Chapter 411: The Minor Lord of Hellfire Demons
However, during the golden age when magical civilization reached its zenith, the secrets of the Crimson Forest gradually surfaced. In truth, it was quite simple: this was a forest governed by reversal laws. Mages also called the Crimson Forest the Forest of Reversal.
In other words, everything within the Crimson Forest developed in the opposite direction...
Leon carefully explored the Crimson Forest. After some time, he discovered many traces of battle along the way—sword marks and lingering magical fluctuations. Judging from these signs, they seemed ancient, which genuinely surprised Leon. In this era, the Crimson Forest was always taboo; no one who entered ever came out alive. It couldn’t possibly be that those who got lost inside ended up slaughtering each other, could it?
The sword marks and magical residue felt far beyond the level of a Sword Saint or a Title Archmage—at the very least, they were Sky Rank...
Since the formation of the Crimson Forest a thousand years ago, it seemed no Sky Rank masters had ever set foot here. Yet the battle traces included both sword marks and magical fluctuations, clearly left by a Sky Rank Sword Saint and a Sky Rank mage working together. In this age, where Sky Rank powerhouses are so rare, how could such a duo have ever come here...?
But then, what about those battle traces?
Strangely, all the battle marks were on the ground, while the trees themselves were untouched. Leon even went out of his way to cast a dozen Wizard’s Eyes to scan the area, but the result was the same—no marks on the trees at all...
Doesn’t this mean the battle traces existed before the Crimson Forest was formed...?
Reaching this startling conclusion, Leon’s expression remained calm, but inwardly his mind was a storm. The answer was almost obvious—the battle traces were left by His Majesty Longlegs and the King of Caucasus. Years ago, the two fought on this very land, and a single drop of their blood gave birth to the Crimson Forest decades later.
A thousand years had passed, yet those battle traces still hadn’t faded away. That alone unsettled Leon—battle marks lasting a millennium were far beyond what any Sky Rank could accomplish.
This discovery instantly made Leon question everything. Had His Majesty Longlegs and the King of Caucasus already surpassed Sky Rank? According to records from thirty thousand years later, both were said to be ninth-tier Sky Rank, and Leon had always believed it. But these traces overturned everything he thought he knew—these two must have reached a realm beyond Sky Rank...
In this era, magical civilization was still far from mature. Sword Saints and Title Archmages were unattainable legends for most, let alone Sky Rank—let alone anything beyond.
Leon collected a faint magical fluctuation left behind by the King of Caucasus. He intended to analyze it with his Mana Harness, but not now. He had a hunch—if he tried to analyze this trace now, it might just destroy his Mana Harness...
This was no overreaction. The owner of this magical trace was an existence beyond Sky Rank; Leon guessed he’d have to wait until he reached Title Archmage before even attempting to analyze it.
Following the trail of battle marks, Leon walked for hours until a lake appeared before him. He stopped, lost in thought, gazing at its tranquil surface.
The lake was peculiar—not very large, but its water was pale red, and almost perfectly still...
He stared for over ten minutes, but found nothing out of the ordinary. Still, he had no intention of leaving, because the battle traces ended abruptly at the lake’s edge.
Leon released a Wizard’s Eye, sending it into the lake. But the moment it touched the pale red water, the Wizard’s Eye vanished without a sound...
There was magical fluctuation...
Leon’s heart leapt—he waved and released another Wizard’s Eye, trying several times, but each attempt ended the same: the Wizard’s Eye dissipated. What surprised Leon was that, standing on the shore, he couldn’t sense any magical fluctuation at all. Yet the moment the Wizard’s Eye touched the lake, it was instantly destroyed by a surge of powerful magic.
Cautious as ever, Leon wasn’t about to risk himself. Without hesitation, he summoned three water elemental golems and directed them to dive into the lake. One golem’s vision relayed the scene to Leon: at the bottom of the lake stood a stone stele. The distance was too great to make out the details, but it was unmistakably a stele.
As the water elemental golem approached the stele, Leon saw a line carved by sword: 'Ronan and I have been lost for three years. There is no one left alive...'
Leon was left speechless, especially by the final words: 'There is no one left alive...' When he saw those characters, he could sense a complex emotion woven between them—confusion, loss, but above all, despair.
Ronan—most people in this era wouldn’t know that name, but Leon remembered clearly. The King of Caucasus was called Ronan.
So the one who carved those words must have been the Long-Legged Emperor.
During his exploration of Vaughn’s Laboratory, Leon had encountered a Sky Rank golem that uttered a few unforgettable words.
Is anyone still alive? There’s no path ahead... These were left by Igor the Azure Sage, but the Sky Rank golem was so badly damaged that Leon only heard those two lines.
And now, in the Crimson Forest, he’d stumbled upon another message left by the Long-Legged Emperor. What were these beings beyond Sky Rank truly trying to say?
Yet the words left by the Long-Legged Emperor seemed contradictory. In the era when the King of Caucasus vanished, wasn’t everyone in the Northend World still alive...?
Leon didn’t linger at the lakeside for long—he decided to return to camp. The Crimson Forest, governed by reversal laws, was never easy to escape. Even knowing the way out, Leon spent over three hours before finally emerging at dawn, only to find the three mercenary companies had already departed.
Fortunately, the three mercenary companies were large and moved slowly as they advanced deeper. Following their tracks, Leon caught up with them in no time.
He found himself in a forest of scorched earth, where flames flickered everywhere. Even at the edge, the temperature soared above forty degrees, and nearby volcanoes spewed lava. Leon frowned, a sense of foreboding growing within him—this bizarre forest looked exactly like the Corrupted Forest from his memories.
A commotion arose ahead—the advance scouting party seemed to have encountered something...
Leon’s heart skipped a beat.
Without hesitation, Leon released five or six Wizard’s Eyes. What he saw stunned him: a group of Hellfire Demons, wreathed in flame, locked in fierce battle with an elite squad from one of the mercenary companies.
By the time Leon tried to warn them, it was already too late...
Several Hellfire Demons were blasted apart by endless spells, their flames dimming. When the last spell struck, their flames died out, leaving behind piles of charred remains... But seconds later, those charred heaps erupted into blazing fire, and more Hellfire Demons emerged from the flames...
Hellfire Demons, like Demon Imps and Nightshade Elves, were the lowest tier of hellspawn—yet they were genuine Level 20 threats. Hellfire Demons were far more troublesome than Demon Imps or Nightshade Elves, because unless you killed one in a single blow, each attack it survived would spawn another Hellfire Demon upon its death...
The thought alone was terrifying.