Chapter 394: Doomscar Mark
By now, Leon already understood—the place obliterated by that pillar of light just moments ago was undoubtedly the valley where he’d recently lingered. And that beam, descending straight from the heavens, was without question the power of a Primordial Deity...
For countless millennia, the power of the Primordial Deity had shrouded that valley. But because the Soul Fragment remained buried deep underground, that terrible force never erupted—until now. Leon had taken the Soul Fragment and fused it with another, and naturally, that triggered the valley’s dormant terror. In an instant, the unleashed force annihilated everything.
Just imagine...
A valley stretching thousands of meters wiped out in a heartbeat. If he’d still been there, he’d have been reduced to nothing but ash.
Terrifying...
Leon shuddered and forced himself to turn away, suppressing the shock in his heart as he began to re-examine his surroundings.
He found himself on a black plain—boundless, endless, blanketed in heavy mist. Even with Eagle’s Sight bolstering his vision, he could barely make out fifty meters ahead.
“So damn unlucky...” Leon muttered, frowning. The Lucky Box was just that obnoxious; you never knew where its next teleport would dump you.
Like this endless black plain, for instance—pure nightmare fuel. No landmarks, nothing but fog, no way to tell direction. Ten people walk in, and ten people get lost.
Wait a minute...
A black plain...
Leon’s heart skipped a beat at the thought.
An endless black plain, shrouded in perpetual mist...
Could this be the Doomscar?
"No way..." The moment the idea struck, Leon was utterly stunned.
Wasn’t this exactly how the legendary Doomscar was described?
Seriously... could I be any more unlucky?
Wasn’t bringing Leon Merlin along supposed to help avoid the Doomscar?
Yet after all that, I walked right into it myself...
Now I’m really in trouble...
Leon’s face grew grim. The Doomscar, known as the scar of the Turin Mountains, was truly a cursed land—a boundless black wasteland, shrouded year-round in toxic mist. Ordinary people who so much as brushed against it would rot alive; even most mages and swordsmen, protected by mana or battle aura, didn’t dare linger long, lest the mist corrode even their defenses.
To withstand this poisonous fog, you needed to be at least a Magus or Grand Swordsman. Only those at that level could use mana or battle aura to fend off the mist’s invasion...
Six hundred years ago, at the height of its power, the Black Tower once tried to conquer this so-called cursed canyon.
Back then, the Battlemages of the Caucasus still served under the Black Tower. It was truly the Tower’s golden age—the most powerful force in all of Andalusia. The Black Tower alone boasted two Sky Rank champions, over a dozen Title Archmages, and hundreds of Magi. That kind of strength could sweep through all of Auckland today.
But even the mighty Black Tower suffered unimaginable losses after stepping into the Doomscar...
At first, their advance was smooth. The Black Tower’s elite swept through the Doomscar from south to east, crushing everything in their path. Countless magical beasts fell to their spells, and daily battle reports flooded back to Auckland, stirring the city into a frenzy...
However...
Just as the Black Tower thought they’d finally conquer the unconquered Doomscar, disaster struck. Beasts began appearing in droves, stronger and fiercer, like endless waves. At first, the Black Tower kept up their crushing advance, but soon they realized this time was different. No matter how many they killed, more beasts appeared, fiercer and more relentless, as if the land itself refused to be cleansed.
It became the bloodiest battle in the Black Tower’s history...