Chapter 1185: Traces

Having successfully slain the formidable elemental creature, sealed the spatial rift connecting to the elemental realm, and resolved the crisis facing their team—at least, it had looked pretty dire—the old wizard Modir was visibly excited. This powerful caster, who had just unleashed a dozen or so legendary spells in rapid succession, each with the force of a battleship cannon, was gripping the swordmaster’s hand tightly. The swordsman, who had barely reacted throughout the ordeal, looked like a kid caught off guard by the wizard’s enthusiasm.

It took the swordsman quite a while to finally convince himself that the old wizard wasn’t joking, and that his praise wasn’t sarcastic.

This old man was serious… he really was serious…

“I…” The swordsman tried to pull his hands free from the wizard’s firm grip, but no matter how hard he struggled, his arms wouldn’t budge. His face flushed red as he continued to tug awkwardly, stammering, “I didn’t really help much just now… It was all you who defeated that terrifying opponent…”

The more he spoke, the redder his face grew. Recalling his own “contribution” during the fight, the burly man wasn’t sure how to continue—besides being pushed out into the fray and stunned for a while, his greatest feat was being blasted into the air by a shockwave, which at least added some entertainment value to the battle. If he could rewind time, his only wish was to land on his feet when he fell… How could he even say that out loud?

Modir, however, was completely oblivious to the swordsman’s embarrassment. Still grinning, he held the man’s hands tightly and said modestly, “You’re too humble, young man. That’s not the spirit I expect from you. We all know how much a mage needs protection in battle. If you hadn’t stood in front, I wouldn’t have been able to perform so well…”

Nearby, Lora’s expression was blank. At this point, she didn’t even have the energy to roll her eyes. Inwardly, she couldn’t help but think: Does this terrifying old man really need “protection”? Anyone who could breathe during that fight needed it more than him! Even that fire giant who didn’t breathe looked pitiful and helpless…

But she dared not say this out loud. After carefully choosing her words, she cautiously said, “Mr. Modir… I didn’t expect your strength to be so formidable. A caster as powerful as you has been so low-key until now…”

As she spoke, the young huntress tried to gauge the eccentric wizard’s level from the terrifying spells he had just unleashed. She believed he was at least high-tier… possibly even legendary. But having never encountered a true legend before—not even many high-tier experts—Modir’s power seemed like an unfathomable abyss to her, impossible to measure.

So in the end, all she felt was awe.

“Is that so?” Modir paused at Lora’s words, then chuckled as he stroked his chin (finally releasing the swordsman’s hands). “I don’t really think about being low-key or not. I just do what I enjoy…”

“Those who are strong have the right to choose their own path,” the druid in the group couldn’t help but sigh, then smiled. “In any case, having such a powerful caster among us is the greatest fortune for everyone. If you’re willing to continue operating within the adventurers’ camp, then the safety of Talrond is greatly assured…”

The druid spoke the thoughts of everyone present. Even Lora, whose mind was still a bit scattered, silently agreed. But Modir seemed to be stirred by some vague, fragmented memory. The old wizard frowned, his eyes clouded with confusion as he muttered softly to himself, “I can’t say that… I can’t say that… I can’t be blindly confident just because of my strength… There will be times when you simply can’t win… sometimes you just can’t…”

“Mr. Modir?” Lora noticed something was wrong and cautiously stepped forward, lowering her voice. “Did you remember something? Are you alright?”

“Me? Oh, I’m fine, fine,” Modir snapped out of his daze, blinking hard. Then, with a grateful smile, he looked at Lora. “Sorry, I drifted off for a moment. Thanks for bringing me back. I’m okay, just some vague memories of past lessons flashed through my mind. I seem to have suffered quite a few losses because I trusted my own strength too much and was defeated by stubborn enemies… Unfortunately, the details are fuzzy.”

“Even a powerful caster like you has faced enemies you couldn’t overcome?” Lora’s eyes widened in shock. “And you were defeated… many times?”

Modir shook his head gently. Though his memories were muddled, the experience accumulated over his long life was deeply etched in his mind. “There are all kinds of powerful forces in this world. Among mortals, there are those far stronger than me. Warships and war machines powered by arcane technology, once assembled, can rival any traditional powerhouse. Not to mention the strange beings living in other dimensions, and the gods above us… Remaining humble and cautious is the key to long-term survival. The great pioneer Gawain Cecil once warned: ‘Blind confidence is the first step toward destruction.’ That is one of the maxims I hold most dear.”

Lora’s expression grew thoughtful. Though she had spent some time with Modir, seeing his true strength today and hearing his humble reflections stirred many new feelings within her.

Modir’s attention soon shifted elsewhere. The adventure-loving old man looked up, his gaze falling on the still-smoldering crater nearby, filled with residual energies and waste magic. A joyful smile spread across his face. “Ah, we still haven’t checked our spoils, friends—I thought I’d accidentally destroyed everything, but it seems the elemental lord and the spatial rift left us some good stuff. Take a look at these crystal fragments—are they valuable?”

The adventurers finally refocused on their “real job.” Lora and her companions looked toward the scorched earth not far off. They saw countless blast craters and warped, curled rock layers, scattered with shards of the elemental lord’s remains. Amid the still-burning flames and swirling clouds of residual energy, tiny crystals sparkled like gems at the bottom of the pits, catching the adventurers’ eyes.

…

At the New Agondor City Hall, inside a massive, rugged dark tower, leader Hragor and Speaker Andal sat across from each other at a long table, exchanging glances. A dragonborn warrior stood at attention before them, reporting. Between the two leaders on the table lay several small boxes filled with fragmented crystals.

After a long silence, Speaker Andal finally broke it. The aged black dragon’s expression was strange as he looked at the reporting warrior. “Are you certain? A legendary mage? In the adventurers’ camp?”

“Yes, confirmed. Although we can’t directly ‘test’ the human mage yet, the battlefield cleanup team is certain those were full-power attacks from a legendary caster,” the dragonborn replied seriously. “And even among legendary experts, this mage’s strength should be considered upper-tier.”

“This is very strange,” Andal frowned, turning to Hragor. “A legendary powerhouse, and a highly respected mage in human society, how did he end up in the adventurers’ camp? I heard he registered at the port like any other ordinary adventurer, and until today, he was just helping with tasks like leveling terrain and building town shields… Have you ever seen anything like this?”

“I haven’t had much contact with this season’s human civilization either. My data comes from ‘patrol records’ collected in the Omega Network,” Hragor shook his head. “But regardless, this doesn’t seem like normal behavior for a legendary. Could it be some kind of ‘quirk’ of the mage?”

“If it’s a quirk, then anything’s possible—humans are an incredible species. Their individuals can do all sorts of strange things,” Andal said with a weird expression. “But the mage claims he joined the adventurers out of a passion for adventure. I’m… a bit skeptical. Talrond’s open borders offer more than just adventurer routes. Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to pay extra and become a traveling scholar or tourist rather than working in the adventurers’ camp?”

“We should try to make contact with this human mage when we get the chance, see what his true intentions are,” Hragor nodded. “A caster that powerful shouldn’t be unknown in human society. His name should appear in the old Mithril Vault archives. Unfortunately, our databases were destroyed, and most dragons don’t know much about the Loren Continent…”

“Let’s observe for a few days first. We need to prepare before making contact. After all, he is a legend, and by human standards, a figure worthy of respect. In today’s Talrond, he’s an extremely valuable upper-tier combatant,” Andal said thoughtfully. “For now, this matter can wait. What concerns me more are these crystals.”

His gaze fell on the small boxes on the table. Inside the metal containers, the fragmented crystals glowed faintly like precious gems. Even after cooling for so long and being stored in magically suppressive metal cases, the elemental energy within still occasionally leaked out, sensed by both Andal and Hragor.

“These are the ‘spoils’ sent from the Adventurers’ Management Center, taken from the defeated elemental lord and the destroyed elemental rift,” Andal explained. “They’re high-quality elemental cores—pure and stable. Even in old Talrond, they’d be valuable industrial materials… But that’s not the main point. The key is the residual magical aura within these cores. Do you sense it, Hragor?”

“Yes, very faint but definitely present. It’s a mutation caused by magical corrosion… Such a mutation shouldn’t appear in pure elemental realms,” Hragor nodded, his expression serious. “And this isn’t the first time we’ve found such traces… Three days ago, a northern combat squad closed a suddenly appearing elemental rift and brought back a small amount of cores. Those cores showed similar mutations.”

“So this can’t be the work of that legendary mage’s magic,” Andar said in a low voice as he reached into the container and pulled out a tiny elemental condensate no bigger than a fingernail. The dark red, translucent crystal flickered to life in his hand, its surface flickering with illusory flames and a faint warmth. But as the elder councilor infused it with his mana, the restless energy within the condensate immediately calmed, and after a few flickers, it solidified into a pitch-black stone.

“The change must have come from the other side of the rift—the elemental realm side… just as you said, that place shouldn’t have this kind of magical corrosion.”

“The elemental realm, huh…” Helagor mused thoughtfully. “It’s not just these condensates. The frequency of elemental rifts appearing has actually increased recently…”

Andar fell silent for a moment, deep in thought as he pondered what the residual magical traces in these condensates might mean. After about thirty seconds, he suddenly spoke up: “Helagor, do you get the feeling that the aura carried by this magical corrosion is… somewhat familiar?”

A serious look flashed across Helagor’s eyes. “So you noticed it too. At first, I thought it was just my imagination—after all, it’s so faint…”

“It’s the Deep Blue Well,” Andar said slowly, “the kind unique to the shallow tributaries and the second through sixth layers of its network. I… know this well. You know, before Talrond was completely sealed off, I spent a long time obsessed with tracking the flow of the Deep Blue Well deep within this planet. I observed its various network layers for centuries.”

Helagor’s voice dropped low. “What do you think that means?”

“…I can’t say for sure,” Andar shook his head. “The currents of the Deep Blue Well run through the entire planet, even penetrating multiple realms—from the material world to the Shadow Realm and then the Umbral Realm. Its flow extends to the borders of the Elemental World and the Divine Kingdoms. Its scale far exceeds what we imagined. The dragons once studied the Deep Blue Well, but until the Final Rebellion 1.87 million years ago, we never managed to fully map its network… So I don’t know what lies at the deepest reaches of this vast magical current system, nor do I understand its complete operating principles.

“But one thing I do know: under normal circumstances, the currents of the Deep Blue Well flow in an orderly fashion. As part of the planet’s primordial structure, it never changes its ‘path’ arbitrarily, nor does it suddenly leak, leaving behind so many traces of corrosion in the elemental lords and rifts… At least, that hasn’t happened in the past 1.87 million years.”

“There has been a change,” Helagor reminded him. “According to recent intelligence from the Theocracy Council, seven hundred years ago, a god who protected the Loren Continent triggered an explosion at the Deep Blue Well’s ‘exit’ in the material world to resist the magical tide. That massive blast altered the flow of the Deep Blue Well in the material world—that should be the only change in over a million years.”

Andar nodded slightly, his gaze lingering long on the tiny elemental condensates in the container.

“…Could it be about to blow again?”

(End of chapter)