The whispers of Set echoed in the sandstorm, like relentless roars, only to be swallowed by the merciless yellow sand. He was trapped in the depths of that forgotten palace, sealed between time and dust. His anger, his ambition, his pain all transformed into invisible waves trying to pierce the veil of reality, cursing Ian.
However.
Ian had already flown far away.
He transformed into a raven, unaffected by any curse.
Sweeping over the golden Desert Sea.
His figure gradually blurred on the horizon, as if he had never existed. His magic potion bag was filled with divine alchemy props, along with those manuscripts and documents inscribed with ancient knowledge.
The reason he ventured into Set’s divine hall was never to rescue the divine spirits, but to collect materials, study magic, and expand the boundaries of knowledge.
Set’s screams were destined to go unheard, like whispers carried away by the wind in the desert, ultimately returning to nothingness. Of course, Ian’s journey was not over.
The purpose of his trip was to collect three items; he had only gathered one of them so far. Now he needed to head to the domain of the Nether God in Ancient Egypt to "borrow" something — the Nether River Oar. Although strictly speaking, the lord of the Netherworld is Osiris, Anubis, as the God of Death guarding the Netherworld, also holds the authority to control the Nether River.
In Ancient Egyptian mythology, the Netherworld is ruled by Osiris, who is the judge of the dead and the divine king of the Netherworld. But the one truly responsible for the order of the Netherworld and guiding souls is the God of Death, Anubis — He is the God of Passage in the Netherworld, holding a scale, weighing the hearts of the dead, deciding whether they are worthy to enter the Netherworld.
"To borrow the oar, naturally, you must find the ferryman." Ian knew, although Osiris is the true master of the Netherworld, the divine artifact like the Nether River Oar is really governed by Anubis.
After all, Osiris has long been elevated to a higher level deity, no longer managing these details personally. And Anubis, as the gatekeeper of the Netherworld, is the deity truly carrying out the duties.
Hmm.
Isn’t this just like the difference between a civil servant and outsourced worker? Ian headed east, traversing the desert and wasteland, finally arriving at the Temple of Anubis — an ancient structure standing at the boundary between death and life. The temple was located in the desert on the west bank of the Nile River, the buildings made of obsidian glimmering coldly under the setting sun.
The temple was built on a black basalt hill, surrounded by lifeless dunes and weathered stone pillars. The air was filled with the scent of spices and death, as if even time kept its distance. The giant statue of a jackal head symbolizing Anubis stood at the temple’s entrance, its hollow eye sockets seemingly capable of piercing through souls.
Ian landed in front of the temple, transformed back into human form, adjusted his robe, and walked up the stone steps slowly. He did not hide his purpose nor conceal his identity.
He knew.
This place had long been aware of his arrival.
The temple doors slowly opened, and a priest wearing a white robe and a jackal-faced mask came out. He was tall, with piercing eyes, exuding a faint wave of divine power.
"Who are you?" The priest’s voice was deep and authoritative, "Why have you come to the sanctuary of the God of Death?"
Upon hearing this, Ian smiled slightly, his tone calm, "I have come to borrow something."
He tried to maintain an air of sophistication.
However.
Due to limited acting skills, he did not give off an unfathomable impression to the other party.
"Living person, this is not a place for you to come."
The priest’s voice was low and hoarse, like sandpaper scraping. He was not pleased with Ian’s arrival; instead, he wanted to persuade Ian to leave this place quickly.
Ian smiled slightly.
"I want to go to the Nether River."
He believed in the principle that if others don’t give, then he will take it himself.
The jackal mask on the priest slightly shifted, as if assessing him.
"Only the dead can enter the Netherworld." The priest paused for a moment, then slowly shook his head, "Only the dead can enter the Netherworld, and living beings who set foot there will surely be cursed."
His brow furrowed slightly.
This priest had met curious wizards like Ian before, but he still belonged to the kind-hearted type, so most of the time he could persuade one or two.
"I know." Ian nodded, stating what he already knew, "But the Nether River is not completely unreachable. I know that the Netherworld exists in the Misty Illusion Realm, and this illusion realm is a domain circled by the divine spirits. You’ve built walls, set gates, and erected boundaries within it. What I need is just an entrance."
His argument was an often overlooked fact. The Misty Illusion Realm, a dimension between reality and fantasy, yet the deities relied on their divine systems to carve out domains within it.
Each claiming their territory.
Under normal circumstances, Ian couldn’t simply rely on "I wish to enter" to reach the territory occupied by the gods, which is why he must seek permission.
Ian was ultimately not the one with the highest authority in the Misty Illusion Realm.
"Hmm?"
The priest observed him with a complex emotion in his eyes.
"You’re clever." He said, "But clever people often die faster. Throughout the ages, how many have tried to break into the Netherworld, and has anyone ever returned alive?"
The priest clearly knew about the Misty Illusion Realm too.
He attempted persuasion once again.
But Ian only slightly lifted the corner of his mouth.
"So... there is a way in?"
He completely ignored the priest’s warning.
"Why are you so determined to walk a path of no return? Young wizard, you clearly have a bright future." "Go back, living person. Throughout the ages, there has never been an example of anyone returning from the Netherworld." The priest, after a moment of silence, still shook his head. He was quite fond of talented young wizards like Ian.
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