Chapter 873
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These past few days, Hubert is still fusing with that single drop of Primordial Venom Dragon heartblood, while the other fifty magi have been relentlessly devouring the dragon's flesh and blood.
Although their magical talent has undergone tremendous change from absorbing a trace of God-Demon soul fragment, their innate physical nature remains largely unchanged.
After all, these fifty were once merely at the mage level—Merlin Family's discarded outcasts—who, even if they spent their entire lives, would likely never break through to archmage.
It was a dual defect of body and spirit, but now, as they keep consuming the Primordial Venom Dragon's flesh, the fifty magi have become like ascetic swordsmen.
Each body is flushed red, faces engorged, as if a furnace is burning ceaselessly inside them.
The Primordial Venom Dragon flesh processed by Leon, fused with potion from the cauldron, transformed into crystal-like chunks. Once devoured, they instantly become scalding hot water, surging through every inch of their bodies with each meditation.
The surging magical fluctuations have turned into a storm raging across the camp, the elemental activity here now rivaling that of a volcano on the verge of eruption.
If Leon hadn't prepared ahead of time, setting an alchemical array to bind all the fluctuations deep within the camp, Storm Fortress would already have countless people aware of what was happening here.
With constant meditation, the ranks of these magi are rising rapidly; the elevation of their life essence passively boosts their level. After all, with Leon's endless supply, their mana reserves have already reached the current limit.
Within the Natural Semi-Plane, the dense mana has never imposed any restriction on these fifty magi.
In the camp, magi continually stand up—once their skin recovers from the flush, they silently walk to the cauldron, consume a chunk of processed Primordial Venom Dragon flesh, then, as mana riots and their skin seems ready to bleed, return to their spots to meditate again.
The Merlin Brothers are meditating like madmen, each time devouring the maximum amount of Primordial Venom Dragon flesh they can withstand before immediately returning to meditation, their power steadily climbing.
Days of relentless devouring—even Leon adds a drop of Primordial Venom Dragon blood to the cauldron every single day.
Among this group, the weakest is already an Eighth-Rank Archmage, while the strongest is on the verge of breaking through to Title Archmage.
Leon walks over slowly, instantly sensing the already hyperactive elemental forces frantically converging in one direction.
A magus at the peak of Ninth-Rank Archmage stands, face flushed, sweat soaking his clothes, mana rippling visibly around him, spreading in waves.
Yet the surrounding elemental forces are madly converging upon him—a vortex like a flaming dragon tornado slowly forms overhead, endless fire elements pouring in, engulfing him in flames.
A flicker of joy flashes across Leon's face.
"Finally, someone is about to break through to Title Archmage..."
After all the scheming, from the moment Leon took in these fifty mere mages, he tried every method to boost their strength.
Later, when their talent changed, Leon became even more determined to train them into his key team.
He even considered giving each of them a bottle of Baptism Elixir, but the scarcity of ingredients kept the idea on hold.
As their power kept growing—from mage to archmage, then to magus—the Baptism Elixir became useless.
At that point, some had hope of breaking through to Title Archmage, but not all, and it might've taken ages.
Now, things are different. With the first Title Archmage about to emerge, even Leon can't help but feel excited.
After all, these fifty are the true backbone.
My own strength is formidable—the magus runes are the strongest magus rune arrays, and my core meditation laws number three. Even at the peak of Northrend's future, this setup would be unmatched.
But in the end, it's just one person. No matter how strong, one person can represent a force, but looking at the tens of thousands of years ahead, those who manage it all have suffered countless hardships—and you can count them on one hand.
If war breaks out, having your own core team makes things much easier, and so many problems become manageable when you have your own people.
Reina fused with the Empty Dragon Core of the Primordial Venom Dragon, and after her life tier advanced, barring any surprises, she'll reach Sky Rank and become a transcendent being. But Reina originally joined for her father's resurrection, and no one knows what the future holds.
As for the lazy, greedy fool Hubert—already a gifted Dragonblood Orc—he first fused with the Golden Three-Headed Dragon's Blood, then bathed in God-Demon blood, and now with a drop of Primordial Venom Dragon heartblood, his body has become some kind of monster, stronger than a humanoid dragon.
This muscle-brained oaf is a perfect enforcer and meat shield, but anything requiring a bit of thought is hopeless for Hubert.
Watching the first Title Archmage I've trained by hand about to emerge, with magus rune fusion nearly complete, my mood has lightened considerably.
A few minutes later, the magus engulfed in elemental fire finally steps out—the burning crimson flames part on their own, swirling around him like sentient spirits, forming a storm of fire.
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The first Title Archmage's breakthrough seems to trigger a chain reaction—three more immediately reach their limits and begin advancing to Title Archmage...
Leon watches for a long while, but finds no sign of danger—their advancement is smooth, nothing to worry about.
"It's a pity they're all magi and can't use the Venomwyrm Antidote. Only Hubert gets that perk..."
With that thought, Leon turns and leaves, finds Hubert still chasing after Reina, casually tosses three Frost Rays to freeze Hubert into an ice statue, then takes out a bottle of black liquid and carefully coats every inch of Hubert's body with it.
Countless ink-like streams flow over Hubert's skin, wriggling into his body like living things. Gradually, his skin turns dark green, runes appear all over, and after several minutes, his skin finally returns to normal.
This is the creation of Hubert's Venomproof Physique—his body now immune to all toxins except those from the Primordial Venom Dragon. No poison or venom magic can truly threaten him anymore; at worst, he'll be mildly affected. Ordinary poisons and spells are now useless against Hubert.
Sadly, this physique only suits swordmasters—the potion severely disrupts magical power, and for mages, it ruins more than half their strength. Not worth the trade.
But for someone like Hubert, who doesn't need to cast spells at all, it's the perfect upgrade.
Once all the potion has soaked into Hubert, Leon turns to leave; behind him, the thawed Hubert immediately starts rolling on the ground, howling in agony.
No one gets power without paying the price...
After three days, the time for the grand offensive arrives. By now, Leon's three cousins have all broken through to Second-Rank Title Archmage, Reina has nearly finished fusing with the Primordial Venom Dragon's Empty Magic Core, and her uncontrollable chill can finally be restrained.
Hubert has also successfully fused with that drop of Primordial Venom Dragon heartblood, mastered the Venomproof Physique, and his strength has soared to Fifth-Rank Sword Saint—though his power is now so immense, even he can't comprehend it.
With the alchemical array's enhancement, the tens of thousands of pounds of Slaughter in his hands feel as light as a feather.
Leon looks at the gathered crowd, pondering how to maximize the use of everything harvested from the Primordial Venom Dragon.
A batch of staffs floats under Leon's control to the fifty subordinates.
These staffs are jet-black, covered in fine patterns like tiny dragon scales pieced together. At the top, a snarling dragon head clutches a Fire Soul Crystal in its jaws.
"These are the new staffs I've prepared for you. Get familiar with them quickly. Though they're just low-tier Soulbound Relics, their power rivals the strongest of their kind."
Leon doesn't explain further—all these staffs are made from Primordial Venom Dragon scales mixed with other materials.
Although the Primordial Venom Dragon is all poison and its spells are poison-based, once the toxins are purged, the materials naturally enhance elemental affinity and power.
With a replaceable Fire Soul Crystal embedded, the staff's fire magic reaches the pinnacle of Soulbound Relic power.
Combined with these fifty's Arcane Sigil Firestorm, it's a nightmare for enemies on the battlefield.
Besides the fifty subordinates, Leon hands three uncrystalled staffs to his three Merlin cousins.
"These are the same staffs, but without crystals. Choose whichever suits you best—I left the slots open for you to embed your own."
William and the other two are stunned by Leon's generosity.
Damn, whatever that meat was—after eating it, our power jumped, and even our bodies changed.
Now Leon produces fifty-plus Soulbound Relics in one go—even the lowest tier is still a Soulbound Relic!
These staffs look metallic but conduct magic almost perfectly, even gathering elemental energy automatically—casting spells now takes half the effort.
And those fifty Fire Soul Crystals—those are Fire Soul Crystals!
Where did he get fifty Fire Soul Crystals? Did he slaughter at least fifty Level Thirty or higher magical beasts—all fire types?
Damn it, did Leon secretly wipe out a whole minor plane? (My novel 'End of Magic Throne' has more fresh content on the official WeChat platform, plus a 100% prize draw! Open WeChat, tap the '+' in the top right, search for 'qdread' and follow—don't miss out!)