Diablo Chronicle Episode 25: The Leftover Research Notes and the False Savior
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This is a new fan narrative based on the events of the original work. The characters' emotions, dialogues, and the atmosphere of the scenes have been reconstructed, and it includes major endings.
The Tragedy of the Yshari Sanctum
The grand gates of the Yshari Sanctum lay collapsed and blackened by soot. When the Wanderer and Lorath cautiously stepped inside the sanctuary, they were greeted only by acrid smoke and an ash-covered silence. The library, where countless scholars and mages had once shared their wisdom, had burned down catastrophically, standing as nothing but a skeletal ruin.
"No, please." Lorath's voice trembled slightly. He frantically made his way through the ash-covered bookshelves. The Wanderer also kept guard, gripping his weapon tightly, but there were no threats left here. Only the cold debris left by destruction weighed heavily on their footsteps.
Near the collapsed central altar, the Wanderer's gaze locked onto a single spot. There, a small, curled-up figure lay silently, covered in dust and ash. Holding his breath, the Wanderer approached and gently turned the figure's shoulder. Beneath the ash-covered face, Neyrelle's pale countenance was revealed, showing a mixture of serenity and deep exhaustion.
Lorath collapsed onto the ground. His rough hands cupped Neyrelle's cold cheeks, but no warmth could be felt from her body anymore. It was clear that the weight of the Soulstone, which the young girl had to bear alone, and Mephisto's endless whispers had ultimately drained all of her life force.
"I... I burdened her. It is no different from running away and dumping everything onto this young child." Thick tears fell from Lorath's eyes, wetting Neyrelle's collar. The Wanderer placed a hand on Lorath's shoulder without a word. Even words of comfort felt like nothing but futile, empty echoes in the face of this devastating reality.
Neyrelle's body was not brutally mutilated, but her rigid expression showed that she had fiercely resisted until the final moments of her life. In her tightly clenched pockets, there were clear signs of her trying to protect something. The Wanderer gently caressed her stiff hands, deeply mourning the terrible loneliness and fear she must have endured.
"She fought to the end, Lorath. She wouldn't have blamed you." At the Wanderer's low voice, Lorath bowed his head and choked back his sobs. As the last scholar of the Horadrim, and as her companion, the guilt Lorath felt gouged his chest more sharply than any weapon.
A faint light filtered through the cracks of the sanctuary's collapsed ceiling, illuminating Neyrelle's side. The Wanderer laid her body straight and found an intact piece of cloth nearby to cover her. This was the only and final tribute they could offer to this young hero.
The Wisdom Left Behind
Something rustled inside Neyrelle's tightly closed hand. As the Wanderer gently pried her fingers open, a half-burnt, leather-bound research notebook revealed itself. The cover was charred by the flames and barely recognizable, but the parchment pages inside were safe, thanks to Neyrelle shielding them with her own body until her final moment.
Lorath received the notebook with trembling hands. With every page he turned, Neyrelle's urgent and desperate handwriting caught his eye. "Mephisto's whispers are growing louder. The Soulstone has reached its limit. But I cannot give up. I must find the truth hidden within Rathma's prophecy." This was the first passage of the notebook.
The notebook was packed with complex diagrams regarding the creators of Sanctuary and ancient magic. Neyrelle had even searched through the forbidden archives of the Yshari Sanctum to find a way to permanently seal or destroy Mephisto. Lorath let out another deep sigh at the weight of the vast knowledge she must have borne all alone.
"Look here. Rathma's prophecy didn't just mean a simple end." Lorath pointed to a sentence underlined in red ink. There, along with Lilith's name, was a mention of a weapon made from the bones that had fallen from her body. Neyrelle firmly believed that only this weapon could sever the essence of a Prime Evil.
"Lilith's weapon? Didn't we already defeat her?" At the Wanderer's question, Lorath shook his head. "Her physical body was destroyed, but the relic she left behind could exist somewhere. Neyrelle was trying to find this weapon to prevent Mephisto's physical descent." Lorath's voice gradually began to gain strength.
On the final page of the notebook, ink smudged with tear stains remained. "Uncle Lorath, Wanderer. Even if I fail, please do not be too sad. I do not regret my choice. I pray that this record lights your path." That brief testament ignited an indelible flame in the hearts of the two.
Lorath stood up, tucking the notebook deep against his chest. Even the time to grieve was a luxury for them. They could not let this clue, which Neyrelle had given her life to leave behind, go to waste. He faced the Wanderer with eyes full of firm resolve. "We must finish this. So that this child's sacrifice is not in vain."
The Wanderer also adjusted his grip on his weapon and nodded. Amidst the ruins of the Yshari Sanctum, they bid a silent farewell to Neyrelle. Though her body was left in the cold ashes, the will and wisdom she left behind became a beacon guiding their steps, signaling the start of a new journey.
The Arrival of the False Savior
Over the blue seas of the Skovos Isles, pilgrimage ships with massive sails were constantly gathering. The despairing people of Sanctuary, hearing rumors of a new savior, did not hesitate to make the arduous journey to this barren island nation. Their eyes were filled only with blind hope and a desire bordering on madness.
In the middle of a vast plaza, a man stood emitting a dazzling light. He bore the appearance of the perfect physical vessel of the legendary Akarat, looking down upon the pilgrims with a benevolent smile. However, no one knew that within that shell of light lurked the cunning soul of Mephisto, the terrible Lord of Hatred.
"My children, do not fear. The long night of suffering is over, and now the Age of Light shall dawn." Mephisto's voice echoed softly and gently, mimicking the holy voice of Akarat. The moment they heard that voice, countless pilgrims, overcome with emotion, prostrated themselves on the ground and wept.
Yet, deep within Mephisto's eyes, a cold light mocking the foolishness of humanity flickered. Using Akarat's pure spiritual power, he was secretly amplifying the small grievances and hatred hidden within the people's hearts. His touch, disguised as salvation, was in truth a poison leading to ruin.
As the sick stepped forward, Mephisto placed his benevolent hand upon their foreheads. A flash of light occurred, and miracles of healing wounds and curing diseases took place. The crowd cheered enthusiastically, chanting Akarat's name. Blinded by the miracle before them, they failed to notice that the eyes of the healed had turned strangely dull.
"Break all the shackles that oppress you. True freedom belongs only to those who seize power for themselves." Mephisto's speech gradually drifted in a peculiar direction. While seemingly speaking of peace and harmony, beneath it lay a subtle incitement to rebel against the existing order and authority, coiled like a venomous serpent.
The pilgrims cheered enthusiastically at his every word, raising their fists. In an instant, the plaza turned into a massive crucible where blind faith and suppressed anger mingled. Absorbing this chaotic energy, Mephisto was gradually reclaiming his original power within Akarat's vessel.
He looked toward the grand temple of Skovos in the distance, the corners of his mouth curling slightly. The queen of this island and her Amazon warriors were still outside his control, but that was only a matter of time. The Lord of Hatred, wearing the mask of a false savior, was step-by-step completing the perfect stage to bring all of Sanctuary to its knees.
The Vigilance of Skovos
Deep within the jungles of the Skovos Isles, the city of the Amazons was filled with the heat of strict discipline and relentless training. Female warriors clad in golden armor constantly honed their martial arts, brandishing sharp spears. There was not a shred of hesitation in the movements of those who had protected their territory from external threats.
In the throne room lined with massive marble pillars, Queen Adreona received reports with a grim expression. Her sharp eyes gleamed with vigilance regarding the outsiders flocking to the shores recently and the mysterious savior they followed. The long history of the Amazons knew all too well the catastrophe that blind faith could bring.
"Though they say that shining one performs miracles, in my eyes, it appears to be nothing but clever illusion. Double the guard, and completely restrict outsiders from entering the city center." At Adreona's firm command, the guards struck their spears against the floor in obedience. She had absolutely no intention of surrendering Skovos to vain madness.
Just then, the doors of the throne room opened, and Lorath and the Wanderer entered under the heavy guard of the soldiers. Though the appearance of the two who had traveled a long way was shabby, their eyes were desperate and intense. Resting her chin on her hand, Adreona looked down coldly at these uninvited guests, waiting for them to speak.
"Great Queen, forgive our intrusion. But we have come to warn you of a terrible calamity descending upon Skovos." Lorath took a step forward and spoke urgently. "The one staying on the shore is not Akarat. He is Mephisto, the Prime Evil who has stolen Akarat's vessel!"
Adreona's brow furrowed. "A Prime Evil? Old scholar of the Horadrim, your words are far too absurd. If he is truly a demon, why does he heal the sick and preach peace?" There was clear disbelief in the Queen's voice. To her, Lorath's warning sounded like nothing but the nonsense of heretics.
The Wanderer stepped forward to assist. "His healing is a deception. He is planting seeds of hatred in people's hearts and rallying forces. Please, believe our words and cast him out." Despite the Wanderer's heartfelt appeal, Adreona's expression remained as hard as stone, showing no signs of softening.
"The safety of Skovos is for me to decide. I cannot allow the blood of my warriors to be spilled in a conflict of outsiders. Drag these people out at once." As Adreona gestured with her hand, the guards approached, pointing the tips of their spears. Lorath bit his lip in despair, and the Wanderer had no choice but to loosen his grip on his weapon and watch the situation unfold.
Deception and Manipulation
Just as Lorath was about to speak once more to persuade the Queen, a sharp ringing struck his mind. His vision turned crimson, and Mephisto's chilling laughter echoed in his ears. "Foolish old man, did you think you could stop me?" An unseen malevolent energy completely seized Lorath's nerves.
Lorath's eyes lost focus and turned a dull gray. Moving independently of his will, his hand reached down and drew the dagger at his waist like lightning. Before the Wanderer could stop him, Lorath let out a beastly roar, leaped toward the dais, and swung his blade at Queen Adreona.
"Lorath! No!" the Wanderer cried out urgently, reaching out, but it was already too late. Adreona instinctively twisted her body, but Lorath's dagger sliced deeply across her shoulder. Crimson blood splattered over her golden armor, and the throne room instantly turned into a crucible of shock and chaos.
The guards fell upon Lorath with furious shouts. A heavy spear shaft struck Lorath's back, sending him tumbling to the floor with a scream. The Wanderer tried to draw his weapon, but countless spear tips pointed at his neck, pinning him in place. Lorath was still writhing, panting like a beast.
At that moment, the tightly closed doors of the throne room swung wide open, and a dazzling light poured in. Mephisto, in the guise of Akarat, walked in slowly with a benevolent smile. At his appearance, even the Amazon guards were overwhelmed by the holy aura radiating from him and unconsciously parted to make way.
Mephisto approached Adreona, who sat bleeding. "Oh, noble Queen. You have been wounded by the schemes of one stained by darkness." He whispered tenderly, emitting a warm light from his hand to envelop the Queen's wound. The cut healed in an instant, and the pain vanished as if it had never been.
Adreona tried to maintain her vigilance, but her gaze began to waver at the miracle performed before her eyes and the tranquility enveloping her body. "Have you... truly saved me?" At her trembling question, Mephisto nodded gently. It was the moment the brilliantly calculated play of false salvation reached its grand finale.
Mephisto wore a sorrowful expression toward Lorath, who was pinned to the floor. "Poor soul, who has lost his mind to the devil's temptation. I forgive your sin." At that abominable declaration, the demonic grasp binding Lorath's mind was instantly released. Regaining his senses, Lorath realized what he had done and let out a scream of horror.
Fallen Trust
"No! It wasn't me! That fiend controlled my mind!" Lorath screamed as if spitting blood, pinned to the floor in bonds. However, his cries only scattered emptily within the already cold throne room. In the eyes of the Amazon warriors, there was only a despicable old man who had tried to assassinate their Queen.
Adreona clutched her healed shoulder and looked down coldly at Lorath. "Silence, assassin. Your hideous excuses only defile my ears. Had it not been for the Messenger of Light, I would have lost my life to your blade." The Queen's voice was laced with deep anger and betrayal.
Standing beside Adreona, Mephisto subtly hid his victorious smile as he looked at the Wanderer and Lorath. His gaze mocked them, saying, 'You can never defeat me.' Meeting that gaze, Lorath was seized by a despair that made his blood run cold. It was the moment the honor of the Horadrim, which he had spent his entire life protecting, was dragged through the gutter.
"Behead them!" As Adreona's frosty command fell, the guards raised their spears. At that moment, the Wanderer stood up with fierce momentum, pushing the guards aside and blocking the way in front of Lorath. "This man was merely controlled! If you kill us, you will be falling right into the trap of your true enemy!"
The guards flinched and stepped back at the murderous intent and determination radiating from the Wanderer's eyes. Adreona seemed to ponder for a moment, then raised her hand to stop the soldiers. "Very well. I do not wish to defile my sacred palace with blood. Leave this island at once. If you ever appear before my eyes again, I will cut you down without mercy."
Banished to the outskirts of Skovos after being disarmed, Lorath collapsed onto the muddy ground and buried his face in his hands. "It's over... Mephisto has won even the Queen's trust. I stopped nothing, and instead, I ended up helping his plan." His voice was terribly cracked with deep self-reproach and defeat.
The Wanderer knelt beside Lorath and firmly gripped his trembling shoulders. "It is too early to give up, Lorath. I know it wasn't your fault. The fiend wants to divide us, but I will not abandon you." At the Wanderer's resolute comfort, Lorath slowly raised his head.
"Remember the notebook Neyrelle left behind. We still have hope in Lilith's weapon. We must find our next move in a place where Mephisto's illusions cannot reach." At the Wanderer's words, a tiny spark ignited once more in Lorath's clouded eyes. They barely managed to pull themselves up from the swamp of despair and turned toward a new path.
The Shadow Within
Deep within an uninhabited cave in Skovos, the Wanderer sat cross-legged with Neyrelle's research notebook spread out before him. The ancient meditation method written in the notebook was a dangerous ritual that shut out sight and plunged one into the deep abyss within. Closing his eyes and tightly binding them with a black cloth, the Wanderer focused all his senses on the faint pulse flowing through his blood.
The surrounding noises gradually faded, and even the cold air of the cave could no longer be felt. The Wanderer's consciousness plummeted into an endless, dark abyss. In that place where the senses of time and space vanished, there was only a bizarre and silent realm of the mind, thickly blanketed in crimson mist.
As the Wanderer slowly opened his eyes, the cloth that had covered his vision was nowhere to be seen, and sticky blood sloshed beneath his feet. This was not the Wanderer's physical body, but the space of connection engraved deep within his soul ever since he had consumed Lilith's blood in the past. Beyond the crimson mist, a massive and imposing shadow slowly began to reveal itself.
"In the end, you have returned to me, my child." A captivating yet chilling voice that penetrated to the bone echoed through the space. As the mist cleared, the spirit of Lilith, the horned demon of noble stature, descended before the Wanderer's eyes. Though her physical body had been destroyed, the essence remaining in the Wanderer's blood was holding her soul captive in this inner space.
The Wanderer reflexively reached for his weapon, but in this mental space, no physical weapons existed. "I did not come to resurrect you. I merely used this cursed blood connection to find a way to stop Mephisto." The Wanderer shouted resolutely, suppressing his fear.
Lilith approached with elegant steps and reached out to gently stroke the Wanderer's chin. When the Wanderer turned his head to avoid her, she withdrew her hand with a faint smile. "My father will devour Sanctuary. Surely you have already realized that the strength of you mortals alone can never stop that cunning old man?"
"That is why I need your weapon. The dagger made from your bones, as written in Neyrelle's notebook." At the Wanderer's words, Lilith's eyes sparkled with interest. She cast her gaze into the air for a moment as if tracing past memories, then spoke in a calm voice.
"That dagger was a gift I intended to give to my first child, Rathma. But that foolish child rejected my offer and tried to escape his fate." Lilith's voice carried a mixture of faint sorrow and anger. She stared directly at the Wanderer again, foretelling that this inner encounter would become a new turning point to change the fate of Sanctuary.
An Uneasy Alliance
"The dagger forged from my bones is no simple weapon. It is the only key that can sever a demon's essence and break the bonds of the soul," Lilith explained, walking through the crimson mist. With her every step, the blood on the floor rippled, drawing bizarre patterns. The Wanderer watched her every movement without missing a single moment.
"If you pierce Mephisto with that dagger, you will not merely return him to Hell, but banish him into the eternal void. His vessel and soul will be separated, rendering him unable to exist in any dimension." Lilith's proposal made the Wanderer's heart race. Being able to prevent endless resurrection in Hell was a hope bordering on a miracle.
The Wanderer glared at Lilith with suspicious eyes. "Why are you helping us? You, too, are a demon who sought to rule Sanctuary. If this cooperation is a scheme to take my body and resurrect yourself, drop it immediately." At the Wanderer's sharp accusation, Lilith laughed softly.
"My physical body is already scattered, and I cannot resurrect with only this tiny essence. I simply cannot stand by and watch my father destroy the Sanctuary I created." Lilith's gaze turned cold in an instant. "You may not trust me, but do you have any other choice right now?"
The Wanderer remained silent. Lorath was in despair, and the Queen of Skovos had fallen for Mephisto's lies. The Wanderer could not face the Prime Evil's forces alone. Cooperating with Lilith was like drinking from a poisoned chalice, but if Mephisto could be banished to the void forever, it was a risk worth taking.
"Very well. I agree to search for your dagger. But bear this in mind: if you attempt to manipulate me even in the slightest, I will destroy this blood connection, even if it means ending my own life." At the Wanderer's resolute declaration, Lilith nodded in satisfaction. It was the moment an uneasy alliance was forged, holding hands for a common purpose despite their mutual hatred.
"The dagger is divided into several pieces and hidden throughout Sanctuary. I shall guide you to their locations. But you must hurry. We must finish this before my father's power is fully restored." Lilith's form gradually began to disperse into the crimson mist. As the inner space collapsed, the sensation of reality pulled the Wanderer back forcefully.
The Wanderer gasped for breath and threw off the cloth that had covered his eyes. The cold air of the cave pierced his lungs, signaling his return to reality. Lorath, who had been watching with a worried gaze by his side, approached. Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, the Wanderer slowly opened his mouth to convey the precarious ember of hope he had found in the darkness to Lorath.
Sources Consulted
Blizzard · Neyrelle's Memorial Records
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