Chapter 1424
Anyone who could pose a threat to the Sanctum of Light, or jeopardize its interests in the Leviathan Realm, would be exiled...
After a brief deduction, Leon concluded this was the most likely scenario. The fanatics of the Sanctum of Light—nothing they do would surprise him.
When the Undead Plane invades, those zealots will surely intervene. But at the same time, heretics of Northend World must also be purged...
Clearly, I've long since made it onto the Sanctum of Light’s blacklist of heretics—and my ranking isn’t low, either.
Leon scowled, surveying his surroundings. He was badly wounded, his extraordinary power still unrecovered—his strength had plummeted by dozens of times. Now, even Hubert and Reina were out of contact; he didn’t even know if the two had fallen from the Maze into the Leviathan Realm.
His recovery had slowed again. Though the connection between the natural semi-planes remained, the shock of exile had disrupted it; for now, entering a semi-plane was impossible.
To recover quickly, he’d need to re-brew his potions, accelerating his healing—at least enough to erase the lingering effects of exile. Without doing so, any future attempt to cross planes or realms risked getting lost again.
He soared into the air, gazing at the floating islands above. Some were only a dozen meters wide; others spanned four or five kilometers. They drifted like clouds, orbiting the largest island at the center.
Every floating island within twenty or thirty kilometers revolved around that central island—the only one not suspended in midair.
On the ground stood a colossal tree, twisted as if spun into existence. Its trunk looked like tattered cloth, colored by the ages. If not for its vibrant green, Leon might have thought it was dead.
At the treetop, five hundred meters high, branches splayed out like giant hands, supporting an island at least ten kilometers wide. The island teemed with buildings, and at its center stood a Mage Tower, active and shielding the island.
Leon circled the island and immediately sensed the anti-flight array in the air. Before, with his extraordinary power, he could have ignored it. But now, deprived of that power, resisting the array drained his mana.
Frowning, Leon landed. The aftereffects of exile lingered, even his semi-plane's mana transfer was disrupted. Wasting mana now was a bad idea.
Beneath the floating island, a city encircled the great tree. After a moment's thought, Leon headed toward it.
To speed up his recovery, the best way was to borrow the alchemy lab on the floating island.
At the city gate, two young magisters were collecting the entry tax. A third-level magister handed over a level-30 magic crystal—still not enough. Only after giving two such crystals was he allowed in.
"Hey, you—yes, you. It’s your turn. Two level-30 magic crystals for the entry tax. The brave Lowry Family guards this land; if you want in, pay the tax. It all goes to the warriors fighting at the front..."
Sensing Leon's aura as a powerful titled magister, the gate guards said nothing rude—but insisted he pay the tax.
Leon frowned, ignoring these petty characters. His power had crashed, Hubert and Reina were missing, and the aftereffects of exile persisted. Using the alchemy lab to make potions was urgent—he had no time for distractions, and keeping a low profile was best.