Chapter 1348
"There's really no skill here. This thing—neither human nor ghost—does it only have this much ability? How boring. If I could tear open her soul, that would be interesting. A fusion of demon, undead, and human... bizarre, but at least it's a little intriguing. Hm, a mutt..."
Leon was losing interest. When he first speculated, he instinctively compared her to beings from his memory, so he had been cautious.
After all, in my memory, whether it was a mentalist or a bloodline transplant warlock, their strength couldn't be measured by rank. If you weren't careful, you'd end up dead.
But what I saw was a bloodline transplant so crude it was painful to look at. The success rate was abysmally low, and the power was weak—nothing like those madmen in my memories...
A Sky Rank Level 3 bloodline transplant warlock, using a low-tier demon's bloodline—Leon didn't even bother wasting time. He'd just kill her and let Lord Shaun tear open her soul for answers.
A horde of ghosts surged toward Leon, blotting out the sky. Amy's body flickered in and out of the mist, her soul power rampaging within it, driving the ghostly tide straight at Leon.
Leon stood perfectly still, not moving an inch—he just raised a shield. The terrifying wave of ghosts, their screams and howls, crashed into him with a horrifying impact.
Ghosts—especially these Screamers, all at least Level 20—would be instantly suppressed by a Sky Rank mage's aura if alone. But in such numbers, they could actually overwhelm a powerhouse. Their auras fused, and their soul-wailing impact combined, like a stream turning into a tidal wave—the difference in power was on a whole other level.
The soul-wailing crashed against Leon's Fusion Shield, sparking leaping Rule Runes—but that was all it could manage...
Leon didn't spare a glance for the Screamers crashing over him like a tidal wave. Behind him, the three Patriarchs Lord Shaun had just saved didn't hesitate—they turned and ran, vanishing in an instant.
Lord Shaun smirked at the three Patriarchs who disappeared into the mist.
"Idiots. The place is sealed by soul power—this isn't normal space. If you don't kill that mutt, you won't escape. Morons..."
With a sneer, Lord Shaun perched on Leon's shoulder, completely unconcerned. As a soul entity who manipulates spirits—and now a transcendent being free from relic form—why would he fear a bunch of Screamers? What a joke...
"Archmage Leon Merlin, die, die! Be drowned by endless ghosts! Tear his soul apart—tear him apart!"
Amy hovered in midair, radiating soul power. More and more ghostly beings were summoned—this was the strength her bloodline bestowed.
Ghosts kept appearing. Leon sighed softly, his body slowly rising, flying into the mist to meet the ghostly tide head-on.
When the crest of the ghostly wave crashed within a hundred meters of Leon, the foremost Screamers suddenly howled in terror, as if they'd met their worst nightmare, scrambling to flee.
In an instant, the terrifying tide of Screamers turned chaotic—their auras and powers could no longer unify.
The Screamers at the front scattered in panic, like a swarm of bees suddenly dispersing—none could get within a hundred meters of Leon.
Lord Shaun let out a twisted laugh, gazing at the dense swarm of Screamers.
"A bunch of brainless fools. These low-grade undead dare approach Merlin? Don't they know undead swarm tactics are useless against Merlin? Whatever—this bloodline-muddled mutt clearly hasn't figured that out..."
The power of Bane of the Undead had long since stopped working on Leon. Any undead that got close would collapse in terror, let alone fight.
The most terrifying power of the undead meant nothing to Leon. Even tens of millions of low-grade undead couldn't harm him. If millions of Screamers attacked from range with a combined soul-wail, maybe they'd have some effect. But for a direct assault, they were useless...
Amy, hidden in the mist, kept summoning Screamers. Suddenly, she saw Leon casually flying through the ghostly tide toward her. She was stunned—the Screamers couldn't be controlled at all. If they got close to Leon, they'd flee in a frenzy. It was their instinct; no one could change it.
Expecting a horde of brainless undead to suppress their instincts was impossible. They had no concept of fear, but under the power of Bane of the Undead, that instinctive terror became even more intense...
No matter what Amy tried, nothing could change the situation. Her bloodline's strongest combat power was summoning ghosts—she could keep summoning, up to hundreds of thousands to fight for her.
If it were an ordinary Sky Rank Level 3 or 4 mage, surrounded by so many Screamers, unless they were a Holy Light Envoy, their soul would be torn to pieces.
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Leon flew toward the densest cluster of ghosts. With the soul waves in such chaos, finding Amy's true body wasn't easy. But following the direction where the most Screamers appeared—where the newly summoned ones gathered—was surely where Amy herself was.
As long as Leon found Amy's true body, the battle would be over.
Amy was hidden deep within the endless tide of ghosts, still summoning more, but her face grew more desperate by the second. No matter how many Screamers she called, it was useless. Numbers didn't matter anymore. Watching Leon stroll through the ghostly tide as if it were nothing, Amy was utterly hopeless.
This couldn't go on. Archmage Leon Merlin had to die today. He already knew the Rose Circle was targeting him, and he even knew about the Shadow Tower. If he kept investigating, he'd find their headquarters—and then both the Rose Circle and the Shadow Tower would be exposed, no matter what happened.
My sisters have already fallen, the Shadow Tower's operations are struggling, and now the Rose Circle is exposed again. Headquarters might be exposed too, and then we'd be in real trouble.
No matter the cost, Archmage Leon Merlin must die here. Only his death can end all of this...
Even if I die, I'll drag Archmage Leon Merlin to hell with me!
"Archmage Leon Merlin, you forced me! You'll regret this—you'll regret it for tens of thousands of years in hell, suffering every torment. I'll be there with you, watching as you're tortured endlessly..."
Suddenly, an evil aura surged. The mist within three kilometers vanished. From the ground, a massive black-gray altar—five hundred meters wide—seemed to erupt. The inverted hexagram altar had strange statues kneeling at each corner, mouths open to the sky, with blue flames burning silently.
The area for thousands of meters seemed to become an independent space. The sky turned black-gray, everything around was black-gray, and a sense of doom filled this strange space.
Seeing the altar, Leon's expression changed.
Soul Altar—a forbidden altar of soul sacrifice, used to summon the physical incarnation of a Demon Lord. Even without a specific target, this altar would attract powerful demons from the Infernal Realms like flies to rotting meat. Only the strongest would survive the summoning.
The statues on the altar weren't just statues—they were real creatures, transformed into candles by evil magic. Like beacons in the dark, they guided the summoned demons to the altar.
The altar itself was made from ground bones and rare materials. From within, faint screams and wails echoed—the number of sealed souls and vengeful spirits was staggering.
Any demon summoned by this altar would be a top Demon Lord, if not a Demon Overlord.
Amy knelt at the center of the altar, her body fractured like shattered porcelain. Blood gushed from her, flowing along the altar's runes, feeding the living altar as it devoured the potent blood.
A mist seemed to hang around the altar. Leon watched calmly, knowing there was no way to stop it now. That's the nature of a Soul Altar—once it's activated, it's almost impossible to interrupt.
All you could see was a projection—or rather, a shell. The true Soul Altar was pure soul power at work. Now, unless a top-tier Sky Rank soul mage intervened, no one could stop Amy's summoning.
Around the altar, the endless Screamers were drawn in, shrieking as they were torn apart midair. Their fragments became pure soul power, fueling the Soul Altar.
Amy had become a blood-soaked ruin, her body drying out and shattering like porcelain—until only a blurred phantom remained, kneeling there.
"Merlin, this is bad. That lunatic sacrificed herself! Her soul may not be much, but in Hell, it's rare enough to attract powerful Demon Lords. Add in all those Screamers as fuel—this is trouble. Where's the old man? Get him here, quick..."
If all else fails, call the Astral Academy Headmaster—have him bring a dozen or more peak Sky Rank powerhouses. This time, a demon's true body is appearing...
Leon frowned and shook his head.
"It's too late—no way to stop it now. Once this demon's true body appears, every powerhouse in Neverwinter City will sense it instantly. Then it's out of our hands. Summoning a demon's true body so close to Neverwinter City... they've brought on real trouble."
Leon brought out the Spellbook of Ages, Arcane Wheel, Death Tome, and Doombringer Staff—all his magical relics. A shimmer flashed across his skin, runes covered his body, and a colored sigil appeared on his brow.
A bronze balance appeared beneath his feet, and behind him, the avatar of a purple dragon manifested.
All his power was unleashed at once. Behind him, a phantom of a demi-plane began to emerge, and even some elemental spirit king avatars he couldn't normally use were released.
Amy's soul phantom knelt on the altar, shrieking a mad curse.
"Archmage Leon Merlin, I'll be waiting for you in hell... waiting for you..."
With a scream, Amy's soul vanished from the altar. In the center, a black-gray vortex appeared, rapidly expanding to over three hundred meters wide. A three-fingered claw reached out from within.
"Ah, what a delightful aroma—the scent of sweet souls. It's intoxicating. This world must have many delicious souls. Wonderful! For such a treat, I'll graciously come in person..."
Wild laughter erupted from the depths of the swirling vortex, a sound so monstrous that the very fabric of space trembled in dread. With a casual ripple of its claws, the air split open with jagged rifts, and the mana nearby was instantly poisoned by a malignant, doom-laden force.
"Merlin, this is trouble—serious trouble. That’s a top-tier Demon Lord. I can’t handle him. He won’t care about my reputation... or my life this time..."
The claw that emerged from the vortex was nearly a hundred meters long, grotesque and imposing. Then, a nose appeared—black, wet, and twitching like a hunting hound’s, sniffing for prey. The Demon Lord’s monstrous head strained, ready to force its way through the dimensional barrier...
But just as the Demon Lord’s nose poked out, and only a sliver of its mouth became visible, its laughter was abruptly cut short. The monstrous head froze, halting its emergence.
That vast, black nose—easily over twenty meters high—twitched twice, as if sniffing for something hidden in the air. Suddenly, the Demon Lord seemed to sense danger; with a sharp hiss, its head snapped back into the vortex, and its claw vanished as well.
In the suffocating darkness of Hell, atop a mountain veiled by endless black clouds, a massive fortress loomed. A furious roar exploded from within, a sound so powerful it seemed to rend the world itself—the fortress's shroud of shadow shattered, and the sky split with thunderous, gaping wounds.
"Elemental Elf King! Damn it—it's that cursed Elemental Elf King again! Who is it? Who dares plot against me? Treacherous fools, conspiracies everywhere—someone’s greedy gaze covets my throne! I’ll make them taste hellfire and endless torment..."
The Demon Lord’s colossal form rose from its throne, unleashing a bellow of rage that shook the fortress walls.
Damn that bastard—last time I was summoned, it wasn’t even my true body, and I still sensed the Elemental Elf King. This time, they summoned my real form, and if not for my sensitive nose catching the faintest trace of the Elemental Elf King, I might have blundered straight into their trap.
Who’s the idiot trying to frame me? Such a clever scheme—who could have crafted it? It must be that damned yellow-eyed demon next door! His plot is to use the Elemental Elf King against me. I won’t let him succeed.
Yes, that soul—that damned soul is surely bait. Maybe those fools plotting against me will use it again to lure the Elemental Elf King...
A cunning glint flashed in the Demon Lord’s eyes, ablaze with blood-red fire. Suddenly inspired, it opened its jaws and spat out a soul, then blasted it with hellfire again and again. With a mighty slap, it flung the soul through the Summoning Gate, then smashed the gate to pieces with another blow.
"Fools! You dare plot against a true king? The cunning of royalty is beyond the reach of your pathetic, lowly minds!"
With the Summoning Gate shattered, the Demon Lord sealed the fortress, letting not a single trace of its aura escape...
On the other side, Leon stood frozen, his mind blank, staring at the soul that had been hurled from the Summoning Gate. Amy’s soul flickered, growing more translucent by the second, faint embers of fire clinging to her ethereal form. The Summoning Gate had been shattered by some monstrous blow, and the Soul Altar was reduced to nothing but dust and fragments...
"Merlin, what... what just happened? Did the demon really... throw the soul back?"
Lord Shaun’s mouth hung open. He stammered, unable to process the scene before him—his mind simply couldn’t keep up.
Greed, cunning, and treachery—these were the hallmarks of demons, especially Demon Lords, who always put profit above all else. Yet this Demon Lord had abandoned its prize, fled, and even destroyed the Summoning Gate. No one had ever witnessed such madness; no, not even in legend. To speak of it would be a joke—one only a fool, kicked in the head by a pig beast, would believe.
Even Leon found himself stunned, utterly unable to make sense of the chaos. For all his years and hard-won wisdom, he felt his pride crumble—there was simply no reason for what he’d seen, unless the Demon Lord had truly gone mad.