Chapter 130: The Dark Arena
"I told you, exploiting loopholes in a Soul Contract comes at a price. Even you, as a soul-based entity, are no exception. You should be grateful your tampering with this Soul Contract wasn’t that sophisticated—otherwise, what you’ve just signed wouldn’t be merely a master-servant contract..."
Leon spoke these words with a hint of genuine regret.
The only modification made to this Soul Contract was the true name: beneath Gallax’s true name, the Wraithwalker had hidden the name Shaun.
In the Northend World, Soul Contracts are the fairest agreements of all. If either party alters the contract, loopholes appear in its structure—the greater the tampering, the bigger the loophole. The Wraithwalker changed the contractor’s true name, so the only loophole Leon could exploit was in the true name itself.
What Leon did was exceedingly simple...
He merely swapped the positions of the two true names.
The contract remained the same, its contents unchanged, but the roles of master and servant were completely reversed.
That’s exactly why Leon said the Wraithwalker should count himself lucky...
Had the Wraithwalker tampered with the contract even further, Leon would have had more loopholes to exploit. At that point, it wouldn’t be just a master-servant contract anymore...
For example, there are Reincarnation Contracts that bind you for eternity, Soul Blood Oaths that link both parties’ lives, and pure enslavement contracts that offer nothing in return. In short, it would never be this relatively fair and flexible master-servant contract.
"How... how did you discover it?" The Wraithwalker curled up on the ground, its voice trembling. Now that the master-servant contract had taken effect, even without the Flame Chains, it couldn’t harm Leon.
Besides, it didn’t have the power to attack Leon anyway. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have used its last bit of magic to conjure the Wasteland Lord, nor would it be so helpless against a Tier-2 spell like Flame Chains...
"That’s a secret..." Leon smiled but didn’t answer.
In truth, only Leon knew he’d almost been fooled.
It really was a masterful deception...
At first, Leon nearly believed the projection before him was the real Wasteland Lord, because Gallax’s true name wasn’t supposed to be known for at least another twenty thousand years.
But soon after, the Wraithwalker slipped up.
Why would the mighty Wasteland Lord Gallax, a being beyond the Heavenly Rank, sign a master-servant contract with a human archmage?
Still, this flaw wasn’t enough to convince Leon—after all, beings of the Wasteland Lord’s level think and act in ways no archmage could ever predict.
Fortunately, the second flaw soon appeared.
It was the true name written on the contract.
When Leon held the contract, he immediately sensed something was off. Gallax’s true name only possesses infinite power in the ancient language of gods and demons, but the true name on the contract was written in Nesserian Script.
So Leon began to probe.
Leon tried bargaining with this suspicious Wasteland Lord—and to his surprise, it worked!
After a furious roar, the Wasteland Lord actually changed the contract’s duration to one hundred years.
By this point, if Leon still hadn’t realized it was a scam, he might as well have lived in vain. The Wasteland Lord is a terrifying being—bargaining with a human archmage? What a joke...
Leon cast True Sight—and sure enough...
"Now, isn’t it your turn to explain?"
"What’s there to explain? I just set up an alchemical array and waited for you petty thieves to take the bait." Though the master-servant contract was signed, the Wraithwalker was clearly unrepentant, its tone full of mockery and disdain.
At this moment, the Wraithwalker was truly indignant...
As an Essence Relic, the Wraithwalker had been trapped in the Prince’s Crypt for more than a thousand years. For special reasons, it had run out of mana centuries ago, and with its avatar fading, it devised a plan.
With its last remaining strength, it drew an alchemical array outside the Infernal Basalt Gate as bait.
To make the bait convincing, the Wraithwalker linked the alchemical array to a rune shield. In other words, the array could indeed control the rune shield, but when it came to the mana source, the Wraithwalker had rigged it—while it looked like mana was flowing into the array, the Wraithwalker was intercepting it all along...
Yet the Wraithwalker truly hadn’t expected there to be someone so stingy in this world...
Only two fifth-tier mana crystals!
When the mana from those two fifth-tier crystals entered its body, the Wraithwalker nearly wept. What could you even do with two fifth-tier mana crystals? They weren’t enough to power half a spell in its prime...
Damn it, just you wait!
Once Lord Shaun signed the master-servant contract with you, he’d make sure this miser got what he deserved!
And then, Lord Shaun conjured the Wasteland Lord.
And then, Lord Shaun’s luck ran out...
Even now, Lord Shaun still believes that if that damned human had been just a little more generous, if he’d gotten just a bit more power, he wouldn’t have ended up like this...
"So, even Essence Relics can run out of mana..." The Wraithwalker didn’t explain, but Leon quickly pieced together the cause and effect. He couldn’t help but let out a wry chuckle: "You really are unlucky..."
Leon’s laughter made Lord Shaun bristle instantly.
"You think you’ve won? Ridiculous human, dreaming of becoming Lord Shaun’s master. Did you forget that Lord Shaun is the embodiment of an Essence Relic!"
With that, the Wraithwalker dissolved into mist and vanished into the ring.
Next came a triumphant laugh echoing in Leon’s ears: "Hahaha, well? Ridiculous human, now you see Lord Shaun’s power! You signed a master-servant contract with Lord Shaun, but you forgot he’s the embodiment of an Essence Relic. If you’ve got the guts, try getting Lord Shaun out of the relic!"
Yet Leon showed no sign of panic—not even his smile changed.
"Sure, if you like hiding in a relic, you can stay there forever. But I promise, if you ever come out, you’ll be very, very happy..." Leon added, "By the way, I forgot to mention—I’m twenty years old, an Archmage, and people say I’ll reach Title Archmage before I’m forty. Maybe in a few decades, or a hundred years, I’ll even become a legendary Title Archmage. I’ve heard Title Archmages live for hundreds, even thousands of years. Do you have the patience to wait for me to die?"
"Human, don’t waste your breath. I’ve waited more than a thousand years in this tomb—waiting another thousand is just another nap to me."
"Sleep? That’s perfect. This way, I won’t need to provide you any mana. In fact, to help you sleep even better, I could design a custom alchemical array to block all mana transmission—so you’d sleep soundly, maybe until your avatar dissipates..."
...
For the first time, the Wraithwalker was silent...
A thousand years of waiting means little to an Essence Relic—it’s just another nap. But without mana, even an Essence Relic can’t endure. Last time it ran out of mana, its avatar nearly dissipated; the Wraithwalker had no desire to relive that misery.
"Honestly, what’s so bad about changing masters? That Prince Barov has been dead for over a thousand years. As an Essence Relic, do you really want to live in the past forever?" Seeing the Wraithwalker waver, Leon pressed his advantage, persuading even harder.
"Damn that Prince Barov!" The Wraithwalker suddenly cursed. "Don’t mention that lunatic—always raving about our world’s doom. In the end, the world didn’t end, but Barov destroyed himself first, trapping Lord Shaun in this lightless tomb for over a thousand years. If I have any memories, it’s only of his miserable final moments!"
...
"Enough, human. Don’t waste your breath. If you want Lord Shaun to serve you, forget it. Look at how weak you are—a mere Archmage, dreaming of commanding an Essence Relic like Lord Shaun. Do you think you’re Barov the lunatic? Here’s the deal: you’ll supply Lord Shaun with mana, and if he’s in a good mood, maybe he’ll let you borrow a little power..."
"No problem!" That was exactly what Leon had been waiting for.
The real problem would be if the Wraithwalker was determined to hide in the ring. In that case, Leon’s only option would be to cut off the mana supply, just as he’d threatened. That would be a lose-lose situation—the Essence Relic would lose its power and avatar, and Leon would miss out on a magical artifact.
Now that the Wraithwalker had agreed to cooperate, everything became much simpler for Leon...
All that talk about Lord Shaun letting you borrow a little power if he’s in a good mood—that’s just him putting on airs. The contract they signed is a master-servant pact; if Leon dies, Lord Shaun won’t fare much better. At best, he’ll be downgraded from an Essence Relic to a Soulbound Relic...
Besides, Leon is only an Archmage right now. Even using a fraction of an Essence Relic’s power is already pushing it; if he tried to wield its full strength, he’d be drained dry before the enemy was even defeated.
As for when he’d fully master this Essence Relic...
Leon figured it would have to wait until he reached the rank of Archmage. By then, his nine Mana Harnesses would fully merge, giving him combat power close to a ninth-tier Archmage. Only then would he have a real chance of mastering the Essence Relic.
For now, even a fraction of its power is more than enough...
Actually, what Leon wanted to borrow wasn’t even the Essence Relic’s power.
"Um, Lord Shaun, mind if I ask you a question?" Leon picked up the ring from the ground and cautiously slipped it onto his left ring finger.
There’s a superstition among mages: all believe the ring finger holds mysterious power, so the strongest magic rings are always worn there...
"That depends on Lord Shaun’s mood..."
...Leon cursed under his breath, took a deep breath to suppress the urge to cut off the mana supply, and said, "I just want to ask—how do you open the Infernal Basalt Gate?"
"Seriously...?" The ring on his hand suddenly exclaimed, "You seem clever, human. Why ask such a foolish question?"
"My name is Mafa Merlin. You can call me Master or Merlin, but stop calling me 'human.' Otherwise, I might forget to supply you with mana if I get agitated..."
"Such feeble mana, and you threaten Lord Shaun with it..." The Wraithwalker grumbled, but at least switched to 'Merlin.' "Fine, Merlin, let Lord Shaun tell you how to get through the Infernal Basalt Gate... By the way, 'Merlin' is a truly foolish name..."
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Son of a...
Leon felt the veins on his forehead twitch. After a few deep breaths, he barely resisted the urge to curse out loud: "Are you going to tell me or not!"
"Your attitude isn’t great, you know. Lord Shaun is starting to get annoyed..." The Wraithwalker was about to keep up the act, but before he finished, he felt the mana supply suddenly cut off. Sensing his power fading, Lord Shaun quickly changed his tune.
"But it’s fine, Lord Shaun is in a good mood and won’t hold it against you. Stop staring at that alchemical array—it was created by Lord Shaun’s power, just to trick foolish humans like you. No matter how much mana you pour in, it only goes to Lord Shaun. As for the real method, you’ll find it on the Infernal Basalt Gate itself..."
Leon cursed inwardly. Damn, these soul creatures are shameless...
With the Wraithwalker's reminder, Leon finally understood—the Infernal Basalt Gate did have a mechanism, but some shameless soul creature had hidden it behind an illusion.
Leon walked over, his face dark. Sure enough, once the Wraithwalker's power faded, a ring appeared on the previously blank Infernal Basalt Gate, surrounded by a riddle inscribed in Nesserian Script. Just as Leon began to ponder how to solve it, Lord Shaun’s voice echoed again...
"Don’t bother. It’s such a simple riddle—Lord Shaun will just give you the answer. Three turns left, four turns right. Try it, foolish human... no, foolish Merlin..."
Leon simply chose to ignore him...
Still, he followed the Wraithwalker’s instructions, turning the ring three times left and four times right. The Infernal Basalt Gate began to shift with a scraping sound, and in moments, a colossal arena appeared before him.
"You’ve got to be kidding..." Leon saw the massive arena and knew he was in trouble. In the records of the Cloudspire Tower’s Archmage, at least half the entries mentioned this gigantic arena.
"Haha, Merlin, you’re really lucky. Passing through the Gate of Life and Death, there’s only a one-in-ten chance of entering the Dark Arena—and you managed it! How about Lord Shaun guesses what kind of opponent you’ll face next?"
"Why don’t you guess when I’ll cut off your mana supply." Leon retorted.
"Damn it, you’re threatening Lord Shaun!"
This time, Leon chose to ignore the boastful, chatty Essence Relic, and after touching his nose, finally stepped into the Dark Arena.