Chapter 274: Success
With this turn of events, Sylas West was instantly caught in a dilemma.
On one hand, he worried about offending that young Archmage; on the other, he feared the journey would be far too dangerous...
For a moment, Sylas West truly felt tormented, caught between both fears.
At this moment, Sylas West genuinely felt powerless, able to do nothing but watch as the Plane Path pressed onward toward the center of the Graveyard. Its route twisted and stalled, like an old horse dragging a broken cart—so slow and uncertain that anyone watching would worry it might break down at any moment.
"Huh?"
But as he kept watching, Sylas West started to feel that something was off...
Sure, the Plane Path was moving with great difficulty, but if you looked closely, you’d notice that as it traveled through the endless Graveyard, it never touched a single corpse...
No, not just corpses...
Even the shattered weapons and armor, those fragments scattered across the Void, all seemed to automatically make way for the Plane Path. From start to finish, not a single piece ever landed on its surface.
Of course, fragments don’t just move out of the way on their own...
That means the only possibility is—the Plane Path is avoiding them!
"How is that possible!" Once Sylas West realized this, he was utterly stunned.
A Plane Path stretching dozens of meters, moving through a Void so densely packed with corpses, yet never touching a single body or even a fragment—what does that even mean...?
It means that whoever’s controlling the Plane Path has been deliberately steering clear of every obstacle.
But...
The obstacles in this Void Graveyard aren’t just one or two—or even hundreds or thousands. There are hundreds of thousands, even millions, all crammed together, so densely packed it’s like a clogged sewer, with nowhere to step. Forget about dodging all the junk and filth; even forcing your way through would take tremendous effort...
Yet now, this young Archmage has somehow found a path through it all, never once brushing against a single piece of junk or drop of filth...
Isn’t that terrifying enough already?
No, no, the truly terrifying part comes next...
He was controlling a Plane Path over a hundred meters long!
Never mind the mental effort required to control such a Plane Path—just imagine dragging something that massive through such a cramped space. The difficulty is almost unimaginable.
But for Sylas West, what was truly frightening was the sheer psychological resilience...
This entire journey allowed zero margin for error...
The slightest mistake would doom the entire team.
Everyone’s life—including the young Archmage’s own—was in his hands. Under such crushing pressure, almost no mage could perform normally. Yet this young Archmage still managed to guide the Plane Path through that narrow space.
From start to finish, not even his fingers trembled.
What kind of terrifying psychological fortitude was that...
In Sylas West’s view, only the calmest—or the coldest—person could achieve this: to disregard others’ lives is one thing, but to disregard even your own, that’s what makes someone truly terrifying.
And the young Archmage standing before him now—without a doubt—was just such a truly terrifying person.
Suddenly, Sylas West felt a wave of relief...
Relieved that, for once, he’d made the right choice—by following this young Archmage as he drove the Plane Path into the Void, he’d eased the tension between them. At the very least, it meant the young Archmage wouldn’t come after Fran for old grudges, nor would things get worse between Mercury Tower and him.
For Sylas West, that was more than enough...
To make an enemy of someone truly terrifying like this—Sylas West couldn’t even imagine the consequences.
The Plane Path wound its way through the Void Graveyard...
Originally, the Plane Path was only about a hundred meters from the corpse of the Golden Three-Headed Dragon. But Leon, guiding the Plane Path, flew hundreds of kilometers, circling countless corpses and fragments, finally approaching the dragon’s body from the rear flank...
Others might not see the reason for this...
Only Leon himself knew: this was the only safe route. Any other approach to the Golden Three-Headed Dragon’s corpse would be a death sentence—either crashing into the corpses of giant chromatic dragons or ancient god-demons, or getting shredded by drifting weapons and armor in the Void.
Only this route could avoid everything, letting the Dragonblood Orc claim that single drop of Golden Three-Headed Dragon’s blood.
Finally, as Leon guided the Plane Path through the last corpse-choked stretch of Void, that drop of dragon’s blood came within Hubert’s reach.
"What..." The Dragonblood Orc, who had nearly lost all hope, suddenly saw that drop of dragon’s blood right before his eyes, tangled in vines. His face went blank with shock—the surprise hit so suddenly it even smothered the urge rising from his bloodline. Stunned, he just stared at the drop, forgetting to reach out for it...
"What are you spacing out for? Hurry up!" Leon was already struggling to keep the Plane Path steady at that spot, and seeing the Dragonblood Orc freeze up made him snap in frustration.
"Oh, oh..." Jolted by Leon’s shout, the Dragonblood Orc finally snapped out of it and hurriedly reached out...
And then...
That drop of dragon’s blood vanished...
Yes—almost the instant the Dragonblood Orc’s fingers touched it, the dragon’s blood disappeared, as if pulled by some mysterious force, sinking right into his fingertip. The change happened so fast that, if Leon hadn’t confirmed its existence beforehand, he might have thought it was all a hallucination—that there’d never been any dragon’s blood there at all...
(This chapter isn’t over yet~.~ Please click next page to continue reading the rest!)
Yet before Leon could even recover, something even bigger suddenly happened.
The instant that drop of dragon’s blood vanished, the Golden Three-Headed Dragon’s scales abruptly lost all their luster. Once gleaming and radiant as if forged from pure gold, they now dulled in a blink...
Even more terrifying, Leon could clearly see the Golden Three-Headed Dragon’s corpse changing—at a pace visible to the naked eye...
At first, it was just the scales losing their shine. But soon, the Golden Three-Headed Dragon’s corpse began to shrivel—within moments, that once-mighty body became gaunt and skeletal, as if a single gust of wind could scatter it...
And that wasn’t the end...
The scales fell away one by one, turning to ash and vanishing into the Void. The corpse, once the ultimate symbol of Northend World’s defense, melted away like cheese on a hot stove—within moments, only a pale skeleton remained, and then, with a soft "whoosh," even that collapsed into dust...
The whole thing took barely a minute...
But for the Golden Three-Headed Dragon’s corpse, it was as if a hundred thousand—maybe a million—years had passed.
The once lifelike corpse, having lost that single drop of dragon’s blood, instantly decayed...
Only when the last bone crumbled to dust did Leon, a bit dazed, withdraw his hand. While guiding the vine spell to pull Hubert back onto the Plane Path, he pondered carefully—what exactly had caused all this...?
"Sir, sir, I got it, I got it!" Hubert was beaming with excitement—his deepest bloodline craving finally satisfied. For a Dragonblood Orc, it was almost like a leap in evolution; that sense of fulfillment was beyond words.
"As long as you got it." Leon had no time to bother with Hubert—the bizarre transformation of the Golden Three-Headed Dragon had shaken him to the core.
Up until now, Leon had always thought...
He’d always assumed that the corpses in this Void Graveyard were just like those on the Plane Path—completely drained of power.
In fact, after entering the Void Graveyard, the magical feedback Leon received confirmed this: the whole place was nearly devoid of magical fluctuations, let alone any powerful auras.
All that remained here was a deathly silence and eerie stillness.
But now, Leon suddenly realized—he might have been wrong...
The reason lay in that single drop of dragon’s blood...
The change brought by that drop of dragon’s blood—others might not understand, but Leon could guess.
He was almost certain that the only reason the Golden Three-Headed Dragon’s corpse hadn’t decayed was that single drop of dragon’s blood. So, once Hubert absorbed it, the corpse immediately began to rot.
In other words, that drop of dragon’s blood must have preserved a portion of the Golden Three-Headed Dragon’s power...
If the dragon’s power was preserved—what about the other corpses...?
Like, say, the ancient god-demons?
At that thought, Leon couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement.
If his guess was right, there were at least ten ancient god-demon corpses in this Void Graveyard. If he could get close to even one, the potential rewards would be unimaginable.
No, no—even without the ancient god-demons...
The Silvermoon Elves with their innate magical talent, the Silver Dragons born knowing every spell—any of these would be excellent choices. Even a tiny remnant of their legacy could bring untold benefits.
"In that case, I’d better start searching..." Leon mused, his gaze piercing the dense mass of corpses as the mana array within him roared to life, mapping out one dangerous route after another through the Void Graveyard...
***********
(Let’s stop at 6000 characters for today. I’ll try to write more tomorrow—please support with monthly votes!)