Chapter 1475
In the final days of the Nesser Dynasty, old hatreds erupted—violently, irreversibly, until no one could stop them...
Uther died, forced to become an undead. Then the Lord of Nightmares seized his body, returned to the Undead Plane, and entered the Realm of Nightmares, hoping to reclaim his lost glory there.
But at that moment, Uther resurfaced. Countless years of hardship had changed him; his former innocence long gone. Driven by vengeance, he grew cunning and ruthless. Deep within the Realm of Nightmares, Uther wielded the Blood Chapter.
He trapped the Lord of Nightmares' wisdom inside a Mindscape, using the Blood Chapter as an anchor, condemning him to be forever imprisoned in his own domain.
The Lord of Nightmares never realized Uther had been undead from the beginning—he simply thought Uther had fallen...
The sudden turn of events left the Lord of Nightmares stunned. But as a fragment of a god-demon soul, his counterattack left Uther gravely wounded.
Uther's soul was cursed by the Lord of Nightmares, torn into two halves: one belonging to the Sunfire Elves, the other to the Black Dragons. His soul and personality were ripped apart...
Yet, because of the Blood Chapter's power and Uther's unique nature as a god-demon vessel, even a shattered soul did not mean death. Instead, part of his corrupted soul merged with the Lord of Nightmares' wisdom, sealed here.
The good half of his soul and personality escaped the Realm of Nightmares, reincarnated and vanished. Only when the Lord of Nightmares saw Uther leave, soulless but fused with his own evil, did he finally understand what had truly happened...
Uther was undead from the start, resurrected by the power of the Blood Chapter. When he died again and became undead, he turned himself into a lich...
Life in the Undead Plane taught him: soul fire is destined to be devoured by others. So why cling to it? Instead, he became a lich, hiding his soul elsewhere. And what could be safer than the depths of the Realm of Nightmares?
Without it, his evil soul was consumed by the Lord of Nightmares' wisdom, becoming one with the Lord of Nightmares himself—though the two were always intertwined.
The Lord of Nightmares was trapped in this Mindscape of Uther's making. He would never allow himself to perish. Even if the Mindscape collapsed, the Lord of Nightmares would survive—just never escape.
Uther became a lich whose soul was anchored to the Blood Chapter. Even he couldn't reclaim his own soul, so no one else could either—a truly unbreakable phylactery...
After seeing all these memories, Leon's expression grew strange. A thought flashed through his mind: Blood Lich...
After every slaughter, the Blood Lich would drain his victim's blood. He reveled in tormenting the living—his name a byword for terror, even in the Undead Plane.
Thinking back to the Blood Lich's deeds on the Leviathan Plane, Leon was certain: it had to be him. Uther's transformation into the Blood Lich—no one else could fit the bill.
When the Blood Lich was weak, many tried to find his phylactery, but it was always out of reach. Killing him only led to bloody vengeance when he resurrected—after that, no one dared provoke him.
A single act of revenge could last thousands of years. Even the undead steered clear of this mad dog.
Unless you destroy a lich's phylactery and soul, the lich is truly immortal. Even if its body is destroyed, it will resurrect again. For a terrifying undead like the Blood Lich, the body is irrelevant—being reborn is no big deal.
No one knows how many spare bodies he kept in the Undead Plane, but one thing is certain—lich reserves are always a secret, and never run out.
The Blood Chapter was gradually suppressed and merged into the Death Tome, becoming one with it. Yet the remnants of Uther, or the Lord of Nightmares' god-demon soul, were still sealed inside. Unless resolved, this would remain a major problem.
After reading the remaining memories three times, Leon still couldn't find what he was looking for. The fall of the Nesser Dynasty was due to many reasons: the infighting between Pureblood Elves and Chromatic Dragons—a feud carried over from the Age of God-Demons.
The demon invasion could also be traced back to that ancient feud, but what truly destroyed the Pureblood Elves and Chromatic Dragons was the war on the Stellar Battlefield...
Legend has it the Pureblood Elves and Chromatic Dragons fled to the Apocalypse Plane, but that world is now ruined—and both races are extinct.
The enemies on the Stellar Battlefield were, shockingly, also Pureblood Elves and Chromatic Dragons, along with other races—even some that vanished before the Nesser Dynasty. And then came the Lord of Misfortune, leaving Leon utterly baffled.
The seventy-two god-demons were wiped out in the Age of God-Demons—even the unborn seventy-third was destroyed. The Lord of Nightmares' memories were clear: all seventy-two fell in that era.
So what was the Lord of Misfortune's story?
The Lord of Misfortune's abilities seemed impressive, but for a god-demon, they weren't much. Of the seventy-two, his strength ranked in the bottom twenty. He was killed early in the war—by the Lord of Wisdom, according to the records.
Leon didn't believe the Lord of Misfortune could pull off a perfect escape right under the eyes of the other god-demons. So what was his story, really?
Dragged into a void trap by the Grand Elf King, both perished together. So why does Northend World still hold fragments of the Lord of Misfortune's god-demon soul?
This chapter isn't over yet ^.^—click next page to continue reading!
None of these questions have perfect answers—in fact, the mysteries just keep piling up...
Leon shook his head and set these matters aside for now. The priority was rescuing Agalon and the other five.
The Realm of Nightmares was as enigmatic as the god-demons themselves in this era. Even Agalon, for all his wisdom, couldn't figure out how to escape the Mindscape so quickly.
In the future, mages in pursuit of magical truth would risk everything. Thousands spent centuries studying the Realm of Nightmares before they understood it well enough.
With five Mindscapes left, it didn't matter which one he chose—they all had to be rescued anyway.
Leon picked a Mindscape at random and approached. The same phenomenon occurred: the Mindscape expanded rapidly, his body felt like it was falling—and soon, he opened his eyes to find himself at Astral Academy.
The moment Leon arrived, a squad of Griffin Sky Knights flew over from afar, each one Sky Rank. The entire Astral Academy loomed before Leon like an ancient beast lying in wait.
Tubby, who was perched on Leon's shoulder, trembled all over and wore a miserable expression.
"Master, when will this end? There are still five to go, and each one's so terrifying. We'll die here—Chief said if we die here, our souls can't return, we'll be gone for good..."
Leon patted Tubby and grinned.
"Don't worry, this time won't be as dangerous as last time. That was just a fluke..."
Tubby looked even more miserable, wanting to say something but didn't dare. His little claws clung tightly to Leon's robe, eyes squeezed shut, muttering nonstop under his breath.
"Chief said, we'll really die—gone for good..."
Leon stood his ground, not avoiding the Griffin Knights. Instead, he let the unique aura of an Alchemist—and the creative power of a Saint Alchemist—radiate from him.
Sure enough, sensing Leon's aura, the squad of Griffin Knights landed from the sky, bowed respectfully, and left without questioning his presence.
A Saint Alchemist of Sky Rank Seven could walk freely through Astral Academy—no one would dare stand in his way.
Leon withdrew his aura and stepped into Astral Academy. This version of the academy seemed smaller than the one Leon knew, but it exuded an ancient air.
He couldn't tell whose Mindscape this was. After all, whether it was Agalon, Alonzo, or any of the other three deans of Astral Academy, their Mindscape could easily be Astral Academy—it was the place they'd spent most of their lives.
He walked along the main avenue of Astral Academy, glimpsing young alchemist apprentices hurrying by. They were the lowest rung of the alchemist hierarchy, tasked with nearly all the menial and exhausting chores.
Most alchemists, after reaching higher ranks, would delegate these trivial tasks to apprentices. The work was simple and time-consuming, but it formed the foundation of alchemy, so letting apprentices handle it was only natural.
Every alchemist started this way. Many, in pursuit of perfection, still preferred to gather and process materials themselves.
Leon didn't rush to find Agalon and the others—he didn't know who was present or which era of Astral Academy this was. Finding someone wouldn't be easy, but if he lingered for a few days and word got out, the right person would surely appear.
Within three days, news of a Saint Alchemist in Astral Academy spread internally. Alchemists came seeking advice—even the academy's dean, a fellow Saint Alchemist, discussed alchemy with Leon.
In this era, Astral Academy had only one dean, newly advanced to Saint Alchemist. The academy had yet to rise to prominence; though it boasted countless alchemists, its status was far from the legendary alchemical sanctuary it would one day become.