Chapter 523: Demon Pact
He was filled with joy after securing a plot of land from the young mage—Leon Merlin—even gathering dozens of talented youths from Darkmoon Fortress. But in the end, what awaited them was tragedy: nearly every one of those promising young mages perished in the sea of flames.
And it was all because of Matthew Merlin!
"Councilor Suville, that's not something you should say carelessly..." Leon Merlin rubbed his nose, giving Suville a cool, detached glance as he faced the furious councilor. "When I gave you that plot, I warned you about the dangers here. Councilor Suville, have you forgotten?"
“You...”
Suville was rendered speechless. He clearly remembered yesterday—the young mage had indeed warned him, but he hadn't cared at the time. Who could have imagined that Specter Valley concealed a demon with peak Level Thirty-Seven power?
He even suspected that the young mage had known about the demon all along, and had deliberately set him up.
At that thought, Suville gave Leon Merlin an oddly suspicious look but said nothing more. He turned and walked off, his weary figure melted into the shadows of the night, vanishing without a trace.
Leon didn't leave even after Suville vanished completely, choosing to remain where he was...
He felt the Lava Baron's sudden appearance was suspicious...
But what truly caught Leon's attention was not the altar itself, but the figure atop it...
It was an elderly Blazeforge Orc, gaunt and grey-haired, his eyes vacant and his body devoid of life. His weathered face showed no emotion as he stared at Leon. After several seconds, he rasped, "I can't accept it... I failed to kill you damned invaders..."
So it was you...
Leon watched for a moment, deep in thought, his brows furrowed. After half a minute, a faint smile appeared on his lips as realization dawned—he finally understood what had happened tonight.
The Blazeforge Orc before him was actually one of the six prophets of the Forgefire Clan. When Leon first entered Specter Valley, he was ambushed by an orc squad led by this prophet, Lazart, who was also the mentor of the young Blazeforge Orc, Ash.
In the decisive battle at the foot of the Sacred Mountain, the alliance nearly wiped out the Forgefire Clan. But upon closer inspection, it was discovered that only five prophets had participated—though the clan was known to have six. The last prophet had never appeared.
And Lazart was the missing prophet...
If Leon hadn't encountered Lazart in Specter Valley a few months ago, he wouldn't have recognized him as a prophet now.
Lazart was now so weak that the energy he radiated was pitiful—he was less powerful than a Grand Mage, and his life was on the verge of exhaustion. He would die soon.
In this state, no one in any part of the Blazeforge Realm would spare him a second glance.
No one would believe he was a clan prophet...
After all, prophets were considered top-tier powerhouses in the entire Blazeforge Realm, equivalent to Title Archmages among human mages.
"You summoned the demon, didn't you? Using a soul sacrifice ritual..." Leon said with a sardonic smile, staring at Lazart atop the altar.
With his keen perception, it was easy to see—the altar was designed for sacrifices, and Lazart's weakness and depleted life force were almost certainly the result of one.
"So what if I did? I wanted to kill you damned invaders and avenge my clan..." Lazart's aged face twisted with madness as he snarled, "Even though I failed this time, don't get too happy. When two suns appear in the sky, the flames of the Flameflow Mountains will burn you invaders to ashes, dooming you to eternal torment in hell..."
Pfft...
At that moment, Lazart's voice was abruptly cut off as an ice spike pierced his chest, ending his life. He collapsed weakly atop the altar.
Two suns... Flameflow Mountains...
On the way back, Leon kept pondering Lazart's last words: two suns appearing in the sky. It sounded unbelievable—almost impossible.
But Leon, who came from thirty thousand years in the future, had already experienced far stranger apocalypses. Two suns in the sky was hardly anything to him.
Of course, the most important thing was that Lazart had mentioned the Flameflow Mountains...
Undoubtedly, the Flameflow Mountains were crucial for Leon on this Blazeforge Realm journey. The Spellbook of Ages was born there, and Leon faced a dilemma: with three Meditation Codices, to advance to Title Archmage, he had to fully fuse his Meditation Codices with Arcane Sigils.
But he only had one Arcane Sigil—the Mana Harness. The Arcane Wheel could substitute for fusing one Meditation Codex, but for the last, he could only rely on the Spellbook of Ages.
So, he had no choice but to go to the Flameflow Mountains...
The Ancestral Family Council sent him to the Blazeforge Realm not to compete, but to cooperate with the Watson Family and search for the Merlin Family's ancestral relics in the Flameflow Mountains.
From every angle, Leon believed the Flameflow Mountains were the core of the Blazeforge Realm—not only mysterious, but home to the strongest orc tribe.
After more than ten minutes, Leon returned to the vicinity of the Dragon-Rearing Array. After nine days, the protective power was so weak it was almost negligible, but Leon didn't dare act rashly and continued to guard nearby. He estimated the force would dissipate completely by tomorrow.
Heart of Lava...
After several hours of meditation, Leon recovered and suddenly remembered the Heart of Lava in his pocket. It was an alchemical material coveted by any alchemist. Strictly speaking, the Heart of Lava wasn't widely useful—it could be used like a magic crystal, but that would be a terrible waste...
The true value of the Heart of Lava lay in its ability to create a magical alchemical array known as the Demon Pact.
In the golden age of magic, nearly every top faction in Northend World possessed a Demon Pact. This alchemical array was a mark of true power, since Lava Barons were so rare. Unless one was as lucky as Leon, getting a Heart of Lava required venturing to the deepest part of the Endless Abyss and hunting a Lava Baron.
As soon as he took out the Heart of Lava, a wave of terrifying heat spread out. The Heart of Lava lay flat, pulsing rhythmically, and with each beat, Leon could sense a surge of power slowly awakening.
Leon took out a quill and, using pre-prepared ink, began inscribing runes onto the Heart of Lava. Even with his mastery of alchemy, he had to be extremely careful when setting up the Demon Pact array—any mistake could mean failure and immense loss.
Within minutes, Leon's forehead was covered in sweat, his mage's robe soaked through. He had no time to care—his focus was entirely on the array.
Every rune inscribed on the Heart of Lava required precise calculation. For most master alchemists, even the simplest rune would require four or five days of calculation. But with the Mana Harness, Leon could work hundreds of times faster. After three hours, the Heart of Lava was covered in dense golden runes.
"Done..." After finishing the last rune, Leon put down his quill and wiped the sweat from his brow, exhausted. This was a complex and tedious task, but his formidable calculation ability allowed him to complete the Demon Pact inscription in about five hours.
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