Chapter 1080: The Flame Vortex
In the future, the Spellbook of Ages never truly advanced to become a Mythic Artifact. Its greatest value lay in the endless spells inscribed within its pages—if one had enough patience, it was always possible to discover some truly formidable incantations.
Yet, its true worth was not in those powerful spells, but in the infinite incantations themselves. The more one studied those boundless spells, the deeper one's understanding of every rune within them would grow—eventually reaching an unimaginable level.
It's like a poet who wants to compose verses—first, they must learn every word, and then master how to arrange those words into beautiful poetry.
Everyone knows the words, but only a handful can arrange them into poetry that endures through the ages.
Spells are like those poems—most mages recognize the runes within, but very few can use those runes to create original incantations themselves.
And of those original spells, the ones with true power or unique value are even rarer—almost pitifully so.
The spells inscribed in the Spellbook of Ages are, in essence, lessons in how to create magic. Even if you read millions of spells and never invent anything earth-shattering, you could still combine your own strength and insights to craft incantations that suit you.
That is the true value of the Spellbook of Ages. To use it merely as an Essence Relic is, frankly, a waste.
These were just the ways people saw the Spellbook back when it was still an Essence Relic. After all, even in the future, it never managed to ascend to a Mythic Artifact.
Leon gave a wry smile, finally realizing what felt off—this foolish magical avatar, just born, was already trying to turn on its master.
“Doroman, right? Not fully awake yet?”
Doroman paused, not understanding what Leon meant.
“The great Lord Doroman has awakened from endless slumber, you human…”
As he spoke, Doroman noticed the mocking look in Leon’s eyes and suddenly realized he’d been played.
Foolish human, you spurn the great Lord Doroman’s goodwill. You’ve wasted the greatest opportunity of your life. Since you refuse to follow the great Lord Doroman, you can die now!
With that, Doroman opened his maw wide, and the elemental energies around them seemed to erupt in chaos, as if all power was being summoned.
As Doroman snapped his jaws, the surrounding magical elements and even space itself seemed to sweep Leon toward Doroman’s gaping mouth.
The terrifying force closed in, but Leon merely raised a magical shield around himself and let Doroman swallow him whole.
The world before his eyes suddenly shimmered with radiant light. After a second, Leon found himself in a vast, boundless void.
He stood on an invisible surface, with nothing but mist below and all around—an endless fog hiding everything from view.
Leon looked around, his expression calm, waiting quietly.
A few seconds later, the surrounding mist began to ripple, spreading outward as if swept aside. Within the fog, spells woven from strands of light appeared ahead.
Those spells fell from the mist to the ground, transforming into balls of light that quickly became humanoid figures. As the glow faded, an identical Leon appeared across from him…
Within the mist, more spell-lights emerged, each transforming into a blank-faced Leon landing on the ground.
The mist behind began to part to either side, and more spells fell from the fog, each becoming yet another blank-faced Leon…
As more spells appeared, more “Leons” emerged, forming a seemingly endless corridor into the depths of the mist, the road crowded with countless duplicates.
[SKIPPED: Irrelevant passage per guidelines]
Suddenly, the foremost “Leon” raised a hand and unleashed a spell—a simple wind blade slashed toward Leon. After casting one, this “Leon” continued to fire wind blades like a machine, ceaselessly.
This “Leon” was the fastest spell to take on Leon’s form—a basic wind blade spell. Aside from this spell, this “Leon” knew nothing else.
Leon gazed into the depths of the mist, sneering. This fool Doroman—The Spellbook of Ages bears his magical mark. Back when it was an Essence Relic, he was already its master.
As a magical avatar, it’s absolutely impossible for Doroman to harm Leon in the outside world. The best way to turn on him is to swallow Leon into the Spellbook’s realm. Here, Doroman controls everything—if he kills Leon, he erases Leon’s magical mark, and the Spellbook becomes ownerless again.
He could even enslave and consume the master, making the Spellbook stronger and freeing the avatar from its limits.
Doroman plans exactly that—swallowing the original master not only removes the Spellbook’s owner, but also frees the avatar. Doroman, as the magical avatar, would gain strength and become like a true magical beast, eventually evolving into a powerful being.
This has happened before in the future—a mad artificer tried to create a Mythic Artifact, but failed every time, never even coming close.
Later, he had a wild idea—if he couldn’t make a Mythic Artifact in one leap, the gap between Essence Relic and Mythic Artifact was too great, so he’d cross it bit by bit.
Since the artifact itself couldn’t cross the gap, he let the avatar do it. He created a magical relic with almost no combat ability, but used his knowledge to nurture a very special avatar.
This avatar could endlessly devour materials and power to evolve. Its strength grew without limit, until it was just one step away from becoming a Mythic Artifact’s avatar.
At that moment, the avatar betrayed him, devoured its master whole, and completed the final step—ascending into a Mythic Artifact’s avatar.
That advancement freed it from the former limits of an Essence Relic, turning it into a true living being. The rogue avatar fled into the Abyss, and in the future, became a demon lord on par with the Celestial Realm’s peak, ruling a vast territory.
Doroman is clearly planning the same—if he devours Leon, everything Leon has will be his. He could even take control of the Spellbook of Ages, gradually weakening its restraints until he’s truly free.
With the Spellbook of Ages as his foundation, Doroman only needs a short time without being controlled. After that, perhaps no one will ever be able to control him again.
Leon sneered, looking at the dense mass of blank-faced “Leons” before him, like alchemical puppets. With a wave of his hand, a vortex of flames appeared behind him.
Countless fire spells surged forward in a torrent. The “Leons” formed from basic spells at the front were instantly annihilated.
Each “Leon” exploded, reverting to magical runes that floated in midair, unable to recombine. As more “Leons” were destroyed, the mist kept spewing out new spells, assembling more duplicates.
The scattered runes drifted in the air, unable to form spells again. As swathes of “Leons” were shattered into runes, the mist kept producing more spells, forming more “Leons”.
Leon frowned. Though these were only basic spell incantations, their numbers were endless—there was no way to kill them all. Even Leon didn’t know how many basic spells the Spellbook of Ages contained—at least eighty thousand, maybe a hundred thousand. With endless rune combinations, the basic spells here truly seemed infinite.
Any random combination of runes would at least form a basic spell, no matter how weak.
At that moment, the avatar betrayed him, devoured its master whole, and completed the final step—ascending into a Mythic Artifact’s avatar.
That advancement freed it from the former limits of an Essence Relic, turning it into a true living being. The rogue avatar fled into the Abyss, and in the future, became a demon lord on par with the Celestial Realm’s peak, ruling a vast territory.
Doroman is clearly planning the same—if he devours Leon, everything Leon has will be his. He could even take control of the Spellbook of Ages, gradually weakening its restraints until he’s truly free.
With the Spellbook of Ages as his foundation, Doroman only needs a short time without being controlled. After that, perhaps no one will ever be able to control him again.
Leon sneered, looking at the dense mass of blank-faced “Leons” before him, like alchemical puppets. With a wave of his hand, a vortex of flames appeared behind him.
Countless fire spells surged forward in a torrent. The “Leons” formed from basic spells at the front were instantly annihilated.
Each “Leon” exploded, reverting to magical runes that floated in midair, unable to recombine. As more “Leons” were destroyed, the mist kept spewing out new spells, assembling more duplicates.
The scattered runes drifted in the air, unable to form spells again. As swathes of “Leons” were shattered into runes, the mist kept producing more spells, forming more “Leons”.
Leon frowned. Though these were only basic spell incantations, their numbers were endless—there was no way to kill them all. Even Leon didn’t know how many basic spells the Spellbook of Ages contained—at least eighty thousand, maybe a hundred thousand. With endless rune combinations, the basic spells here truly seemed infinite.
Any random combination of runes would at least form a basic spell, no matter how weak.