Adamantine and the Escape from the Mindscape Projection

Chapter 1476

Three days later, a young man who looked barely in his twenties came looking for Leon. Seeing this youth, who was only at Grandmaster strength, Leon's expression grew somewhat peculiar.

His appearance still vaguely resembled Agalon, but his hair was wild, his clothes gave off an indescribably odd smell, and his hands were stained purple from alchemical experiments. He couldn't have looked more eccentric if he tried.

"Merlin, you came too?"

Agalon seemed anxious, clearly still confused about what was happening here. Suddenly seeing Leon, he was caught off guard.

"Merlin, it's a trap—a damned trap! This is the Lord of Nightmares' realm. Someone lured me here, and I've even lost contact with my Semi-Plane Anchor. Why did you come too?"

Agalon looked anxious—how could he not be? The war between the Leviathan Realm and the Undead Plane was still raging, and the passage between them was growing ever more stable. Time was running out; there was simply no time to spare.

Now, seeing Leon appear suddenly, Agalon immediately understood that Leon had come looking for him. In this era, Leon hadn’t even been born yet, but here he was, already at Sky Rank Level Seven—this had to be his true self descending.

Leon grabbed Agalon and waved his hand dismissively.

"Teacher, don’t worry. I know someone lured you here, but this is a world shaped by your Mindscape Projection—your dream. As long as we get out, no matter how long we spend here, it’s just a dream. Every time the Mindscape shatters, it’s just another awakening."

Besides you, Alonzo and Dean Gandalf were also tricked into coming here. I know someone wants to stop us from setting up the Hexagram Formation, but I had no choice but to come as well.

This place is extremely dangerous. The Mindscape will eventually collapse, and when it does, everything inside will be destroyed. I have to hurry—ever since I entered this Mindscape, its time has begun to run out. At most, we have a hundred years before everything here shatters completely."

Hearing Leon's words, Agalon calmed down. Although he only had Grandmaster-level strength here, Leon's presence meant he must have a way out—he'd likely already escaped his own Mindscape before.

Agalon grew calm, quietly waiting for Leon to continue.

"Teacher, this is the deep world of the Realm of Nightmares. Everyone who enters gets trapped in their own Mindscape. Only by escaping your Mindscape can you avoid destruction.

In every Mindscape, there's something that doesn't belong—a foreign object. That object is the key to leaving. Think about the place most important to you, Teacher. Find the thing that doesn't belong here. Destroy it, and you can get out."

Agalon pondered for a moment, then led Leon toward his alchemy lab. The place reeked with odd smells, and the equipment was so crude it was almost laughable—most of it handmade, with precision that was best ignored.

Agalon cast a cleaning spell and swept the place thoroughly, then began searching the lab piece by piece. But after combing through it three times, he still couldn't find anything that didn't belong.

Leon frowned, not doubting Agalon's memory. This was the place Agalon remembered most vividly—every corner, every object, deeply imprinted in his mind. It couldn't be wrong.

Agalon was puzzled too. There was absolutely nothing here that didn't belong. In this era, he'd spent nearly all his time in this crude alchemy lab; everything in his life happened here. This place had accompanied him for over a century.

Suddenly, as he looked at the alchemical apparatus, Leon had an idea.

"Teacher, do you remember what alchemical experiment you were working on? Try to completely recreate the experiment, step by step, just like you did back then..."

Agalon's eyes lit up, instantly understanding what Leon meant.

"You mean, the thing that doesn't belong hasn't appeared yet? Or maybe it has, but it's not complete?"

Leon nodded. Escaping the Mindscape of the Realm of Nightmares was never that easy. He’d once spent ten years reading, going through every book in the desolate library, and only when he reached the very last volume did the object that didn’t belong finally appear—that’s the rule.

If you know the rule for finding the key, even if you open the last book ahead of time, there won’t be anything out of place inside.

So in this alchemy lab, there could be even more possibilities—who knows how many things might be created here.

Agalon didn’t hesitate. He recalled everything from back then and began recreating the alchemical experiment.

This experiment was just a simple verification of the Rutherfordian Formula, and at the end, it would yield a kind of composite magic alloy.

A simple experiment, but Agalon kept making mistakes—errors popped up everywhere. This was Agalon trying to relive the original process.

Watching Agalon work, Leon couldn’t help but feel a trace of admiration—not just for Agalon’s ability to perfectly recreate his old alchemical experiment, but for how even the mistakes were exactly as they had been.

Back then, with only Grandmaster strength and those crude alchemical tools—barely more than scrap metal—Agalon somehow managed to perform an experiment that only a true master could control.

Not every powerful mage is a great alchemist, but every great alchemist must be a powerful mage. That’s a universal truth.

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Many of an alchemist’s abilities depend on having the strength of a mage as a foundation. Without that, an alchemist’s power simply can’t grow—there’s never been an exception.

A Grandmaster can’t become a master craftsman; the foundation just isn’t there. It’s like when Leon knew so much, but without the strength of a mage, his alchemical skill could only go so far—there’s always a limit.

Agalon stumbled through the Rutherfordian Formula verification, time slipping by. But as the days passed, his alchemical experiment grew more perfect and smooth.

Three months later, the experiment finally succeeded. In the last flask, within the searing lava, the heat slowly faded, and a stone no bigger than a pinky nail formed in the molten liquid.

Seeing the stone, Agalon finally let a smile slip across his face.

"This is it. The Adamantine I produced back then was never this high in quality. With my strength at the time, plus these crude tools, it was impossible to create Adamantine of this caliber."