This time, Hill and Purvi chose to approach Mazték by sea again. They had to make a long detour around the waters south of Faerûn to reach their destination west of Toril, but Toril's skies had yet to stabilize. Spatial rifts still appeared frequently, and Hill had no desire to be sent somewhere strange.
Hill encountered no trouble at sea and reached the land shrouded in thick fog. It seemed something had happened to Mazték after all.
It made sense that this continent would be the one in trouble. Its people alone had lost their Supreme God... Helm had killed him.
Life in Mazték had largely been left to run wild. Most people lived in worse conditions than the barbarians of Icewind Dale, while the few wealthy and powerful had almost all made their fortunes selling slaves.
Mazték's mines had initially been controlled by colonists from Faerûn. The local people had no god to protect them, and witchcraft and brute force were no match for colonists backed by Helm.
At first, the colonists captured the slaves they needed for mining themselves. Later, they cultivated a group of ambitious Mazték locals. Even after Faerûn's influence gradually faded from the continent for various reasons, those locals expanded the slave trade.
They no longer regarded people of other races as human. That was why Mazték's Orcs were among the most susceptible to the Abyss's temptations. Their living conditions were too harsh, and humans often captured them as slaves.
Faced with such a cruel reality, choosing darkness was hardly surprising.
But it also made the continent unstable. Hill sighed and told Purvi to advance slowly. Gray Mist blotted out the sky, while tiny Spatial Blades flickered constantly and struck the Otherworld Whale's body.
Fortunately, Hill had reinforced Purvi's body with Adamantine. Flesh and blood