The former ruler of the Silvermoon Alliance, the Queen of the North, the current guardian of the great fortress, humanity's last beacon of hope—
As the daughter of
Though she herself was a powerful wizard of legendary rank and had even inherited a sliver of divine power from the Goddess of the Weave, Alustriel knew full well that without her mother's backing, her Silvermoon Alliance would have struggled merely to survive in the North, let alone launch any counterattack against the orc empire.
Losing the Goddess of the Weave was nothing short of an apocalyptic catastrophe for a regime built primarily on wizards, like the Silvermoon Alliance!
Fortunately, the renewed incursion of wizards had forced the gods to reach a unanimous agreement, which at least prevented the orc empire from sending its armies to annihilate the Silvermoon Alliance outright.
That said, things didn't stay good for long.
What followed was the horrifying Great Plague, and then the arrival of the Dark Cataclysm.
Alustriel was fortunate! Her rank as a legendary wizard gave her sufficient ability to cast spells independent of the Weave. Though she stumbled like a child learning to walk, she at least possessed some power to protect herself.
If wizards below level twenty were like unborn children in the womb, powerless to defend themselves, then legendary wizards were newborns who had already been separated from the mother's body—independent, and not dragged down too severely by the Weave's destruction.
That sliver of divine power from the Goddess of the Weave even gave Alustriel the possibility of succeeding her as the new Goddess of the Weave!
With the help of the gods—some open, some covert—the Silvermoon Confederation's government had managed to hold together, barely.
Then came the Cataclysm and the swarm's attacks, which forced Alustriel to agonizingly abandon most of their territory and construct a final fortress to make their stand.
As it stood, aside from the orcs, the hundreds of thousands of people within this massive survivor camp represented the last remnants of the entire North.
"Was my decision right or wrong?"
She had to admit—Alustriel might have been a fine ruler in peacetime, but her character entirely lacked the decisiveness and willingness to sacrifice that a leader needed, especially in times like these!
"Your Majesty, I bring the latest news from the south!"
Just as Alustriel was still hesitating and struggling with herself, a teleportation gate opened. The archmage
Alustriel's heart skipped a beat—for the survivor camp, this was about the worst possible news imaginable.
By now, Alustriel knew that the tide of insectoid beasts sweeping across the entire human world originated from those Hives that seemed like otherworldly intruders. Wherever a Hive appeared in any region, it was essentially synonymous with annihilation.
The endless swarm pouring from a Hive could devour everything, reducing the land to a barren wasteland.
"Damn it... the crops we painstakingly cultivated—though the yield was low, we'd already cleared and planted them. If we could just harvest once..."
Alustriel's voice trailed off into a murmur. "It's too late to relocate now. Building this camp has consumed every last one of our reserves—we can't afford to abandon it. And more importantly... the entire world is like this. Even if we did move, where could we go?"
A sorrowful smile bloomed on Alustriel's face, filling Elminster's heart with bitterness.
"How is our wizard corps progressing?"
After a long pause, Alustriel seemed to have finally made up her mind, and posed the question to Elminster.
"They're still in training. The best one among them has only managed to cast a fourth-level spell. And this person was a peak level-twenty wizard before the Cataclysm—just one step away from legendary rank..."
Elminster let out a sigh.
With the Weave's collapse, the old approach of directly perceiving the world's elemental laws and casting spells through spiritual power had once again become the dominant method.
Legendary wizards had already begun delving into arcanist research. Finding training materials in this area was not particularly difficult.
With the accumulated magical knowledge and talent pool of Silvermoon City, various spellcasting experiments were quickly set into motion.
Under the current circumstances, even the gods could no longer maintain their ban on arcanists. Though the churches would never publicly acknowledge the treaty's abrogation in order to preserve divine authority, private research had already become an open secret.
Unfortunately, in the field of arcanist spellcasting, these wizards seemed to regress instantly from accomplished masters to bumbling craftsmen. The convenience of Weave-based casting had brought about a thorough decline in wizard aptitude standards.
Once the ancient, rigorous selection standards were reinstated, many wizards immediately found themselves out of their depth.
Some elderly wizards, their bodies and minds too rigid to adapt, saw no possibility of changing their path—desperate suicides among them were not uncommon.
Even with Alustriel committing the full might of their nation and Silvermoon City being the richest repository of magical resources they had, progress thus far had only advanced non-Weave spellcasting to fourth-level spells.
Moreover, freed from the Weave, wizards discovered with dismay that spells had become increasingly difficult to control, demanding far greater ability from the casters themselves. The number who perished from magical backlash was uncountable.
"Keep the last batch of seeds as reserves. Everyone else—forward!"
After a long, agonizing moment, Alustriel clenched her teeth and made her decision. A single tear rolled down her cheek.
She raised her hand, bringing the army to solemn silence, then rose to the center of the sky above, her magically amplified voice echoing in all directions.
"...They have taken everything from us, and now they come to take our lives as well..."
"A vile Hive has arrived in our territory, less than a hundred li away, posing an ever-present threat to us all..."
"All our city-fortification scrolls and magical items have been exhausted. We cannot forge another City of Hope somewhere else..."
"Now tell me!
Alustriel's voice spread to every corner. Dorin gripped his weapon so tightly his knuckles went white, as though doing so could grant him a sliver of comfort.
"Have we really fallen this far?"
Dorin thought to himself, feeling a surge of flame nearly erupting from within.
"No! I belong here! I'll die before I leave!"
"Never!" "Never!!" "NEVER!!!" Beside Dorin, Jimmy slammed his axe against his shield, roaring with fury.
"We will never leave!"
The terrifying wave of voices merged into a tidal roar, making the entire fortress tremble.
"Good! In this battle, I will fight alongside you. Let us fight together for survival!" Alustriel promised.
"For survival!" "For survival!"
With morale surging, the army set off swiftly.
True to her word, Alustriel rode a white steed at the vanguard of the column. Possessing a sliver of divine power, she was the only wizard who could still barely maintain legendary rank. Having such a powerhouse among them was an unparalleled boost to morale.
...
"Your squad is on patrol duty today!"
The great army wound its way forward. Compared to the regular forces, Dorin's squad looked rather ragtag, and everyone's spirits were low. The atmosphere was heavier than ever—even Jimmy's best efforts to rally them proved futile.
This survivor camp was their last hope. If even this fell, then even Dorin would have little courage left to go on living in this broken world.
"Dorin, come with me!
Jimmy seemed to have reached his limit, gesturing to Dorin with his greataxe.
"Yeah!" Dorin, too, could barely stand the oppressive atmosphere—it even felt like a weight pressing on his chest. At Jimmy's call, he scrambled to his feet.
The darkened continent still harbored countless dangers.
Though many creatures had been unable to adapt to the brutal environment and gone extinct, a stubborn few had survived, undergoing cruel mutations to fit their surroundings. Even their temperaments had grown more cunning and savage.
Dorin had even heard faint rumors of the subterranean races.
Driders riding giant spiders, hook horrors, and countless other species that had once dwelled beneath the surface seized this once-in-an-epoch opportunity to pour out from underground and seize territory that had once belonged to those who lived under the sun.
Behind them, the faint outline of divine patronage was ever-present. The first to step forward was Lolth, the Spider Queen.
It had to be said—her choice was exceedingly wise.
With the continent plunged into darkness, the gods' concession to the underdark deities—allowing certain races already adapted to life without sunlight to migrate to the surface—in order to replenish population and resources was perfectly reasonable.
Dorin had also heard rumors about drow cities.
It was said that all males there were nothing more than the most wretched slaves, and other races fared even worse—at any moment they could be sacrificed to the gods.
Even so, many wandering tribes reportedly sought them out, simply for the chance to obtain food and survive!
"A pity... Lolth is a dark deity... My faith..."
For a fleeting moment, struggle flickered in Dorin's eyes, but it quickly solidified into resolve.
Though the glory of the gods had faded considerably, their doctrines and influence still persisted throughout the Material Plane.
And the enmity between the forces of good and evil swayed Dorin's thoughts decisively.