The old man did not need to introduce the speaker. Jiang Hao already knew who it was.
Ioulaum!
The holder of the Nether Scroll, inventor of the Arcane Core and the Floating City, the Netherese Empire's greatest Mage—the Legendary Mage who had single-handedly ushered in Netheril's glorious age of magic!
When Ioulaum's voice sounded in the old man's mind, he froze. Then his body began to tremble. Teacher. That's Teacher's voice.
For hundreds of thousands of years, he had remained in the Floating City. What had kept him going was the empire and his teacher—and perhaps his teacher more than the empire.
So when Jiang Hao brought him news of his teacher, he had left his Demiplane without hesitation and set out to find him.
And now, at last, he heard his teacher's voice.
Then came a familiar greeting.
"Harry Taylor, my student. It's been a long time. How have you been?"
The old man Ioulaum had called Harry Taylor paused. He drew a deep breath, struggling to keep his expression from crumbling. "Not well. After the empire collapsed, I fell into the Shadow Plane with the Floating City."
"I was mortally wounded. To survive, I transformed myself into a being that was half Tower Spirit, half Lich. I was bound to the Floating City. Wherever it went, I had to go."
"For hundreds of thousands of years, I tried to repair the Floating City so I could leave the Shadow Plane and find you, Melnick Larlok, and Silinxiue. I wanted us to rebuild the Netherese Empire together. But when..."
His lips moved as he tried to say the name, but in the end, only bitterness crossed his face. "When that lady descended, every effort I'd made became futile."
The power of a God had made him and the Floating