Chapter 589: Action
“S-Sir, we should really run for it! That’s an ancient magical beast, nearly Sky Rank...” Hubert’s voice trembled. Although the meager knowledge he’d inherited from the Highland Orcs wasn’t enough for him to know whether Oracis was round or flat...
But the instinct buried deep in his blood made every hair on Hubert’s body stand on end. He didn’t need to know what this creature was, or how powerful it was...
That mixed stench of sulfur and blood—just the mere whiff of it was like a lethal poison to someone with both dragon and orc blood. The moment it spread, Hubert’s soul nearly fled his body. If not for Leon’s long-standing reputation, this cowardly dragonblood orc would’ve bolted the instant he caught the scent...
Oracis, the offspring of Ashen Serpent and Abyssal Demon, one of the seventy-two Demon Gods, mount of Moradin, the Blood King. It’s no exaggeration to say that, in any era, Oracis stands at the very pinnacle of Northend’s world.
Faced with such a terrifying beast that stood atop Northend’s world, it wasn’t just Hubert, a peak Ninth Rank Swordmaster, who was shaken—even Councilor Suville, Councilor Weiss, Reid Watson, and all those long addressed as 'Your Excellency' turned pale in an instant...
Too terrifying...
The overwhelming pressure from this apex creature was simply unbearable for mortals. Especially with that faint trace of transcendent aura mixed in, every single person felt utterly powerless to resist. Even these mid-rank and above Title Archmages, wielders of formidable magic, felt for the first time like helpless newborns before this monstrous beast...
“Impossible, impossible...” Councilor Suville’s face turned ashen. Staring at that blazing, massive form, the usual arrogance and coldness on this mid-rank Title Archmage’s face was replaced by undisguised terror and panic. “Wasn’t the last Oracis killed by the Long-Legged Emperor and the King of the Caucasus back in the Third Dynasty?”
“Damn it, something’s definitely gone wrong here...” Reid Watson’s voice was equally frantic.
"Archmage Merlin, look..." Compared to the others, Councilor Weiss was relatively calm—but only relatively. Even he, a Black Tower councilor, had beads of sweat trickling down his forehead.
"They’re right. The last Oracis really was killed in the Third Dynasty—by the Long-Legged Emperor and the King of the Caucasus working together..." Leon was certain of this. The battle where two great powers joined forces to exterminate the last Oracis and wipe out these ancient beasts had become legend in Northend. For tens of thousands of years, not a single Oracis had appeared in Northend’s world.
It wasn’t until millions of years later that mages at the peak of magical civilization personally captured Ashen Serpents and Abyssal Demons, artificially breeding the first Oracis—but that’s a story for the future...
"Then how is this possible?" Councilor Weiss’s expression froze, his gaze at Oracis filled with utter confusion...
"Because..." Suddenly, Cyrus Watson spoke up, his smile a bit bleak. "This world’s time is still before the Third Dynasty..."
"Huh?"
Cyrus Watson’s cryptic answer left everyone—except Leon and Felton—completely baffled.
What does it mean for time to still be before the Third Dynasty?
"Don’t you get it yet?" Felton’s voice came from the shade: "This is a world outside the river of time. Everything here is frozen in what’s called the Mythic Era..."
Felton spoke as he gestured to the forest around them: "See? Every plant and tree here is completely different from Northend. The animals here are ferocious, the plants gigantic. By comparison, Northend’s flora and fauna look like they haven’t even started to grow yet. Why do you think that is?"
"But..."
Councilor Weiss had barely started to speak when Felton waved him off. "You’re about to say all this is because of the plane’s unique environment, aren’t you?"
"Y-Yes, Archmage Felton."
"It seems the Black Tower’s research on the Golden Age has completely stalled over the years..." The Title Archmage from the Black Tower Sanctuary shook his head regretfully. "The Golden Age was the era of infinite possibilities—a time so perfect that the power limit of any world, Northend or otherwise, was far higher than in any era since. Think about it: the nine planes controlled by the Black Tower each have their own power ceilings. The weakest can’t even contain a Title Archmage; those mages can’t even cross the planar path. If, by chance, one forces their way in, the plane’s rules collapse, bringing catastrophic disaster..."
"The Golden Age wasn’t like that..." Felton spoke as if Oracis in the distance didn’t exist, his tone full of longing. "In that era, gods and demons walked the earth, countless powerful races flourished, and there were beings far stronger than Oracis—who knows how many. Just imagine: if today’s Northend world were like that, what would it be?"
"Then..." Weiss’s face went pale. He didn’t even need to think about it—never mind gods and demons walking the earth, just those creatures stronger than Oracis would be enough to destroy Northend a hundred times over...
(Irrelevant system message skipped.)
"That’s why, for the past thousand years, there’s been a theory in the Sanctuary: after the Golden Age, Northend must have gone through a massive upheaval. That upheaval changed the world’s rules and led to everything we see now. Unfortunately, so little evidence remains from that era that all we can do is guess. Most believe it’s linked to the disaster that buried the gods and demons..."
"But what does that have to do with Oracis...?"
"Don’t you get it yet? Look at this forest—the plants, the animals—they only existed in the Golden Age. Only an era with a power ceiling far beyond today could give birth to such miracles of life. And think about the Hydra we encountered before—does that seem like something a normal plane should have? In plain terms, we’re in an ancient plane where time is still frozen in the Golden Age. Oracis is just the beginning; we could run into creatures even stronger than it..."
"My god..." As Felton finished speaking, the forest fell silent. No one could quite process it—a primordial plane frozen in the Golden Age, a place where any terrifying creature from that era could appear.
Maybe... maybe even ancient gods and demons!
This was already beyond anyone’s wildest imagination...
"What do we do now? What are we supposed to do..." Councilor Suville was utterly panicked. In Northend, he was a force to be reckoned with, but here—in a plane frozen in the Golden Age—he was barely any stronger than a regular person...
A Level 38 Hydra, an Oracis nearly Sky Rank—for Suville, these were like living myths...
Especially Oracis, looming so close...
That was a creature infinitely close to Sky Rank...
What does ‘infinitely close to Sky Rank’ even mean?
Basically, it’s like having Joey or Heron right here...
A being of that level—just standing there—was enough to drive Suville insane with fear...
"Go!" Leon suddenly spoke up—the only solution he could think of.
Even with top-tier powerhouses like Felton and Cyrus, plus Reina the Frost Dragon, the Alchemy Golem, and Leon himself wielding the Arcane Wheel and Dragon Staff, they had the strength of nearly five Level 38+ experts. But against an Oracis nearly at Sky Rank, it still wasn’t enough.
There was no other way...
Once you reach Oracis’s level, you possess a trace of transcendent power—just like Joey and Heron. That’s the dividing line between peak and ordinary power. In the face of the transcendent, ordinary strength is laughable. Even ten Leons together couldn’t last ten seconds against Joey. That’s the terror of transcendent power.
Transcendent means surpassing the ordinary, reigning above the world!
Thankfully...
The only fortunate thing was that the transcendent beast they’d encountered was Oracis, the offspring of Ashen Serpent and Abyssal Demon...
This was their one and only chance...
But not everyone knew about this chance...
"Are you crazy, Leon Merlin? Stop giving orders! This isn’t your Merlin Family’s Inferno Fortress, and it’s not your tiny Seaview City either! Open your eyes—this is Oracis! Its power is a hundred times scarier than you think. With just a handful of us, you want to charge? Charge in and be its dinner?"
Take Suville, for example...
The mid-rank archmage, now terrified out of his wits, had lost all his former composure. When Leon suggested a charge, Suville nearly jumped up, pointing at Leon from a distance—his hand trembling with fear and rage...