Chapter 1249
Raymond fumbled in a panic, trying to use his Undying Aura to suppress the poison. But he quickly realized that the Undying Aura would suppress his junior brothers along with the toxins—the poison had already fused with their bodies, taken root deep inside them, and there was no way to drive it out without harming them.
Raymond looked helplessly at Leon. Leon frowned, deep in thought.
"The poison is complicated. They've been poisoned too deeply. And it would take too long to prepare an antidote. There's one ingredient I don't have—it's only found in the Undead Plane..."
As soon as Leon finished speaking, Raymond's face changed, and the young man who was most heavily poisoned turned pale and began shouting in panic.
"Damn it, what did you say? Are you saying we're doomed? Raymond, hurry up and make this bastard give us the antidote..."
Before the young man could finish, Raymond's face darkened and his eyes grew cold.
"Enough! Constantine! Have you forgotten your basic manners? This is Archmage Leon Merlin from the Andalusia Kingdom—a man far stronger than me. And Archmage Leon is also a powerful Worldshaper!
It was Archmage Leon who just broke the Alchemical Array and saved you all. Shouldn't you thank him first? If not for Archmage Leon, you'd all be dead in there!
Raymond's hand trembled. He nearly slapped Constantine across the face.
This idiot. Back at the monastery, he was spoiled rotten—he’s forgotten even the most basic manners. Can’t he see it was Archmage Leon who saved them just now?
Damn it, if they'd ever witnessed Archmage Leon dismantle a Heaven-tier Alchemical Golem in seconds, they wouldn't dare act this way now.
If I hadn't shamelessly begged Archmage Leon, he'd never have come here. If we provoke him, who knows what he'll do? Constantine, you idiot—are you trying to get yourself killed?
They've forgotten how the Abbey Master warned us again and again—not to offend anyone out here. If you get yourself killed, the monastery won't help you at all.
Raymond's expression was so intense it startled several of the young Sword Saints. It was probably the first time they'd ever seen him so nervous.
In that instant, Constantine stiffened, his terror sinking into a cold, silent dread. He didn't dare utter another word.
Leon frowned. If it weren't for the need to speed things up, he wouldn't bother with the Hidden Mountain Monastery crowd; breaking a Heaven-tier Alchemical Array alone in five days would be impossible.
Raymond's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"Archmage Leon, please don't take it personally. My junior brothers have never left the Hidden Mountain Monastery before—they don't know how to deal with outsiders, and they've never faced danger like this. They're just scared out of their minds..."
“You idiots. If I’d known you were this useless, I should’ve asked Archmage Leon to save you from the start. All those years of monastery training—utterly wasted!”
The young Sword Saints paled in terror at his words, scrambling to their feet and bowing respectfully to Leon.
“Archmage Leon, thank you for saving us.”
“Archmage Leon, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it…”
One of the young Sword Saints apologized hurriedly, then looked at Raymond with pleading eyes.
What could Raymond do? He could only blush and shamelessly continue pleading with Leon.
“Archmage Leon, is there any way to cure their poisoning? Constantine’s case is the worst—he won’t last half a day. Do you have any other methods? Or even something to buy them a little more time?”
Leon hesitated. The poison these guys had been hit with was far too complex…
“It’s not that I don’t want to make an antidote for them—their poisoning is just too complicated, and far too deep. They’ve been suppressing it with Undying Aura, using their overwhelming vitality to fight it off.
But these toxins—thirty-seven kinds mixed together—some of them absorb vitality to strengthen their penetration. Fused like this, and fueled by so much life force, they’ve already taken root deep inside their bodies.
I know how to make the antidote, and I could do it—except I’m missing one crucial ingredient: the Undying Boneflower, which only grows in places thick with undead aura, like the Death Plane or the Bone Plane.
Without that herb, I’d have to start from scratch. It’d take at least three days to research a substitute.
But they won’t last three days…"
Leon’s words made the young Sword Saints, already pale, turn even greener. Constantine stared at Leon, speechless, his face cycling through a dozen emotions.
Damn it, Raymond said this guy was as strong as him—what a joke. He’s just a Ninth-Rank Title Archmage, right? Raymond must be groveling just to save us.
Looking at him now, he definitely has a way to save us, but he’s holding back out of spite—he wants to get back at me. Damn it, do I really have to apologize to this bastard?
He’s just a Ninth-Rank Title Archmage! Our Sword Saints from the Hidden Mountain Monastery could wipe the floor with someone like that. I could kill him with one hand, lop his head off in a minute.
And yet he dares threaten me like this. No way I’m backing down... but I can’t hold out much longer...
Constantine’s skin had turned pitch green; his Undying Aura and vitality were both fading fast. At this rate, in half an hour, his body would be destroyed—and even his soul might be polluted and torn apart...
Raymond’s face turned pale. He’d rescued his junior brothers, only to watch them die before his eyes. That was even worse than failing to save them at all.
“Archmage... Archmage Leon, is there really... truly no other way?”
Leon was troubled. The Alchemical Golems he’d encountered earlier hadn’t even used poison on their weapons. Who could have guessed this place harbored thirty-seven kinds of potent toxins, some effective even against Sky Rank powerhouses?
Many of these toxins, when blended in the right proportions, could kill even Sky Rank experts!
All thirty-seven mixed together made for a complicated poison, but not an especially violent one. If that weren’t the case, even the Hidden Mountain Monastery’s heirs would have been dead on the spot.
Unfortunately, the key ingredient for the antidote was missing—and nothing else could substitute. Anything else would require fresh research, and even then, it could only temporarily ease the symptoms, not cure them.
After a moment’s thought, Leon suddenly remembered something he’d sorted out among his spoils—something that might be useful...
He’d found the larvae of a poisonous insect in the Abyss. Supposedly, these bugs were once parasites on ancient Poison Dragons, feeding on toxins and thriving on the most virulent poisons. Even as larvae, they survived on Poison Dragons—almost completely immune to toxins.
Leon had been intrigued and kept them after a demon brought them up from below. Unfortunately, he’d never cultivated them—ordinary poisons weren’t enough for these larvae, and he’d forgotten all about them.
It’s said that when these poisonous insects reach their ultimate stage, a single bite can rival the Poison Dragon itself—a Sky Rank expert bitten would die instantly.
Thinking of those Poison Dragon parasites, Leon’s eyes lit up. With a flick of his wrist, a rune-sealed crystal vial appeared in his palm, its mouth covered in runes, filled with writhing larvae in translucent slime—a sickly yellow, utterly repulsive.
Leon glanced at Raymond, looking somewhat troubled.
“Lord Raymond, after thinking it over, this is the only solution I can offer. These are Abyssal Poisonbug larvae I acquired by chance. They feed exclusively on toxins and, as larvae, have no other abilities.
If you want to save your junior brothers, we’ll have to rely on these larvae and see if they work…"
Raymond didn’t care—so long as they lived. No matter how disgusting, those bugs weren’t worse than losing your life.
Raymond assumed his senior’s authority, glaring sternly at his five junior brothers—faces green and pale—daring any of them to object.
Leon broke the seal on the crystal vial. A wave of stench rolled out—rot, sulfur, pure foulness, burrowing straight into everyone’s nostrils.
Even Leon couldn’t help frowning. Back when he was a demon, this stuff hadn’t seemed so bad—the Abyss was full of things far fouler. But now, the smell made him queasy.
“Archmage Leon, what do we do with it?”
A young Sword Saint, face mottled green and white, stared in horror as Leon approached with the vial. Faced with death, no matter how revolting the smell or sight, they had to endure it.
Sensing the intense toxins, the larvae in the vial began writhing, eager to escape.
Leon conjured a Mage Hand, grabbing three larvae—each the size of a pinky—and placed them on the young Sword Saint. Instantly, the youth froze, as if petrified, staring blankly at the damp bugs crawling over his body.
Starved of toxins, the larvae devoured greedily once in contact. Soon, half the skin on the young Sword Saint’s left arm regained its color—the green fading. The larvae, though, couldn’t keep feeding.
Leon kept placing larvae on different body parts, letting them devour the toxins. In two minutes, the young Sword Saint’s face was pale but no longer green, and the poisonous aura was gone.
Seeing it worked, Leon used the larvae to clear the toxins from the remaining four. Five minutes later, three were fully cured, but Constantine’s skin still held a faint green tinge.
Most of the poison was gone, but the larvae couldn’t absorb any more. In less than half a minute, Constantine’s skin began to darken again.
“Archmage Leon, what’s happening…?”
Constantine panicked. The others were cured, but his poison remained—and even grew after the larvae fed.
Leon frowned.
“Your poisoning is too severe—the toxins have invaded your organs, blood, maybe even your bone marrow. The larvae can only absorb surface toxins; they’re too weak to reach deeper.”
Constantine was petrified. He couldn’t think—his face green and white, Undying Aura fading, vitality draining away.
Raymond was horrified, but helpless. Everyone knew Constantine’s poison was about to erupt.
Constantine’s body stiffened, numbness spreading. Suddenly, he saw a Mage Hand grip his jaw, forcing his mouth open, while another Mage Hand brought over the crystal vial.
Instantly, Constantine’s pupils shrank to pinpoints. The thick slime and writhing yellow larvae in the vial were poured into his mouth.
His body rigid, Constantine was filled with despair. All he could do was watch the slime and bugs pour into his mouth, the cold, slippery sensation filling him, the larvae wriggling madly.
A mass of larvae crawled down his throat, the cold, nauseating slime sliding into his stomach.
Suddenly, Constantine remembered the rotting corpses he’d seen before—covered in writhing bugs just like these…
Seeing Leon’s actions, the other young Sword Saints instantly went pale. Four Ninth-Rank Title Archmages couldn’t help but take two steps back.
A swarm of venomous insects crawled down his throat into his stomach, the icy, nauseating slime sliding after them.
As long as they survived, enduring a little suffering was nothing for a strong man…
As long as he survived, enduring a little suffering was nothing for a strong man...
Leon poured the rest of the venomous larvae into Constantine's mouth. In an instant, the toxins inside him erupted—like floodwaters breaching a dam—devoured by the ravenous insects.
Before their eyes, Constantine's green skin rapidly faded, returning to a pale, almost normal color. The toxins in his body slowly calmed, and a few seconds later, his stiff body bent over as he retched violently.
If you can keep your life, a little suffering is nothing for someone who walks the path of power...
The venomous insects poured into Constantine's mouth, and in the blink of an eye, the toxins inside him burst forth, as if finding an outlet in the flood—madly devoured by the larvae.