Chapter Sixty-Nine: Undercurrents Surge

[Welcome to the Blackstone City Adventurers’ Guild. Let us push open the doors and take up our staffs. Adventure begins here. Across the hills of cloud and sea, like waves upon the meadows, shallow rivers sparkle; the fields flow with gold and honey, laden with laughter...]

The day after the Goddess Festival ended, a stirring new poster was pinned to the notice board of the Adventurers’ Guild.

All of this was sparked by the divine shards the goddess had spoken of—just obtaining one fragment could utterly change your life! One didn’t even need to acquire the fragment itself; simply providing a clue could earn a generous reward.

Nobles, wealthy merchants, and even the royal families of every great kingdom offered bounties; a single divine shard could be exchanged for a noble title, a fief, or an astronomical sum. Immortal life holds a fatal allure for mortals—especially those kings and high nobles who would sacrifice anything for it.

Before the Goddess of Life had fallen, she granted longevity to spread her church swiftly across all nations. Now, with the gods fallen and their blessings vanished, many key figures had perished, throwing the continent into turmoil.

The Church of the Goddess of Life was under immense pressure; had she not manifested, many kingdoms would already be purging her followers. But now, as the only deity to appear in the mortal world—and with such an enticing promise—the rulers of these lands could no longer restrain themselves.

If the Goddess of Life could survive such a catastrophe and be restored to supreme divinity with their aid, perhaps their own lives could truly become eternal.

Wealth, fame, power, status, women… everything lay within reach. With a single pronouncement, the goddess sent all adventurers flocking to the wilds, embarking on new journeys.

But.

From before the birth of the gods, the continent of Edras had never known peace. Monsters ceaselessly threatened human survival. Though intelligent races had explored many regions, forbidden ruins remained where monsters could slaughter even deities.

Among monsters, only the dragons were truly unique; it seemed no others had ever ascended to godhood, yet their peak strength could surpass mortal limits.

The Night of Falling Stars marked the beginning of the monster uprisings.

According to the latest reports, the rampaging monsters’ power seemed to be rising as well—a hidden crisis for humanity. If a formidable monster were to absorb a divine shard, what disaster might ensue?

This event was not, as the goddess claimed, limited to the gods; humanity too suffered deeply. Yet, lured by the promise of the shards, adventurers grew bolder than ever.

There were countless gods upon the Pantheon. Each fragmented divinity produced many shards; while finding one on such a vast continent was like searching for a needle in the sea, the existence of the shards left traces.

For example, the shard Chu Yun once absorbed drew monsters to it; various other strange phenomena caused by shards became clues for adventurers.

A graveyard overrun with zombies might indicate the influence of a shard from the God of Undeath; an endless rainstorm in a jungle might conceal the shard of the Water God…

Since the Night of Falling Stars, Edras had been dotted with bizarre places and phenomena. Some of these “singularities” were caused by divine shards, others by the chaos of the magic web.

The Goddess of Magic, who governed the magic web, had likely fallen as well. The web itself was not her creation; she merely possessed the highest authority to maintain and revise its order.

With her gone, the magic web would not vanish, but it would never update again, and any faults would go unaddressed. Mana storms and elemental tides could erupt anywhere at any time.

They dearly missed the Magic Goddess, who tirelessly patched the system for them. Now, these tasks fell to the mages themselves; the reclusive Mage Guilds had to intervene frequently to stabilize the tides and prevent greater chaos.

To ensure the safety of Edras’s people and the prosperity of human civilization, the Mage Guilds everywhere issued new joint articles alongside the adventurers’ mobilization.

Given the declining number of mages in recent years, the unpredictable duration of elemental tides, and the guilds’ own surplus of apprentices and teaching difficulties, the Mage Guilds made a monumental decision: they would establish collective-teaching Mage Academies!

From ancient times, mages had always learned through master-apprentice traditions—never before had a Mage Academy existed.

Many doubted the Mage Guilds’ intentions, suspecting that their true motive was to counter the Church of the Goddess of Life. Many other organizations, especially the churches of other deities, harbored similar suspicions. The Life Goddess’s intent to collect the gods’ shards was plain to all.

Devout believers hoped to gather the shards to resurrect their own gods; the less devout merely wished for a new god to continue their protection.

They did not trust the Goddess of Life, especially the followers of other high gods who had once stood as her equals. They believed this was all a fabrication by her church, and that the so-called “Saintess” was no reincarnated goddess.

Meanwhile, many powerful individuals sought to seize a shard and ascend to divinity themselves, rather than offer it to the goddess.

All these tensions would only intensify as the shards continued to appear. In this looming age of chaos, strengthening oneself and one’s organization became paramount.

As a member of the Mage Guild, Chu Yun too received the new articles: those who agreed could enjoy greater benefits and subsidies, but in exchange, a Second Circle Mage must teach at the Academy at least once a month, or twelve times a year.

Each session came with a handsome bonus.

Those willing to serve as permanent instructors, like Anna, would receive even greater compensation and privileges.

Mages unwilling to teach could remain in the guild, but their subsidies would be drastically reduced.

Each class lasted half a day; twelve sessions a year was not much. This was a basic obligation for guild members, and if more classes were needed as the Academy grew, any additional teaching would be strictly voluntary.

Though these were the basic requirements, if too many mages volunteered to teach, the president could exempt those unwilling, especially for higher-ranked mages with difficult temperaments, to avoid discord.

Chu Yun cared little for the subsidies, but as a modern man, he was well-versed in the art of teaching. Occasionally playing lecturer and discovering promising talent seemed rather appealing.

He did not refuse the agreement, handed to him personally by the president of the Blackstone City Mage Guild, and solemnly signed his name.

It was clear the president took this matter very seriously, and the guild’s mages recognized its gravity; most did not object.