The Battle of Heaven and Earth has ended. The Celestial Realm cut off its tail to escape, and one corner of Eryan's Three Realms has been lost; the Abyss and the Human Realm are temporarily at a stalemate. The Abyss has been temporarily isolated and cannot access the Prime Material Plane, but it has not been completely expelled. A new balance is emerging, though it is incredibly fragile.
The demons would not be satisfied with such an outcome.
If left with no other choice, the Abyss would have no option but to follow the same path as the beings of the Celestial Realm: severing their connection to the plane and plunging into the Astral Plane. However, on the one hand, the demons of the Abyss were far more chaotic than the beings of the Celestial Realm, lacking a leader capable of making a unified decision; on the other hand, the demon lords knew they still possessed the ability to invade the Prime Material Plane once more, making it difficult for them to give up so easily.
The celestials' choice is like lowering a small lifeboat before a storm arrives—it may escape the tempest, or it may be destroyed in another crisis. Departure is inevitable, but if they can dismantle the great ship before leaving—even if only to salvage some wood and provisions—their chances of survival will increase significantly.
This is why the Abyss remains.
This is why the Abyss—which held more trump cards than the Celestial Realm after the war—now finds itself in a bind, trapped where it is.
When the Archdruid and the elves pulled the tainted plane away, the Astral Plane briefly appeared before all beings on the Prime Material Plane. Then, the passage to the Astral Plane temporarily closed, and fierce spatial turbulence raged outside the Prime Material Plane, preventing anyone from leaving for the time being. Spatial spells were all affected. The people of the Prime Material Plane simply assumed that the failure of this "journey" had caused some side effects, and that the gateway to the Astral Plane had been temporarily sealed. They believed these turbulence were temporary—rare, perhaps, but normal, since the Astral Plane was, after all, an unpredictable realm.
The turbulence persisted for many, many years. All the powerful adventurers who ventured into the Astral Plane lost contact, and their repeated disappearances served as constant reminders of the Astral's dangers. Over time, fewer and fewer dared to attempt the journey. Eventually, even the legendary practitioners—who should have possessed the ability to traverse the Astral—found themselves unable to leave Eryan. By then, however, the decline of legendary mages had already begun, and this was regarded as one of the many consequences of the magical environment's deterioration.
—The powerful beings trapped on Eryan were completely mistaken.
There is indeed a connection between the decline of the magical environment and the inability of Legends to enter the Astral Plane, but it is not the causal relationship they assumed. Had the Prime Material Plane remained connected to the Abyss, and had mages been able to discern clues from the demons they summoned, spellcasters might have identified the problem before the decline became complete. Although Abyssal demons of this era could still enter the Astral Plane, they were no longer able to emulate the Celestial Plane.
One might compare the Abyss and the Celestial Plane to two spaceships: breaking free from the "surface" of Eryan requires expending energy. The Abyssal ship had more fuel than the Celestial ship, but just as it prepared to set sail, the gravitational pull grew stronger.
"Is it because the Cataclysm of Eryan has begun?" Tasha asked.
"No," Archmage Liandell replied. "It is not the Cataclysm that holds them back, but Eryan itself."
The Abyss has the Will of the Abyss, Nature has the Will of Nature, and the world of Eryan possesses its own "Will."
The World Will encompasses the entire world—from the Celestial Realm to the Abyss, from the mighty Immortals to the mayflies that live and die in a single day, from living beings to soulless environments… Everything exists within the World Will. Its scope is so vast that its presence is, paradoxically, faint; unlike the Will of the Abyss, it is not easily perceived.
Just as mixing all colors together results in nothing but chaos, and just as combining countless voices produces nothing but a cacophony of noise, the World Will—which encompasses the entire world and the myriad different beings and wills within it—is as transparent as air, making its presence almost imperceptible. Most of the time, for the vast majority of living beings, the World Will is indeed no different from non-existence. He is the old captain who spends most of his time sleeping, usually easygoing, quite lazy, and slow to react; only when the very survival of the great ship is at stake does He step out onto the deck.
The Will of Eryan desires to continue existing.
It has no joy, anger, sorrow, or pleasure; no emotions or thoughts. It lacks even a soul or a conscious mind, yet it understands the coming calamity and the means to avert it better than anyone. It cannot command all living beings in the world to unite and work together, but it can discern what actions will worsen the situation and respond accordingly. The world's response may be a beat late, but it will not fail to come.
The Celestial Realm had severed ties with Erian, and a group of beings from the Prime Material Plane had dragged a quarter of it into the Astral Plane—the World Will cared not for right or wrong, nor for the grudges and entanglements between the three realms. To Him, these two events signified only one outcome: the weakening of the world's power.
If the World Will was to continue to exist, He would not allow Himself to be further weakened.
The captain closed the passage leading to the lifeboats; the city lord locked the gates leading out of the city. The World Will's presence is faint yet, at times, terrifyingly powerful; no living being in this world can ignore its blockade. How can one resist a natural disaster?
This blockade grows ever stricter.
At first, only those who had journeyed to the Astral Plane could not return; later, people could not enter the Astral Plane, and eventually began to forget it; At first, the Abyss as a whole could not escape as easily as the Celestial Realm; later, even demon lords with spatial abilities found it difficult to leave. Eryan was like a drowning man—the weaker he grew, the more he refused to let go. Driven by the world's instinct for survival, escape routes were shut down one by one.
A prophecy emerged among the dragons: they had caught the last train and migrated as a whole race. Perhaps because they were favored by the Creator and so powerful as to be called "mythical creatures," or perhaps because the origin legend that "the Dragon Ancestor came from another realm" was true, the Dragon King managed to open a passage to the Astral Plane and led his entire race to safety. After this final exodus, the idea of a mass migration became a pipe dream, and even the most exceptional legendary adventurers lost the ability to open the Astral Plane.
The World Will closed the door, but once it was shut, things did not improve—they only grew worse.
The Celestial Realm and the Abyss were banished, and the beings of both realms were isolated from the world, bearing this secret with them. Those who suspected the truth either journeyed to the Astral Plane and never returned, perished as magical power waned, or were annihilated in the flames of war. As the magical environment continued to weaken, the panicked masses—unaware of the true cause—began fighting fiercely over the remaining resources.
What a terrifying truth.
This brief account contains a staggering amount of information, brutally laying bare so many mysteries. A vast veil of mist has been suddenly torn away, revealing an ugly reality beneath. Those seeking answers found nothing; those who uncovered the truth could not speak of it. So many secrets from the past few centuries have been concealed from the entire world—and yet, it turns out one must look beyond the world itself to learn the truth.
Tasha stood beside the old mage's image. She didn't need to say or do anything; the progress bar for the Dungeon card shot up rapidly in just a short time.
[Dungeon - Tasha]
Merging and reorganizing, Progress: 90/100
Basic knowledge of Eryan accounted for 25% of the progress; receiving the Abyss's favor added 6%; a series of insights into the Astral Plane pushed the progress bar to 56/100; a sense of wonder at the scenery inexplicably added 4%; and learning the truth behind the Great Druid and the Wood Elves' journey added 15%. By now, it seems all of Eryan's secrets have been unveiled, with progress rising from 75/100 to the current 90/100.
"I was the last mage to flee Eryan," said Leander. "I didn't have much time left back then, so I decided to make one last gamble—and I won. The top floor of Richel's Mage Tower was the path to the Astral Plane; that path collapsed after I passed through."
He looked a little regretful, as if recalling how he had taken the last lifeboat during a shipwreck.
Tasha comforted him: "Apart from us, no one else has found their way there."
Leander smiled, a smile tinged with the same bittersweetness as always.
He shook his head, shaking off the melancholy of a moment ago, and changed the subject: "This Mage Tower is the collective creation of the legendary mages who left before us. It was sheer luck that I managed to escape; reaching this place was a blessing of magic. With what little strength and lifespan I have left, I can only serve as a memento. But before my time, when the passage to the Astral Plane hadn't yet been completely sealed, some mages took the risk of traversing the turbulence and successfully reached the Astral Plane. They hadn't yet been affected by the decline of the magical environment and possessed genuine legendary power."
Many of those legendary practitioners who vanished without a trace after leaving Eryan actually managed to survive.
The survival skills of legendary mages rank among the highest among the powerful in the Astral Plane, and so does their preparedness. These mages, stranded in the Astral Plane with no way back, have established mage towers there. The shelters they've built have grown more refined day by day, and today, the mage encampments in the sky are actually better than those on the ground in Eryan.
"Are there apprentices here as well?" Tasha interrupted.
In her brief glance moments ago, Tasa had indeed spotted several students. There were quite a few people here; it couldn't possibly be just the mages who had left with Leander.
"Yes," the old mage smiled. "In this Astral Plane, which connects countless worlds, there are not only mages like us from Eryan. It's not difficult to trade with others or take on apprentices. Who says that those drifting in the Astral Plane must be powerful? So many have left their home worlds for various reasons—those fleeing their worlds, those cast out by them, those traveling, those who've faced misfortune… Aren't you one of them?"
It struck her like a thunderclap.
Tasha froze in place, but quickly realized she shouldn't be so surprised. She had previously suspected that the world where Earth lay might also be a fruit on the branches of the World Tree—that she hadn't simply fallen from some higher realm into a story. This world was so vast, teeming with extraordinary individuals; Tasa was merely a tiny part of it.
The old mage had anticipated her arrival.
Once the shock had passed, she actually felt exhilarated.
"Why did I come to Erian?" Tasa asked urgently.
"I don't know," Leander replied.
"You don't know?" Tasha exclaimed in astonishment.
"If prophecies could reveal everything, how would the world function?" Leander laughed and winked at her. "We've been observing Erian from afar; it took hundreds of years of research and speculation to uncover those truths. "Prophecies are merely one method of calculation. We knew you were coming, but we didn't know how you would react to the outcome."
He paused and continued, "We know you are 'one of them' simply because your soul does not belong to Erian. As former residents of Erian who have spent so long in the Astral Plane and encountered so many wanderers, we could easily see that."
"Isn't it because of some kind of scheme…" Tasha murmured; for a few moments just now, she had almost believed her arrival was the work of these mages.
"We don't have that capability yet," Leander said, looking amused. "Even if we could establish a foothold in the Astral Plane, our knowledge remains incredibly limited. We can detect meteors, but we cannot understand why they appear. As for your arrival, the only answer I can give is: I don't know."
A brief silence.
The dungeon's progress bar had been stagnant for some time now; ninety percent seemed to be the limit for this conversation, and continuing it didn't yield any further progress. The important secrets regarding Eryan had clearly all been revealed—what could the remaining ten percent possibly be? Tasa sighed inwardly, thinking self-deprecatingly that her own origins surely couldn't account for ten percent of the progress.
" "So, as an outsider, how will you choose?" Leander said. "Will you stay, or will you return?"
Those aged eyes looked at Tasa, their gaze filled with pure curiosity.
Tasa pressed her lips together.
She didn't want to pretend she hadn't understood, and she didn't have time to play dumb now.
"Can I even 'stay'?" Tasa asked. "You know I don't have much time left."
"If you intend to return, there is indeed little time left," the old mage nodded. "But as long as you decide to stay here, you can remain—or rather, leave Eryan forever."
Leander was not waiting here merely to do a good deed or answer questions.
The mages had prophesied Tasa's arrival long ago; they had devised a method to draw her dungeon core into the tower. As long as Tarsha renounced everything in Eryan, she could be transferred to the Mage Tower and become its Tower Spirit—the mages were deeply interested in Tarsha's form of existence, and they were willing to strike a deal with her: a hundred years of service in exchange for their assistance. As their spokesperson, Leander assured her this was a fair deal.
"We will draw up an equal contract beforehand; you may use your own contract." he said earnestly, "For a hundred years, you'll simply serve as the Tower Spirit and cooperate with our experiments. The experiments won't cause any serious, irreversible harm to your body or mind. And after a hundred years, you'll be free. The Mage Tower can forge a new body or vessel for you, and you'll become even more powerful than before."
It was… quite tempting.
"What if I refuse?" Tasha asked.
"Then we can only express our regret," said Liandell. "You were not sealed by Eryan because your soul does not belong to Eryan. But you lack the ability to traverse the astral plane at will, and when Eryan falls, you will not be able to save yourself."
"I thought Eryan was already reviving," Tasha sighed.
"You did come close to turning the tide." " Leander said, "But no, Eryan's calamity has not even begun."
A world's lifespan is so long that the time it can cling to existence far exceeds the lifespans of most of its inhabitants. Tash's presence did indeed slow down this train hurtling toward the cliff's edge—even causing it to retreat considerably—but it remains on the steep descent, and the valley floor has not yet been reached.
The second shoe has yet to drop.
The Prime Material Plane still has no Legendary Class characters; no one can ascend to Legendary status, just as the Abyss has not seen a new Demon Lord in many, many years. That is why Victor's inquiry to the Wrath Demon Simon—"Have there been any new Greater Demons in recent years?"—was met with suspicion.
Tasha now realized exactly where Victor had slipped up back then. He had threatened Simon with closing the Abyss portal for thousands of years, and had dismissed Simon's retort—"Don't you want to live?"—as mere low-level bluster. But what the Fiend had said was not bluster; it was the truth. If the Abyss portal remained sealed for thousands of years, the demon lords would be unable to plunder sufficient supplies from the Prime Material Plane. Without enough energy to sever the Abyss from Eryan, their future would be bleak.
There might only be one chance.
Tasha relied on the abilities of an Astral Traveler, using a talisman to traverse the Astral Plane; each journey consumed that talisman. Without the talisman as an anchor, even if Tasa were to return to the Astral Plane, she might not be able to find this mage tower and secure a second chance from them. And to put it more bluntly, there's no need to wait for the Cataclysm of Eryan centuries from now—the Abyssal Portal will open in just a few years. This upcoming Abyssal War is no ordinary demonic plague; if the demon lords wish to find a way out, it will inevitably be a fight to the death.
If she had nodded and stayed, all of this could have been avoided. She would have simply started over somewhere else—and that would have been far better than the circumstances she faced in Erian. When confronting past crises, hadn't Tasa already decided that as long as she preserved the core, she could make a comeback?
But…
However…
A flood of thoughts rushed through Tasa's mind.
She thought of the people who had entered the Mage Tower with her—some had died in the previous battle, others hadn't made it to the teleportation array in time. Only half of them had survived this journey. They had come at her command, responding with enthusiasm. Tasa knew the competition to join the team had been fierce; they trusted her. She had promised those mages that she would build them a Mage Tower better than any they had known before.
She recalled the Elf King—a sovereign who had stood guard alone for hundreds of years and finally breathed his last after meeting her. He had given Tasa a seed before closing his eyes in peace. Tasa remembered the moment the world began to drift apart, and the four elves who remained behind in Eryan. The seed of the Tree of Life was planted in her forest. The Elven King smiled at her in his final moments, confident that his people would one day set foot on the lands of Eryan once more.
She thought of the escape from the Celestial Realm. The gods, who had enjoyed centuries of offerings and worship in the past, fled faster than anyone else when true calamity struck. She thought of the Abyss, where the vultures lingered not out of mercy but out of greed—a greed so deep they could never leave. She thought of the mages around her; these mages, long departed from Erian, seemed to have accepted its downfall. The scholars were more concerned with their own research, and besides, the people here had likely long since changed generations, leaving their homeland a blur in their minds.
Eryan was not Tashan's homeland.
She had merely stayed here for over a decade, watching it transform from an abandoned hall into the basement of half the world, witnessing its residents go from being hunted down to walking the streets as ordinary people. She had seen panic-stricken faces break into smiles, hollow eyes come alive with spirit, a harsh and rigid city burst into color, and all manner of beautiful landscapes and creatures.
Tasha remembers the day she spread her wings and took flight for the first time. She soared on the wind, looking down upon green mountains and clear waters, cities and villages, the high-altitude breeze ruffling her hair.
Tasha remembers the nights spent reviewing documents, when the goblin Ah Huang would bring a small toy made by a Dwarf artisan and place it on her lap. She would pat Ah Huang on the head, and he would happily walk away. The half-elf Mavis walked in and brought her a bowl of exceptionally delicious soup—it was truly exquisite. The ingredients were completely unrecognizable, and as the magical environment recovered, Mavis's culinary creations became increasingly impossible to replicate on Earth.
Tasha remembers a spring day when she went to inspect the forest, and the singing of the bard Jacqueline drifted in from afar. It had just rained in the forest, and the ground was damp. Marion, who was traveling with her, transformed into a wolf and nudged her waist with her large head, offering to carry her forward. Back then, her dragon-winged form still had legs just like a human's, and flying through the forest with her wings was inconvenient, so Tasa took off her shoes and climbed onto Marion's back, feeling as though she were stepping on a thick, fluffy blanket. Victor was muttering complaints in the link, but Tasha listened absently, treating him merely as background noise.
The cocoon enveloping Victor was still trapped in the magic pool, unable to move.
"No, thank you," Tasha said.
"Are you sure?" Leander asked, somewhat surprised.
"You just said that the world has no predetermined 'end date,' only troughs and calamities," Tasha replied.
"When the dragons departed, the most eminent prophetess, Margarita, the Eye of Prophecy, performed a divination. She did not reveal the results but chose instead to take her own life," Leander continued. "It wasn't until I arrived here that I understood the reason for her desperate suicide. The world will eventually fall into ruin. So many powerful beings capable of joining forces have already fled, and humanity has severed its own limbs in the flames of war. Saving the world is now nothing but a pipe dream. Such an answer is too cruel for those who cannot leave, but you still have a choice."
"That was hundreds of years ago," Tasha said. "Eryan today is different from what it was then, and as you said, I am an unexpected variable. I haven't chosen a dead end; I've simply chosen a challenge."
"By giving up on Eryan, you might travel through many new worlds in the future," Leander said regretfully.
"True, but… never mind," Tasha laughed.
If she left, the stabilized framework of Erian might be turned upside down, as if a supporting beam had been pulled out. Many would suffer, many would be disappointed, and countless lives would lose the chance to live well—or even to be born… but the reason Tasha stayed was not out of kindness.
It was simply because "she wanted to."
It had nothing to do with nobility or baseness; in the end, Tasha's choice concerned only herself. She wanted to stay because, to her, Eryan was like the rose in *The Little Prince*. No matter how beautiful the roses she might encounter in the future, none would be the one and only rose that belonged to her.
"More importantly," Tasha said, "we might still have something to trade regarding certain Abyss materials."