Chapter 652: Shredded
With a wave, Leon pulled out a crystal pen, glaring fiercely down the broad avenue.
Going back is out of the question. That route has no real restrictions, and there are probably plenty of troublesome undead lurking about. This floor is where most of the USS Dauntless’s main crew lived; the undead here are likely all above level thirty.
And so far, of Redbeard’s seven top lieutenants, only the undead of the Second Mate and Winchester have shown up. Including the First Mate, there are still five undead generals unaccounted for—most likely waiting on the other path.
This road is dangerous, but the danger is mostly just those alchemical arrays.
Most of these are defensive arrays, with only a handful of traps, counterattack arrays, and alarm arrays mixed in.
Even the highest-grade offensive array here barely scrapes into True Spirit level...
Damn it, you think you can activate the alchemical arrays? Control the arrays?
I’ll crack every array that so much as sparks—let’s see you try and activate anything then!
The crude remote crystal pen, guided by Leon’s magic, shot forward and began to dance ten meters ahead.
Every offensive alchemical array was cracked by Leon. With ten meters of clearance, even if one got triggered, it wouldn’t matter—at least it wouldn’t threaten anyone.
Anderson opened his mouth, watching the crystal pen whirl and dart.
The anxiety on his face slowly faded, replaced by a hint of schadenfreude.
What a bunch of idiots, they’ve really pissed off Archmage Leon now.
Trying to trap Archmage Leon with alchemical arrays? How naïve.
Brute-force cracking—just sever the key node and let the array collapse, even beyond repair. Pure destruction, nothing elegant about it.
But somehow, this most artless, destructive method felt almost artistic in Leon’s hands.
Anderson hovered by Leon’s shoulder, watching him work with grim focus, cracking arrays at a breakneck pace. It was oddly reassuring.
It was less than three kilometers, but it took the group over five hours to cross.
Once they made it through, Hubert dropped to the ground, panting heavily. The constant vigilance, always expecting an ambush, was more exhausting than any battle.
Anderson let out a long sigh, while Reina took a deep breath, her grave expression finally easing a little.
Leon listened to the periodic roars echoing through the halls, his brow furrowed.
They were almost at the Captain’s Quarters—just one last portal to cross. But the monster lurking nearby was deeply unsettling.
Not only was the creature healing faster—alarmingly fast—but its power had grown too. After all this time, they hadn’t seen it directly, but even its tentacles were far stronger than before.
And that’s from this distance. Facing it head-on now would be much worse than the first encounter.
Running for their lives, constantly bracing for fatal ambush—if nobody fell, it’d be a miracle; their nerves were stretched to the breaking point.
Leon took a deep breath and muttered under his breath.
"Let’s go. The last room should have the entrance to the Captain’s Quarters. Stay sharp, everyone."
Leon easily cracked the alchemical portal in the final room.
But the moment he did, Leon instantly cast Ice Barrier and leapt backward.
Sure enough, the moment Leon retreated, three thick, pitch-black tentacles lashed out from the alchemical portal.
With a heavy thud, those tentacles—each half a meter thick—slammed down right where Leon had been standing.
He was ready, though—Leon waved his hand, unleashing several Flame Spears that pierced the tentacle, followed by a barrage of Explosive Blasts that tore it apart.
"Hit it!" Leon growled.
Not waiting for more tentacles, Leon began casting again. Over a dozen Flame Spears shot into the portal, then he raised the Doombringer Staff—streams of fire dragons erupted from its tip, raging into the alchemical portal.
Anderson operated the Arcane Wheel, hovering in front of the portal. As the Wheel spun, spells from all four elements fused together, forming a three-meter-wide elemental storm that roared into the portal.
The Alchemical Golem raised its arms and unleashed a torrent of advanced spells at the portal.
Three spellcasters—basically walking artillery—unleashed magic at the five-meter-high portal. The surge of mana was so intense, it became a full-blown magical storm in that cramped space.
Every spell lost its original shape, merging into a single, chaotic elemental storm.
As the elemental storm blasted through the portal, anything behind it—whatever it was—would be shredded to pieces by that wave of pure destruction.
It took a full ten seconds before the elemental storm finally subsided.
Leon was the first to charge through the portal.
Inside, the room opened up into a vast expanse—at least several miles wide. Through the ruins it was clear this had once been a public area, littered with abandoned buildings, dueling platforms, and even the remains of old workshops.
A hundred meters ahead of the portal, where the elemental storm had just swept through, nothing remained. Beyond that, at least forty or fifty thick, black tentacles writhed in a frenzy.
You could even see seven or eight tentacles that had been shredded by the storm.
Those black tentacles seeped out from the ruins, merging into massive limbs fifty or sixty meters long. Some gleamed with a metallic sheen, others were etched with runes.
Leon’s expression darkened—he understood better than anyone what these subtle changes meant.
He raised the Doombringer Staff again; flames erupted from its tip, swirling into a massive vortex. When the vortex reached five meters wide, gigantic fire dragons—one meter thick, ten meters long—burst forth.
Every second, at least three fire dragons slammed into the black tentacles, an endless barrage.
Each fire dragon exploded on impact, the fierce flames warping the very air.