Chapter 237: Shattered
Everyone present had heard tales of the disaster at Angel Coast years ago. It was said that the Void Serpent was a genuine Level 40 magical beast—not only did its combat power rival those of Sky Rank masters, but it was also a rare ancient aberration, born with the ability to manipulate space. Its body was filled with countless overlapping spatial rifts; even a Sky Rank master, if swallowed, could be crushed by those colliding fissures.
If what this young Grand Mage said was true—if everyone was now inside the Void Serpent—then this was no joke. This endless corridor might well be a one-way path straight to hell...
A Level 40 magical beast...
Just thinking about the legendary powers of the Void Serpent made everyone’s face change in unison. Its strength nearly matched that of a Sky Rank master—a terrifying existence. In the Four Seasons Gorge today, even the newly-titled Archmage Sylas West wouldn’t survive a casual strike from the Void Serpent.
And now, everyone was standing in this corridor that seemed to stretch on forever...
After hearing the exchange between Leon and Sylas West, everyone gradually realized that this corridor might truly be inside the Void Serpent—a place where countless spatial rifts overlapped. Even Sky Rank powerhouses could be crushed here. For the mages, swordmasters, and sharpshooters present, it was almost an unsolvable predicament.
“This trap is insidious...” Soth’s face was grim. He’d thought that with the elite forces of the Nine Great Factions of Thousand Sails City, they’d be strong enough to tackle even the dangers of Vaughn’s Vault. Yet, after barely taking a single step, they’d already fallen into the belly of the Void Serpent—staring death in the face.
Soth was really just venting, but his words instantly set Fran off. The master from Mercury Tower had looked pale ever since Leon and Sylas West’s exchange. Now, hearing Soth’s complaints, he finally exploded.
“Lance, look at what you’ve done! You knew there was danger, and you still led us into this trap. Are you trying to get us all killed?”
"I..." Lance’s face flushed with anger, glaring at Fran for a long moment without managing a word. This was utterly unreasonable—everyone knew that exploring ruins was inherently dangerous. You could never predict what threats lurked inside, especially in a place like Vaughn’s Vault, left behind by the last Worldshaper of the Third Dynasty. Who knew how many traps someone at the pinnacle of alchemy had set?
But right now, Fran had clearly lost all reason.
"Don’t think I don’t know! You’ve resented Mercury Tower for ages—it’s not just because you weren’t accepted as a disciple back then, or because the Alchemist Guild of Seaview City has faced interference these past years. What, now you want revenge on me and Sylas West, dragging us into a place like this? Listen, Lance, if anything happens to me or Sylas West, you and your Alchemist Guild won’t see another good day!"
"Fran, what are you saying!" Lance nearly had a heart attack from rage. Their relationship had always been cordial, if not close, and he never expected Fran to snap like a mad dog when everyone was in danger.
"You know exactly what I mean!"
"Enough, Grandmaster Fran, save your strength..." Leon hadn’t planned to speak, but Fran’s ranting was getting on his nerves. He had to interrupt: "If you’ve got energy to bite at people, you’d be better off figuring out how to escape from here..."
"Bite at people? Me?" Maybe because of Caron, Fran always seemed to lose some of his nerve when facing Leon.
"Grandmaster Fran, you’re a bit too anxious. I just told a story and you lost your composure like this—your mental fortitude could use some work..."
"I..."
"Enough, Fran." Sylas West had been resting with his eyes closed. At his level, the squabble between two mages was nothing worth noticing. But Leon’s words made Sylas West open his eyes and look at Leon: "Grand Mage Merlin, are you saying..."
"I’ve heard that Void Serpents rarely live long—just a few centuries, a thousand years at most..."
"Hm?" Leon’s words made Sylas West realize the truth. The longest-lived Void Serpent in Northend lasted only sixteen hundred years. If this one really was the beast that ravaged Angel Coast, it couldn’t possibly have survived until now...
"But the body of a Void Serpent is almost eternal. Even in death, only its soul fades away; its corpse, filled with countless overlapping spatial rifts, can persist for ages. If a skilled alchemist found it, they could turn the corpse into an almost unsolvable maze array..."
"I see..." Sylas West finally understood. No wonder something always felt off—he’d thought it was just from walking inside the Void Serpent, but now realized the unease was on a soul-deep level. The heart of the Void Serpent was beating, but there was a hollow emptiness—no trace of a soul at all.
Before this, Sylas West wouldn’t have understood.
But now Sylas West knew: this Void Serpent was just a corpse—a corpse someone had turned into a maze array...
A maze array is still an array, and every array can be broken.
With this in mind, Sylas West calmed himself and began to analyze the corridor. Soon, he confirmed the truth: this endless hallway was just a maze array—one far more complex than any he’d ever seen.
The only consolation was that, after analyzing it, Sylas West found the maze array hadn’t reached True Spirit grade. That discovery brought a bit of relief; Sylas West was only a top grandmaster, still a step away from the rank of Worldshaper. If he’d faced a True Spirit Alchemical Array built around a Void Serpent’s corpse, he’d have had no choice but to surrender...
Still, it wasn’t far from True Spirit grade...
Although the techniques used were within the grandmaster’s realm, adding the Void Serpent’s corpse raised the maze array’s complexity to a whole new level. Its innate spatial control and overlapping rifts couldn’t be replicated by any technique—this was a maze array almost naturally formed. Even with Sylas West’s skill, he couldn’t guarantee he’d crack it.
Time ticked by. Sylas West’s face grew pale, sweat beading on his brow, his tightly furrowed brows knitting even tighter...
The quill that had been flying across the page now felt as heavy as a thousand pounds. Every character Sylas West wrote took all his strength. Everyone knew he’d hit a wall—instinctively, they held their breath, afraid of disturbing him.
"Master Sylas West, maybe try the Clifford Formula."
"Hm?" Sylas West, deep in thought, suddenly felt as if a fog had been lifted. Of course—the Clifford Formula!
His mind cleared. The quill danced across the paper, formulas piling up, and at last Sylas West identified the three weakest points in the maze array.
"Done!" Sylas West spread out the paper. "Now, I need two mages—preferably those who can precisely control casting timing. Power isn’t the issue; Grand Mage level should suffice. When I count to three, I’ll cast Fireblast at the first weak point. Three seconds after my spell, the second mage needs to hit the next weak point with Fireblast. Then, after another three seconds, the third mage will strike..."
"I’ll do it." When it came to precision in casting timing, no one in Seaview City could match Salomon. The ninth-level Archmage stepped forward without hesitation.
"We still need one more..."
"Merlin, don’t slack off." Salomon didn’t hesitate to call out Leon’s name...
...Leon touched his nose and stepped out from the crowd.
"Are you two ready?" In the past, Sylas West might have doubted Matthew Merlin—despite his extraordinary power, he was only in his twenties. Precise spell timing required years of experience. Could someone his age really outperform seasoned mages like Kadgar or Lance?
But now, Sylas West no longer thought that way...
Only Sylas West knew just how crucial that reminder had been.
Sylas West even felt that he hadn’t truly cracked the maze array himself, but rather, it was the young Grand Mage who’d called out, "Why not try the Clifford Formula?"
At that moment, Sylas West had nearly reached the array’s core—the link between the maze and the Void Serpent’s corpse. Completing that step would dissolve the whole array, but he’d hit a paradoxical formula he couldn’t bypass. Only the young mage’s reminder made him realize the Clifford Formula was the perfect solution.
Sylas West was a top grandmaster, just a step away from becoming a Worldshaper. In terms of knowledge and experience, most grandmasters weren’t fit to be his assistants, so he knew what kind of insight it took to suggest the Clifford Formula at such a crucial moment.
For a moment, Sylas West even thought of his teacher, Nolan.
Only a Worldshaper like Nolan could possess such insight—seeing the essence with a single glance.
But now, that same insight appeared in a Grand Mage barely in his twenties. Thinking back to what Caron had told him earlier, Sylas West had to admit: this young mage’s achievements in alchemy might already surpass his own...
Knowledge, experience, age—none of it mattered for this young Grand Mage. Sometimes, you just have to admit that there are unreasonable geniuses in this world. They don’t need years of accumulation, nor the tempering of time, yet they always manage to create brilliance beyond imagination.
Maybe this young Grand Mage was one of them...
"One, two, three..." Almost as Sylas West finished counting, a Fireblast exploded against the corridor wall.
Three seconds later, the second Fireblast went off.
Another three seconds passed, and Leon made his move...
A thunderous boom shook everyone’s ears. The world itself seemed to quake—then, as if in a daze, they heard a piercing wail. The world before them shattered like glass: one shard, two, three... until it splintered into countless pieces!
Long-lost light shone through the countless shards...
Suddenly, their surroundings opened up—lush trees, a sweet-scented breeze, soft soil underfoot, and in the distance, a clear lake rippling gently. The vibrant scene was filled with intoxicating life energy—rich, gentle, soothing—nothing like the unnatural vitality of Four Seasons Gorge. It made one unconsciously sink into its embrace.
Compared to that despair-inducing corridor, this was a different world entirely.
Yet, whether it was Leon, Sylas West, Salomon, or Fran, all of them felt a chill run from their feet to the top of their heads...