cracked in two, and blood flowed from the eye-catching wound on the top of his head.

Brian on horseback was so painful that he couldn't open his eyes, and almost lost consciousness several times. He looked at the approaching woods, but he couldn't feel happy at all.

Because he could feel a large group of cavalry behind him, approaching at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Suddenly, the whistling sound of a sharp arrow came from the forest.

Immediately afterwards, his mount kicked up painfully and threw him into the mud pile.

Brian only felt a sharp pain, and he saw the surrounding forest suddenly began to dance, until the thick blood came from his mouth, which made him regain consciousness.

He tried to get up, but fell down feebly, and tried his best not to scream.

The cavalry not far away was approaching quickly, Brian stopped trying to struggle, but sat on the ground, gritted his teeth and took out two magic scrolls from his pocket, staring coldly at the approaching cavalry.

There were probably more than 30 of them, and his magic scroll was enough to wipe them all out.

Brian sat under the low night, clutching two magic scrolls, and subconsciously raised his head to glance at the sky.

I don't know when, the moon has quietly appeared from the clouds, shining with bright moonlight.

He clearly felt its gentle light shining on him, and it was still pulsating.

In this inexplicable atmosphere, Brian sensed something was wrong.

At this time, he suddenly found that an elegant and noble woman was standing in front of him.

Her loose long hair shines with silver brilliance, and her radiant eyes contain the light of wisdom and heart.

She was slender and curvaceous, wearing a snow-white dress made of the finest silk, and a shimmering crescent moon pendant hung on her fair neck, hanging perfectly on her chest.

This otherworldly elf beauty stood in front of him, staring at him, with sincere sympathy flashing in her eyes, as if she could read every thought in his heart and completely understand his mood at the moment.

Psion!

There was a look of surprise in Brian's eyes, he recognized the identity of the unexpected guest, and slowly let go of his hanging heart.

He saw this female elf whom he was familiar with but now unfamiliar with, gracefully raising her slender hands. On her wrists was a string of well-made psionic wristbands, each with a small Azure crystal.

The clear azure crystal flashes a soothing light of the soul.

Brian felt a calming warm current rushing through his body. The pain and stiffness in his body immediately disappeared without a trace, and his spirit returned to a state of stability and contentment.

So, he fell asleep in peace.

The pursuing cavalry arrived.

"you……"

The leading cavalry captain reined in his horse and was about to yell at him when a sharp arrow pierced his throat mercilessly. His body shook a few times on the horse's back, and he fell to the ground lifelessly.

A sharp arrow screamed out from the dark forest, drawing a long and slow arc.

They seemed to be gliding slowly in the air, until the moment they hit, the speed and strength did not increase at all, but each arrow hit the target accurately, and the cavalry fell off their horses in wailing.

The survivors yelled and lashed their mounts, scrambling to turn the horse's head and gallop.

However, not far away, the bushes on both sides suddenly surged and grew wildly, and the forest path turned into an airtight thorny forest wall covered with sharp thorns in the blink of an eye.

The cavalry reined in their horses, terrified and flustered, trying to turn their horses around.

But the rain of arrows behind him didn't stop. Accompanied by the sound of hooves, neighing and shouting, sharp arrows pierced through the cavalrymen on horseback one by one.

After a while, the forest returned to silence.

The forest wall blocking the road disappeared, and the blurred outline of the city of Abrera reappeared in front of it.

Under the bright moonlight, a group of elf rangers armed with bows and arrows appeared from the forest.

They have green pupils and light green skin. Their faces are painted with dark green stripes, and their clothes are colorful, made of brown and green leaves and bark.

…………

(End of this chapter)