Chapter 545: Crossing the Sea of Storms

The deep blue sea churned with surging waves, proclaiming the boundless power of this domain.

For countless ages past, not even the great leviathans of the abyss dared approach these fathomless waters.

And for good reason—this sea was tainted.

A thousand years ago, the Storm Tyrant Bagdana had fallen here, his monstrous energy and raging spirit scattering across the depths. Guided by unseen hands through the will of the Nightmare King, that corruption wove a veil, severing the Crescent Continent from the rest of the world.

From that day forth, Starfall Continent and Crescent Continent knew no passage between them.

At first, perhaps, brave souls from both lands sought to cross—but too many attempts ended in failure, too many lives were lost to the hungry waves, until at last all hope was abandoned.

When the Starfall Continent renamed itself Orlandt and its history fractured into silence, the land beyond the Storm Sea faded into myth.

Now, at last, strangers have come.

Over twenty ironclad warships advanced in a triangular formation, cutting slowly through the cursed waters—the army of the Stellar Empire.

“This… is the Storm Sea!”

Sophia drew a deep breath, as if seeking some long-lost scent upon the wind.

Homecoming stirred tremors in her heart; she and Anya and the others had scarcely slept, their thoughts tethered to the homeland they once fled.

“At our current pace,” said Rowan, gazing ahead, “we’ll reach the Crescent Continent in four or five days after crossing.”

Since ascending to Archmage, all transcendent beings had gained elemental sight and elemental domain.

With elemental sight, Rowan could perceive the world in its purest form—elemental currents, flows of magic, the unseen fabric of existence.

Now, he saw clearly the roiling dark energy rising from the sea’s surface—

the lingering curse of nightmare essence, poisoning these waters for centuries.

Though its strength was fading, Rowan observed, the decay was slow—so slow that even in another hundred years, only a Grand Sorcerer might pass unscathed.

“Tom, send word to Elron. Prepare—we begin our crossing thirty minutes from now.”

“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Tom swiftly mounted a griffin and soared toward Elron’s vessel.

Half an hour later, a warm radiance enveloped every ship—a potent spiritual enchantment shielding all aboard from the sea’s corrupting influence.

The warships surged forward, engines roaring, magical amplifiers igniting, speed doubling in an instant.

Above the waves, the nightmare essence writhed, as if sentient, probing for cracks in the luminous barrier, seeking to seep through and gnaw at minds and souls.

But Elron’s mighty spell held firm, leaving no opening.

Then—a thunderous crash.

A wave rose before them, towering dozens of meters high.

Rowan raised his hand, pressing down through empty air. His vast spiritual force seized the surrounding elements, crushing the wave back into submission.

Seeing this, Sophia felt a pang of emotion.

Their journey here had been agony, paid for in blood and loss.

Now, returning home, it felt effortless.

An hour passed. The fleet pierced through the final shroud of the Storm Sea, emerging as if from mist. The sky brightened, the horizon widened, the air grew clean.

Elron flew over on his griffin.

“My king, I sense turbulent power stirring beneath the seabed. Given time… I believe I can purify it.”

At those words, Sophia and the others stirred with excitement.

“That would be a blessing,” Rowan said with a smile—then added, “but we shall wait until the time is right.”

To cleanse this force would open passage between the Stellar Empire and Dawnlight City—but it would also allow the alien races of the Crescent Continent easier access, bringing chaos to their shores.

Rowan had brought half his elite forces here; he would not risk unrest at home.

Only when the demonic threat was finally eradicated might they consider purifying the Storm Sea.

“Sophia, have Petro set our course. We sail straight for Soulrest Bay.”

“Understood—no problem!”

Petro was a master navigator; it had been he who steered their vessel during their perilous voyage to Wubei Territory long ago.

As for Soulrest Bay—

it lay on the edge of the Dawnlight Forest. A millennium past, it served as the primary port between the two continents.

But now, it belonged to the Nightmare King’s servant—the Shadow Lord Salonas, master of Morpheus.

Originally, Rowan had planned to bypass Soulrest Bay entirely, sailing up the mouth of the Tanyari River, the mother river of Dawnlight City.

Yet news from the Crescent Continent had forced a bolder strategy.

Since becoming Archmage, Rowan’s spiritual awareness could span oceans, touching the distant land.

From Sophia, he learned the layout of the continent’s cities. After many attempts, he finally established contact with Lenn Searles, leader of Dawnlight City.

He remembered how, when fire elementals coalesced before Lenn into the words *Hello*, the man had instantly assumed a defensive stance.

Now, they were confidants—pen pals across the sea.

It was from Lenn that Rowan learned of the growing crisis: twelve years of increasing demonic unrest, escalating recently into full-scale assaults.

Even as Rowan departed, Salonas of Soulrest Bay had allied with Phoenix to seize Bolt Town and Kartago, securing control of the Tanyari River’s estuary.

These were no mere villages—each housed hundreds of thousands.

With both towns captured and the river mouth blocked, Rowan’s original route was cut off.

Thus, direct assault became necessary.

And why strike Salonas’ stronghold directly?

Because in pursuit of greater conquest, Salonas had withdrawn most of his forces, leaving only a skeleton guard at Soulrest Bay.

With Rowan’s strength and troops, taking the bay was feasible.

Not holding it—that would require help.

Lenn would coordinate the attack, reclaiming Bolt Town on the bay’s flank and helping secure the region.

It was a risky move—but the best available.

So many warships on open water—if they delayed landing, Salonas or other alien forces would surely detect them, turning the tide against them.

Moreover, Soulrest Bay was now weakly defended. The remaining legendary and solar-rank Soul Knights could be handled by McKen and the others. Rowan and Rudar wouldn’t even need to draw their blades.

Rowan closed his eyes slowly. His spirit surged outward, racing across the ocean, arriving at Dawnlight City in moments.

Within a radiant dreamscape thick with arcane energy, Lenn Searles, one of humanity’s leaders, sensed the familiar presence.

He opened his eyes and laughed aloud, “You’ve come again, my friend!”

Lenn intended to trace the spiritual thread back to Rowan’s location, to ease their communion.

But before he could find him, the air before him shimmered—elemental currents spiraled, intricate runes forming in flawless succession—and then, Rowan stood there.

Lenn recognized the spell at once: *Phantom Avatar Technique*.

But he never imagined anyone could cast a ninth-tier spell across such a vast distance.

Luo Ning gazed at the elderly man before him—round-bellied, round-faced, with hair as white as frost—and never would have guessed that this was the leader of Dawn City.

He sat down and smiled. "Now that we're closer, I can just about manage this spell. Much easier than forming words from elemental energy across vast distances."

Laine couldn't help but exclaim in admiration: "Even so, you must still be thousands of miles apart. Your spiritual power is even greater than I imagined!"

Inwardly, he weighed the feat—projecting a phantom image over such distance would be no simple task for him. His eyes lingered on Luo Ning's spectral form. If the real body looked like this, then Luo Ning must be quite young.

A youth stronger than himself?

"Where are you now?" Laine asked.

"The Saronas forces are advancing upon our third and fourth outposts," he continued. "The next great battle will erupt within days."

His voice grew grave. "Moreover, the Exiled Lands have recently seen unusually frequent surges of energy. I suspect the King of Nightmares—the one sealed away by our ancestors—is nearing the point of breaking free."

A thousand years ago, despite immense sacrifices among humanity’s strongest, they had only managed to weaken the Nightmare King to the brink of dissolution before sealing it—not destroy it outright.

Over the centuries, it had fed on lingering energies, and through its servants spreading disciples far and wide to gather strength anew. Now, it was growing powerful once more.

Killing it while still bound by the seal would be manageable. But if it broke free on its own, the consequences would be dire.

Luo Ning nodded. "We've crossed the Storm Sea and are now sailing toward Soul Rest Bay. At full speed, we should arrive in about three days."

Laine could not hide his astonishment. "So soon?"

Dawn City possessed a complete legacy of civilization. As its leader, Laine knew well the distance between Crescent Continent and Stellar Continent.

By his estimation, crossing the Storm Sea so swiftly should have been impossible—especially relying solely on magic crystals for propulsion. Such a method was impractical over long stretches.

He hadn’t anticipated that Luo Ning’s vessel ran on steam power.

"This is excellent news, Luo Ning—you’re arriving at precisely the right moment!"

After a moment of surprise, Laine regained his composure, his eyes blazing with fierce battle-lust.

"Those cursed demonfolk—it’s high time we showed them what we’re made of!" (End of Chapter)