Chapter 143

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Chapter 143: Magic Power

Underground in the Primary Material Plane, the Dungeon Core is boiling.

How can a solid boil? But no other words can describe this scene. The semi-transparent bright red ore pulsated violently, as if it were a beating heart. The frantic pulsation is enough to make any creature burst into pieces. It shone as bright as the sun, ominously like the light of inferno, dark streaks suddenly appeared in this enclosed garnet, gathering, boiling, spreading.

Some huge and invisible changes are happening violently.

You can’t see flowing water on the surface of the desert, underground currents flow into the body of every plant along the roots, only the flowers blooming after watering can show traces of flowing water. People without magical vision cannot see the surging magic, but they see this drastic change – any creature with long eyes can see it.

Marion howled to the sky, her bones cracked, blood gushing out again, splattering her already blood-stained fur. The old fur was torn, reshaped after the bones were broken, a stronger muscle texture covering a sturdier skeleton. The towering Silver Wolf straightened her new body, shedding the bloody old skin, as if emerging from an ill-fitting snake’s molt. This roar wasn’t a cry of pain, but a triumphant battle cry.

In just a few seconds, the majestic Worgen God appeared on the battlefield, her silver-white fur shining like new snow. Lowering her head, she roared like thunder, forcing Hell’s Three Headed Dog to change course, now the two giant beasts were evenly matched in size, almost equal in strength.

Changing course wasn’t a good idea.

A deep chanting echoed over the battlefield, even the most skilled wizard couldn’t mimic it because it was not meant for human voices. The head to the left of Six Mouth Moya opened its mouth as purple flames gathered in its throat. Just like a dragon that should have been attacking with claws, there was a brief moment after breathing out fire when Hell’s Three Headed Dog was caught off guard.

A blizzard was approaching.

Unlike a natural storm, a terrifying cold of minus hundreds degrees came with sharp ice crystals slashing through Hell’s Three Headed Dog’s thick fur. Magic ice crystals fell into the still-open mouths, rapidly vaporizing and draining the heat inside, freezing from mouth to throat. The massive jaws with a hint of sulfur odor were now surrounded by white mist, as Six Mouth Moya shook its head in frozen pain, breaking half-frozen tongue on its teeth.

The dragon chanted in dragon language, filled with a massive amount of magic from the dungeon that empowered its non-traditional body. The power of a trace of true dragon blood suddenly amplified as if it temporarily elevated from a young dragon to an ancient one. Seizing the rare opportunity, the Legendary Ancient Dragon unleashed powerful spells long forgotten as if they were free. Every whisper of the dragon caused wild magic around, creating small magical vacuums as spells condensed in the air.

Magic, purest energy flowed through the covenant’s connection.

A room was in chaos, minstrels hurriedly helped their lead singer. Jacqueline curled up in pain, clutching her arms as if something was about to burst out of her.

She was growing taller.

"Ah!" Someone gasped, quickly taking off their coat to wrap Jacqueline up. The minstrel, who had maintained a youthful appearance for decades, was visibly growing, scales appearing on her arms. Her hair curled like seaweed, her body bursting out of her small dress.

"Ah…" Jacqueline murmured, her clear voice more melodious than a nightingale. She reached out, watching her chubby fingers of not long ago turn slim and graceful.

The faint fairy and sea monster blood mix in Jacqueline. Now, the thinner but more powerful sea monster side is enhanced. The balance shifts, one rising, one falling. The sea monster’s magic gathers in her throat. With the magic in her voice, she can cover the whole battlefield without any devices.

As the singing begins, the sky churns.

The once cloudless sky battlefield is now covered in dark clouds. The clouds roll and seem to be brewing a big storm. Only the warriors deep inside the battlefield can see that it’s not just dark clouds but shadows.

The unnamed Shadow Witch moves swiftly in the sky. She no longer needs to jump between small shadows; she can now create large dark clouds herself. The magic in the air is getting stronger, making the witch feel even more powerful. It’s as if the ocean has expanded onto the land, with a great white shark swimming happily. The unnamed witch gleefully shrieks as her shadowy cloak covers the flying demons, tightening, shrinking, and causing a lot of blood to rain down like droplets. Before the corpses hit the ground, they return to the abyss.

"Wow, amazing!" Echo Witch Ophelia whistles, her magic flowing in her veins like alcohol, exciting her. She laughs excitedly and says, "Let me try too!"

A huge portal is opening, a passage half the size between the abyss and the Primary Material Plane. First, a pile of muscular arms appears, followed by a big belly. The giant squeezing through the portal has a shiny blue bald head, pointy ears, and a lower body made of smoke and dust. Giants aren’t the only creatures with the ability to call upon spirits. This big, rough-looking individual is also a cousin of the fairies.

"That looks tough!" Ophelia points at the Chaos Stomach still crossing the passage. "Go on! Push it back!"

Following orders, the giant spirit guard with twisted muscles grabs one side of Chaos Stomach and with a loud shout, pushes the Demon Lord to the other side. Can the arrival of the Demon Lord be stopped with such chaos? It’s really a mess, a comedy of errors. Coincidentally, the immensely strong giant spirit encounters the slow-moving, highly devouring but otherwise ineffective Devouring Demon Chaos Stomach. The two bulky creatures end up locked in a stalemate in the passage.

Flame Witch Abigail continues to set fires. The firebird flying from her palm becomes more vigorous and agile, like a true phoenix reborn, pecking at the invaders not belonging to the Primary Material Plane. Explosions resound in the sky, echoing the flames on the ground. The fire wizard Laurien hurls fireballs, pouring magic like a bucket of oil over the flames.

"So, what’s wrong with Flame Wizard burning demons?" Laurien whispered, as a chain of fireballs turned a Felhound’s head into a torch. "There’s nothing that can’t be burned. If it doesn’t burn, the fire isn’t strong enough."

At the beginning of this dramatic change, researchers inside the Archmage Tower were the first to discover it.

Wizard Edwin suddenly stood up with such force that he knocked over his chair. The wizards and apprentices present fell silent, with all eyes fixed on the flower inside the shield. It was a magical seed from the Ancient Mage Tower that old wizard Weber had once studied. He regretfully explained that this plant would only grow in a magic environment of the past.

"On the other hand, it won’t die before it blooms, only remain in waiting," he said. "It will outlive us all, and when Aryan returns to that prosperous land of magic from the past, our heir will see it blossom."

The pot in the shield sprouted tender shoots and quickly blossomed. The ancient plant swayed gently under the unbelieving gazes of all present, heralding an unknown outcome.

Magician Technicians sighed as they watched the dials on the control panel spin like windmills. The instruments used to measure slight changes in the magic environment were rendered useless by the massive shift, with only the large magical measuring device in the hall, considered symbolic, ticking by slowly. It moved through measurements expected to span centuries, leaving observers stunned and hastily taking notes.

Even the most composed spellcasters were moved, and those who could sense magic felt their hearts race uncontrollably, hearing the magic joyfully sing in their ears.

Various spells, like firewood soaked in oil, erupted with power far beyond expectations. The Toxic Charizard, initially dominating, was now suppressed by firepower, and the spells’ range extended significantly, making the sky no longer a barrier. A misfired spell passed through its target upwards, eventually taking down an Obituary Bird. The synchronized spells paused in astonishment for a brief moment, then realigned their aim higher into the sky.

It looked just like a grand fireworks display.

Someone was running towards the battlefield. She lost her shoes and ran barefoot, not caring at all. She was an old woman with white hair, well-known on the battlefield despite her old age. After leaving the battlefield, the Amazon Queen continued to teach, guiding many archers. Wearing a golden crown and wielding a longbow, the Queen moved swiftly and lightly, like a young person.

She was no longer young. Her eagle-like eyes started to blur, her sharp ears became dull, and her aging body couldn’t ignore her old wounds anymore. She was not part of the great battle that decided the fate of the Primary Material Plane. She could only watch her students and kin go to the battlefield, praying and waiting outside, as there was nothing more she could do – all was in the past! Power surged within the old warrior Amazon Queen, allowing her to fight one last time.

The Amazon’s secret magic was activated by this power, spreading tattoo-like patterns on the Queen’s cheeks, making wrinkles and old wounds fade away, and her dry limbs became lively and strong again. Her white hair remained, but youth returned. In this brief moment, her career level that had been stagnant skyrocketed from high-ranked to almost legendary.

She drew her bow.

A semi-transparent magic long arrow was formed on the bowstring, surrounded by bright lightning. This arrow contained the Queen’s lifetime experience, skills, and all her spirit and vitality, shining brighter than the morning star. It was released with a whoosh, heading towards the Chaos Stomach that blocked the way.

Swish!

The Devouring Demon hit by the arrow let out a deafening roar, cracks appearing on its thick stomach wall, spreading uncontrollably. Wizards in black robes concentrated their attacks on that wound, like tapping on a cracked glass window. The Amazon Queen’s magic arrow opened a pathway, causing the fat Demon Lord to painfully disintegrate in a series of attacks.

At the same time, the non-spellcasters’ battle was fierce.

The Professionals fought bravely, some with a lesser sensitivity to magic, but as long as they were connected to Tasha, they could share her gifts. Even the pure melee Professionals had a connection to magic. Warriors could use powerful battle cries to stun enemies, and assassins’ stealth became more unpredictable, their backstabs more vicious. Pure power infused their bodies, driving them to fight relentlessly.

The adventurer Jacob looked up from the enemy’s body, while the Arborist Druids were casting spells, transforming the area into a dense forest filled with a strong Natural Aura. He listened to the wind, pondering the mysterious revelations, and suddenly felt blessed. Just like the day he gained freedom, transitioning from an ordinary person to an adventurer, he learned new things in this wave.

Jacob picked a leaf, rolling it into a leaf flute by his lips, producing a soft and melodious sound barely audible in the noisy battlefield. It’s okay, as long as the summoned beings can hear it.

They are coming.

Dozens, hundreds of fierce beasts suddenly appeared, moving through the air with translucent figures barely touching the ground. Past animal companions of the adventurer, in the wave of magic, temporarily gained forms. They ran past Jacob, charging towards the demons on the battlefield. These spirit animals attacked with ferocity, claws and fangs stained with demon blood. A red-brown Mountain Lion casually walked by Jacob, licking the blood on its lips. Jacob reached out and scratched the ears of the Mountain Lion’s spirit.

The surge of magic was intense, riling up both demons and defenders, bloodlust in their eyes. The battle was intense, shouts echoing, until a beam of sunlight broke through the shadow, shining upon them. Weaker demons lost their forms upon being exposed, swiftly melting like heated ice cream into pools of blood. The illuminated Aryan defenders fought even harder, the warm light soothing their wounds, purging the demons’ corruption.

In the sky were many things – the spreading form of the Shadow Witch, airships and drones, summoned beings of the Echo Witches, flying demons, and the roaming spirits of animals… The battlefield was seldom touched by direct sunlight. This light was not from the sky but from the Prideful Sun Rod.

The Pope of Saro gripped a golden-red scepter, his blood flowing along the patterns, his complexion improving. The strength transmitted through the covenant replenished Samuel’s depleted spirit, empowering him to wield the Prideful Sun Rod. Facing the Abyssal Demon, the sun god’s scepter truly lived up to its name as a Divine Artifact, simultaneously attacking enemies and healing allies. In this exchange, the battle further shifted in favor of the Primary Material Plane.

"A miracle, it’s truly a miracle!" the broadcaster’s voice strained, her throat almost hoarse from the earlier tension, now appearing drained, "Yes, the Demon Lord that hasn’t fully entered our plane has fallen! The three-headed fiend is being firmly suppressed, it’s only a matter of time before its defeat!"

All across Aryan, many people clenched their fists in celebration of this news. Minstrels at the edge of the battlefield cheered, and soldiers with brief respite on the battlefield smiled.

"Your Grace, what’s wrong?" a priest standing by Pope Saro quietly asked amidst the cheers.

Saint Child of Saro, holding the Prideful Sun Rod, looked serious. Although color returned to his face and the battlefield had passed the dangerous moment when the defense line was almost broken by the abyss, casualties reduced, and hope returned to the eyes of the war correspondents with pale faces, Samuel’s expression was far from relaxed.

"This magic…" he murmured, his voice getting lower.

"Is something amiss?" the priest worriedly asked, "Could this magic not be part of Lord Governor’s plan?"

The residents of Tasmanian might not know about Tasha’s connection to the dungeon, but they habitually linked most actions to Lord Governor. Governor Natasha always seemed to come to the rescue, and they subconsciously believed in it.

Samuel moved his lips but eventually said nothing more. "Saro will protect us," Samuel said, showing a comforting smile.

"I hope so," he thought.

Samuel might be the only one on the entire battlefield of the Primary Material Plane who sensed something amiss. Even though the Heavenly Realm and deities had departed, as the Saint Child of Saro, Samuel could still detect the familiar scent of his old adversary. Amidst the frenzy of magic, he felt unease creeping in.

There was one thing reassuring though. Despite the overwhelming wave of magic entirely from the abyss, with some Primary Material Plane creatures showing signs of transformation, those who received the power need not worry about abyssal contamination. The transformation would gradually fade once this wave subsided; everything was just temporary. Tasha acted like a filter, consuming the impure power of the abyss, refining it into pure magic, nurturing all beings connected to her.

But the problem is here.

Everything that happened above took place in just over ten minutes. The tide of the battle turned within these ten minutes, with so many clashes happening in the sky and on the ground all over the battlefield. Also, during these ten minutes, underground, there were changes that could make one’s heart race.

The Dungeon Core is no longer boiling like a pot of simmering soup, it has started to stabilize.

Changes in it are visible to the naked eye; initially, it was a clear crystal garnet, but now its color has faded, ranging between deep brown and dark red, like coagulated blood. The darker parts slowly spread to the lighter ones, transitioning from light to dark. To restore its uniform texture, it may only be a matter of time.

Aside from Samuel, there were also some pessimistic individuals worrying, not believing in free lunches or windfalls. In fact, the inhabitants of the Primary Material Plane need not worry, nor do the residents of the dungeon, because someone has already paid the price for the power that descended from above.

The cost was borne by Tasha.

Or rather, causality is not like this. Tasha did not pay the price solely for the beings of the Primary Material Plane but rather as a consequence of the price she couldn’t escape in her dealings with the Abyss, so she chose to exchange this price for more things.

Tasha stood upon shattered bones.

The pile of bones became even more shattered, lifeless as they lay at Tasha’s feet. The Reaper Anmeng shattered bones and scattered souls, and this time, there was nothing that could bring this waste material back to life.

"Come out," said Tasha.

It was quiet all around, with no one answering, she felt like talking to herself.

"You’ve achieved your goal, why are you still sneaking around?" Tasha said, "Get out!"

Something appeared in this silent wilderness.

It was something… it was a kind of thing that was hard to describe other than calling it a "thing." Even if it appeared openly, even if it stood face to face, it was still impossible to describe clearly. You didn’t know if it was a living being, an object, or a phenomenon, all you could say was that there was a "something" there, and that was it.

Magic Demon Lord, "Unidentifiable Object" Rasheda, its title was indeed quite fitting, it was obvious at a glance.

If encountering the pale Anmeng could be considered a coincidence, when Tasha made the determined decision to accept the Abyss, she could already tell that they would be discovered as soon as they entered the Abyss.

The time difference between the Abyss and the Primary Material Plane was just a result of the reopening of the flow after the plane blockage, like when two spaces with different air pressures were just connected, causing some issues was normal. But the barrier between Tasha’s soul and the Dungeon Core, temporarily intercepted between her soul and this body, was definitely not a natural occurrence. When the Power of the Abyss broke through the barrier, Tasha could clearly see that it was a demon’s trick.

It was too late to realize this, by the time she discovered it, she had already accepted the Abyss, just as the one who set the barrier intended.

Expecting that they would come to the abyss, using subtle magic to influence Tasha’s soul, limiting the information she could receive, setting up a scene where both sides of the battlefield would end up dead… This trap was both a conspiracy and a stratagem. Reaper Anmeng was just a pawn, the mastermind had been waiting in the background for a long time.

"Please forgive me…" Rasheda said, her voice sounding weak and breathless, like someone who would need to catch their breath after a few steps. "Please forgive me, friend, I still have some things to take care of, I didn’t mean to stay away intentionally."

"Do the demons from the abyss like to call people ‘friends’ before fighting to the death with their enemies?" Tasha laughed, the irritable mood brought by Abyssal Will made her completely uninterested in pretense, "It’s best to act tough when you have the upper hand, otherwise it’s just a pretentious act of a defeated dog."

"I somehow feel like I’ve been scolded as well," Victor muttered in the connection, Tasha glanced at him and he quickly brought up the main point, "Wait! Now is not the time to talk about that, there’s something more important to mention!"

Pointing at Rasheda, he said with a complicated expression, "This pretentious guy is already dead."