Aozaki Aoko [565-567] (Patreon)

Chapter 565: The Ballroom

According to the map Aoko obtained earlier, the central spire area is Zone 19.

But this Zone 19 is much larger and more complex than the other zones, so Aoko subdivided it into sections like "19a, 19b," etc., to make things easier to manage.

The main gate to the central tower is located at what Aoko calls "Zone 19a," not too far from where they held their ritual.

To pass through the final two layers of force field shields, the only option was to use disintegration magic to break them. But as soon as an opening was created in the force fields, they would rapidly self-repair—so figuring out a way to jam them became the key.

Aoko first used a fully-chanted and gestured Disintegrate to break the first barrier, creating a large hole. Then she immediately cast a triple metamagic Disintegrate to punch through the second barrier.

The edges of this opening started repairing themselves visibly fast. Without pausing, Aoko and her companions stood close together—just a small move and they'd be touching.

As Aoko's party was about to dash through the breach, the repair suddenly accelerated. Aoko's eyes narrowed—just as expected. She immediately cast another triple metamagic spell: Resilient Sphere.

The force sphere enveloped all of them inside. The rapidly repairing shield was momentarily jammed by the sphere for a few seconds before emitting a teeth-grinding screech and squeezing the force sphere inside the shield.

Aoko immediately dispelled the force sphere. The group tumbled out in a heap.

Climbing off the now-younger Holga, Aoko had to admit that when this barbarian woman was young, her muscles had both elasticity and firmness—the tactile sensation was… not bad. Of course, Aoko's face remained expressionless, showing not the slightest ripple of emotion.

Simon wasn't so lucky—his arm got jabbed by a chair leg attached to Doric's head and was now bleeding profusely. Aoko quickly cast Cure Light Wounds to patch him up.

Once everyone was back in order, they looked up at the two interconnected spires. The nearest was the central spire, the lair of the arch-lich Iriolarthas and his Tower of Necromancy.

But rather than a tower, it was more like a complex, towering fortress. Aoko could see a massive stone pillar stretching from Zone 6, with a road leading up to the castle's highest level. Purple light shone from the top rooms—someone might be there.

The main gate was open. After renewing their protective spells, Aoko's group advanced inside. The moment they stepped through the giant archway, they were met by a nightmarish guardian, who greeted them telepathically and politely:

"Unauthorized visitors, please vacate this area immediately."

That's what the guardian said, but Aoko had no intention of wasting words on a doorkeeper. She instantly used Arcane Empowerment from her Midnight staff to get a free spell slot and cast Banishment, banishing the creature to another plane.

"Quick," Aoko urged, "Banishment only lasts a few minutes, even extended. We have to move out of its patrol range!"

She didn't destroy it outright, fearing that its destruction would alert the tower's master and trigger the alarm system.

Judging by the lack of alarm after the banishment, her choice was correct.

Aoko's party rushed from the foyer in Zone 19a into Zone 19 proper—the ballroom area.

She didn't know why a dried-up old lich like Iriolarthas would build a ballroom in his mage tower, but here it was. Elegant music echoed in the grand hall; crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting shifting light.

About a dozen people in flowing silks, holding masks and feathered fans, strolled about—utterly out of place compared to the desolate, icy exterior of the tower. It was like being transported back to the decadent, extravagant heyday of Netheril.

Noble courtiers and beautiful dancers chatted merrily; laughter occasionally rang out. Servants carried silver trays with drinks and desserts to every corner.

But neither Aoko nor her companions were fooled. They watched the vivid scene warily, for not a single person in the ballroom noticed their arrival—even as they walked right to the dance floor's center.

Aoko looked around, then snapped her fingers and cast Dispel Magic.

Like a dream fated to shatter, the once-flourishing projections vanished as the magic faded, revealing the room's true face.

It was a frost-covered ruin. Furniture lay in disarray. Upon the dance floor where nobles once danced, three glass vats with steel fittings floated, each containing a swollen human brain in murky liquid—polluted by the brains' metabolic waste.

"Brains in a jar," Aoko observed coolly, watching the three Netherese wizards still immersed in telepathic communion. "Remember that book we found on making brains-in-a-jar in the spire? Looks like aside from creating mind flayers, these people found another way to extract their own brains..."

"These things... are undead!" Simon said in shock after careful inspection. "If they could just turn their bodies undead, why go this far?"

"Probably to remain in their illusions of the past," Aoko commented. "The jar-brain technique isn't about undeath; it's about living in mental illusions. These mages stopped caring about the real world long ago."

Everyone expressed incomprehension at abandoning reality like this. But as a modern person, Aoko could, in a way, understand their choice.

If the alternative was facing your monstrous, degenerate kin in the buried city of Ythryn every day, wouldn't it be better to remain forever in the beautiful illusions of your mind, reliving the glory days of the Netherese Empire?

Of course, understanding didn't mean she approved. In fact, Aoko most despised those who couldn't face reality.

Chapter 566: The Awake Brain-in-a-Jar

Aoko's group surveyed the area and found that the ballroom was connected to six rooms. Excluding the security room where the nightmarish guardian had been, five rooms remained to explore.

After a quick discussion, they decided to split up and use their communication rune stones to call for help if anything dangerous happened—Aoko would rush over immediately.

Since everyone went to different rooms, Aoko took the one closest to the security room—a recognition of her strength and her own responsibility.

She carefully entered the arched doorway southeast of the ballroom. As she stepped in, the everburning braziers ignited automatically, illuminating the slightly complex corridor.

From the entrance, she could see the route to the security room on her right, but she didn't hear the guardian moving—likely still on watch at the main gate.

Aoko moved forward lightly and, at the second turn, faced her first either-or choice.

There were doors to her left and ahead. Following the rule of proximity, she didn't hesitate and opened the nearest door.

She'd guessed right. This room was a dedicated staff storage, glowing with strong magical auras—six unique staves rested on ornate racks.

"Hoh~?"

Aoko couldn't help but laugh. These staves weren't on par with her Midnight, but as a collector she simply couldn't resist such historic magical items. They'd look great in her own castle someday!

She stepped to the rack, examining each staff while casting Detect Magic to identify their enchantments.

The first was a gray wooden staff adorned with a carved owl—granting 50 feet of darkvision to the wielder.

The second was a polished blue staff, harder than the first, with an octopus at the head. It allowed the caster to Control Water three times per day—a solid but unremarkable storage staff.

The fourth and fifth staves were also wooden, their heads shaped like a carp and a hand gripping a snake, each with a different fixed spell—nothing especially noteworthy.

The third and sixth staves, though, were unlike anything Aoko had seen. The third was made entirely of translucent purple glass, with three branched prongs at the top cradling a light purple glass orb.

Aoko picked up the third staff and examined it closely, eyes widening: it held a permanent eighth-level Divination spell—Locate Creature! (Aoko herself couldn't cast this yet.)

She hadn't expected it—besides her own artifact-level staff, she'd stumbled upon a staff with a permanent 8th-level spell. But due to the material, it wasn't suitable for everyday use.

She carefully stuffed the earlier staves into her extradimensional pocket and focused on the final one.

This last staff was the most special—not just for its material, but also its function.

It was made entirely from Chardalyn crystal. If the Duergar of the Sunblight—or the devil-backed organization—found it, they'd stop at nothing to seize it.

As she held the staff, Aoko immediately sensed its magic was vastly more powerful and with much greater storage capacity.

While holding it, the user was completely immune to fear and poison. And thanks to the Chardalyn, it could serve as a reusable blank spell scroll.

What's most valuable these days?

Freedom!

This Netherese Chardalyn staff let the caster store any spell they wanted and use it repeatedly.

If auctioned in a major city like Waterdeep, it could fetch a truly staggering price.

Aoko marveled at how rich the Netherese arcanists must've been, and cheerfully stuffed the Chardalyn staff into her pocket, not the least bit worried or guilty.

Just joking—if she saw it, it's hers! She found it, she keeps it!

She didn't plan to tell her teammates about this staff either, since it could breed resentment—and resentment is bad. She'd bear the burden of hoarding this treasure alone!

"Hello? Hello?" Simon's voice came through the communication stone. "I found an elevator to the upper levels—just north of the ballroom."

"Copy that," Aoko replied calmly. "Wait for us back in the ballroom. I have one more room to search." Exiting the staff storage, Aoko went to the last room in her area.

She pushed open the door and found herself in a laboratory.

Bathed in shifting green, purple, and blue lights, a huge, complex alchemical apparatus was fixed to the table. Around it were beakers, distillers, crystal needles, surgical tools, and leather tubing.

Behind the apparatus stood an ornate yet terrifying suit of armor, gripping a giant sword as tall as a person.

Where the helmet should have been was instead a glass jar filled with orange liquid, inside which floated a swollen brain.

"Intruder?"

A voice echoed in Aoko's mind—clearly from the armored brain jar.

"Just an explorer," Aoko answered cautiously. "Who are you?"

"I see..." The brain-armored figure mused. "I am Vinelanda, an arcanist under Master Iriolarthas."

"If someone like you has made it into Ythryn, then it means it's been a very long time since the city fell," Vinelanda said. "Can you tell me what's happened in the outside world since Ythryn's fall?"

Hmm?

Aoko was a bit surprised. The brains-in-jars in the ballroom obviously didn't care to face the truth and wallowed in past memories, but this armored brain, Vinelanda, was perfectly aware of Ythryn's fate.

Judging by the equipment in this room, Vinelanda's status in ancient Ythryn must have been high.

Chapter 567: The Black Obelisk

Since this mechanically ascended Netherese arcanist wasn't the type Aoko despised—one who lies to herself and lives in dreams—and seemed willing to talk, Aoko didn't mind a chat. After all, she was quite curious about the true state of the Netherese Empire.

Aoko recounted all she knew about the fall of Ythryn and the subsequent destruction of Netheril over the centuries. Vinelanda didn't go mad—she merely listened quietly, occasionally asking questions.

"I see…" Vinelanda paced the lab in her enormous armor, muttering, "No wonder I couldn't cast spells for a while—I thought the mythallar core was faulty, but it was the Weave exploding?"

Aoko didn't interrupt, sensing Vinelanda was thinking deeply. The process didn't take long; in less than ten minutes, Vinelanda returned to her seat and looked at Aoko.

"I have a way to restore Ythryn to its former glory," Vinelanda said. "Will you help me? If we succeed, you'll earn many rewards in this floating city, mage."

"May I know what this method is?" Aoko had her suspicions but wanted to confirm.

"Well... There's a giant obelisk in Ythryn, it can—" Vinelanda was cut off by Aoko.

"I've seen the obelisk," Aoko said. "But it's damaged—there's a huge crack on it."

"It can reverse the time of the whole city—returning things to before the fall," Vinelanda finished, then continued, "The crack doesn't matter—what matters is the key to control it."

"Key?" Aoko frowned. A Netherese artifact that could reverse time couldn't exist without the hand of the goddess of magic—after all, only she created and controls true time travel magic. So what's up with this obelisk?

"It's a staff, called the Staff of Power," Vinelanda explained unhurriedly. "It's stored in Lord Iriolarthas's study. If you can bring it to me, I'll go with you to activate the obelisk."

"Why don't you do this yourself?" Aoko asked.

"Because I'm not as strong as you," Vinelanda admitted. "I have some sense, especially after being trapped here for millennia. And I doubt I could evade Iriolarthas's gaze."

"I can't promise you anything," Aoko shook her head. "If I get the chance, I'll try, but I won't agree to anything upfront. I'm not a legendary spellcaster—I can't take on Iriolarthas."

"Our lord's current strength is highly questionable," Vinelanda cackled. "Though I'm no powerhouse, at least I've preserved myself better than a 'grand mage' who's gone from lich to half-lich."

Half-lich.

Aoko mulled over this info. She knew how half-liches came about: usually, hybrids combine the best of both parent races, but a half-lich isn't a race—it's a lich that, lacking soul energy, becomes a diminished version.

So why would a powerful archmage lich in a floating city lose the ability to replenish soul energy?

Could he have lost his phylactery for all these years and never found it? Hah, how could such a ridiculous thing happen to a great archmage lich? Impossible! Absolutely impossible!

Aoko declined Vinelanda's offer to cooperate and left the so-called "Dissolution Chamber." Vinelanda didn't stop her—she seemed to have a plan of her own and wasn't in a hurry.

Aoko returned to the ballroom and regrouped with her companions, sharing their findings.

She didn't hoard all the staves—she shared three of the wooden ones with her teammates.

Simon chose the Control Water staff, and Doric took the darkvision staff—useful for life in the woods.

"I see... The Staff of Power in the lord's study, and an obelisk that might rewind the city's time?" Edgin mused. "But I have a question—if the city's time really does rewind, wouldn't we youngsters be doomed? Two thousand years ago, we weren't even born!"

"That's one reason I refused Vinelanda," Aoko said. "But even so, I still want that Staff of Power for myself. Dangerous things are safest in my own hands."

"Yeah, being young again is nice, but I don't want to become a fertilized egg!" Holga commented, still shaken.

"By the way, I found this!" Edgin placed a small box before them, beaming. "Guess what it is?"

"Is it a magic storage item, like a Leomund's Secret Chest?" Aoko guessed, eyeing the magic aura.

Edgin wagged his finger, not answering directly. Instead, he opened the box, reached inside, and soon pulled out a steaming, fragrant apple pie!

"Hah, I call it the Wishing Box!" Edgin took a bite, delighted. "It can conjure some small items I wish for, and the food is absolutely delicious!"

"Oh?"

Aoko raised an eyebrow and reached into the box herself, pulling out a piece of chocolate cheesecake.

She looked at it, then took a cautious bite—astonished to find it tasted exactly as she remembered, maybe even better!

"Did you test the value limit for what it can conjure?" Aoko asked. "I suspect it can't be used more than twenty times a day—any more and it might break."

"Hmm... Seems to only manage things worth less than a gold piece," Edgin estimated, pulling out a low-quality knife. "No getting rich off it—but for a family, this box is still a treasure."