Two peak Legendary mages and a monster approaching class-of-God level plunged into a furious battle, their shockwaves throwing the entire World of Doors into upheaval. The stench of destruction permeated everything; space seemed on the verge of collapsing and shattering at any moment, and what had been a bizarre, lifeless Forest of Death had become a true apocalyptic wasteland.
Like many Legendary mages of the ancient Arcane Magic Empire, Douglas had numerous brilliant, luminous gems orbiting his head. They resembled artificial planets — some golden-green, some ocean-blue, some a pure, vivid red.
These gems flickered between brightness and dimness, channeling different spells in response to his incantations, weaving together a terrifying "Domain."
His tailcoat had transformed into a majestic black robe of the classic ancient Arcane Magic Empire style, its surface flowing with deep, dark radiance that warded off the ocean of holy light generated by "the monster Benedict III."
Two objects floated before him: his exclusive Legendary artifact, the "Dark Astrolabe," and a thick tome bound in deep black with silver-white patterns, its pages continuously turning as it unleashed wave after wave of Legendary magic.
Facing a monster that defied all conventional understanding, Douglas had deployed every one of his Legendary artifacts — two peak Legendary and two third-tier Legendary!
As for Fernando, his right eye had lost its red hue, becoming a deep, dark black like an ocean-floor vortex or the wellspring of destruction, ceaselessly exhaling high-energy storms and unleashing the bizarre curses hidden within the starry sky.
He was the true culprit behind the Forest of Death's transformation into an apocalyptic wasteland!
His crimson magic robe dominated everything around it, contesting control of the environment with the monster's transformed Benedict III in a posture of sovereignty. In his right hand he held a deep-black staff that Lucian had never seen before.
The staff seemed alive, writhing and twisting, yet utterly without pattern — suffused with chaos, giving the impression of an infinite abyss descending upon the world. With each use, Fernando conjured vast regions of primordial chaos, annihilating everything within, space included.
The two peak Legendary mages had played every trump card they possessed, yet still they could not overwhelm the "Headless Pope." Sanctum of Divine Protection, Light of Judgment, Spear of Purification, Trumpet of Heaven, World-Cleansing Flame, Holy Cross, Sigh of the Wind, Eye of God — Divine Arts came to the monster's fingertips with effortless ease, their power inexhaustible, and instead it was Douglas and Fernando who found themselves firmly suppressed.
This sent a chill through Douglas — not because of the monster's strength (even against the true Pontiff, without the Divine Descent Art, he was confident he could withdraw unscathed), but because he could not fathom the creature's condition! Normally, such evil and aberrant monsters were inherently countered by Divine Arts, yet this one could wield them as fluently as the real Pope!
"Truly a monster beyond imagination," Douglas murmured over their mental link.
Faring even worse than Douglas, Fernando nonetheless remained calm: "We look for an opening and fall back toward the entrance. It can't stop us!"
"Agreed!" Douglas was entirely in favor. This expedition was only supposed to extend as far as the Soul Hearth — there was no need to tangle with a monster as incomprehensibly bizarre as this one. And if Lucian hadn't already been killed by the monster, then while it was occupied with the two of them, he should be making his way toward the entrance as well!
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Early August, and even the wind was scorching.
The Supreme Council chamber was once again discussing the still-missing Douglas, Fernando, and Lucian.
"I believe we must organize another expedition to mount a rescue," said Brooke, the "Emperor of Dominion," pressing his ten fingers together and surveying the other members. "I will lead this time. Does anyone object?"
He was mentally exhausted yet strangely exhilarated. Over the past few months, approaching the problem from the perspective of electrons as waves, he had caught a faint glimpse of another path toward solving the issues with New Alchemy — had his mathematical foundations been a bit more solid and certain experimental phenomena been accounted for, he might already have achieved a breakthrough. But at this critical juncture for the Arcane Alliance's survival, he had set aside his experiments without hesitation and resolved to assemble a rescue team.
Given that the Legendary undead in the outer reaches of the Netherworld Temple had been largely cleared out by Douglas, Fernando, Lucian, and the others, Brooke was confident that the Alliance's current strength could easily overwhelm them. The real consideration was the faction from the Northern Church, and that could be handled through negotiation and communication — after all, the Alliance had never harbored any intention of destroying the secret chamber that served as their base. If they too were curious about the secrets beyond the Soul Hearth, there might even be grounds for cooperation.
No eternal friends, no eternal enemies — only eternal interests. Brooke believed Lucian's words applied equally well to the Northern Church, with whom relations were relatively cordial.
"I suggest we wait one more month," said Vicente, the Soul Sovereign, his voice hoarse. "The flow of time near the Soul Hearth is abnormally slow. I suspect less than a single day has passed inside. His Excellency the Chairman, Fernando, and Lucian Evans may well be on their way back to the entrance as we speak. In such circumstances, rashly organizing a rescue force would be irresponsible to the Alliance."
He was consumed by longing for the secrets beyond the Soul Hearth, yet equally terrified of the unknown, colossal dangers that lay there.
"I agree with Vicente's suggestion — wait one more month. When the time comes, I'll go with you, Brooke." Oliver nodded gently in agreement. It was not that he was cowardly, but that there was simply no need yet. Two peak Legendary mages should not have fallen so easily, especially with the Netherworld's mysterious entity having recently fallen back into slumber.
Moreover, like Brooke, he was at a critical juncture on the verge of a breakthrough in his research on the wave equation of the electron.
Hathaway glanced at Natasha sitting beside her — the latter had been specially invited to attend the Supreme Council meeting — and said with an expressionless face: "The Oracle has not foreseen any danger of Lucian's fall. In one month, if they still haven't returned, we depart on schedule. I will join the rescue team."
A consensus was reached swiftly. Brooke sighed softly and first addressed Hathaway: "You provided a brilliant line of thinking for solving the two-electron atomic model. This is a triumph for matrix mechanics — I no longer doubt its value, though I still cannot grasp the arcanum meaning behind it."
"That's nothing," Hathaway replied, her expression indifferent, her words terse.
Brooke then turned to Natasha. "I hope you can understand our decision. It's still difficult to confirm that they're in any danger, of course. In the meantime, I will be stationed in the outer reaches of the Netherworld Temple to provide support."
Once an expedition team was assembled, its great power would allow it to accomplish far more — but if danger arose, a single peak Legendary mage would find it far easier to extricate themselves. That was one of the reasons Brooke had decided to go himself rather than organizing a full expedition right away.