Chapter 823: The Core Team
Hubert grinned, clutching a pile of potions as he retreated to his room for intense training—his spirits high, as if he’d just won a treasure trove. For him, these potions weren’t just rare gifts; they were the key to breaking through his limits, and he was determined to wring every drop of power from them.
With Master Anderfa’s Wheel of Ten Thousand Spells now enhanced, he was at loose ends—so he spent his days thrashing the fifty Archmages, claiming it was “helping Merlin train his core team.” The training regime had improved drastically, and even the mages found themselves grateful for the new standards, albeit with a touch of humor at their relentless mentor.
Leon even splurged on his alchemical golem, swapping in a slew of rare materials for its parts—materials fit for true spirit artifacts, installed as if cost were no concern. The golem gleamed with magical upgrades, a testament to Leon’s resourcefulness and his willingness to lavish his creations with the finest enhancements.
Meanwhile, the Three Great Races aboard the Dauntless kept up their daily sparring matches in the ship’s spacious chambers. Years of rivalry didn’t vanish overnight—even with a shared leader, their competitive spirit thrived, and their camaraderie was forged as much through friendly combat as through alliance.
With Leon’s potions strengthening them, the Three Great Races found their prowess growing day by day. Their sparring led not just to bruises but to bonds—Dark Elves shared coveted fruits with Ashen Orcs, who in turn tossed rare materials to the Forgefire Dwarves. Resource exchanges flourished, and the races’ relationships improved with every scuffle.
The Forgefire Dwarves, restless after Las’s victory over the Inferno Warlord, built their own forge and began crafting weapons and armor for the Ashen Orcs and Dark Elves. Inspired by the battle, they set out to upgrade their allies’ gear, forging new bonds of collaboration and improvement.
With things settling down, Leon couldn’t wait to dive into the alchemy lab. While the Watson Family and the Black Tower were busy preparing their full-scale assault on the Blazeforge Realm, nobody paid any mind to the Merlin Family—leaving Leon free to pursue his magical experiments with eager anticipation.
Among the spoils, three treasures stood out: the unicorn horn of a six-tailed fox, the golden eye of a Behemoth, and the heart of a stone giant. Each was a rare magical artifact, their power and rarity enough to make any mage’s heart race.
These three artifacts were nearly impossible to handle—failure meant no second chances. Leon had held onto them, refusing to use them in any makeshift setup, waiting until he could work in a proper lab and treat them with the caution they deserved.
Now, with the lab ready, Leon began processing the artifacts. They were the essential ingredients for upgrading the Violet Dragon Avatar of the Doombringer Staff—a rare opportunity, and every Merlin Family member in Inferno Fortress watched with anticipation, knowing this was why they held Leon in such high regard.
Even in the vast expanse of Northend World, it would be nearly impossible to gather such a flawless set of top-tier materials as these. Their rarity and value were beyond compare, making Leon’s collection the envy of any archmage.
Once the Violet Dragon Avatar matured, the Doombringer Staff’s power would surge, and the strength of the Violet Dragon itself would double. The anticipation among the mages was palpable; magical growth and new heights were within reach.
With those potions and the enhancement from the Violet Dragon Avatar, the potency of elemental spells would increase by at least half. Every mage who partook could feel their magic swelling, their spells burning brighter and stronger than ever before.
Leon’s spellcasting was already formidable, but after reaching Title Archmage, his abilities soared even further. Any spell below third rank, cast by him, would be pushed to the absolute limit—an awe-inspiring display of magical mastery.
With the dual amplification from the Violet Dragon Avatar and the Elemental Chapter, even fourth-rank spells would rival the power of extreme spells. The magnitude of magical improvement was felt by all, regardless of their starting point.
Most fifth-rank spells, too, would approach the power of extreme spells—progression and magical might surged throughout the ranks, and every mage could sense new possibilities awakening within them.
Leon’s specialty was sixth-rank spells, and with the dual amplification of his magical arsenal, their power could leap by more than a full rank. The advancements were dazzling, and the future of the Merlin Family’s magic looked brighter than ever.
Of course, the cost of casting would skyrocket exponentially, but with a natural demi-plane as his magical reservoir, mana was never an issue. Confidence and resourcefulness defined Leon’s approach, ensuring no spell was beyond his reach.
Once the Violet Dragon Avatar successfully evolved, Leon would be like a walking array of magic crystal cannons—a one-man artillery platform, brimming with power and humorously exaggerated magical might.
Time surged forward like the roaring Howling River, never ceasing—a month was nearly up, and the urgency to seize every moment pressed upon them all.
The entire atmosphere within Inferno Fortress had transformed—where gloom and defeat once lingered, now the air buzzed with energetic optimism. Every mage and warrior moved with renewed purpose, their spirits lifted by the promise of progress.
On the plaza’s open ground, crowds of swordsmen battled daily, looking to vent their energy. Thorne himself would join in every few days, keeping the duels lively and the competitive spirit sharp.
If Primordial Deity Blood weren’t so precious—even Leon barely had enough for himself—he wouldn’t have been stingy and only handed out three drops. With fifty mages under him, three drops barely go around.
Besides all that, he shared some materials with the folks in Inferno Fortress so they could forge their own magic artifacts. These materials came straight from the God-Demon Dominion, and they’re way better than anything you’d find outside. Some of them even carried a trace of the Tree of Wisdom’s essence, which led to dramatic changes—artifacts forged with these materials could boost your rank by at least half a level.
The Merlin Family’s overall strength improved, and Leon certainly didn’t forget about his fifty Grand Mages.
Seeing those fifty guys again, Leon couldn’t help but marvel.
They were the Merlin Family’s castoffs, with terrible talent—destined to be ordinary mages for life. But now, after absorbing the magic from the Primordial Deity Blood and constant pushing, their talent had transformed. In just a few months, every single one of them had become an Archmage.
Even the weakest among them had reached Level Two Archmage, and the strongest was already at Level Six.
Their rate of progress was insane. Compared to other clans in the Blazeforge Realm, these fifty were geniuses. Thorne couldn’t bear to send them to die—he knew they were strong enough to hold the fortress, and as time passed, they’d only get stronger and eventually recover everything the Merlin Family had lost.
Watching these fifty all become Archmages, working together with perfect synergy, even Thorne—who’d just broken through as a Level Six Sword Saint—could only get beaten down when facing them as a group.
Leon gritted his teeth—these fifty mages were now his core team. He spared no expense, pouring mountains of rare materials from Constantine's Dominion and fifty drops of Elder God Blood into crafting potions that fully unlocked their potential. The magical enhancement was absolute, and Leon’s determination was unwavering.
They already bore the aura of the Elder Gods, and the mana they absorbed was infused with it. Over time, it was possible they’d even be able to generate Elder God Blood themselves—a testament to their magical progression and limitless potential.
With Elder God Blood as their foundation, these mages would never again be hindered by divine or demonic barriers at the Archmage stage. Their advancement was now unimpeded, and magical obstacles lay shattered before them.
After advancing to Archmage, their progress slowed and differences emerged, but thanks to Leon’s lavish cultivation, each could expect to reach Ninth-Rank Archmage in the future. Whether any could break through to Title Archmage, though—that remained uncertain.
Still, fifty Ninth-Rank Archmages was an awe-inspiring force. The scale of their power sent ripples through the magical world, and Leon’s achievement was nothing short of legendary.
Outside of powers like the Black Tower, no force could field fifty Ninth-Rank Archmages. In most mid-tier factions, a Ninth-Rank Archmage stood at the very pinnacle of authority and status.
In dangerous, unconquered realms like Blazeforge, Ninth-Rank Archmages would never be stationed lightly—losing even one was a bitter blow, and only those whose talent had reached its limit would be sent. The risk was immense, and the value of each mage immeasurable.
Of course, the cost of casting would skyrocket exponentially, but with a natural demi-plane as his magical reservoir, mana was never an issue.
Everyone in the Merlin Family benefited—each gained a significant boost, and Hubert and his companions received their share of rewards as well. The advantages were widespread, and no one was left behind.
After this period of battle, Reina had reached the peak of Level Thirty-Eight and could break through at any moment. Leon had copied countless frost spells from the Book of Ten Thousand Spells for her, and she vanished in a flash—like a miser spotting a pile of gold.
Inferno Fortress was utterly transformed. The defeat and gloom from a month ago had vanished; now, everyone seemed electrified, brimming with positivity.
Every day, crowds of swordsmen with nowhere to vent their energy battled on the plaza’s open ground, and Thorne himself would join in every few days.
If not for the sheer rarity of Primordial Deity Blood—even Leon barely had enough for himself—he wouldn’t have been so stingy, only handing out three drops. With fifty mages under his command, three drops were far from enough.
On top of that, Leon distributed materials to many in Inferno Fortress, letting them craft their own magic artifacts. These materials, sourced from the God-Demon Dominion, surpassed anything found outside. Some even carried a hint of the Tree of Wisdom’s essence, resulting in earth-shaking changes—artifacts forged here could boost one’s rank by at least half a level.
The Merlin Family’s overall strength surged, and Leon certainly hadn’t forgotten his fifty Grand Mages.
Seeing those fifty mages again, Leon couldn’t help but marvel.
Once considered the Merlin Family’s castoffs, their talent had been abysmal—destined for mediocrity. But after absorbing the magic from Primordial Deity Blood and relentless cultivation, their abilities were utterly transformed. In just a few months, every one of them had become an Archmage.
The weakest among them had reached Level Two Archmage; the strongest, Level Six.
Their progress was astonishing. Compared to other clans in the Blazeforge Realm, these fifty were prodigies. Thorne couldn’t bear to send them to their deaths—he knew they were strong enough to defend the fortress, and as time passed, they’d only grow stronger, eventually reclaiming everything the Merlin Family had lost.
Watching these fifty Archmages work together in perfect harmony, even Thorne—who’d just broken through as a Level Six Sword Saint—was no match when facing them as a group.
Leon gritted his teeth—these fifty were now his core team. He spared no expense, using a mountain of materials from the God-Demon Dominion and fifty drops of Primordial Deity Blood to craft potions that maximized the blood’s effects.
They already bore the Primordial Deity’s aura, and the mana they absorbed had been tainted by it. Given time, they might even be able to generate Primordial Deity Blood on their own.
Now, with Primordial Deity Blood as their foundation, these mages would never again be hindered by divine or demonic obstacles during the Archmage stage.
After advancing to Archmage, their differences became more pronounced and progress slowed. But with Leon’s lavish cultivation, each of them would at least break through to Ninth-Rank Archmage in the future. Whether any could reach Title Archmage, though, was another matter.
Still, fifty Ninth-Rank Archmages was a terrifying prospect.
Outside of powers like the Black Tower, no force could field fifty Ninth-Rank Archmages. In many mid-tier factions, a Ninth-Rank Archmage stood at the very pinnacle of authority and status.
In a dangerous, unconquered realm like Blazeforge, without exceptional talent, there was little hope of reaching Title Archmage. Ninth-Rank Archmages would never be stationed in such places—the loss of even one would be a bitter blow to their faction.
Everyone in the Merlin Family benefited—each gained a significant boost. Hubert and the others received their share of rewards as well.
After this period of battle, Reina had reached the peak of Level Thirty-Eight and could break through at any moment. Leon had copied numerous frost spells from the Spellbook of Ages for her, and she vanished in a flash, just like a dragon with a hoard of treasure.
Hubert grinned, clutching a pile of potions as he retreated to his room for intense training…
Old Anderfa, ever since the Wheel of Ten Thousand Spells was enhanced, had grown restless. Now, he spent his days thrashing those fifty Archmages, claiming he was ‘helping Merlin train his core team’.
Leon even splurged on the alchemical golem, swapping in a slew of rare materials for its parts—materials fit for true spirit artifacts, installed as if cost were no concern.