When traversing planes, they used the blood of Bloodbone Beasts to construct a Blood River, propelled forward by countless Bloodbone Beast souls. The effect was almost identical to the planar pathways built by Northend World mages.
This was especially true when heading underground, into a world where dark power was thick. By taking advantage of the subterranean currents, there was no need to steer—the path naturally led to the closest point to the Netherworld, letting them drift along effortlessly.
The Blood River kept surging ahead, and Leon’s incantation continued. Strictly speaking, he didn’t need to control it with a spell, but Leon preferred caution—he wasn’t about to take any chances.
After more than ten minutes, a faint light appeared ahead, like a single white firefly drifting on the surface of the Blood River. As they drew closer, that glimmer grew piercingly bright, ripping through the surrounding darkness.
The lone boat sped toward the cluster of light. In an instant, all the darkness vanished—the sky ahead blazed with brightness, and everything around them became dazzling.
Leon blinked, and the blinding light gradually dimmed. A vast, colossal world unfolded before his eyes—they were suspended in midair, plummeting toward the ground.
With a subtle flicker of magic, Leon hovered in midair. The lone boat, carved from dark ebony, was swiftly stowed away.
The world that greeted him looked bizarre. The space was dim, with no sun—yet light appeared from nowhere in this realm. Standing midair, Leon cast Eagle Eye to peer into the distance, and could even see the land curving upward, an unmistakable arc.
He turned and looked around—every direction was the same. Using Eagle Eye with rune patterns, he could make out the terrain dozens of kilometers away, and everywhere, the land curved upward. It was as if he stood at the bottom of a massive bowl, and no matter where he looked, the earth rose up all around him.
Moreover, this curvature kept rising as the distance grew, amplifying everything seen through his gaze. In Lin Yun’s eyes, countless runes of law slowly assembled into the shadow of a wheel, and in an instant, he glimpsed a blurred phantom—the earth here was arched, and its curve was completely opposite to that of planets in the endless void…
Such a sight could only be directly perceived by someone with Lin Yun’s unique abilities, or at the very least, by those at the eighth or ninth tier of the Heaven Rank. Others, who specialized in research, might be able to deduce it through data and simulations.
The entire underground world was like an impossibly vast balloon, and all living things existed on the inner surface of that balloon, with gravity pulling everything toward the inside surface.
The underground world spanned more than thirty-eight thousand kilometers in diameter—a figure that bored mages of the future would measure with obsessive precision. In other words, if you flew straight up from any point, after about thirty-eight thousand kilometers, you’d land on the opposite side of this subterranean world.
Unfortunately, the core of this massive spherical world was a place where gravity, force, and magic were all chaotic. Anyone standing at the center would be torn in every direction by the world’s power.
Your head might be wrenched upward, your feet downward, your arms ripped to the sides. An ordinary person appearing there would be shredded to pieces in an instant, their remains scattered across the entire subterranean realm.
In theory, the force wasn’t all that strong; any Heaven Rank mage could pass through, flying straight up and piercing to the other side. For a Heaven Rank powerhouse, especially with the aid of magical artifacts, tens of thousands of kilometers were hardly a problem.
But the region near the core, vast as it was, had long since become a chaotic zone of destruction—magic, elements, and space all torn asunder. Even seventh- or eighth-tier Heaven Rank experts wouldn’t dare approach. That’s why, looking up from here, all you saw was a hazy gray sky; don’t even think about glimpsing another stretch of land above your head.
A diameter of thirty-eight thousand kilometers made this underground world staggeringly vast, and with its nearly independent and complete set of laws—akin to those of Northend—it was home to countless attached planes as well.
Many planar paths of the future would be discovered here, making the subterranean world even more immense.
He took out the map he'd acquired earlier and checked their bearings. The map was marked with several clear directional features—the very top was bordered by a coastline shaped like the tip of a leaf. Lin Yun turned half a circle to the right and, sure enough, a few hundred kilometers away lay the ocean. Thanks to the upward curvature of the land, floating in midair allowed him to see it clearly; from a distance, the edge of the sea really did resemble a leaf's tip.
Their current position was roughly at the center of the map, maybe just a little off—but even that 'little' meant a distance of nearly a thousand kilometers.
Lin Yun made a quick calculation, checked the records, and couldn't help but smile.
“Perfect. Our deviation has actually brought us closer to our destination. According to the notes, if we head east for a little over two thousand kilometers, we'll reach the spot where the cave goblins once appeared—and the red-skinned soul-suckers aren't far from there either.”
If those tribes were recorded as having appeared there, it meant their settlements couldn't be far. Given how rarely Heaven Rank individuals emerged among these two races, if they hadn't been wiped out, any migration would be limited—no more than a few thousand kilometers at most.
Especially since neither the cave goblins nor the red-skinned soul-suckers liked to migrate much. Every time they settled, it took a tremendous effort, so the odds of finding either tribe weren’t too slim.
He produced an airship, and with a subtle shift of magic around his body, Lin Yun transformed from an unremarkable, ordinary man into a dark mage shrouded in shadowy mist. In the subterranean world, such figures were called ‘Dark Casters’—a title that could apply to any race, though humans were especially rare here, considered an uncommon species among the underground folk…
Assuming the guise of a Dark Caster, Lin Yun brought Huber and Raina aboard the airship. After flying for a dozen or so kilometers, they spotted a winged, lizard-headed humanoid—a member of the underground world’s beastfolk, specifically the populous lizardfolk race.
This lizardfolk was about level forty, but upon glimpsing Lin Yun’s airship, and especially sensing that faint aura of power, it hastily descended, bowed its head, hunched over, and hovered quietly in midair, waiting for Lin Yun’s airship to pass.
Lin Yun’s airship hovered above the lizardfolk’s head, his voice drifting down from above—harsh and guttural, tinged with an eerie, sinister undertone.
The lizardfolk below, hearing these words, grew even more terrified. He dropped to his knees in midair, too afraid to even glance upward.
“Great Dragonkin, what are your orders?”
The lizardfolk spoke the common tongue of the underground world—a language not so different from that of Northend, though its pitch was odd, carrying a uniquely shadowy flavor.
Lin Yun, however, spoke in the purest Nether tongue—more precisely, Nether Dragon language. There were subtle differences between the two, and in the era of the Nether Dynasty, only the five-colored dragons could speak it. It was forbidden for anyone else.
Later mages who ventured into the subterranean world discovered that Nether Dragon language and legends of the five-colored dragons were still passed down here. Sadly, none had ever seen one—only their descendants remained, but even those were counted among the most powerful races below. Their unique physiology meant other races could understand Nether Dragon language but could never truly master it.
Thus, in the underground world, anyone who spoke Nether Dragon language was inevitably a formidable dragonkin. The lizardfolk could already feel the pressure of powerful bloodlines—three auras aboard the airship: one beastfolk, one dragonkin, and the last, whose bloodline was undetectable yet whose presence was overwhelming. Even sensing their aura felt like dying once over…
The lizardfolk trembled, head bowed and full of regret. Why fly so high? Just his luck to run into three terrifyingly powerful beings. If they happened to be in a bad mood, or simply took a dislike to him, no one would dare protest if he disappeared…
While the lizardfolk worried for his life, Lin Yun remained motionless for a long while.
Hidden in the dark mist, Lin Yun frowned. He’d only meant to pose as a dragonkin to make things easier in the underground world, but it turned out the spell structure for Nether Dragon language was problematic. On his first attempt, he could only mimic a few simple phrases—nothing like the complex dialogue of a true five-colored dragon.
After fiddling with the spell for a moment—wasting a dozen seconds or so—Lin Yun had nearly frightened the trembling lizardfolk to death below.
Pureblood dragons were a rare sight in the underground world—almost unheard of. Most dragon bloodlines here were mixed; Huber could be classified as a hybrid dragon descendant, but Raina was a true Frost Dragon, and with her bloodline’s recent elevation, she was now every bit the equal of a five-colored dragon.
To encounter a powerful hybrid dragon descendant, a pureblood dragon, and a being fluent in Nether Dragon language—all at once—would terrify any lizardfolk, especially one who’d barely reached level forty and hadn’t even become a true transcendent creature. Not dying of fright was a feat of courage.
After a full three minutes, Lin Yun’s guttural voice, as if drifting from the distant darkness, echoed down once more.
“Where are the nearest cave goblin and red-skinned soul-sucker tribes?”
Instantly, the lizardfolk let out a faint sigh of relief.
A great and merciful presence, truly—I’m lucky it’s just a descendant of a Destruction Black Dragon. Fortunately, they don’t care about lizardfolk; otherwise, I’d probably have been eaten already.
Those damned red-skinned soul-suckers—after all these years of being devoured, they’re still not extinct. Lucky creatures. But why would such a powerful being be seeking cave goblins? Planning to have those filthy things build a nest?
A flurry of thoughts flashed through the lizardfolk’s mind, but he didn’t hesitate to point out a direction.
“Great Dragonkin, head in this direction for about eighteen hundred kilometers and you’ll find a large cave goblin tribe. There’s a range of tall, barren mountains there. Just three hundred kilometers beyond that tribe is a red-skinned soul-sucker settlement. Over a hundred years ago, I passed by and saw it with my own eyes.”
As soon as the lizardfolk finished speaking, a vial dropped from above, landing before him. Inside was a single drop of blood—pure dragon blood. For a lizardfolk, it was the most precious thing imaginable. By merging with that drop, he’d gain a trace of dragon bloodline, however faint, and proof that he’d once been favored by a dragon.
Greedy and stunned, the lizardfolk snatched up the vial, his fear vanishing completely.
“Great one, please allow humble Darli to guide your way.”
With the journey underway again, a new member joined the group: Darli, a lizardfolk wanderer. He’d reached level forty more than two centuries ago, but was always one step short of becoming a true transcendent being, and so he’d roamed the world searching for his chance.
By some stroke of fate, that chance had come so easily—a drop of pureblood dragon’s fresh blood, complete with its bloodline sigil. That drop would be his best opportunity to ascend to the Heaven Rank.
Darli led the way ahead, refusing to board the airship no matter what. He’d rather burn through his magic power flying than set foot on it…
“Damn it, Huber, this is all your fault. If you hadn’t said that lizardfolk looked tasty, that cowardly idiot never would’ve refused to get on the airship. Now look—we have to slow down and trail after this slowpoke lizardfolk…”
Anderson, seizing the moment, began taunting Huber, keeping it up for a good ten minutes without stopping. This time, the middle face didn’t care either; Huber just sat off to the side, face dark, gnawing savagely on a roast beast leg as if harboring some deep grudge.
With the Gilded Rose’s influence growing ever greater, Huber’s status as Lin Yun’s chief enforcer kept rising too. He could eat whatever he wanted—not just Northend’s magical beasts, but even exotic monsters from other planes. If Huber wanted it, Falro was happy to spend his surplus violet gold coins, and Lin Yun cared even less.
Huber’s appetite had grown picky—he wouldn’t touch humans or beastfolk, and the undead didn’t even tempt him. But anything else could be roasted and eaten. The first time he saw a lizardfolk, he just thought it was a slightly odd lizard and figured a taste test wouldn’t hurt…
But one careless remark from Huber nearly scared Darli to death. Now, sweating and burning magic to keep flying, Darli refused to get anywhere near him—being eaten was a fate far worse than being killed.
They’d flown for more than a thousand kilometers, but before they could reach their destination, someone appeared ahead to block their path.
A flock of strange birds drifted in midair, each with four wings, a snapping turtle’s head, and not a feather in sight. Every bird carried an elf on its back.
The elves’ faces were frighteningly pale, as if drained of all color. Their eyes and hair were blood red, and faint blood-colored magical runes marked their skin—some on their cheeks, some on their arms.
Lin Yun stepped out of the airship’s cabin and, upon seeing the elves, his brows furrowed sharply.
Blood elves in the underground world were undoubtedly among the strongest races, rivaling the dragonkin. Individually, a blood elf might not match a pureblood dragon, but their numbers far surpassed those of the dragons.
No one could say for sure how these blood elves came to be. Even after tens of thousands of years, the mages who studied them never reached a definitive conclusion.
Two theories were most famous. The first claimed blood elves were born in the distant age of gods and demons. During the great war, the barrier between Northend and the underground world was shattered—a feat that was not so difficult, or perhaps all too easy.
In the weakest places, the barriers broke, and as the gods and demons fell, their blood flooded into the underground world. That blood became the cradle for the first blood elves, who were nurtured in its warmth.
But this theory faced rebuttal: Northend had never seen the blood elf race, and the blood spilled on its surface far exceeded what little seeped into the underground.
The other theory posited that blood elves were once natural or forest elves who, after disaster struck Northend, accidentally stumbled into the underground world. These types of elves were adapted to sunlit realms—whether natural, forest, or even moonlight elves, none could survive the underground’s harsh environment.