Iron Dragon's Advancement Journey

Page 142

　She neither confirmed nor denied Casalos's conjecture, but simply carried it deeper into Candlehold. She passed through several tightly closed stone doors. For a ghost, solid barriers were meaningless, but Casalos had to lift each one, finally arriving at a hidden circular hall almost inaccessible to humanoid beings.

　This is a semi-circular room, its outer walls composed of countless crystal panels, each engraved with intricate runes. In the center of the circular hall stands a massive crystal pillar, within which flows an icy blue magical light, like the blood of a living being.

　“This is the Hall of Memories.” Mireem’s voice was more ethereal than usual, echoing in the room. “It is my secret collection, where all the important memories I have ‘forgotten’ are preserved, solidified in magical crystals.”

　She floated to the crystal pillar, her transparent dragon head bowing down: "You want to know my past? Look, here are the answers you seek. But I warn you, some truths are not pleasant."

　As she spoke, the blue light in the crystal pillar intensified, projecting a series of images. In the images, a majestic, enormous silver dragon circled above Candlekeep, the storms whipped up by its wings nearly toppling the flags on the city walls.

　“This is me, more than eight hundred years ago,” Mireem explained softly, his voice tinged with an unreadable emotion. “Back then, I had just finished a difficult hunt, and the lack of food had left me in a bad mood. And Candlehold was right within my hunting grounds.”

　The scene shifts to a young Mireem landing on the grass outside Candlekeep, conversing with several humans dressed in white robes. The conversation is inaudible, but their body language suggests it's unpleasant. Suddenly, the silver dragon exhales a blast of icy breath, freezing two of the humans into ice sculptures. She then storms into Candlekeep, rampaging through the city, destroying numerous buildings and bookshelves…

　“Nineteen years.” Mireem’s voice suddenly turned sorrowful and heavy. “Just one more year, and I would be free again…”

　The scene shifted abruptly. Thors was performing some kind of ritual within a complex magic circle when suddenly, a black rift appeared in the air. A cold, gray-black wind blew out from the rift, engulfing the old mage's figure and extinguishing his soul like a candle being blown out. At the same time, the golden contract runes binding Mireem suddenly turned deep purple, piercing beneath her scales and branding themselves into her flesh and soul.

　“That night, I felt an unprecedented chill seep into my bones.” Mireem’s voice turned icy cold. “I knew something had changed. Tors was dead, and I… my sentence had been extended.”

　Casalos frowned in thought: "The power of the Styx." It recognized the dark gray energy. "Torse attempted to contact the Underworld, but the contract was corrupted by the Styx."

　Mirim didn't respond directly; the images in the crystal pillar continued to play. The scene then shifted towards a horror film—the silver dragon's behavior completely changed. She became increasingly violent and savage, aimlessly wandering through Candlekeep, terrifying visiting mages and scholars. Most horrifyingly, she would repeatedly describe in various languages ​​the gruesome deaths of the mages she had killed with her dragon's breath, and the invaluable knowledge recorded on the scrolls frozen to dust by her frost breath...

　Moreover, these descriptions are always slightly off; the ones who die are always the listener's friends and family, and the ones who are lost are always the information that the owner of those ears desperately needs.

　“Your description doesn’t sound like a misunderstanding,” one of the mages in the crystal shouted, before bursting into maniacal laughter as if he were having a mental breakdown.

　“I know what I’ve done,” Mireem said softly, his eyes dimming. “I’ve made them know what it feels like to be bound by indefinite imprisonment, and made them experience the despair of losing hope.”

　Casalos remained silent; it understood everything the enraged dragon had done.

　The images within the crystal continued to shift, showing dozens of young scholars attempting suicide due to Mireem's unbearable torture, only to be saved by the silver dragon's spells each time. Initially, she did this under duress from the contract, but later it seemed to stem from some strange motive.

　“I want to see these accomplices suffer terribly, wishing they were dead,” Mireem confessed, the ghost’s voice carrying an ancient malice. “They could have helped me break the contract, but they chose to ignore and exploit me.”

　Casalos nodded. To a dragon, betrayal and imprisonment were unforgivable sins. Even the kindest silver dragon was still a dragon, and Mireem's revenge wasn't even considered cruel in the dragon's eyes—after all, the human was still alive, wasn't he?

　As the story continues, it arrives at the "Year of the Celestials." A group of wild mages claiming to be from the "Tower of Mountains" launch an attack on Candlehold, attempting to destroy this fortress of knowledge using some kind of special magic. Driven by the contract, Mireem fights back fiercely and successfully repels the first wave of attacks.

　“But they came again the following year.” Mireem’s voice became very low. “That time I couldn’t stop them…”

　The image within the crystal became blurry and chaotic, flashing with intense magical light. When the image cleared again, the silver dragon's physical form had vanished, replaced by a cloud of silver mist—Mirim in his ghostly form.

　“They killed me, but the power of the contract remains,” Mireem said. “I have ‘resurrected’ and become undead—but that does not mean liberation.”

　Casalos pondered, "The power of the contract..." Becoming a ghost seemed to have made things worse. The ghost Mireem in the image was almost omnipresent; she could even infiltrate the mages' dreams, tormenting them even in their sleep.

　“The scholars of Candlehold are astonished by the power of the Yego Pact,” Mireem continued, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “They tried to rid themselves of this ‘nightmare,’ only to find that I cannot be truly destroyed. Killing me is easy, but I always resurrect, each time stronger than the last.”

　The images in the crystal confirmed her words, showing that the mages tried time and again to destroy the ghost Mirim, but she always managed to reappear, and each time she revived, she was stronger and more difficult to deal with.

　“The inherent logic of the contract is simple: a guardian who can die is not a good guardian,” Mireem explained. “If I die, it must be because Candlekeep has encountered a powerful enemy. If I revive without strengthening myself, wouldn’t that just repeat the same mistake?”

　Casalos couldn't help but marvel at the power of the Styx; though twisted, it was undeniably formidable. It even thought of a certain missing Death Hunter, who was now a strange dragon born from the Styx…

　The new crystal revealers gathered vast resources and used a complex sealing spell to imprison Mirim in a storage room beneath Candlekeep. They cleverly exploited a loophole in the contract, claiming that "this place is also part of Candlekeep and needs to be protected," thus restricting Mirim's movement.

　"And so I was forgotten." Mireem's voice became utterly calm, like stagnant water in a dark well. "When people's research into the contract entangled with my soul made no progress, they lost interest. As time passed, fewer and fewer mages survived, and fewer and fewer people remembered my existence..."

　The light from the crystal pillar gradually dimmed, and the final scene showed Mireem wandering alone in the dark basement, occasionally "talking" to mushrooms and stones, trying to imbue them with the ability to speak. The piles of dead bones around her indicated that some unfortunate adventurers had indeed tried to help her, but all had ended in failure.

　“Until Mireem became what we see now,” Casalos said softly, “a ghost that goes around the central tower and speaks to people, a forgotten guardian.”

　Mireem's ghostly form floated in the air, her translucent dragon silhouette appearing eerily lonely in the candlelight. Her silver eyes gazed at Casalos: "Now you know the truth, Iron Dragon. Are you still willing to help me?"

　Casalos pondered for a moment: "I already understand that the contract cannot be directly dissolved. In fact, as far as I know, even if the gods themselves were to appear, they would be powerless to change a contract corrupted by the power of the Styx."

　Disappointment flashed in Mireem's eyes, but Casalos immediately smiled:

　“But that doesn’t mean we can’t break free from these constraints,” Casalos said confidently. “In fact, the wise mages of Candlehold have already provided us with the answer.”

　Mireem looked at it, puzzled: "What answer?"

　“The method they used when sealing you in the underground vault,” Casalos explained. “They used the wedge of ‘This place is also part of Candlekeep and urgently needs protection’ to bypass the direct constraints of the contract and modify your sphere of influence. This proves one thing: this contract allows for the addition of additional clauses.”

　A glimmer of hope shone in Mireum's eyes; for the first time in nearly a thousand years, she felt the possibility of freedom.

　Casalos continued his analysis and explanation:

　“I have carefully studied the contents of your contract: ‘Mirium must do everything in his power to protect the personal safety of the dragon vein sorcerers and mages of Candlekeep, and to ensure that the buildings and various documents are not lost or damaged.’”

　The key words of the contract were outlined by the shaping light magic: "Did you notice? There is no limit to the location and scope of 'Candle Castle' here."

　Mireem's eyes widened: "You mean..."

　“We can introduce a new supplementary clause,” Casalos’s voice was full of calculation and strategy. “Dragonvellist sorcerers and mages who learn the knowledge of Candlehold will possess Candlehold identity, and the ultimate ownership of the spread of Candlehold knowledge will also belong to Candlehold. Therefore, wherever Candlehold knowledge spreads—”

　“This is all within my territory!” Mireem’s voice was filled with barely concealed surprise.

　Casalos nodded: "But this requires the Lords of Candlecrest, the Guardians of the Scrolls, and the Great Readers to first acknowledge these rules... For your own freedom, are you willing to become a staunch supporter of publicly disseminating the knowledge of Candlecrest?"

　Mirim fell silent again, then the ghostly figure began to stretch in the air, becoming more solid and luminous than before: "Iron Dragon, you are the first one to truly understand the essence of the contract. Yes, I am willing to help you spread the knowledge of Candlehold, not only for my own freedom, but perhaps more so because this is the very meaning of knowledge."

　Casalos nodded in satisfaction: "Next, we need to figure out how to add additional clauses to the contract. Judging from the previous actions of the Candlecast mages, this should require some special rituals and spells. If they have recorded the relevant methods as a reference, it will be much easier to carry out."

　“I know where to find the relevant information,” Mireem’s voice became firm. “Follow me.”

47. Planning

　The ghostly silver dragon took a long breath, exhaling a cloud of icy blue mist. The mist condensed in mid-air, transforming into tiny snowflakes that drifted down slowly. For a ghost, this action, which should have been meaningless, held a peculiar symbolism—she felt the chains binding her soul loosening.

　"We succeeded." Casalos's voice was filled with joy. "The contract accepted our additional terms."

　Within the crystal pillar, new, intricate patterns were woven into the silver chains of the contract, concealing within these elaborate designs the spells Casalos had just embedded. These patterns clung to the chains like parasitic vines, subtly eroding the original contract's power and guiding the energy flow in new directions.

　"A contract corrupted by the River Styx can still be altered..." Mireem's translucent dragon head swayed gently, his eyes gleaming with disbelief. "You really did it."

　Casalos humbly flapped his wings: "I'm merely building a bridge using the knowledge you already possess. According to the information you provided, the Candlecastle mages successfully modified your sphere of influence—overriding the original limitations with external conditions. What I've done is simply reverse that process, transforming limitations into possibilities." (The last line appears to be a separate, unrelated comment: "Menelin, you're busy, Lin, are you here...")

　"No, it's not just that." Mireem's ghostly form floated before Casalos, its transparent dragon eyes staring directly at him. "You've adjusted the definition of the rules, instead of directly opposing them. 'Candlehold' is no longer a concept of physical space, but has become an abstract existence. 'Candlehold's knowledge' has also transformed from physical books into an intangible flow of information. This is far more sophisticated than the crude sealing methods of those mages back then."

　Casalos chuckled softly: "This is a gift from Asgras. A true dragon's mind is flexible enough that it need not be bound by formalities."

　The core idea behind the added supplementary clauses is to expand the concept of "Candlecastle" from a physical building to a knowledge community. According to this definition, any act of disseminating Candlecastle knowledge is no longer considered "leaking secrets," but rather "an extension of knowledge."

　This seemingly simple conceptual shift is actually revolutionary. While ensuring that the Silver Dragon Wraith remains bound by the contract, it cleverly expands her sphere of activity, extending from within the walls of Candlehold to every corner where Candlehold's knowledge is disseminated.

　"However, merely changing the contract isn't enough," Casalos narrowed his eyes, his tail circling his body and gently stroking his chin. "The next step is crucial; we need to get the Candlehold authorities to recognize this change in definition."

　Mireem floated behind Casalos, his transparent dragon tail barely touching the ground: "Ulland will never accept this. That old stubborn man has been clinging to the idea that knowledge must be locked away in towers for centuries."

　"So we can't approach him directly, and it certainly can't be me or you who bring it up." Casalos shook his head. "We need to cultivate seeds of acceptance for the new ideas within Candlekeep, allowing change to occur naturally from within."

　"This will take time," Mireem murmured, "a very long time."

　"Time shouldn't be a problem for dragons." Casalos spread his wings, switching into Moonshadow Island Merchant form, which was more convenient for moving around in confined spaces.

　"For a dragon trapped for eight hundred years, it's really nothing." Mireem's ghost trembled slightly, a barely perceptible bitterness in his voice. "But what I'm worried about isn't time, but the method. How can I influence the scholars of Candlehold without arousing suspicion? If they do become suspicious of me, I can simply revise the terms of the agreement again."

　Casalos calmly sat down on the bench by the wall, propping his chin up with one hand and gesturing on the table with the other: "I have some ideas, about introducing a few concepts into the management system of Candlekeep."

　"What does that mean?"

　"Correspondence scholars, nominal scholars, intellectual property..." Casalos listed. These concepts didn't exist in Faerûn's nearly closed academic circles, but they were common knowledge management methods in his memories of his previous life. "Simply put, it's about extending Candleburg's 'sphere of influence' beyond physical boundaries while maintaining some form of control over knowledge—mainly nominal control."

　Mireem listened intently, the wisdom of the ancient silver dragon allowing her to quickly grasp the value of these new concepts: "These ideas... are indeed very appealing. Especially for scholars who crave influence yet fear the loss of their authority."

　"Exactly," Casalos nodded with a smile. "Candleburg can impart knowledge to learners from afar through correspondence courses. These learners become Candleburg's 'nominal scholars,' while Candleburg retains nominal ownership of the knowledge itself, maintains limited oversight of its application and dissemination, and profits from the application of that knowledge. This is the concept of 'intellectual property.'"

　In this way, Candleburg could both expand its influence and maintain its control over knowledge, while also collecting tuition fees or copyright fees… Conservatives like Ulland might object, but ambitious young scholars would certainly be attracted.

　Magical matters have magical solutions. Tuition and copyright fees for magic don't need to be forcibly collected by any violent organization; the magic network itself is the largest violent organization. Casalos says that Faerûn currently lacks this concept because similar concepts will become prevalent on the continent in the near future. Otherwise, what's the purpose of the gold coins in the casting materials for spells named after people and their effects, like the Big-Bid Big-Bid series of spells, Tasha's Maniacal Laughter, and Jim's Magic Missiles…?

　"Moreover," Casalos continued, "this aligns with the additional terms of our contract: knowledge is disseminated, and the 'territory' of Candlekeep expands accordingly."

　A brief silence fell over the two—or rather, the dragon and the ghost dragon. Casalos pondered how to find a suitable candidate, while Mireem assessed the character and stance of the various scholars.

　"Solaran." Casalos finally broke the silence. He had only been in Candlehold for a few days and hadn't met many Candlehold people, but the guide had left a good impression on him. Dragons are no exception to the tendency to form first impressions.

　"That young monk has great potential. He has a genuine love for knowledge, but lacks the arrogance and stubbornness of the old-school scholars of Candleburg."

　Surprisingly, Mireem agreed and offered more options: "He's certainly good. There's also Marian, Lisala's apprentice, and Duane, the young librarian... they're all relatively open to the dissemination of knowledge."

　"So," Casalos stood up, brushing off non-existent dust, "we have a preliminary plan. You can infiltrate their dreams and guide them to these new concepts without directly revealing our intentions."

　Mireem pondered for a moment: "Dream manipulation is a powerful but dangerous ability. This is not intimidation or a prank; to guide them, I need to infiltrate their minds for an extended period, which could easily leave traces and arouse suspicion."

　"So you need to be more careful and patient," Casalos said as he walked towards the exit. "Don't directly instill ideas, but rather use more indirect, inspiring methods. Let them discover the value of these ideas 'themselves.'"

　“I understand,” Mireem nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve decided on the dream intervention plan.” She spoke softly, her translucent form appearing mysterious and ethereal in the candlelight. “Each week, I will conduct a light dream guidance session with the targets, subtly planting hints to allow their dreams to naturally shift, fostering a vague interest in the sociological and philosophical aspects of knowledge dissemination. Afterward, before the next round of guidance, I will place the relevant books you gave me within their sight.” Casalos nodded: “A good plan. It allows them to actively learn and seek answers, which is more subtle than forcibly planting hints and will also strengthen their convictions.”

　"Since being trapped here, I've learned how to manipulate dreams without disturbing the sleepers," Mireem's voice held a hint of sadness. "It was one of the few comforts during those long, lonely years, and now, this skill has become one of the keys to my regaining my freedom—I don't know if that's ironic."

　“No power is inherently evil,” Casalos responded softly. “How it is used is the standard by which good and evil are distinguished… So, let our plan begin. Remember, don’t rush things. You have plenty of time. Let them slowly move towards those conclusions and gradually become the masters of Candlekeep. Change often needs to begin with tiny seeds, patiently taking root and sprouting until it becomes too powerful to ignore. And you, Mireem, you have waited eight hundred years. What harm is a few more years?”

　"You're right," Mireem's voice regained its calm, the composure and serenity characteristic of ancient dragons returning to her tone. "For a dragon, time is never an issue, as long as there is hope. But what about you? When will you leave Candlekeep?"

　Casalos stopped and glanced back at the massive crystal pillar in the center of the Hall of Memory: "I'll stay in Candlehold for a few more days to review some valuable information before leaving to continue my journey."

　"Will we meet again?" Mireem's voice held a barely perceptible lingering affection. For a ghost trapped for eight hundred years, Casaloz's brief visit was like a ray of light piercing through the long night, bringing unprecedented hope.

　"Of course." Casalos smiled. "Next time we meet, I hope to see you anywhere in Faerûn, not just in this stone fortress."

　Mireem nodded slightly, the silver ghost tracing an elegant arc in the air: "I will await that day."

　"I'm looking forward to it too." Casalos smiled as he watched Mireem disappear into the darkness before returning to his room alone to organize the information he had collected.

　Tao Na knocked gently on the door and came in, sitting gracefully on the edge of the bed.

　"How's it going?" she asked softly, her beautiful eyes filled with curiosity.

　"It went more smoothly than expected," Casalos replied, his voice unusually relaxed. "Mirim has accepted the mission, and we've successfully modified the contract. All that's left is to wait patiently."

　"Do you really believe you can change the way Candlekeep, this thousand-year-old fortress, operates?" Toona's voice held a hint of doubt. "Someone like Urland won't easily accept any change."

　Casalos smiled slightly: "Ulland is merely a stone in this long river. With enough flow, even the hardest stone will be worn down. Besides..."

　He paused for a moment: "The existence and operation of Candlecastle are essentially to fulfill a need—the preservation and transmission of knowledge. If a model emerges that can better meet this need, then change is inevitable, no matter how stubborn Urland may be."

　Tao Na nodded thoughtfully: "Just like the Iron Dragons' reforms to Waterdeep. When a new model proves its superiority, the old powers have no choice but to compromise or adapt if they want to survive."

　"That's right." Years of role-playing games had made Casalos accustomed to others commenting on him directly without his knowledge, so he felt no awkwardness or embarrassment. He neatly stacked several copied documents together. "The seeds of change have been sown for the future of Candlekeep. Mireem will assist these seeds in growing, and we should continue our honeymoon."

　"Is our honeymoon about flying wherever we can and overthrowing local rule?" Tao Na's slender fingers gently tossed a strand of silver hair. "You're so 'naughty,' but I like it... So where are we going next?"

　Casalos pondered for a moment. "Let's keep heading south. Perhaps we can make contact with those ogres and see if they have the potential to become subjects of your ambitious lord..." His eyes gleamed with excitement. "Their territory doesn't reject ogres."

　Tao Na nodded slightly without asking any further questions, and simply leaned in to undress him...

48. respectively

　The morning mist over Candlekeep gradually dissipated in the sea breeze. Casalos and Toona, in their human forms, stood at the end of Lion's Road, gazing back at this fortress of knowledge. Behind them, Ravenna was directing several strong northern mercenaries to carefully load heavy chests of books onto a merchant ship preparing to return to Luskan.

　"That's quite a substantial investment." Taona gently stroked a strand of silver hair, her gaze sweeping over the wooden boxes filled with handwritten books. "To get the monks of Candleburg to copy these books, you've almost spent a middle-class nobleman's entire year's income."

　“Indeed,” Casalos shrugged in agreement, “but that’s not our gold coin… Knowledge is worth far more than gold. Besides, these investments will eventually pay off—this knowledge will change the barbarians, change the Dawn Mast, and change Luskan. The harvest will be when she spreads *The Struggle*, *Problems of Tactics and Strategy*, and other Enlightenment ideas to every corner of Luskan.”

　Ravenna checked the seal on the last wooden crate and strode towards the two. The barbarian warrior's face beamed with barely concealed excitement; the scars on her back, forming a living chart, trembled slightly in the morning light, revealing her inner turmoil. (The last part, "美呢林想在空你林在在没呢...", is a nonsensical string of characters and doesn't translate directly.)

　"Thank you for all your support of the Dawnmast." She bowed solemnly to the two men. "This knowledge will completely change the future of Luskan, and it will change the fate of the oppressed throughout the Sword Coast and even the entire continent of Faerûn. I assure you, whatever the cost, we will spread the truth to the hearts of everyone who yearns for freedom."

　"Let me give you a piece of advice," Casalos cautioned. "Revolution is not a dinner party; it will inevitably be accompanied by countless bloodshed and sacrifices. Do not be discouraged by temporary setbacks or failures, nor be arrogant because of momentary victories, and certainly do not act rashly. This knowledge will change Luskan, change the Dawnmast, and change myself. To truly overthrow the rule of the Arcane Brotherhood, you need not only force, but also popular support and opportune timing. Proceed gradually, uniting all forces that can be united, so that you may ensure that the victory does not establish another tyranny."

　Ravenna nodded solemnly: "I understand. Dawn Mast will not repeat the mistakes of those blind uprisings. We will follow the theories in the book, first establishing a sound organizational system and cultivating a sufficient core force before considering the final battle."

　She paused for a moment, a hint of worry flashing in her eyes: "However, one problem has been troubling me. Those local merchants and minor nobles who have sided with the Arcane Brotherhood control the city's economic lifeline. Even if we overthrow the mage rule, how to deal with these vested interests remains a difficult problem."

　This is a sensitive question, but it's a reality that cannot be avoided.

　Casalos pondered for a moment before slowly speaking: "Remember one principle: distinguish between primary and secondary contradictions, and between the enemy and the middle forces that can be won over. Those small merchants, artisans, and even some minor nobles, although they have gained some benefits from the existing system, are still essentially suppressed by the Arcane Brotherhood. With the right methods, a considerable number of them can be won over."

　Tao Na added, drawing on her own experience, "Use both coercion and inducement. Those heinous criminals who have aroused public outrage should be severely punished. But for ordinary people who are just going with the flow, give them a chance to reform. After all, the normal operation of a city requires talent from all walks of life."

　Ravenna nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. Actually, there have been similar discussions within the Dawnmast. Some comrades advocated severely punishing all 'traitors,' but now it seems that such an approach is far too simplistic and brutal."

　The captain's urgent calls echoed in the distance; the merchant ship was preparing to set sail. Ravenna bowed to the two men again, then strode towards the dock. The sea breeze ruffled her rough black hair, her silhouette appearing resolute and determined.

　"An interesting two-legged creature," Toona commented. "It's hard to imagine a barbarian so quickly absorbing those complex political theories."

　"This is the power of enlightenment." Casalos watched the merchant ship sail away. "Barbarians aren't stupid, just more impulsive and easily angered. But when she truly understands the nature of oppression and the meaning of struggle, the barbarian's anger erupts into an astonishing learning ability and fighting spirit. Ravenna is no longer just a simple barbarian warrior; she has become a revolutionary."

　The two dragons watched the merchant ship disappear on the horizon, then turned south. By this time, the sun had fully risen, and golden sunlight shone on the calm sea, making it ripple and sparkle.

　"So, our next destination is Ascatella?" Toona asked. "Is there some kind of drama worth watching in that place overrun by ogres?"