Chapter 1025: Alchemical Array
The carriage landed softly, surrounded by several stoic warriors standing guard. From within, a strikingly handsome man with elven features and deep blue eyes stepped down.
In an instant, all six factions of the Odin Kingdom had arrived at once. Each radiated an intimidating aura, far stronger than before entering the Blazeforge Battlefield. Especially the Burning Tower—led by Dida La—whose mage legion surged forward like a tide of battle-hardened warriors, exuding a terrifying momentum.
Of the six factions, only the unlucky Henry Family seemed to have suffered losses; the rest appeared nearly untouched. As for the Burning Tower, their numbers hadn’t diminished at all—in fact, their presence felt even more overwhelming than before.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the mist, after a brief disturbance, Heron emerged with the Black Tower contingent.
The five factions that arrived almost simultaneously stood in stark contrast to the four from the Odin Kingdom; the Black Tower’s people looked like refugees fresh out of a camp.
The Burning Tower exuded raw power, the Dunespire Tower was silent but menacing, and the Skyhold Fortress floated above, its battle-scarred bastions bearing witness to fierce combat—yet not a single casualty among them.
The royal family of Odin Kingdom seemed to be on a leisurely outing, as if they hadn’t encountered any danger along the way. Even the Shadow Tower had barely suffered losses. Apart from the Henry Family’s casualties, all six factions of the Odin Kingdom were nearly at full strength.
The Black Tower had just arrived. Heron's dark mage robe was nowhere to be seen, replaced by a plain black robe. The dozen or so mages following him all looked unsteady, bearing visible wounds and exhaustion. Even Heron’s brow was heavy with fatigue.
Leon glanced at Heron, his brows suddenly knitting together.
Before, it had been impossible to gauge Heron's true strength—only a sense of black fire quietly burning, swallowing all surrounding light.
But now, with just a casual glance and no deliberate probing, the mage array instantly calculated Heron's power level.
Level thirty-nine, at the very peak—he’s already taken a step toward the Sky Rank. If all goes well, it won’t be long before he becomes a Pseudo Sky Rank powerhouse.
In that moment, Leon understood: the True Spirit magic artifact Heron had carried was destroyed, its avatar utterly obliterated.
That artifact, known as the Dark Magic Stone, had an avatar of burning black fire—a renowned True Spirit artifact, the pride of the Black Tower.
But now it was ruined. Looking at the remaining Black Tower members, their losses were catastrophic: of the five ninth-tier Title Archmages seen upon entry, three were gone, and the rest fared no better.
The Black Tower’s casualties were nearly as severe as those of the Skyhold Fortress. With both suffering such losses on the Blazeforge Battlefield, their dominance in Andalusia might be at risk.
Both of Andalusia’s top mage factions lost their most vital True Spirit artifacts and their avatars. If word got out, other mage powers might challenge the Black Tower and Skyhold Fortress for supremacy.
All six factions of the Odin Kingdom had arrived, while Andalusia only managed three—and two of those were half-crippled. The contrast was stark.
And as everyone entered, the first thing they saw was the tense standoff between the Shadow Tower and Leon.
Diras had already drawn his True Spirit artifact and staff; the Odin Kingdom factions immediately understood this was a prelude to battle.
Dida La of the Burning Tower strode out, his face cold, carrying the fierce momentum of recent combat. He marched directly between Diras and Leon.
He turned first to Diras.
"Diras, are you really looking to start a fight here? Planning to ruin everything we’ve worked for?"
Diras met Dida La’s icy gaze, opened his mouth to speak, but the words died unsaid. Reluctantly, he put away his staff.
"Lord Dida La, of course I don’t want that. But perhaps someone else..."
Diras hadn’t finished his sentence before Dida La cut him off with a thunderous roar.
"If you don’t want trouble, then get out of here! Or do you think you’re fit to take my place and lead this campaign?"
Diras paled and quickly waved his hands in denial.
Replace you as leader of this force? I’m not that crazy...
That damn brute, that tyrannical dictator—he’s definitely holding a grudge over what happened earlier...
How did I not notice he was wearing the Burning Soul Robe when we came in? No wonder no one else thought Dida La’s words were out of line.
This guy’s always been the strongest—rumor has it he’s surpassed Title Archmage level but hasn’t quite reached Sky Rank. They say he personally ventured into the Burning Sea, hoping to master two branches of the fire laws at once and make the final breakthrough.
Looks like the rumors were true. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to wear the Burning Soul Robe. Damn it, with that robe, his power is basically at true Sky Rank.
Facing someone who can wield real Sky Rank power—especially Dida La, the notorious arrogant brute—Diras wisely kept his mouth shut and backed away.
Diras sensibly retreated without another word. Dida La nodded in satisfaction, then turned to Leon, his powerful aura flaring. The fire dragons embroidered on his robe stilled, their heads turning toward Leon, radiating a terrifying pressure worthy of a true Sky Rank mage.
The pressure swept over, not just blanketing Lin Yun, but pressing down indiscriminately on everyone from Andalusia.
Leon's brow furrowed slightly. Opposite him, Dida La was already staring him down, voice cold and merciless.
"Mafa Merlin, I don’t care what grudges you have with the Shadow Tower, or what beef you’ve got with the other Odin Kingdom factions. Anywhere else, you can do whatever you want—it’s none of my damn business."
As he spoke, Dida La pointed at the ground, his tone growing heavier.
"But here, on the Blazeforge Battlefield, if you dare ruin everything we’ve worked for, I’ll be the first to make you pay. Anyone who dares make trouble here—be ready to be turned to ash by my flames!"
With that, Dida La cast a disdainful glance at the Skyhold Fortress and Black Tower mages before turning away.
Dida La’s forceful intervention ended the imminent battle. Diras shot Leon a cold smile, as if to say, 'Lucky you.'
Leon gave Diras a bland look, unfazed by Dida La’s threat. Whether he killed Diras here or elsewhere made little difference.
On the contrary, if he killed Diras here, he might face even more pressure when the orcs showed up. The Blazeforge Orcs’ strength on this battlefield was formidable—the Golden Orcs alone rivaled the Burning Tower, and the battlefield itself gave the orcs a boost. The Golden Orcs might even be stronger.
With the temple entrance looming, Leon had no intention of wasting strength here. Besides, with all six Odin Kingdom factions present, a fight was out of the question.
The temple’s gate and those ancient alchemical arrays had been thoroughly studied by now. It was clear: entry would be in three waves, ten spots per wave. The key to opening the gate was 108 Pseudo Sky Rank Mana Crystals.
Leon held twenty crystals, plus two from the Henry Family—just twenty-two in total. He was still fourteen short.
Joey and Heron came over, awkwardly presenting their crystals.
Joey had four. On their way here, they’d been ambushed by Golden Orcs, suffering heavy losses. They’d only managed to hunt four Pseudo Sky Rank beasts.
Heron was in slightly better shape, but not by much—he only had five crystals, and his losses were no less than Skyhold Fortress’s.
Even with those nine crystals, they were still five short of claiming one of the three entry slots.
Joey and Heron’s faces were tinged with embarrassment. Unable to gather enough crystals, they couldn’t secure a spot—handing Odin Kingdom a perfect excuse.
Diras, who’d been watching closely, immediately noticed the problem. Odin Kingdom had already sorted their teams and collected seventy-two crystals, just waiting for Andalusia to scrape together thirty-six and open the temple gate. Who would’ve thought Andalusia couldn’t even manage that...
"I said from the start, you people from Andalusia are just dead weight. See? Odin Kingdom’s six factions easily gathered seventy-two crystals, and you can’t even get thirty-six. Pathetic."
"I’d heard Skyhold Fortress and Black Tower were Andalusia’s strongest, but you’re useless—just making it here, you lost so many. How have you survived this long? Trash, and yet you’re supposed to be the best Andalusia has to offer."
"It’s laughable. At this rate, any random Odin Kingdom faction could wipe the floor with Andalusia."
"No, no—your backwater kingdom’s so worthless, we wouldn’t even want it as a gift. No magical beasts in the mountains, just a bunch of red-assed monkeys playing king."
"Wow, one of you managed four crystals, another got five—amazing. With strength this pathetic, you actually made it to the Blazeforge Battlefield. Should’ve let more of our people come instead of dragging us down."
"You’re so weak you can’t even gather enough crystals. Just give up your slot for the third area—don’t waste our time. You’re not qualified to claim it anymore."
"Keep this up and those idiot Blazeforge Orcs might overtake us again."
Diras’s loud tirade instantly drew the attention of the other Odin Kingdom factions.
They were busy debating how many members each faction could send. Odin Kingdom had two areas and only twenty spots; dividing them among six factions was bound to leave some with more, some with less.