Chapter 337: Karsus Ascends to Godhood

When Karsus sequestered himself within the mage tower, Garon knew everything was on track. Over the years, he and the Goddess of Magic had subtly instilled the concept of Ascension into Karsus's mind. Though they never spelled it out, merely hinting at it was enough to plant a seed in Karsus's heart.

Karsus knew that the only power capable of annihilating the Murians in one fell swoop belonged to the gods, a power unattainable in the material world. As an archmage, he did not worship deities nor would he seek their aid. If he wanted godly power to save Netheril, he needed Ascension Magic, aimed at usurping the full might of a deity.

Now, they awaited the day he would emerge from seclusion.

"With this young man's nature, he surely wouldn't create Ascension Magic and use it on the Goddess of Magic without discussing it with me first," Garon thought.

Karsus was an archmage, a spellcaster. If he sought divine power, his first target would likely be the Goddess of Magic. This inclination had been evident since he was a child. However, Garon wasn't too worried. The Goddess of Magic, forewarned of the severe consequences of Ascension Magic being used against her, could easily thwart Karsus's attempt, should he act prematurely.

In the valley, the silver dragon closed his eyes slightly, his thick tail gently swaying in the creek as he drifted into deep slumber. On the continent of Faerûn, Garon spent most of his time asleep, a luxury he seldom enjoyed in the primary timeline due to the pressing demands of war. This timeline allowed him to indulge himself fully.

Days passed quietly until Ioelum's message awoke him. Opening his eyes, Garon observed the time projection before him. Time projection, similar to time travel, used the river of time as a medium to project oneself and communicate across planes. If sufficient temporal power was employed, one could even project their force across planes for ultra-long-range attacks.

In the Murian realm, due to their Mana Drain, standard messaging spells failed, leading Ioelum and Garon to devise the time projection spell.

"Aren't you tired of staying with the Murians, given their ugliness by human aesthetic standards?" the silver dragon remarked, shaking his head slightly.

Murians, resembling large, fleshy worms with spiral-toothed maws and deformed limbs, would not survive without their magical nature. Of course, Garon could appreciate certain aesthetic aspects of the Murians like the sheen of their maws or the curvature of their limbs, but he knew these traits were grotesquely advanced by human standards.

"It's bearable; I've grown accustomed to it," Ioelum joked. "Sometimes, I even find them somewhat cute."

Garon, taken aback by Ioelum's reply, then laughed heartily. "It seems I've underestimated your taste."

"Exalted King of the Murians, you can surely choose from the most beautiful Murians at will," Garon teased.

"Don't joke about that," Ioelum responded with a reluctant shake of his head. "I've come with a serious question for you. How is Karsus doing?"

He expressed concern: "I worry that I may have been too harsh during our last encounter. If it cost him his confidence as an archmage, that would be unfortunate."

Ioelum cared deeply for a mage with such potential.

"Oh? It seems you think highly of him," Garon said. "Rest assured, his spirit is still high. He's currently secluded, studying magic and thinking about how to kill you."

Information traveled slowly from the floating cities to the subterranean realm of the Murians, which is why Ioelum had reached out to Garon for an update.

"What's your assessment of this 'Light of Netheril'?" Garon inquired.

After a moment's thought, Ioelum admitted, "His talent is exceptional, making even me feel inadequate."

Ioelum, who had transformed Netheril from a minor northern country into an empire of archmages, had seen countless mages over the millennia. Yet, none had ever impressed him as Karsus did.

When Ioelum was Karsus's age, he had just mastered his first seventh-circle spell and was far from becoming a legend, let alone a grand archmage. In contrast, Karsus had already reached level thirty-four before his thirtieth birthday.

With guidance from Garon and the Goddess of Magic, Karsus's strength had skyrocketed. "His character seems sound as well," Ioelum added. "Once the war calms down, I can confidently entrust Netheril to him. I've sheltered Netheril as the King of Archmages for too long; it's time to abdicate."

Garon nodded seriously but teased, "Then you can retire peacefully and establish your harem in the Murian domain."

Ioelum rolled his eyes at Garon's joke. "If you wish, I can gather some beautiful female Murians for you. I understand dragons appreciate all species' aesthetics, Murians included."

Garon laughed, changing the subject. "Once Karsus creates Ascension Magic, you no longer need to lead the Murians in battle against Netheril."

Their conflict was largely orchestrated to pressure Karsus into developing Ascension Magic. Ioelum, being an archmage, was also curious about this spell. Garon had made it clear his goal was to obtain Ascension Magic, and in exchange, he would help Ioelum achieve his aims.

"However, once you decide to cease hostilities, I wonder how the Lord of the End of All Things will react."

Ioelum furrowed his brow. "With the Goddess of Magic's support and my own spells, I doubt he's discovered my true identity."

Under Ioelum's leadership, the Murians had been advancing victoriously, which was exactly what the Lord of the End of All Things wanted—to see the immortal archmages of Netheril meet their demise.

"But that's irrelevant now; he hasn't achieved his goal."

"He might declare war on Netheril directly."

The development and use of life-extension magic in the world of Faerûn had spanned millennia, and the Lord should have sensed its first use.

But only now had this god of death acted against Netheril, indicating he could not easily annihilate an empire in the material plane.

The Murians had been the ideal executioners, but with their realm secretly under Ioelum's control, finding another force to trouble Netheril was nearly impossible.

The Lord might have to swallow his pride and curse the immortal archmages one by one, or declare war on Netheril directly, using his followers in the material world and divine realm to bring about the empire's end.

In many worlds, he was known as the King of the Walking Dead, the god of undead beings.

Countless undead worshipped him.

Many believed the undead were originally creatures that served death, receiving divine power from him, delaying their own end.

If he, ignoring his status as a lofty deity, directly declared war on a material realm empire like Netheril, they would have little chance

 to resist.

During their conversation, Ioelum's expression grew solemn.

The Murians were never the real enemy.

He knew that the threat from the Lord of the End of All Things was Netheril's greatest challenge.

Should they abandon the life-extension spells? But these spells were the foundation of Netheril. To forsake them would be the empire's de facto end.

Garon smiled slightly. "Don't forget, although Netheril does not worship deities, it still has the backing of a powerful divine force, with whom it shares a fate."

Ioelum had always preferred to rely on the archmages' power alone to confront the god of death.

But how could that be possible? Garon, having observed the river of time, had long realized a fact.

An empire in the material plane without divine protection would sooner or later be destroyed by deities.

The ancient Imaskar Empire was a case in point. Without external intervention, Netheril would meet the same fate.

But Netheril's situation was unique.

Although most of its archmages did not worship the Goddess of Magic, she still valued the empire greatly.

As they spoke, a vast and holy power descended.

Elemental energies converged and swirled in Garon's valley, forming an elemental avatar of the Goddess of Magic.

Both Garon and Ioelum's attention was drawn to her.

Looking at Ioelum's time projection, the Goddess of Magic smiled gracefully and spoke softly, "Ioelum, I have watched you lead Netheril to prosperity and brilliance, making the light of magic shine brightly in this world."

"If you accept my help, then Netheril shall remain unharmed."

"And its future will be even more glorious."

Ioelum looked at the suddenly appearing avatar of the Goddess of Magic, his face tightening.

In the history of Netheril, there had been a great archmage so grievously injured that only divine magic could heal him. Yet, he never stepped foot in a temple until his death. Afterward, archmages developed many healing spells, showing their stance on deities.

However, the Goddess of Magic was the only deity the archmages respected, and given Netheril's inability to handle the god of death alone, Ioelum did not outright refuse but pondered deeply.

"Exalted Goddess of Magic, you should know that ninety-nine percent of archmages will not offer you their faith."

"We never worship deities."

"True archmages only believe in their own power."

Ioelum felt the Goddess of Magic appeared to gain Netheril's faith.

He could not agree to this.

The Goddess of Magic chuckled lightly and said, "The prosperity of magic is the best reward for me; as for faith, it's great if it exists, but I won't insist on it."

She looked at Ioelum and spoke softly, "Ioelum, you need not resist my help."

"Because Netheril is already under my protection."

"For instance, the floating cities operate by drawing power from my magic net, and the spells cast by archmages are based on the magic net I created and maintain. You cannot deny that my power has long been integrated into every aspect of Netheril."

In the divine glow, the Goddess of Magic spoke softly.

"This empire was developed by you, but it is also my child, although this child does not believe in me."

Listening to the Goddess of Magic, Ioelum was momentarily stunned and fell silent.

Her words were true.

The core of the magic net, though created by archmages, essentially drew on the Goddess of Magic's power. It could even be said to be a form of theft.

The floating cities ascended with her tacit consent.

Had it been a less benevolent deity, divine retribution for such an act would have been likely.

"All archmages thus respect you."

After a period of deep contemplation, Ioelum sighed and relaxed somewhat, saying, "Exalted Goddess of Magic, I am willing to accept your help."

"And I promise you that I will establish a temple of the Goddess of Magic in every floating city from now on."

"However, I will not require any floating city to spread your doctrine."

"Whether archmages choose to believe in you will depend solely on their own will. I hope you can understand."

The Goddess of Magic was willing to offer protection to Netheril without demanding anything in return, but Ioelum could not ignore the goodwill of a deity.

Providing some form of reciprocation was necessary.

Over the years, tormented by the hostility of the Lord of the End of All Things, Ioelum gradually realized that Netheril, having developed to such a stage, indeed needed a deity's protection.

After all, this endless world was ultimately under the rule of deities.

If one day Netheril possessed the power to defy any deity, it could rightfully refuse divine assistance. But until then, looking down on divine power without sufficient strength of their own was foolish.

"Well done, I knew you would make a wise choice," the Goddess of Magic said with a slight smile.

Soon after, her elemental avatar dissipated, and Ioelum deactivated the time projection. The deep valley returned to silence, filled only with the thunderous breathing of the dragon.

"Ioelum has changed quite a bit," the silver dragon mused, flicking his tail.

Given Ioelum's inherent pride, he would have never accepted any deity's favor in the past.

But now, knowing his own power was relatively weak compared to that of the deities, Ioelum's inner pride had diminished.

Then, Garon looked up to the sky, his gaze penetrating through layers of space, focusing on Silver Scale City.

Silver Scale City, the Lord Mage's Tower.

The tower, standing at the city's center, had its doors firmly shut, with magical energy rippling within.

Karsus concentrated all his energy there, engaged in arcane research that outsiders would find unfathomable.

As time flowed quietly.

The war between the Murians and Netheril continued.

Although the Murians, who had always been dominant, did not press their offensive too harshly—even as the floating cities began to falter under their Mana Drain—the archmages of Netheril managed to hold on under immense pressure.

During this time, many grand archmages visited Karsus, but none received a response.

The once prominent Light of Netheril gradually faded from the archmages' view, his whereabouts unknown.

The bustling Silver Scale City also grew quieter as the years passed.

As days and nights changed and seasons shifted, eight years passed.

On a foggy day, the streets of Silver Scale City bore a quiet, chilly air, with only a few archmages who steadfastly believed in the Light of Netheril still residing there, making it sparsely populated.

One archmage, always faithful to Karsus, made his usual trip to the central mage tower.

The once-young mage had matured and aged over the eight years.

He looked at the still-sealed doors of the mage tower, sighed imperceptibly, and turned to leave.

His face showed little disappointment; after all, it had been eight years. No one knew how long the Light of Netheril would remain silent, perhaps forever.

However, this time was different.

Just as he turned, not two steps away, the arch

mage froze, a look of incredulous joy spreading across his face.

He sensed a surge of elemental energy.

Such a disturbance usually indicated the presence of a legendary spellcaster.

In today's Silver Scale City, there was only one legendary spellcaster who had shone brightly eight years ago—the youngest grand archmage in the history of the empire, Karsus, the Light of Netheril.

The archmage turned back sharply.

The doors of the mage tower remained firmly closed.

However, following his gaze up the tall tower structure, through the hazy mist, he could vaguely see a figure standing on the open top of the tower.

A man in his thirties with a mature face, a calm demeanor, and deep, wise eyes that seemed to perceive the essence of all things—these features combined to form the current visage of Karsus.

Eight years of secluded study had matured both his appearance and aura.

"You... you've finally appeared."

"Lord of the City, I've always believed that a single setback would not break you!"

The archmage said excitedly.

Karsus looked down at the archmage looking up at him and smiled slightly, speaking softly, "Go tell the archmages of Netheril, I am back."

"This war should also end."

With that, the long-silent grand archmage vanished, disappearing from the archmage's sight below.

The archmage who had witnessed Karsus's return stood stunned for a long time.

When he regained his composure, he was ecstatic and quickly spread the news through the Arcane Chain, sparking vigorous discussion among Netheril's archmages.

Although Karsus had faded from public view, his appearance instantly revived all memories of him among the archmages.

Meanwhile.

In the deep valley, the silver dragon opened his eyes.

In front of Garon, space subtly rippled as Karsus stepped out from a teleportation portal, his neatly arranged, imposing figure reflected in the platinum dragon's eyes.

Looking up at the majestic silver dragon.

Karsus spoke softly, "Teacher, I have just created a spell, but haven't yet cast it. I'd like your guidance."

Garon's eyes flickered as he regarded the grown archmage, "Oh? What spell?"

Karsus replied, "It embodies my conviction to ascend to divinity. It's called, Ascension Magic, Karsus's Ascension Magic."

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