Chapter 1187
A faint, twisting shadow slithered, completely hidden among the broken stones on the ground. If not for the magitech array catching a trace of an unusual, weak aura, it would have been impossible to notice Bilbo making his move.
A simple Shadow Binding Spell—using shadow to bind the opponent's shadow, thereby restricting their body. The spell is level eight, yet its effects are hardly obvious.
Against a strong opponent of similar rank, it can be broken in less than a second, and the shadow mage who casts it will suffer a magical backlash, with the mana shock lasting longer than a second.
If you can't take out your opponent in that fleeting moment when the Shadow Binding Spell works, it's usually the shadow mage who ends up dead...
But now, that split second has become fatal!
In less than half a second, just as Leon was about to break free from the Shadow Binding Spell, a massive gravitational force enveloped him. The sudden surge twisted the runic shield around his body, and his bones groaned under the pressure.
Over a hundred meters away, Stell was being chased by a demon lord, battered and desperate, but he focused all his power—compressing the gravity into a three-meter radius, pinning it down on Leon.
In that instant, the gravity surged to nearly twenty times normal. This was the bloodline power of the Bronze Orcs, drawn from magical runes—not at all like a mage's gravity spell.
A mage's gravity spell just makes you feel like you're carrying a heavy load—it's elemental force. But the Bronze Orcs' gravity simply multiplies the earth's own pull, so shields and bodies alike are hit with the same crushing force.
The only difference is, the deeper inside you go, the weaker the pressure becomes...
The sudden surge of gravity forced all of Leon's blood toward his lower body, his vision went black, and though he broke free of the Shadow Binding Spell, he couldn't escape the crushing weight in an instant.
Within a single second, another disaster struck—a spatial rift, over five meters long, tore open behind Leon...
It was like a giant beast suddenly opening its jaws, waiting to devour its prey. The pull of the spatial rift was negligible to Leon, especially with the crushing gravity—there was no way he'd be swallowed by it.
But the Bone Lord, swinging its twin rib-bone weapons, delivered the final, decisive blow for Bilbo and Stell!
The massive rib bones smashed into Leon's runic shield, already warped by gravity. Like a baseball struck by a bat, the shield—with Leon inside—was sent flying straight into the spatial rift...
In that instant, Leon understood everything. His eyes turned cold.
He spat out three runes from the Death Tome, marking a coordinate. Then, a swarm of runic symbols burst forth like a hive of enraged poisonous bees.
Each rune, following the framework rules, assembled into a half-meter-tall structure.
A terrifying power radiated out—the runic frame collapsed instantly, and a jet-black wind blade sliced across more than a hundred meters, slashing deep into Stell's arm.
The mighty defenses of the Bronze Orcs were laughable before that wind blade—like a pure spatial rift.
If Stell hadn't reacted quickly and dodged just a bit, it wouldn't have been his right arm that was severed—it would've been his head.
The severed arm was instantly shredded by the raging force.
But it wasn't over yet—Leon activated five Void Meteor Summon Scrolls at once, forming a circle and trapping Stell at the center.
At the same time, five more Void Meteor Summon Scrolls were thrown at the Bone Lord, who had just delivered the final blow...
As for Bilbo, still suffering magical backlash, Leon gave him special attention: five Void Meteor Summon Scrolls and three Holy Light Envoy Scrolls...
Light poured down, completely cutting off Bilbo's chance to become shadow, leaving him unable to escape or negate the damage. He could only rely on sheer strength to endure five Void Meteor Summons—plus the demon lord he'd been fighting all along...
In an instant, Leon finished a flurry of actions—but he still couldn't avoid falling into the spatial rift.
As Leon fell into the rift, the Bone Lord swung another rib bone, shattering the newly opened spatial rift by force.
Leon vanished completely, while in the distance, Stell and Bilbo were just beginning to face their own disasters.
Stell's arm was torn to pieces, and overhead, five meteors—moving terrifyingly fast—had already appeared above him.
Five meteors, ripped from the void, formed a circle around Stell at the center. The impact shattered seven or eight of his bones in an instant. The Bronze Orcs' famed defenses barely kept him alive.
He'd just burned through massive power and lost an arm—his magic runes were incomplete, defenses and strength plummeted. Surviving was lucky enough.
Stell was drenched in blood, his face pale as paper. Even the demon lord chasing him wisely chose to dodge when the five meteors came crashing down.
Staring at the spot where Leon vanished, Stell gritted his teeth and forced a cold smile.
Damn bastard. That guy was hiding his strength all along. That wind blade sliced my arm like nothing, and those terrifying magic scrolls—how the hell did he get so many?
No matter. He's dead now. Heh, that spatial rift was only five meters long, and the pocket plane behind it is at most seven or eight kilometers wide.
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In less than three minutes, that pocket plane will be swallowed by the endless void. He'll die in there—no supernatural power, no access to spatial magic.
Three minutes—even a Saint-ranked alchemist couldn't construct a Plane Path alchemical array in that time.
Even knowing the exact coordinates, it was impossible—Leon Merlin was already dead!
On the other side, Bilbo hadn't been hit by Leon's runic wind blade, but three Holy Light Envoy Scrolls—each over half a meter long—bathed the area in light, erasing every trace of shadow within a thousand meters. For at least ten seconds, all shadow power was utterly banished.
In other words, Bilbo's shadow magic was crippled—his key spells, Shadow Stealth, Shadow Fusion, and Shadow Avatar, all wiped out!
No more blending into shadows to dodge attacks, no more transforming into shadow to evade damage—the shadow mage was now just another glass cannon...
A fragile mage, facing five Void Meteor Summons and a raging demon lord—he was in deep trouble...
Bilbo, shocked and furious, roared as he dodged again and again, destroying two true spirit magic items before finally escaping the Holy Light's range.
The moment he reappeared, the shadow always cloaking Bilbo shattered like broken porcelain, vanishing instantly...
With the shadows gone, Bilbo's true form was revealed—a pale, corpse-like middle-aged woman, face twisted with cold cruelty, drenched in blood, skin covered in branching cracks, on the verge of collapse...
Yet as she stared at the spot where Leon disappeared, a cold, twisted smile crept onto Bilbo's face.
Fool. Shadow magic is always underestimated, but the strongest shadow mage can take out powerful enemies with the weakest spells.
Just a single Shadow Binding Spell, and Leon Merlin died so easily. You dared offend the dignity of our Shadow Tower, slaughtered our mages, and even went after Diras—damn you, dying was too easy...
Bilbo and Stell were both satisfied with the outcome. Even if they paid a price, in this chaos, no one would notice their little tricks—instead, it would look like Leon attacked them.
Even if Crompton used Time Reversal to review the scene, at best he'd spot a few oddities in Leon's behavior.
This time, it was a human mage and an orc working together. Even if Crompton noticed something, as long as they stuck to their story, no one would risk the bigger picture for a dead man.
Bilbo and Stell were satisfied—even if both were badly wounded and nearly killed, their goal was achieved. No point in counting the cost now.
Dragging their wounded bodies, Stell and Bilbo still had to face two equally battered, berserk demon lords. Meanwhile, Leon had landed on a patch of land only seven or eight kilometers wide.
Calling it 'land' was generous—it was really a small mountain, seven or eight kilometers across and a few hundred meters thick, floating in the endless void. Chaotic forces battered its edges, but some unfathomable power kept expanding its size.
Every second, the mountain grew by three or four hundred meters, but after a dozen seconds, when it reached around fifteen kilometers, it was like a boulder in a storm—savagely ground down by the surrounding energy.
In just three or four seconds, it shrank back to its original size, and kept shrinking. At most ten seconds later, the pocket land would vanish completely, and everything on it would be destroyed.
With this pocket land here, it counted as a small dimensional plane. The spatial barrier could still hold off the raging forces outside—for now.
Void storms, temporal storms, energy storms, elemental storms—these forces, brimming with unfathomable power yet driven only by destruction, become unstoppable once the spatial barrier is gone. They shred everything in their path; even souls cannot survive.
Even a first-tier Sky Rank mage would be obliterated in less than three seconds by such forces. Crompton, a peak third-tier Sky Rank who might break through to the fourth tier at any moment, would find nothing but death if caught in these annihilating storms.
Leon stood atop the shrinking fragment of land, his expression frosted over. In his left hand, he drew forth the Death Tome, ready to channel the tome’s runic mysteries and carve open a Plane Path to escape this collapsing world.
Though the spatial rift had faded, as long as this Small Dimensional Plane persisted, Leon’s rune marker at the rift’s entrance remained—a secret latch in a pitch-black room, one that he alone knew how to open.
With the Death Tome’s power, Leon could easily tear open a Plane Path and leave at will.
But if he waited until the Small Dimensional Plane was destroyed, the coordinates would become meaningless—without a reference, they’d be lost to the void.
Coordinates only matter when two planes can be compared. The instant the Small Dimensional Plane is destroyed, its reference vanishes. In the endless void, if you use yourself as the anchor, coordinates shift chaotically—finding your way becomes impossible.
Even if the void’s destructive forces don’t tear you apart, you’ll wander lost forever.
During the golden age of the Northend World, countless beings—terrifying mages who’d surpassed Sky Rank—vanished forever while exploring the void.
Just as Leon began to intone two runes—one more and the Death Tome would force open a Plane Path—a flicker of light flashed across the tome’s surface.
It was faint, gone in an instant. But Leon felt it—a subtle, unstable resonance between the Death Tome and something else, flickering, barely there.
The moment he saw that glimmer, Leon halted before uttering the final rune.
That light—he knew it too well.
Magic Device Component!
Here, in this wretched corner of the void, the Death Tome was actually resonating with a Magic Device Component!
Even if the resonance was weak and intermittent, it meant one thing—the Magic Device Component wasn’t far, at least not from this soon-to-be-destroyed Small Dimensional Plane.
But the Small Dimensional Plane beneath him would collapse in ten seconds. Opening a Plane Path and safely crossing back to the Blazeforge Realm would take at least three.
Leon surged all his mana into the Death Tome, pushing his Mana Harness to its absolute limit, searching for that elusive, flickering connection.
As torrents of mana poured into the Death Tome, the tenuous link grew stronger.
The fragment of land shrank rapidly. The Small Dimensional Plane’s fragile spatial barrier was riddled with gaping wounds; wild energies already flooded in, turning the once-bare mound into a battered, hollowed husk.
The air, once nearly devoid of magic, was now saturated with violent, uncontrolled mana.
Five seconds left. The fragment was less than three kilometers across, its spatial barrier trembling violently—on the verge of total collapse.
Finally, the Mana Harness locked onto a trace—at last, the Death Tome fully linked to the Magic Device Component.
Without hesitation, Leon dashed toward the edge of the fragment, spitting out three runes—each packed with terrifying magical data, each drawn from the Death Tome’s arsenal, all designed to pinpoint and open a Plane Path.
Guided by that faint resonance, Leon completed both the pinpointing and opening of the Plane Path in a single second. A spatial rift yawned open before him—without pausing, he dove straight in.
The rift snapped shut behind him. In the next heartbeat, the Small Dimensional Plane was swallowed by endless destruction, erased from existence—every trace gone.
Crossing the Plane Path, Leon emerged in a newborn Small Dimensional Plane—barely three kilometers across, growing rapidly. The land was just a barren slab, magic so thin it was almost nonexistent.
Here, the resonance between the Death Tome and the Magic Device Component grew a little stronger.
Leon glanced down, sensing the plane beneath his feet. His old coordinate marker—set back at the Sacred Mountain—still held firm. A strange light flickered in his eyes.
That marker had been calibrated using both the Blazeforge Realm and the now-destroyed Small Dimensional Plane as references. But with one gone, the coordinate should’ve been useless.
Yet now, he could sense it clearly—he could open a Plane Path and leave anytime.
Leon pondered, but didn’t waste a second. No point waiting for this Small Dimensional Plane to expand to its limits and fall into destruction again.
He kept channeling mana into the Death Tome, sustaining the link with the Magic Device Component. Soon, he found the plane’s core—the channel to the resonance.
Three runes soared forth—a new Plane Path appeared. Leon crossed again.
This time, the Small Dimensional Plane was over twenty kilometers wide, but it was already shrinking—caught in the throes of destruction.
As expected, the resonance between the Death Tome and the Magic Device Component grew a little stronger here.
Leon kept leaping from one Small Dimensional Plane to the next—some just born, some already dying…
Opening a Plane Path wasn’t always possible. After crossing more than a dozen planes, Leon finally saw the pattern.
When the resonance weakened, or when the Plane Path couldn’t be opened, it meant the next Small Dimensional Plane was either just destroyed or just born.
Only planes that had already formed—whether rapidly growing or swiftly dying—could have a Plane Path opened.
After crossing more than fifty Small Dimensional Planes, Leon’s face was as pale as a corpse. Throughout, he had to keep flooding the Death Tome with mana, maintaining the link to the Magic Device Component.
He had to find the special point in each plane—the channel to the Magic Device Component, the spot where a Plane Path could be opened—in the shortest possible time.
These Small Dimensional Planes were fleeting—some lasted mere seconds, others a few minutes, from birth to destruction.