Chapter 67: Lord of the Eye

“What are your current plans? Igro, you first—no, I should call you Sakavi.”

“Just call me Igro! I like this name, and it also helps conceal my true identity. After this demonic invasion ends, I’ll decide whether to continue serving the Duke based on what I gain—after all, wandering everywhere isn’t necessarily better than having a fixed territory and legal status.”

“Boss, I want a floating city. If you can satisfy me, I’ll keep following you—I’m Morax, and I’m truly a dragon-beast.”

“I want territory equivalent to the entire Ironhoof Wasteland—whether you cede your current lands or seize new ones, I don’t care. As for my name, I still prefer Vex.”

“Aquilon, what’s your opinion? You’re the only one left who hasn’t spoken.”

“I plan to judge what I want based on the outcome of this war. I don’t have high hopes for this complicated conflict. After it’s over, I can always ask you for my share.”

“Good. Since you’re willing to continue serving me, I’m reassured—but this is still a gamble. To ensure we have an escape route if we fail, I intend to find a temporary territory. Aquilon, I entrust this task to you.”

…………

When Sakavi and Sulede passed through the gate guarded by two tamed petrified oxen, the sight before him made Sakavi instantly hold his breath—the city built and ruled by the eye demon was something he had never heard of before.

The entire city’s “sky” was an endless expanse of giant glowing moss emitting deep blue and sickly green light, resembling a living star map whose radiance simulated “day” and “night” cycles according to the will of its legendary eye demon ruler.

Countless tiny fluorescent spores floated in the air, like living dust, providing basic illumination for the streets. Rangers would immediately notice there were no shadows to hide in, since light came from all directions—clearly, this eye demon had suffered more than its share of abuse from drow elves.

All structures—houses, bridges, towers—were perfect geometric forms: spheres, cubes, cones, connected by massive stone cantilevers and arcades, suspended above the ground or pressed against the cavern’s dome. Their surfaces were mirror-smooth, without windows, only regularly spaced openings resembling observation slits or firing ports.

The city as a whole was a vast, continuously inward-spinning spiral. According to Sulede’s explanation, the closer to the center, the grander the buildings and the higher the status of the inhabitants. It was a three-dimensional urban layout—passages existed not just on the ground, but above and below.

Besides the eye demon lord, the city housed his countless kin—eye demons of varying sizes. They floated in midair, their central eyes scanning everything with cold indifference; some worked independently on different tasks—one reading a floating scroll, another supervising construction, yet another on guard duty. They were said to be the city’s administrators, judges, and engineers.

Of course, the most numerous were the tamed kuo-toa. Their eyes were vacant, their movements precise and coordinated, like worker ants executing specific labor: maintaining the glowing moss, transporting goods, cleaning streets. They barely communicated with each other, receiving orders entirely through a psychic network emitted by the eye demons.

At a marketplace, Sakavi saw some bottom-dwelling devil fish confined in special cages; according to the vendor, they were traded as “living knowledge repositories.” Some rarer creatures were also present—such as orcs with their tusks removed—used as gladiators or heavy laborers, highly sought-after goods in the Underdark.

In one corner of the market, there was no shouting—only an eerie silence. Transactions occurred directly through psychic Ganying between buyer and seller, usually eye demon merchants and members of other races. The goods were equally unusual: memory crystals containing specific skills or knowledge; various strange fungi, from luminous ones to living mushrooms that secreted strong acid.

There were also numerous magical materials—such as bound soul gems, imprisoning wailing spirits as magical energy sources; eyelashes from artificially bred petrified lizards, used in making anti-petrification potions.

Here, Sakavi also discovered many things he’d never heard of—like the brain slug, a slug kept in a crystal jar, its brain partially transparent, revealing faint internal streams of light. It was said that placing it on a book or scroll allowed it to rapidly “read” and memorize the content, then “recite” it back to the user via psychic Ganying —though a special array was required for assistance.

A carpet of blue-glowing fungi, when stepped on, rippled and briefly displayed fleeting memory images not your own. This was called a memory fungal carpet, usable for recording important meetings, spell experiments, or even “erasing” unwanted memories.

A complete phasing spider silk sac—a warm, milky-white sphere within which something seemed to rotate. Squeezing out its silk created force fields impervious to ordinary physical barriers. It was also a core material for crafting space equipment like “dimensional bags,” far more primitive yet powerful than surface-world techniques.

Nerve cords from shadow plane creatures—a strand of living black smoke, constantly writhing. This was top-tier enchanting material; woven into robes or cloaks, it granted the wearer the ability to teleport through the shadow plane like an assassin. It could also serve as a “wire” for constructing thinking golems or constructs.

One of the most dangerous and expensive items here was the dormant juvenile soulreaper—a pale, miniature octopus-like creature sealed within transparent amber-like resin. Used primarily for forbidden research, as a “catalyst” in extremely powerful psychic-related rituals, or as a medium for certain necromantic magic.

Only the most insane mages dared touch it—luckily, Sakavi was one. He bought one on the spot, planning to study it thoroughly when he had time. Looking at the figures hidden beneath various cloaks, Sakavi suddenly felt he wasn’t so insane after all—there were far crazier humans around. Of course, no one would believe him.

People used to say that in large planes, even Shuan a dog could break into legend. Sakavi always thought this was just a metaphor for abundant opportunities. Today he realized it was a literal description of the plane’s reality—in the Red Moon Plane, lone wanderers could build their own civilizations.

“Sulede, when are you and Inolin planning to marry?”

“My Lord, this isn’t urgent. We still have too many matters to handle, and I’ve only known her for a year—this is still too soon.”

“Some things must be seized when they appear; if you wait a few years, the chance may vanish. Besides, this demonic invasion isn’t trivial—it won’t be resolved in less than decades. You can wait, but can she?”

“I understand your meaning, My Lord, but we haven’t prepared anything yet—it’s too rushed. The earliest we could manage is six months.”

“Leave this to Verna. She’s always idle, complains my court isn’t exciting enough, and drags you off to the Mechanical Realm as adventurers. But come to think of it—how come those dragon-beasts haven’t broken into legend rank?”

“Because those are real dragon-beasts. Dragon-beasts generally have lower intelligence than dragons, with only a few exceptions—but it doesn’t matter. With enough battle experience, they can still break through. Most legendary beings are like that.”

“Alright. But I’m curious—how exactly do you manage to come and go freely without enslaving the eye demon lord?”

“Three years ago, this city was besieged by drow elves. We rescued it at a critical moment, and after staying here a long time, we naturally became friends with the eye demon lord. These eye demons are different from those in Red Moon—they’re not so unreasonable.”

“So was that siege planned by you? I doubt such coincidence exists.”

“Not exactly planned by us—Verna merely gave a slight nudge, and her kin came. We didn’t orchestrate any conspiracy. Would you like to meet the eye demon lord? He’s the founder of this city, and as a child, he traveled widely with a human mage.”

“Let’s go meet him. When visiting someone’s domain, it’s improper not to pay respects.” With that, the two left the marketplace and headed toward the eye demon lord’s palace.

“Young black dragon, welcome to the Hall of Thousand Eyes.” Suddenly, a voice echoed in Sakavi’s mind. At Sulede’s gesture, he looked upward and saw a massive eye floating beside a structure to the upper left. Its spherical main body, covered in dark purple chitinous armor, held a giant central eye filled with a scrutinizing curiosity.

Several flexible ocular stalks slowly danced around it, each tipped with an eye glowing with different hues. No sound was heard, yet a clear, smooth, emotionless telepathic message directly imprinted itself into Sakavi’s consciousness—in flawless Astral Common.

In this multiverse, countless languages exist. To facilitate communication, the Pantheon invented an official language system, transmitted through its recognized divine sects to every corner. Yet due to various reasons, many dialectal differences remain; many clerics must first learn standard pronunciation.

“I am Sakavi, a necromantic black dragon mage. Lord Eye Demon, how should I address you?”

“I am ‘Mirror of All Things,’ Sykes. Eye demons are loners—we have no family, no corresponding surname. Would you care to come inside and sit?”

“I’d be delighted!” As the two followed the guiding eye demon through a silently sliding force field door, they didn’t enter a room—they stepped into the interior of another living being’s skull.

Replacing walls and pillars were countless thick and thin energy veins, emitting soft biological luminescence. Like a vast neural network, they twisted, converged, and pulsed in darkness, forming the entire space’s skeleton and pathways. Walking on them, one felt faint energy flows.

Floating in the space were many structures resembling biological organs: slowly opening and closing spherical sacs filled with liquid light; crystalline clusters constantly reconfiguring their geometric forms, emitting rhythmic ticking sounds like computation; giant, motionless biological eyes reflecting myriad scenes within. According to the eye demon, these were modified organs of some creature.

In the deepest chamber, three enormous eye demons floated at the convergence of neural veins, dozens of ocular stalks each connected to a major information stream, seemingly processing multiple tasks simultaneously. Based on Sakavi’s experience, these were the city’s high-level administrators, each responsible for a portion of governance.

One ocular stalk gracefully offered a drink composed of pure energy, containing a small “memory fragment.” Sulede’s was a tranquil starry sky; Sakavi’s, a lost elven poem. This was not meant to be drunk, but experienced mentally—an eye demon’s highest courtesy.

The eye demon lord’s voice echoed again in his mind: “Welcome to my Mind Palace, traveler from afar. Follow me now—what you see here is both real and illusory. I believe you will find it most fascinating.”

Sakavi saw a wedge-shaped object about a foot long, seemingly made of rough black iron. Yet it had no fixed form—its edges constantly blurred and reconfigured, as if simultaneously existing in multiple overlapping states. Most bizarrely, its shape could not be accurately described in words; once he looked away, his memory of it became contradictory and chaotic.

“This is a ‘concept corpse’ peeled from the consciousness remnant of a half-god mage who attempted to forcibly define ‘infinity’ or ‘self-reference’—and failed. I call it the ‘Paradox of Logic Wedge.’”

Following the eye demon lord’s gesture, Sakavi saw a tiny world, no larger than a fingernail, imprisoned within a transparent crystal sphere. Within it, miniature mountains, rivers, and clouds were visible. But this plane was trapped in an infinite time loop—a continent was visibly rising, then immediately swallowed by the ocean, then reset, endlessly repeating.

“This is a failed experiment in plane creation. My master obtained it from a chaotic temporal current centuries ago—he’s been dead for hundreds of years now. He named it ‘The Cycle’s Prison.’”

Do you see this simple ring, made of dull, unknown metal? It hovers and slowly rotates on its own. No magical aura, astonishingly plain. Yet any matter or energy thrown into it reappears at the other end as its ‘origin.’ Rumored to have been crafted by a time dragon.”

“Lord Sykes, your collection is truly astonishing. You’re less a ruler of the Underdark and more a scholar.”

“You’re quite right. I prefer studying rules—for the path to godhood is the understanding and application of rules. I hear you specialize in necromancy. Perhaps we could exchange insights.”

“Yes. Most necromancy in this world operates on the soul level. I seek rule-based magic—like altering established facts.”