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The sky was a deep, pure blue, clouds floating like tufts of cotton. Ian hovered in the clear air, the sea of clouds churning beneath his feet. In the far distance stretched endless mountains and forests.
He gently moved his arms, adjusting his posture and feeling the flow of magical power through the air. The wind tore at his cloak, while that floating steel city in the distance loomed like a slumbering giant beast.
Ian stared at the city before him, utterly awestruck. He had heard countless legends about lost civilizations, but he had never imagined he would see with his own eyes a miraculous city in the sky.
Its pitch-black metal surface glimmered with a cold luster; countless gears and pipes lay exposed, steam and electric arcs crackling and flashing through the gaps.
It floated silently in midair, emitting no rumble, with no visible structure supporting it, like a dormant cybernetic city, countless gears interlocking and spinning along its exterior.
Then the black-robed wizards inside the city noticed him.
Between prism-shaped towers, faint blue runes began to glow. The entire city was soon wrapped in a semi-transparent amber protective shield, its surface rippling with fine threads of current.
Yes, Ian had only just approached, and the whole city instantly reacted as if facing a grave enemy. The protective barrier spread like ripples on water, countless runes flashing across the translucent surface.
It was like a giant net, enveloping the entire floating city.
"The fluctuations of this defensive magic… even a Legendary Wizard wouldn't have such magical power," Ian murmured, squinting as he ran his fingers over his wand.
However, before he could get any closer, a shrill alarm pierced the air. From within the steel city came a rising din of shouting. Wizards in black robes stood atop the towers, pointing in Ian's direction with looks of both terror and fury.
"The Raven from the Underworld!" Someone screamed, their voice distorted and warped as it passed through the protective barrier.
"It's that creature again!"
"Drive it away! Don't let it come near! It'll take all our lives with it!"
A wave of panic swept through the city. The air was filled with chaotic cries, "Gibber gibber! Gibber gibber!", which Ian couldn't understand at all, though their tone conveyed unmistakable fear and anxiety.
Even though their language was ancient and incomprehensible, Ian could feel their emotions clearly: fear, disgust, and even… hatred.
There was no helping it; he didn't speak their language.
From Ian's perspective, all he saw was a group of people standing on high platforms. Beneath their hoods, eyes of various colors glimmered. They held oddly shaped metal staffs, pointing at him as if he were a mortal enemy. Their faces were tense, filled with hostility and vigilance.
"These people are insane," Ian muttered.
He looked down at himself, a teenage boy, dressed in an ordinary wizard's robe, holding a wand, and with a few alchemy trinkets hanging from his belt.
He hardly looked like a terrifying monster or a harbinger of doom.
His hands were slender and bony, his legs long, his figure that of a normal youth. Other than the fact that his robe's style was a bit different from theirs, there was nothing about him that should inspire such fear.
To be honest, their extreme reaction was starting to make Ian feel a little self-conscious.
"I've got hands, feet, and a perfectly normal face… what, did I grow horns or something? Or scales?" He muttered, running a hand over his face to make sure he still looked human.
Finally, he pulled out a small mirror he'd swiped from Aurora just to be sure.
It was a round silver mirror, about twenty centimeters across. The frame was made of dark ebony, carved with twisted vine-like patterns that seemed to writhe like shadows.
The mirror's surface was smooth and cold, slightly convex, and when one looked closely, the reflection seemed denser and deeper than reality itself.
On the back of the frame was embedded a faintly glowing azure gem, pulsing subtly with the holder's emotions, a simple yet mysterious design.
As a magical mirror, it reflected the user's appearance with uncanny clarity, whether in bright light or total darkness, it would render every detail with lifelike precision. It could even display the area behind the user within a certain range.
It offered a full 360° field of view, perfect for checking one's appearance, or watching one's back.
Unlike the cute, ornate mirrors most girls carried, this one had a darker, eerie beauty.
Aurora's taste was always unique. And Ian had to admit, he liked it. Her aesthetic sense matched his own perfectly. Clearly, both of them were Cthulhu enthusiasts at heart.
And,
That ever-present vigilance, that almost paranoid sense of persecution, made Ian feel quite a bit of admiration. Of course, one of this mirror's most remarkable abilities was that it could reflect the emotional state of the person using it.
When one stood before the mirror, their reflection didn't only show their appearance, it was faintly tinted with emotional colors. For instance, when the user felt joy, a soft golden radiance would ripple across the surface, like sunlight glimmering on a calm lake. When they felt sorrow, a pale blue mist would envelop their reflection, giving off a chill, lonely feeling.
When angry, crimson thread-like patterns would coil around their body in the mirror, as though fire were searing them. When afraid, the mirror would blur, filled with twisted shadows, as if something unknown were watching from the dark.
And right now, above Ian's reflection, a series of floating question marks shimmered faintly, symbols of confusion.
This little mirror's "emotion detection" function was precisely the reason Ian had swiped it in the first place.
After all, he was a scholar, an alchemist, who loved to learn.
"No problem here… even my hair's fine." Ian double-checked that he hadn't somehow sprouted horns, feeling more and more confused about why the black-robed wizards of the Iron City were so terrified of him. Honestly, if he had dark skin, he could at least understand, they might fear he'd "contaminate" their pure white bloodline or something.
But he was really quite pale.
Smooth, flawless skin and all.
"Hey! Did you lot mistake me for someone else?" Ian shouted, his voice scattering in the roaring wind. He tried to send out a wave of mental force toward the Protective Shield, hoping to convey goodwill to the ancient wizards inside. But the moment his psychic energy touched the barrier, it was repelled, as if he'd pressed his hand against a burning iron plate.
Clearly,
This defensive magic could even block out mental interference. Even though Ian possessed the power level of a legendary wizard, he still couldn't shake the barrier in the slightest.
That was what baffled him most. These wizards, each of whom possessed magic and magical strength comparable to, if not greater than, his own, were panicking like frightened birds.
Was that really necessary?
Just as Ian was pondering this in bewilderment,
The Iron City moved.
Not the city itself shifting, but some hidden mechanism deep within it had been activated. The wizards inside paid no attention to Ian's attempt at peaceful communication. They raised their hands high and began chanting ancient spells.
In the next instant, the steel surfaces of the city began to writhe. The once-still pipes twisted and transformed; the ground cracked open; and from the city walls, towers, and mechanical gears, countless metal beasts tore themselves free.
Their bodies were forged of pitch-black steel, joints exhaling steam, and in the hollows of their eyes burned eerie blue flames.
(To Be Continued…)