Chapter 1132
Within the mist, a Three-Faced Monster emerged, each of its faces beaming with a dazzling smile.
“Ah, congratulations, congratulations! You’ve finally made it through the first trial. But honestly, your strength is far too weak. That was just the simplest maze, and it took you this long to get out.
But it doesn’t matter. That was just an appetizer, just to let you get familiar with things. Otherwise, if you all got wiped out in one go, wouldn’t that be boring?
See? I’m so reasonable, so merciful—I gave you a chance to get to know your opponent first.
Now that you’ve had your warm-up, let’s move on to the second trial. This one, I call the Misty Swamp. Hope you enjoy it.
But hey, don’t all die on me, alright? If you all drop dead, all my setups for later will be wasted…"
Cackling, the Three-Faced Monster melted back into the mist, its laughter lingering as it vanished.
Byron’s expression twisted again and again; he nearly coughed up blood on the spot.
The maze they’d struggled so hard to escape was just a warm-up to help them get familiar with their opponent?
That was only the first trial? Now comes the second—and there’s even a third after that?
“I’ll kill you, I swear—I’ll kill you, you damned bastard! These are all illusions, all illusions! You can’t scare me!”
Byron’s roar hadn’t even faded when a wave of oppressive snarls suddenly closed in from the surrounding mist.
Within the mist, pairs of green eyes appeared like a swarm of fireflies, suddenly lighting up the haze.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...
A dense barrage of piercing sounds tore through the air—the mist sliced apart as countless wind blades surged together, forming a massive azure wave that crashed down on the group.
Byron raised his Shadow Shield, unleashing a volley of Shadow Arrows. With a series of popping bursts, a dozen green eyes vanished into the mist.
But hundreds of green eyes still lingered, their icy gazes locked on the group...
As the battle began, the mist started to thin, and everyone finally saw what those green eyes belonged to.
A horde of Nine-Headed Azure Serpents had encircled them, each head weaving and spitting wind blades from its mouth.
A dense tide of azure wind blades surged like a crashing sea, slamming toward Byron and the others.
Gritting his teeth, Byron roared and swung his staff, firing Shadow Arrows one after another, blasting apart the heads of the Nine-Headed Azure Serpents.
The barrage of wind blades hammered their shields, sending ripples through them and rapidly draining everyone's mana.
After more than half an hour, no Nine-Headed Azure Serpents remained—the last one's body exploded, dissolving into a swirl of azure wind elements that faded into the swamp.
It was as if nothing had ever happened in the swamp, and those hundreds of bizarre Nine-Headed Azure Serpents had never appeared at all.
Byron steadied his mana, but he was starting to look a little crazed.
"It’s all illusions! You can’t fool me—it’s all fake! Trying to scare me? Not a chance!"
The intense drain on his mana made Byron suspicious. If it was just mana loss, why did the mages’ attacks on his Shadow Shield sap him so badly?
The attacks were real enough—but if it wasn’t just an illusion, why did all the monsters vanish after being killed?
He was wearing his Shadow Cloak, had a Plane Shadow sigil, and had pushed Shadow Stealth Magic almost to the limit of mastery.
Even the shadows from the Plane Path could be merged into—but here, even Shadow Stealth Magic lost its effect.
Impossible. The only explanation was that there were no shadows here at all. Everything he saw was an illusion; only nonexistent shadows could block his merging.
Byron was nearly hysterical. He trusted his Shadow Stealth Magic implicitly—he was a master infiltrator, after all. He had every reason to believe all this was just illusion.
Gritting his teeth, Byron strode deeper into the swamp. Nothing dangerous happened.
It wasn’t until Byron had walked a dozen meters ahead that the other mages, as if waking from a dream, hurried to follow.
But just as the group stepped into the swamp, a mage at the very rear suddenly vanished with a splash into the muddy water.
A Large-Mouthed Beast, caked in mud, poked its head out and swallowed the mage whole...
From within the mist, the mocking laughter of the Three-Faced Monster echoed once again...
“Truly foolish creatures. Merciful as I am, I let you get to know your opponents earlier—how could you forget so quickly?
Idiots deserve to die. If you survived, you’d only drag the others down. See? Now you remember, don’t you?”
Don’t let me down, now. All your opponents are waiting here—don’t die on me, or things will get boring later…"
The Three-Faced Monster slowly faded into the mist, vanishing from sight. Byron could only watch, not daring to give chase...
The group nervously summoned Shadow Demons to guard their rear, wary of monsters lurking in the swamp for a sneak attack.
After exhausting effort, they barely escaped the swamp—though two more mages had fallen inside.
Emerging from the swamp, the mages found themselves in a world blanketed with ice and snow. Covered in mud and utterly exhausted, they hadn’t dared use their mana shields in the swamp—the drain was just too great.
"This must still be an illusion. Don’t be afraid, everyone—the border between swamp and snow is way too obvious. Such a crude illusion can’t trap us. Let’s keep moving!"
Gritting his teeth, Byron urged his people onward and stepped into the snowy realm. As they advanced, endless snow would sometimes coalesce into slow-moving ice monsters that spewed frost spells. When enough gathered, they whipped up blizzards from the surrounding snow.
They charged through, losing two more mages along the way...
After surviving the snowy realm, they entered a land of fire and flowing magma, where packs of Large-Mouthed Beasts—each with heads half the size of their bodies—appeared in droves. The mages had to withstand their fiery breath while killing them fast enough to survive.
Otherwise, these flame-spewing Large-Mouthed Beasts would multiply, and even the scorched ground beneath their feet would split open, sending jets of molten lava spurting up to form pools across the landscape.
Even the scorched earth, when stepped on, would suddenly collapse—like a thin layer of ice over water—crumbling to reveal nothing but boiling magma beneath.
Flight was impossible, and many spells were restricted. In such a place, falling into magma meant disappearing forever—a plume of black smoke, and not even bones would remain.
After enduring countless hardships and battling bizarre monsters, the group finally reached a black-and-red palace.
Atop the palace stood a massive purple dragon statue, its face stern as it gazed down. In its arms, the dragon cradled a symbol shaped like a wheel.
In front of the palace, fifty Battalion Mages in dark red robes stood expressionless, while the Three-Faced Monster floated in midair, all three faces twisted in mocking grins.
"What a struggle, you worthless lot. You took ages to get here—this was the easiest trial.
Even such a simple challenge took you forever, and you lost so many people—idiots and incompetents...
I thought this would be fun, but you’re all so pathetic...
Enough, Kurum. I’m done playing—now it’s your turn."
Byron eyed the palace coldly, sneering at the emotionless Battalion Mages.
Hmph, another illusion. The foolish monsters are gone, and now you’ve conjured puppet mages?
I’ve seen through all your little tricks, Matthew Merlin. Stop wasting your effort—I’m not fooled!
Byron raised his staff and led his followers in a charge at the Battalion Mages, unleashing a barrage of Shadow Arrows to suppress them.
Just more monsters conjured up in different forms—but I’ve seen through it all. This is just an illusion; everything we see is fake!
When these monsters were killed, they would dissolve into base elements, leaving no corpses behind. Such crude elemental creatures lacked even basic instincts—how could they hope to keep us here?
If not for the harsh environments and constant ambushes, we wouldn’t have lost anyone.
Now, it’s just a bunch of Title Archmages—fifty Battalion Mages, with the strongest only at Third-Rank Title Archmage, and most at First Rank.
Such feeble power—do you really think you can stop us?
I’m a Ninth-Rank Title Archmage, and even the weakest among us is Seventh Rank. Together, we’re nearly ten strong—fifty low-level Title Archmages are nothing compared to those earlier monsters.
Matthew Merlin is probably just overhyped. Sure, he can fight at Sky Rank when he explodes, but his followers are all weaklings.
For the bumpkins of the Andalusia Kingdom, having one strong mage is a miracle—it’s just a minor mage family after all...
Full of confidence, Byron led his men in firing Shadow Arrows. Their earlier losses were due to ambushes; now, with a proper formation, Byron was sure he could wipe out everyone here in under a minute...
Byron and the other mages all believed everything before them was an illusion, brimming with confidence as they waited for the motionless mages to be destroyed.
The mage at the very front raised his staff, and in an instant, all fifty Battalion Mages moved in perfect unison, mirroring his gesture.