In the multiverse, with very few exceptions like the Material Plane, most realms are inhabited by deities, often more than one.
In the Shadowfell, besides the Goddess of Night, Shar, there resides another deity: Mask, the God of Shadows and Thieves.
In the grand scheme of things, there is always a hierarchy of power, and deities are no exception. Shar stands among the most powerful and highest-ranking deities in existence, while Mask pales in comparison.
However, even in his inferiority, Mask remains an unattainable being compared to mortals.
What complicates matters further is that the relationship between Mask and Shar is far from amicable—which is normal, as few evil deities get along. Fortunately, both deities share a penchant for subtlety and cunning, preferring intricate schemes over direct violence. As such, despite their discord, they maintain a veneer of peace.
Conversely, beneath this false harmony lies endless underhand struggle.
Neither deity is alone; they both command legions of followers. It's impossible for Shar's followers to attack Mask's Shadowfort, and equally implausible for Mask's minions to raid Shar's Lost Temple. Such overt actions are unacceptable to both sides.
But if the followers of these two deities happen to encounter each other in the wild and can swiftly eliminate the opposition without escalating into a prolonged battle, disposing of the bodies and later denying any involvement, pretending it never happened... then, they wouldn't mind engaging in a small skirmish.
Wraithcity, undoubtedly belonging to Shar's realm, has crossed paths with Mask's followers before. Yet, this encounter carries a peculiar aura. What brings Mask's minions near Wraithcity? Spying on enemy territory? Or plotting something else? Could they be specifically ambushing this small detachment? The last possibility seems unlikely.
With battle already underway, pondering over these questions serves no purpose. Magical lights and sounds continuously erupt from the shadowy mist ahead, signalingan intense clash. The airship where Lion is stationed, along with several others, maintains a crescent formation, advancing together. In the distance to the side, fireworks-like lights shoot skyward, indicating Wraithcity has received the message and dispatched reinforcements.
Although it's known that the enemies are Mask's followers, the specifics remain unclear. Mask's subjects in the Shadowfell lack independent organizations like Wraithcity, residing instead within the deity's divine realm, including祈并者 (here translated as "devotee spirits") and tamed shadow creatures.
If it were shadow creatures, they might be easier to handle. Devotee spirits, however, pose a challenge. Devotee spirits are the new forms taken by the souls of the deity's mortal followers after death, within the divine realm. They are neither fully alive nor ghosts but possess tangible forms often stronger than they were in life. Lower-tier devotee spirits cannot leave the divine realm freely or they will dissipate—so any devotee spirit encountered in the wild must be of higher rank.
Two apprentice clerics have already begun chanting spells. Having reserved some strength during the "military exercise," they can no longer hold back. Shamefully, these two ignore their companions, casting their last spell on themselves.
Frankly, expecting a cleric of the Goddess of Night to put others before themselves is as unrealistic as expecting a pie to fall from the sky.
The airships have advanced into the battlefield, revealing the enemy's figures. Fear turns to reality; the enemies, hooded and clad in leather armor, their faces covered in black cloth, are unmistakably Mask's devotee spirits. The God of Shadows and Thieves favors this attire for his followers.
Though lacking airships, they possess natural flight abilities and were often skilled thieves in life, making them difficult to对付 (here translated as "confront") amidst crossbow and magical attacks. Fortunately, their numbers seem limited—only four or five, manageable. In the blink of an eye, one is struck by a magical crossbow bolt, screaming as they fall headfirst to their doom from such a height.
On Lion's airship, a robed mage gently waves his staff, the skulls at its tip clacking together, causing a chilling sound that makes one's teeth ache. A translucent shadow barrier suddenly rises, encasing the entire airship like a giant bubble. Two soldiers remain, one on guard while the other prepares a spell. Lion and the other interns need only protect themselves.
Oddly, the soldier pulls out a mixture of talcum powder infused with silver dust… Is he using a spell to detect invisibility?
As soon as the thought crosses his mind, the spell is cast. As the talcum powder scatters, several short figures suddenly materialize from the shadowy mist surrounding the airships, hooded, clad in leather armor, faces covered, wielding short blades and poised to strike. Simultaneously, similar assassins emerge around other airships, heading straight for their respective commanding officers.
Mask's devotee spirits, skilled in stealth, used decoys to engage upfront while the main force hid within the shadowy mist, sneaking to the rear. The fleet's first four airships are equipped with magical ballistae, but the six following are merely flying wooden rafts with weak armaments, a vulnerable link.
Judging by their small numbers, this doesn't seem like a premeditated ambush; they might have been engaging in some secret activity near Wraithcity and were unexpectedly encountered. Now, heading straight for the high-ranking officers, they likely aim to capture hostages for a negotiated retreat. Otherwise, even if they manage to assassinate the officers, Wraithcity's reinforcements will soon arrive, leaving no escape for these Mask's devotee spirits.
Like their deity, Mask's followers are selfish and cunning, unlikely to undertake suicidal attacks. They wouldn't resort to mutually assured destruction. Wraithcity emphasizes elitism, investing heavily in cultivating high-ranking officers, whom they won't easily sacrifice. Therefore, capturing officers could likely lead to an agreement between the two sides. Similar incidents have occurred before.
Besides, they bear no deep grudges against each other.
As expected, once their presence is revealed, the attackers no longer hide, charging forward. Their movements are swift; in the blink of an eye, three devotee spirits board the airship.
Upon stepping onto the airship, they immediately sense something is off. The shadow barrier cast by the robed mage, though harmless, feels like a viscous liquid. Intruders find themselves trapped in a muddy space, their movements slowing down.
Seeing the enemies aboard, the mage remains calm despite mages' aversion to close combat. He points, firing a gray beam from his fingertip at the lead attacker. Meanwhile, two red beams streak toward them, cast by Lion's classmates using magic missiles.
Mages generally avoid wearing armor or carrying shields due to the inconvenience it causes for spellcasting, leaving them vulnerable on the battlefield, particularly when enemies close in. Fortunately, magic missiles are simple, quick spells… though their power is weak… When cast by a high-ranking mage, they can be impressive, but from two apprentice wizards, they barely make an impact.
The foremost devotee spirit hit by the mage's gray beam staggers and collapses, though not dead, as their face still contorts in anger, likely just drained of strength. Two magic missiles accurately strike another, thudding against their chest, but they merely pause briefly before continuing their assault unaffected. Behind them, the third devotee spirit follows closely, their proximity suggesting a collision, but it's an effective covering maneuver.
There are six interns on this airship. The two apprentice clerics, having cast their final spells on themselves, hide far away, offering no help. Of the four wizard students, besides Lion, the other three are only in their fourth year. Two have already used their magic missiles, presumably exhausting their prepared spells and losing combat effectiveness.
As for Lion, he had exhausted most of his prepared spells earlier… Actually, he still has one left, but he's reluctant to use it unless absolutely necessary.
Fortunately, these interns don't need to fight; they're here for military training, gaining combat experience under army supervision. In real emergencies, the soldiers handle it.
The soldier who dispelled invisibility steps back to create distance, reaching into his pocket for materials to cast the next spell. Another soldier draws a warhammer from his waist, blocking the two devotee spirits.
They cooperate seamlessly, clearly well-trained.
The robed mage waves his staff, chanting, as the skulls on its tip suddenly snap open, revealing sharp white teeth and exhaling a dense cloud of black mist. Clearly, a powerful necromancy spell is about to be unleashed.
Necromancy is among the most ruthless of magical schools, often resulting in instant death if not resisted. Mask's devotee spirits rarely practice magic, but recognizing the situation, they prepare to counter. However, the black mist rapidly transforms into a terrifying face—closed eyes, sunken nose, and disproportionately large mouth. As the eyes suddenly open, the surrounding air grows icy cold, and the face lurches forward, its massive mouth snapping shut on the head of one devotee spirit.
With a sickening "crack," the face bites off half the man's head, brain matter splattering, the body falling on the airship, limbs still twitching. It's a revolting sight