As long as someone came here seeking the monks' help, they would introduce that miraculous spring.
Under the spring's healing power, almost anyone could be saved as long as they still had one breath left.
And whether they were liches, Vastaya, or humans, their injuries and illnesses could be removed in an instant.
With such a miraculous spring, Caleb could not help thinking of all those dungeons.
If the spring itself could heal all wounds and diseases, then why build those dungeons?
A lich-like figure came running over and offered almost all of his treasures to the monks before finally obtaining a place of shelter.
But he had not expected one thing, once all those things entered the storehouse, he, a lone drifter who had come here by himself, had already lost all value.
The dark dungeon was waiting for him.
Time passed. Caleb saw the arrival of that female general holding a spear.
Kalista at this time would never have imagined that it was precisely her loyalty that would cause her to be killed in the end, turning her into that undead spirit obsessed with vengeance.
When Viego's army arrived, what knocked open the gates of the Blessed Isles' harbor was still box after box of treasure.
When the monks saw so much wealth, their smiles grew so wide they almost seemed mad.
They promised that as long as the king's beloved still had even a breath left in her, the spring water of the Blessed Isles could save her.
What they did not say was that the people in the dungeons would have to endure multiplied pain in order to make the deadly poison spreading through the queen's body disappear.
They also did not say that even the dead could be awakened, as long as the price was right.
The king had already offered everything his kingdom could bring, but the monks were still not satisfied.
After all, he was a king. If they pushed a little harder, taking something more from his people should be easy, shouldn't it?
A dying beloved and a dead beloved came at two different prices.
Caleb saw an even more terrifying scene, amid people's suffering and fear of the unknown future, demons quietly climbed ashore and gorged themselves on those negative emotions.
The monks accepted the jewels and strange trinkets brought by the demons, then used shovel after shovel of ashes as fertilizer.
The plants flourished, species thrived, and without question, the Blessed Isles had truly become a "city of paradise."
But they made one mistake, they underestimated the king's determination to revive his beloved.
Even with warrior monks holding the line, the knight order still scattered the monks in every direction.
The jester whispered something beside the king, and immediately after, Kalista and her soldiers were pierced through by spears.
The chance to revive his beloved was right before his eyes. Viego would not allow anyone to stand in his way!
In the end, a jailer, who was also the keeper of the storehouse, led the way ahead with a smiling face. Viego held his beloved in his arms and arrived at that miraculous spring.
Viego gently placed the Blade of the Ruined King to the side. The sword was spotless, unstained by any monk's blood.
Almost the instant Viego placed Isolde into the spring water, Caleb noticed a detail that even the people involved had not noticed.
Thresh also placed an object into the spring.
Isolde really did open her eyes. She looked joyfully toward her king, the king who had lost all interest in ruling without her, the king she had been willing to shield from an assassination.
But Isolde's consciousness was swallowed up in an instant. Almost immediately, a layer of gray covered her body, and幽 green light shone from both her eyes.
The Black Mist almost surged into the sky, and every monster in the dungeons entered a strange state at the same time, neither dead nor alive.
Thresh released them one by one, and the souls of the monks after their deaths were tortured by these monsters.
Just as they had been pointlessly tortured in life, only to exchange their suffering for a little over two boxes of treasure, or simply because someone's cultivation had not gone well and their mood was poor.
Karthus also came to this world at this time through a rift in the death realm.
Because of this, Thresh received his reward, a set of hook chains and a soul lantern.
However, all living beings fell into a state of being neither dead nor alive. Only kindhearted people like Yorick and Maokai barely retained some reason.
Ironically, the relic-stone weapons once used to flaunt power and abuse others instead drifted overseas and became weapons against the Black Mist.
"Hahahaha..."
Caleb laughed, but the laugh was bitter.
The history from a thousand years ago was actually so absurd it made people want to laugh.
And besides that laughter, what Caleb felt was thick sorrow.
Perhaps as long as there was profit, people could abandon everything, whether it was their conscience or whatever faith they claimed to hold.
Before gleaming treasures and authority, what did any of that count for?
It was worth less than the shell casings Jinx left behind after firing at random.
Caleb then saw a figure. Beneath that massive suit of iron armor and hammer, he was thrown into the dark death realm.
He could only keep doing his utmost to study magic for Mordekaiser, expanding the territory of this place.
After enough time passed, the originally kind little yordle had almost vanished from sight. Aside from his cloak, hat, and iron staff, Veigar's body seemed to have disappeared altogether.
In the final instant before he lost his clarity, he hid this memory away as a contingency.
Because he knew the Shadow Isles had already opened themselves to the world, and Mordekaiser would eventually return.
Once he recovered the iron armor inside the Immortal Bastion, he would once again be able to move freely across all of Runeterra.
Seeing this, cold sweat broke out on Caleb's body.
Viego had spread the Black Mist across the entire world because his ghostly state could only be maintained under those conditions.
Then if Mordekaiser needed his iron armor, didn't that mean he might be able to move freely through the mortal world without needing the Black Mist at all?
If that was the case, Bilgewater might very well be on the verge of falling right now...
Caleb did not dare keep thinking. He had to contact Noxus and take action, immediately!
Otherwise, when Bilgewater became Mordekaiser's next Shadow Isles, both sides would suffer a heavy blow from the death realm.
At the end, Caleb looked at that tiny figure with tears in his eyes. Emotion was slowly stripped away from him, replaced by violence and madness.
"This is my final request... if you can still see this..."
"Please kill me."
The water returned to the cup, as if nothing had happened just now.
Caleb stared blankly at this incomparably miserable yordle. Over the long years, that racial trait of longevity had instead become a flaw.
It had forced this little guy to endure a weight that was almost unbearable.
Now he had finally returned to the continent, but he could never again return to the city that had given birth to him and raised him.
If he did, he would probably only bring destruction...
Caleb could not help letting out a heavy sigh and said quietly, "I promise."
In the spirit realm, yordles' emotions were almost absurdly stable. Even when used as bait to catch something bigger, they would only feel panic.
To torture a yordle into madness, Caleb could imagine what kind of endless night that must have been.
...
On a small island in Bilgewater, tentacles filled the area around Illaoi.
"Before Nagakabouros, all things will ultimately become nothing."
However, the person opposite her merely raised his mace and pointed from afar. Illaoi suddenly realized that everything around her had turned into a gray wasteland.
A dull voice came from beneath the helmet, carrying endless killing intent.
"Your god cannot save you."
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