Chapter 1084: The Bronze Orcs
At this moment, all those hours spent poring over the Spellbook of Ages were finally paying off.
I had reviewed countless spells, especially those of the first tier. By now, whenever I opened the Spellbook of Ages, nearly every spell that appeared was one I’d already seen before.
Not only were these spells etched firmly in my mind, but I understood the structure of each spell, knew which runes appeared in which incantations—at this point, I had them all at my fingertips.
Now, when I saw those endless runes, I barely needed to think. I could weave them into spells almost instinctively.
The Arcane Wheel’s phantom devoured the endless runes and, as it released them again, they emerged as chains of radiant spells.
One side of the Arcane Wheel’s phantom continually devoured runes, while the other side sprayed out fully assembled spells.
Three hours later, every rune in this void had vanished, replaced by chains of radiant spells drifting through emptiness.
Then, a dramatic change occurred: flames began to bloom in the void, each one a different color, as if conjured from nothing.
Once the flames appeared, the chains of radiant spells plunged into them. Soon, not a single trace of a spell remained—only a world of pure fire.
Leon stepped onto a sea of fire, a steady force beneath his feet supporting him as if he were standing on solid ground.
The endless mist had become endless flames now, but at its core, it was still the power of the Spellbook of Ages—only its form had changed.
After restoring the area of first-tier spells in the Spellbook of Ages, Leon continued upward, carefully repairing every region from second-tier to eighth-tier spells.
All those spells that had scattered into runes were now reassembled.
Once the restoration was complete, the world within the Spellbook of Ages transformed into a pure realm of fire, endless flames filling every corner.
At this moment, Theo fully merged with the Spellbook of Ages, becoming its Relic Spirit—a state where Theo could wield the artifact’s power to its absolute limit.
A shroud of gray flame enveloped Leon’s body, and in an instant, he left the world inside the Spellbook of Ages.
When the flames faded, he found himself back where he’d started. Floating before him was a book wreathed in gray fire, nearly half a meter tall, its pages aged like ancient metal, gleaming with a weathered bronze hue.
Two shifting runes glimmered on its surface. At a glance, Leon instinctively understood their meaning: Spellbook of Ages!
Theo was still inside the Spellbook of Ages, acclimating to its power. Leon didn’t summon him out just yet.
As Leon put away the Spellbook of Ages, a smile—and a hint of relief—crossed his face.
The Spellbook of Ages had ascended to a Mythic Artifact, something no one in the Northend World had ever achieved, not even in the face of apocalypse. Yet he had done it.
And now, with a Relic Spirit he could fully control, Leon could wield the Spellbook of Ages perfectly. From this day forward, it was his most powerful artifact—stronger than even the Death Tome!
The Death Tome may have been born a Mythic Artifact, but its Relic Spirit has yet to appear, making it impossible to unleash its true power.
But the Spellbook of Ages was different. With Theo in control, its power could finally be realized—even just a portion of it instantly made it Leon’s strongest artifact yet.
He was lucky to be only an Eighth-Rank Title Archmage right now; when viewing the Spellbook of Ages, he could only access up to eighth-tier spells. Accordingly, the spell spaces inside the artifact maxed out at eighth-tier as well.
If ninth-tier spells appeared, and those spell-forged mannequins showed up, they’d tear him to pieces with Mythic magic in less than ten seconds.
When Leon reappeared, Hubert, Reina, Anderson, and the mage corps rushed over, their faces full of concern.
"Lord Merlin, what was up with that giant serpent just now? I thought it ate you! I was about to smash it, but then it vanished too..."
Hubert hefted Slaughter and shouted, brimming with murderous intent.
Anderson glanced at Leon, then at the now-transformed Spellbook of Ages, and asked uncertainly.
"Merlin, you didn’t just destroy that idiot Relic Spirit, did you?"
Leon nodded coolly.
"Tried to rebel? I took care of him and swapped in a new Relic Spirit. No big deal."
All three of Anderson’s faces twisted into horror, and he stared at Leon, stammering.
"You really did it... Damn, you destroyed a Mythic Artifact’s Relic Spirit?"
Anderson’s three faces were all horrified, but the others understood exactly what that meant. Hubert cursed viciously.
"Good riddance. Anyone who tries to consume Lord Merlin deserves to be destroyed!"
The mage corps were bristling for a fight, shouting that it was for the best. These maniacs had long grown used to Leon’s ways—after all, they’d witnessed him forge True Spirit Artifacts, cultivate Relic Spirits, and even Anderson wasn’t originally born from the Arcane Wheel itself.
Now that a Mythic Artifact’s Relic Spirit had been destroyed, it didn’t even seem like a big deal anymore...
Seeing everyone bristling for a fight, Anderson wisely shut his mouth. He looked at the group as if they were idiots, but when he glanced at Leon, all three faces wore an expression like they'd seen a ghost.
Idiots, all of them. That was a Relic Spirit of a Mythic Artifact, not some worthless True Spirit Artifact—there’s no comparison at all.
Every Relic Spirit of a Mythic Artifact is unique. Yet Merlin could just swap one out for something else—unbelievable, utterly unscientific...
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And judging by the Spellbook of Ages, it could exert even greater power now, not weakened at all. Damn it, what can't Merlin do—or dare to do?
The Spellbook of Ages’ advancement to Mythic Artifact quickly faded into the background, and the group resumed their hunting. The Blazeforge Battlefield was thick with Pseudo Sky Rank Beasts; head in any direction, and you’d run into one within a day.
Ever since leaving the Sanctuary of the Ancients, the number of Pseudo Sky Rank Beasts had only increased. Now, every few dozen kilometers, there was at least one—and sometimes, several roaming in packs.
The mage corps had gained plenty of experience fighting these beasts, and Hubert, Reina, and even the Alchemical Golem had all benefited greatly in the sanctuary, growing much stronger than before.
After fusing another drop of Abyssal Blood Dragon heartblood, Hubert had advanced to Ninth-Rank Sword Saint. Reina was close to breaking through to Level 39, and with the Frostgate as her staff, her spellcasting power had increased by thirty percent.
With so much power and knowledge of the beasts’ weaknesses, hunting was easy. A lone Pseudo Sky Rank Beast could be dispatched in three minutes; even packs of three or four were dealt with in under fifteen.