Chapter 1460
But for the Nightmare Leotail, these stretches of time are utterly negligible. They have no concept of time passing—in the Realm of Nightmares, they are immortal. As long as their souls aren’t annihilated, they can never be truly killed.
This place is nothing but a dream of the Lord of Nightmares—a fragment of memory from the age of God-Demons. These memories are trapped in endless cycles, looping and replaying over and over again.
No matter how brief a God-Demon’s memory, it still spans centuries. A cycle repeating every few hundred years—what are the odds of stumbling right into it? Leon couldn’t believe his luck was that good.
None of the others ever ran into it, but he just happened to catch the start of this battle. Even if his luck was rotten, it couldn’t possibly be this bad.
After thinking it over, Leon still felt something was off, but couldn’t pinpoint the problem. In the end, he chalked it up to bad luck—or maybe, the fact that this was the Lord of Nightmares’ dream. Someone else must’ve entered before, causing a strange shift.
Once he realized he couldn’t waste any more time, Leon suddenly flew toward the depths of the Nightmare Sea. The battle was still far from shattering the sea itself—this was only the beginning, and the best chance to act. If he waited, and the fighting got worse, there’d be no hope of breaking through.
The little fatty trembled in terror, desperate to run. But here, without Leon’s protection—and having lost his tail—he’d be torn apart in three seconds flat. No matter how scared he was, jumping off Leon’s shoulder meant certain death.
Sticking with Leon might mean dying a little later...
After Leon had flown over a thousand kilometers into the interior, the elements grew increasingly chaotic. The elemental turbulence here rivaled the heart of an Elemental Tempest—maybe even stronger. It was as if a storm that once spanned a hundred kilometers was expanding, now covering five or six hundred kilometers in all directions.
The wider the Elemental Tempest spreads, the stronger it grows. Here, even a Sky Mage, Seventh Rank, would burn through all their mana in ten seconds. At most, half an hour, and they'd be drained to death.
This is the terrifying part of the Elemental Tempest—raw, unfiltered elemental power. No spells, no incantations, no tricks. If you can't endure, you'll be ripped apart, soul and all. If you can, it's pure mana against mana, no shortcuts.
The power inside an Elemental Tempest is endless. No matter how strong a mage is, or how deep their reserves, eventually they run dry. And when that happens, there's only one ending: shredded to pieces.
It doesn't matter if you're Seventh Rank or Ninth Rank—no difference at all.
But no matter how fierce the Elemental Tempest, the only thing that can survive it untouched is the Fourfold Elemental King. This pure elemental power, no matter how intense, can't harm the Fourfold Elemental King.
That's the only exception. For everyone else, there's only one way to face the Elemental Tempest: brute force.
Elemental Avatar—this ability will someday be known as the must-have spell for all mages, and for good reason. When you master even the simplest Fire Elemental Avatar, this rankless spell evolves into a hidden limit spell: the Flame Elemental King Avatar.
Master all four Elemental Avatars, then grasp the Fourfold Elemental Law. Build your foundation on these laws, and only then can you unleash the Fourfold Elemental King Avatar.
This is the strongest form among all Avatar spells. Many rare materials exist only inside those colossal tempests in the Void—not even the Elemental Plane produces them. To enter the Elemental Tempest, the Fourfold Elemental King Avatar is your first requirement.
Now, when Leon casts the Fourfold Elemental King Avatar, the drain is still immense—but not like before, when he'd run out of mana in three seconds flat. Now, he can last ten minutes before needing to recharge, and barely hang on.
Flying another thousand kilometers forward, the land was now a zone as chaotic as any Elemental Tempest. Up and down had lost all meaning, gravity twisted and warped—sometimes crushing, sometimes reversed. If this world’s gravity wasn’t already several times stronger than Northend World’s, Leon would’ve lost his sense of direction entirely.
"Sir, please, I’m begging you—don’t go any further! We’ll die, really die! The Chieftain said there are places you simply can’t approach. Whoever does, dies. Even the Chieftain would die. If we get any closer... we’re finished!"
The little fatty screamed at the top of his lungs, his round, smiling face twisted in terror.
Leon frowned and slapped the little fatty, twisting his body into a weird shape. When Leon let go, he snapped back to normal—except the screaming started all over again.
"Shut up! If you keep shrieking and draw something’s attention, we’re both dead."
Leon’s face was dark. He was starting to regret bringing the little fatty along. Sure, he was a native and knew plenty about this place, but he was so timid—like a kid who’d never left home. He knew a lot, but had never actually experienced any of it.
His first trip out and he nearly got killed, lost his tail, and was scared half to death. Only now did he realize the world outside was nothing like the stories.
Leon barked at him, and the little fatty finally quieted down. He wasn’t stupid—he realized sticking close might mean survival. If he kept screaming and caught the attention of some terrifying powerhouse, even a stray blast would be enough to finish them off...
Nightmare Leotails have serious power in the Realm of Nightmares—when a fight starts, they can match their opponent’s level, at least. But there’s a ceiling. No matter how strong, there are limits. Against a Level Forty-Nine powerhouse, they might hit Level Fifty, but it’s just a number; they’ll never gain the true abilities of that rank.
Like the two battling in the heart of the Nightmare Sea right now—even a Leotail Overlord would get wiped out. Powerhouses at that level can’t be handled by special abilities alone.
Pushing forward, the shockwaves from the battle grew fiercer. Leon could feel his Mana Harness fluctuating more and more often, in increasingly bizarre ways.
Sometimes, the Mana Harness would suddenly surge to ten times its normal power, far beyond Leon’s current rank. The Harness itself was one of the strongest arcane sigils—like countless components woven together into a single, special rune. At its core, it was more artifact than rune.
Ordinary Arcane Sigils—like Timeweaver’s Hand or Mana Spring—are standalone, each focused on one ability. But the Mana Harness is different: it’s a modular sigil, able to combine countless powers. Its true strength is in calculation—vast, relentless computation, stronger than any mere combination of sigils.
Now, the Mana Harness would suddenly multiply in strength, sometimes more than tenfold. The surges lasted longer too—up from a split second to three or four seconds. Leon had no idea why.
Nothing like this was ever recorded. Not even anything similar...
Leon suddenly stopped, hesitating. This was totally out of control—far too strange. The Mana Harness was his foundation; if something went wrong, it’d be a disaster.
But after running the calculations, he realized there was still a chance to slip past the edge of the battlefield. The shockwaves were getting worse, but he hadn’t strayed from the path set by the rules. In ten minutes, the shockwaves would swallow the path completely, making passage impossible.
Gritting his teeth, Leon kept flying. Every few minutes, he swallowed a bottle of Mana Elixir to keep his mana up. The elemental chaos was even worse here—even with the Fourfold Elemental King Avatar, the raging elements could still pierce ten meters into his defenses.
But that was nothing. No matter how wild the elements outside, they couldn’t hurt him—as long as they were pure. The closer he got to the battlefield, though, the shockwaves brought all kinds of forces, and those weren’t pure elementals anymore.
The world ahead seemed to be floating in a bizarre storm—a blend of sandstorm and rainstorm, endless dust and chaotic drops battering everything. Two kinds of storms, never meant to mix, now fused together. Mana sensing was useless; only the Mana Harness kept working.
After flying another thousand kilometers, it was like crossing a border—the terrible storm fell behind, forming a wall of wind and sand.
He didn’t even have time to process the sudden change before plummeting from the sky toward the sea. The pressure was crushing, like a mountain pressing down on his soul. Leon couldn’t stay aloft, forced downward by that terrifying force.
Just before hitting the sea, Leon barely managed to resist the pressure. The little fatty was squashed into a green, jelly-like pancake on Leon’s shoulder, his chubby face totally deformed.