Chapter 97: Is It Too Late?

“Seven is dead. Do you feel it?”

“I feel it. His power has diminished. Let him be dead; we are immortal, after all. What has he been up to lately?”

“He was playing in that human kingdom, the one called Alastair.”

“What’s the point in that? The dwarves and elves haven’t even started their war yet. He should have come to help me instead.”

“Why are you so obsessed with making those two races fight? They have absolutely nothing to do with each other. Why do you always want to stir up trouble between them?”

“I don’t know, but I find it amusing. One lives in the trees, the other in the dirt. Don’t you think it would be chaotic and interesting to see birds and moles tear each other apart?”

“I suppose so. Then why don’t you make those behemoths in the Endless Sea crawl onto land and fight the things there? Wouldn’t that be even more fun?”

“We can’t afford to provoke that giant octopus beneath the Endless Sea. If you wake him up, all seven of us might truly perish.”

“Fair enough. When you put it that way, it does sound interesting. I’ll find some time to help you then. The corruption stuff is getting boring anyway. The things I wanted to gestate are ready; I just need to wait a year to see what happens to those druids of Solenson.”

“Fine. I’ll come find you then, Three.”

“No problem, Five.”

Somewhere in the rift between void and reality, within the mental space of some unfortunate soul, a burning landscape existed abruptly amidst an endless, pitch-black void. On the cracked, charred ground sat an exquisite, high-end round table.

Two figures in suits, their faces obscured, sat at either end of the table, engaged in a conversation that defied ordinary imagination.

“Seven’s death isn’t all bad. We can reclaim a portion of his power before he resurrects.” Three raised his wine glass and took a delicate sip. The liquid inside was a translucent, crimson vintage, but a closer look revealed semi-transparent human faces swimming and wailing within, their expressions twisted in agony.

“Then take my share as well. I don’t have much use for it, and since you’re coming to help me, consider it your payment.” Five waved a hand, seemingly uninterested in Seven’s power.

“Don’t be so lazy, though I suppose I’ll accept it. Wait…” Three chided Five with a smile, then prepared to retrieve the power that belonged to all seven of them from the fallen devil.

“What is it?” Five asked, puzzled by Three’s hesitation.

“I can’t feel Seven’s power anymore. His existence… it has been erased. He… he seems truly dead.” Three’s tone was laced with disbelief. He could no longer sense anything connected to Seven; it was as if Seven had been completely wiped from the world, leaving nothing behind.

“What?” Five, skeptical, began to probe for traces of Seven, but there was nothing—absolutely nothing left.

“He… he really has been completely erased. What could have done this? It couldn’t have been that giant octopus. What on earth…” Three’s voice trembled. It was precisely because they were immortal that the seven of them could act with such reckless abandon.

But now… one of them had been utterly erased. Not a false death that could be undone, but a true death that obliterated everything.

“This…” Five was equally stunned and bewildered. They themselves didn’t even know what in this world could possibly erase them.

“Could it be… One?” Three mused, voicing his suspicion.

“…It’s possible. She fused with the power of the demons. While she is no longer truly immortal, she is the most unique among us,” Five replied.

“What was she doing last?”

“Seemed to be studying that peculiar Ryder family.”

“And Seven died there too?”

“Yes.”

“…”

“…”

The two devils fell into silence. The place where void and reality intersected sank back into an eternal, deathly stillness.

…

“Tsk.” Standing in the mental space that had been reduced to a scorched purgatory, Wang Yu scanned what should have been an endless lake, feeling somewhat numb.

Great. This mental space, now completely blanketed in hellfire, was likely ruined. His half-baked wizardry was probably no longer even worth the name.

Hellfire raged, leaving only charred earth and flames where Wang Yu stood. Though he felt no pain from the fire, he could sense that his space was saturated; he could no longer channel any void energy into it.

Even though he had pinned that devil to the ground and beaten him into nothingness, the damn thing had left this mess behind, effectively crippling his path as a wizard…

Honestly, how could such disgusting beings exist? Wang Yu truly felt the world would be a better place without devils, mind flayers, or the Lord of Undying. These wretched things were nothing but a source of irritation.

Just as Wang Yu shook his head and prepared to withdraw from his mental space, he noticed the flames undergoing a rapid transformation. They began to shrink, centering on the spot where he had beaten Seven into ashes.

The flames gathered swiftly. As they receded, the scorched earth reverted to the brick-like floor of the lakebed, and Wang Yu felt the space become usable once more.

“Well, that’s a good thing.” Wang Yu couldn’t fathom what was happening, but if he could use his wizard powers again, that was a win.

The flames converged faster, the surrounding charred earth rapidly restoring itself to its original state. At the focal point, the concentrated fire grew, forming a blinding, dazzling orb of light.

Wang Yu stared at the orb. He still didn’t know what it was—a remnant of the dead devil?

Suddenly, the orb pulsed. The piece, roughly the size of a fist, split into two parts—one large, one small, in a ratio of about two to one. The smaller one suddenly took flight, shooting toward the sky.

“Snap!” Wang Yu’s hand intercepted the orb. No matter how it struggled, the small orb could not escape his grasp.

He didn’t know what it was, but things left behind by pests should either be destroyed or put to use; he certainly wasn’t going to let it get away.

As for how to handle it? Wang Yu was well-versed in this. He gripped the smaller orb, picked up the larger one, and walked a few steps through the restored space to his doorframe, tossing them inside.

Upon entering the frame, the two orbs disintegrated instantly. Some parts dissipated entirely, while others lingered. The remnants fused together, and a flame, green-tinged within a red core, burned silently behind the doorframe.

“Pure hellfire?” Wang Yu rubbed his chin, but he had no time to ponder what this was. There were more important matters to attend to.

His consciousness detached from the mental space. Though the time spent inside was brief in reality, Wang Yu didn’t have much time left.

He remembered the location of the summoning circle Penia had pointed out before the devil discovered her. Below—was it down there? Looking at the shattered architecture, Wang Yu knew he had to pick up the pace.

“Sacrifices. That’s what all demon summoning circles require. Not as an offering to anyone, but because the ritual itself demands sentient beings with souls…” Wang Yu recited the knowledge he had gleaned from Night’s Edge.

Opening a gate to the hell plane required immense power. While a circle driven by magic could indeed open a rift to summon demons, the resulting magical fluctuations would be impossible to hide.

Essentially, if one completed the circle at one end of the royal city, apprentice mages at the other end would feel the massive surge of magic. Thus, summoning demons via magic alone was virtually impossible.

Sacrifices, therefore, became a superior substitute. The souls of sentient beings held power; it was because of their souls that different races evolved their unique traits. Otherwise, the elves, who could reproduce using trees, would have long ago drowned out other races with their sheer numbers.

No one had yet discovered the source of soul energy, but the method to extract it was known. The most effective way was through extreme emotion—joy or agony—which caused the soul to fluctuate violently, releasing a surge of energy.

Many scholars speculated that this soul energy was why those prone to extreme emotions often attracted the gaze of the void, though this remained a mere hypothesis.

The secondary method was crushing the soul. Directly shattering the soul of a sentient being also yielded energy, though it was less efficient than extreme emotion. The ancient goblins’ ultimate power source was known as the Soul Furnace; its mechanism was self-evident, and it was precisely this device that had led to their extinction.

As for demon summoning circles, given the nature of demons and devils, they would undoubtedly choose the most extreme path: torturing the soul. Not only did it yield energy, but it also gratified them.

Connecting this to what Edward said about the missing poor from the city wall district, it was easy to guess where they had gone. Sacrifices. With this many, what exactly were they trying to summon? Was this a plan of the Seuwentans? He didn’t know…

To move such a large number of people underground, there had to be an entrance…

Wang Yu pondered. To move that many people without drawing the attention of other districts, it had to be done quickly. They couldn’t have spent time excavating a new tunnel. An entrance to the underground…

“The sewers!” The answer hit him instantly. The wall district was on the edge of the city, and the sewer outlets were mostly in that area. Moving a large number of poor people in wouldn’t be too difficult.

“Why is it always the sewers?” He felt a sense of resignation. Everyone loved to scurry into the sewers like rats—disgusting, acting as if they were rats themselves.

Wang Yu intended to rush there, but hesitated. It would take over ten minutes to run there without the help of the rift, and then there was the infiltration and investigation—who knew how long that would take?

“Fine, I’ll risk it. They should reimburse me for this, right?” Considering the operating principle of the Reality Stabilization Spear, a bold idea formed, though he hesitated when he thought of the cost…

“Whatever. A demon summoning circle is more troublesome. I’ll just get Father Fang to reimburse me.” Wang Yu hardened his heart, ignored the consequences, and rushed to the side of the Reality Stabilization Spear. He scanned the area with a ripple of energy, finding a concealed maintenance hatch.

He pried open the only non-integrated panel, revealing the core of the Reality Stabilization Spear—a high-precision magical core. A vast array of runes and expensive materials formed the most critical component of the spear.

It projected countless streams of magical information into the surrounding reality, making it incredibly complex and precise to prevent any distortion from the void.

The price for this terrifying effect was a massive amount of energy. This tiny core was, in his past life, on the level of the Arc Reactor from the movies.

“Tsk, it’s a good thing this thing is stable, or I wouldn’t dare touch it.” Wang Yu said this, but his hands were doing something entirely different. He scanned the complex magical rune structure with his energy ripples, his head throbbing at the sheer density of it.

"What did Avia say? To short-circuit the energy, one simply needs to connect the beginning to the end." Wang Yu exhaled. He did not need to understand the mechanics; all he needed was for the damn thing to explode, which was simple enough—not unlike the work of a bomb disposal expert, only in reverse: where they sought to prevent a blast, he craved one.

"Found it." With a swift, practiced hand, Wang Yu reached inside and bridged the two rune-etched metal plates. Instantly, the reality stabilization spear emitted a frantic alarm; the low, humming vibration and the strobing crimson light signaled that the device was spiraling out of control.

Turning on his heel without a moment’s hesitation, Wang Yu sprinted with everything he had. He had no idea how powerful the blast would be, but the inclusion of a warning system suggested there was just enough time to get clear.

After a minute of relentless running, a thunderous roar erupted behind him. He glanced back, the blinding glare forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut as a miniature mushroom cloud bloomed at the site of the reality anchor.

"At least this thing isn't radioactive," he muttered. Once the blast subsided, Wang Yu turned and charged back toward the epicenter; the force was more than enough to breach the earth.

Returning to the scene, he found the already dilapidated structures reduced to fine powder. The shockwave had leveled everything in the vicinity into a layer of dust.

Near the center, a massive crater had opened, and as the reality anchor’s suppression of the void vanished, the atmosphere from beneath the pit began to seep out.

A growing, concentrated malice, the increasingly pungent stench of sulfur, and a fissure—slowly rising from the depths like a vent for magma, spilling forth a tide of liquid fire...

"Damn it, was I too slow?" Wang Yu’s expression darkened.

In the distance, Edward, who had been waiting with a large contingent of city guards and mercenaries for word from Wang Yu, saw the mushroom cloud rise above the city walls, followed immediately by the spatial rift to the hellish plane unfolding in the sky.

"It's too late..." Edward’s face mirrored Wang Yu’s despair.

……

The Abyss-Dweller's Reach, an absolute prison isolated from the world, where Zieg and Shuguin walked along corridors paved with anti-magic stone.

Suddenly, the Professor recalled something and fished a small slip of paper from his pocket.

"I just remembered that Charles said he had a little something for me. I’d completely forgotten about it until now; let’s have a look."

"What kind of nonsense is that clumsy fellow from the Ryder family pulling now? Another poem mocking you?"

"Who knows? It’s usually quite amusing, actually. Haha." Zieg unfolded the note with a smile.

"!" However, the smile froze instantly upon his face.