Finally, Michael drifted through the dark water and spotted something in the distance that made him rub his eyes in disbelief. It was a glimmering city, seemingly made of white coral and shimmering pearls, resting on the sea bottom.
The city was surrounded by a shimmering energy field that sparkled, protecting it from the surrounding waters. It sparkled and glimmered like a giant luminescent pearl, casting a radiant glow over the surrounding waters. The dome, the creation of the Sea realm's most skilled runemasters and blacksmiths, was a true marvel of magical engineering. It was composed of a series of intricate runes, each infused with magical energy that worked together in perfect harmony to form a barrier. This barrier prevented water from flooding the city, even in the fiercest storms.
The energy dome also serves another important purpose: it allows for a controlled climate within the city. Because the dome keeps the water outside at bay, the temperature and humidity levels within Atlantisia can be carefully regulated to provide the ideal environment for its inhabitants.
Of course, maintaining such a powerful magical structure requires a great deal of skill and resources, which is why the merfolk and other creatures of Atlantisia take great care to protect and maintain their city's energy dome.
As Michael moved closer to the city, he felt a sense of excitement and anticipation building within him. He had heard many stories of the Atlantic, a forgotten city back on earth, but nothing could have prepared him for the breathtaking beauty of the city that lay before him.
"I have to say, it looks magical," Michael stood transfixed, gazing upon the enchanting sight before him with a profound sense of wonder and admiration. The scene that lay before his eyes seemed to possess a magical quality, evoking a sense of awe and amazement that left him utterly spellbound.
"I would like for it to stay that way," With a determined tone, Mutrad expressed his fervent desire for the preservation of his beloved city. The mere thought of witnessing his home reduced to ruins filled him with apprehension, and he resolved to do everything in his power to ensure its continued safety and prosperity.
As Michael approached the city, the beauty of the architecture became more evident. The City of Serpent Hall was built on a series of concentric rings that spiraled outwards from the center of the city. These rings were composed of towering spires and elegant domed buildings that rose out of the ocean depths, each one more exquisite than the last.
The outermost ring of the city was adorned with aquatic gardens filled with exotic sea plants and colorful fish that swam among the coral reefs. As one moved inward, bustling marketplaces, grand palaces, and towering temples were home to the city's most powerful and influential residents.
At the heart of the city lay the royal palace, a towering structure of gleaming white coral and iridescent pearls that served as the residence of King Serpent, the leader of the Sea Serpent Hall and his court. The palace was surrounded by a series of walls and gardens and was accessible only by a series of grand underwater archways that led into its hallowed halls.
Overall, the city was a stunning example of the beauty and ingenuity that could be achieved when magic and advanced engineering came together to create something truly extraordinary.
In stark contrast to the cities Michael had traversed in his past travels, the absence of imposing guards patrolling the city's streets and extorting entrance fees came as a pleasant surprise. It was a rare and refreshing sight to behold, one that fostered a sense of trust and security in the hearts of those who called this place home.
"Look," exclaimed Mutrad, extending his hand towards a magnificent aquatic garden in the near distance, "The tavern is right next to the garden over there," The garden was a sprawling oasis of vibrant aquatic life, teeming with a myriad of colorful fish and exotic plant species. The tranquil atmosphere, punctuated by the gentle sounds of bubbling water and rustling foliage, imbued the surrounding area with an aura of peace and serenity.
"I guess this is where our paths diverge," said Michael. In response, Mutrad nodded understandingly and made his way toward the shimmering energy shield. Hovering above the ground, he lowered himself gently, allowing Michael to pass through the barrier and onto the solid ground beyond.
ραпdα nᴏνɐ| сom Before bidding Michael farewell and departing the city, Mutrad offered a gentle reminder, urging him to exercise caution and refrain from causing any unnecessary disturbance or chaos in his wake. "Take care not to create any mess," he advised, his voice tinged with a hint of concern as he turned to make his way out of the city limits.
Upon entering the city, Michael was greeted by cautious inhabitants, and the first few people Michael saw inside the city were Earthens. Just like Cato, their bodies bore a striking resemblance to the graceful forms of Carp or Catfish, complete with shimmering scales that glimmered in the light. Despite their aquatic features, each of them had two arms, each with three fingers, allowing them to manipulate objects and interact with their surroundings in ways that defied their aquatic origins. Some of these creatures were also gifted with small feet that allowed them to walk on land with surprising agility, while others floated effortlessly above the ground, gliding with the grace of a dancer.
Then, Michael noticed another kind.
"They must be mermons," mumbled Michael. The Mermons were the oldest race in the Sea Realm, whose appearance was a unique blend of the terrestrial and the aquatic. Their upper bodies were akin to that of an elf, possessing an ethereal beauty that captivated the hearts and minds of all those who beheld them. Some among them did not have legs like humans and instead floated gracefully above the ground, defying gravity with their mystical powers. However, there were others who were gifted with legs and walked with a grace that was reminiscent of the elven kind.
As Michael continued to stare at the people before him, he noticed a peculiar sight: humanoid creatures walking upright on two feet, appearing to be human at first glance. Yet, upon closer inspection, he realized that something was amiss. Had he not known Mutrad, he would have been convinced that these beings were indeed humans. But as it turned out, they were Wraiths, shapeshifters who had taken on the form of humans with an uncanny resemblance that made it difficult to distinguish them from the real thing.
The Wraiths were an enigmatic and elusive race of shapeshifters whose powers of transformation knew no bounds. Though their origins were shrouded in mystery, it was widely believed that they were ancient aquatic creatures gifted with the ability to take on the guise of any form they desired. Despite their mastery of the art of transformation, the Wraiths possessed several unique features that set them apart from other shapeshifters.
Their aquatic nature was still apparent in their true form, with their skin bearing a translucent quality and shimmering with an ethereal glow. Their eyes were large and luminous, with a piercing gaze that seemed to penetrate deep into the soul of any who met their gaze. In their true form, they had long, slender tails that trailed behind them, and their movements were fluid and graceful, akin to that of a fish.
When they took on the form of other beings, they retained their otherworldly aura, which was unmistakable to those with the ability to sense such energies. They were known to possess a deep understanding of the forces of nature and magic and were said to be gifted with the power of telepathy, enabling them to communicate with others on a level that transcended the limitations of language.
Michael walked through the enchanted garden, his senses overwhelmed by the sights and sounds around him. The garden was a fantastical haven adorned with Mermons gracefully gliding through its lush flora, their tails shimmering like jewels in the ethereal light emitted by the glowing orbs that dangled from the branches. Wraiths flitted about the garden, their features shifting and changing with every passing moment. Earthens scurried among the flowers and trees, their scales gleaming in the dappled light.
The air was filled with the fragrance of blooming flowers and the sweet songs of exotic birds. Everywhere Michael looked, there were new and wondrous sights to behold. Each corner of the garden seemed to hold a new secret, a new marvel to behold. Strange and exotic plants bloomed all around him, their colors and shapes, unlike anything he had ever seen before.
As soon as Michael entered the garden, the mermons, wraiths, and earthens looked down upon him with disdain. They saw him as just another Inferior, someone from outside their world. Whispers and murmurs filled the air as they watched him approach. Some even backed away as if he might contaminate them with his presence. Despite their reactions, Michael pressed on, giving no damn about them. Little did the people know that he wasn't really an Inferior but disguised himself as one for this mission. In his own world, he was known as the feared Dark Lord, but here he was, just another face in the crowd.
When Michael passed them, he overheard some of the murmurs among the crowd.
"Look at that Inferior, probably lost or looking for scraps,"
"Why would an Inferior be in this part of the city? They don't belong here,"
"Disgusting, Inferiors should know their place,"
As the crowd's murmurs continued to fill the air, Michael brushed them off and headed towards the tavern. Above the entrance, he spotted a board with the words "Great Whale" etched onto it. It looked warm and inviting, with the soft glow of luminescent orbs casting a welcoming light upon its wooden exterior.
Michael couldn't help but be intrigued by the lively sounds emanating from within the tavern, despite his concern for Harry. He wondered if any of the patrons had seen or heard anything about his son's whereabouts, although he very well knew it was unlikely. The scent of spiced seafood and ale wafts out into the street, tantalizing passersby with promises of delicious food and drink.
Michael stepped into the Great Whale and was greeted with a vibrant scene. The interior was brightly lit with candles and lanterns, casting a warm glow on the faces of the patrons. The interior was brightly lit with candles and lanterns, casting a warm glow on the faces of the patrons. Meanwhile, the sound of raucous laughter and lively chatter filled the room, creating an energetic atmosphere that was difficult to ignore.
As he scanned the room, he noticed a mix of different races, each lost in their own conversations or huddled around the bar. However, one race seemed to be conspicuously missing - the mermons. He couldn't spot a single mermon in the entire tavern, and it made him wonder if they avoided socializing with other races altogether.
Despite the boisterous atmosphere, Michael's attention was drawn to a group of earthens sitting in the corner, deep in conversation. He couldn't help but overhear them talking about some recent events in the city, and he wondered if they had any clues that the Dark Lord was among them.
Michael's eyes adjusted to the bright interior as he scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of Dillion. He had been given the name by Mutrad, a contact who was supposed to help him find the one who forged the shark head medallion. With the lively music played by a group of minstrels in the corner and patrons dancing, Michael made his way through the throngs of people, carefully squeezing between tables to avoid bumping into anyone.
When he was about to ask the bartender, who was an Inferior, Michael noticed someone sitting on the corner alone. In the dim candlelight on the table, Michael saw a youngster who had fiery red hair, freckles splattered across his nose and cheeks, and a fearful expression etched on his face. His eyes darted around the room as though he was ready to bolt at any moment. Michael sensed this was not the type of person to go on adventures or willingly involve themselves in risky situations. Instead, he looked like he spent a lot of time in shady places, surrounded by unsavory characters.
Michael was certain that the red-haired youngster he saw was Dillion, as he matched the exact description provided by Mutrad. There was no mistaking it. Upon Michael's approach, Dillon's eyes narrowed slightly as if sizing him up with a quick once-over. However, after a moment, he seemed to relax and offer a small smile, conveying that he wasn't entirely hostile to Michael's presence.
"You must be Dillion," said Michael before pulling back a chair and taking a seat opposite him.
"Do you know who I am?" After Michael took a seat opposite Dillion, he asked the young man.
In response, a sudden glimmer of shock and fear emerged in Dillion's eyes, causing Michael to notice how his body stiffened and recoiled slightly at the sound of his voice. A bead of sweat formed on Dillion's forehead, and his eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route. It was evident to Michael that Mutrad must have warned Dillion about him and perhaps even told him that Michael was the notorious Dark Lord.
"Hmm," Dillion nodded slowly, his body still tense with fear.
"I know you must be scared, Dillion," Michael said in a calm and reassuring tone. "But I'm not here to harm you. Mutrad sent me to find you. He said you could help me with something,"
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