Chapter 79: The Uncrowned God

Victoria, dressed in a violet gown, emerged from between several crimson trees. She carefully surveyed the open expanse before her; only when she was certain nothing was amiss did she, despite the pain from her wounds, stagger toward the emerald-green hill ahead.

As she drew closer, she immediately spotted a cave at the base of the hill and halted, scrutinizing the area once more before making her way toward the entrance. After thorough observation, she determined this cave to be a relatively ideal sanctuary; thus, she decided to enter and tend to her injuries.

She had only taken a few steps when she noticed clear signs of recent combat: the ground was strewn with shattered stones and claw marks, and the remains of what looked like giant wasps—broken limbs and tattered wings—were scattered everywhere. Instantly alert, she cast a water-based detection spell, meticulously sweeping the area within several dozen meters. Only when she was certain there was no danger did she edge cautiously to the cave’s mouth, then amplified her detection magic to its fullest as she stepped inside.

After a careful inspection, Victoria found nothing threatening within. She returned to the entrance, dampened a pile of rocks with a water spell, then sealed the cave with them and locked the barrier tight with ice magic. This not only concealed the entrance but made it nearly impossible to break through—even for a level four or five magical beast. Finally, she left a few small holes to allow air inside before retreating deeper into the cave.

During her probing, she had sensed an area dense with darkness and fire elements at the cave’s deepest part. As an ice mage specializing in a water-based discipline, she naturally avoided the fire-suffused zone, choosing instead to settle just outside the area thick with darkness elements to begin her healing.

Meanwhile, in the small chamber at the top of the Mishus Grand Hall, the gray-robed Mishus was recounting his journey in mastering spatial energy.

It turned out that not long after he began training as a mage, he discovered an unusual energy within himself—an inky-black spatial energy. He realized that when casting dark magic, he could not manipulate this mysterious force, which prompted him to begin his investigation into spatial energy. Unfortunately, he could find no useful information and was forced to set aside his research for the time being.

When he reached the pinnacle of the Saint domain and saw no hope of ascending to godhood, he turned his efforts once again to the study of spatial energy. With his formidable power at the time, there were few places on the continent he could not go—save for a handful of forbidden zones—so his ability to gather information far surpassed what it had been in his youth.

Yet even after scouring nearly the entire continent, he found only scraps and fragments about spatial energy; no one had ever systematically studied it, likely because so few possessed it in the first place.

Undeterred, he began experimenting based on the scant clues he had uncovered. During the “competition” between his two souls, he somehow managed, step by step, to devise a method for cultivating spatial energy. After no less than eight centuries, he finally succeeded.

Rowling could not help but sigh in wonder. “If Mishus hadn’t possessed two souls, relentlessly driving each other to research day and night, he could never have discovered a way to cultivate spatial energy.”

“When I finally succeeded,” Mishus said, his eyes shining, “I fought a great battle with Aragon, who had already become a god. Though I was not his match, spatial energy allowed me to withdraw unscathed—he could do nothing to stop me.”

Rowling was truly stunned. Aragon—the Martial God of ten millennia past—had single-handedly unified the continent, founded the Aragon Empire, and left his name forever engraved in history. Even now, the annual Martial God Festival at year’s end was held in his honor.

To think that Mishus had once faced the Martial God and, with nothing but the power of a Saint, managed to escape unscathed from a deity—relying solely on spatial energy. At this thought, Rowling’s anticipation for the strand of inky spatial energy within himself grew; if he could master it as well, he too would soar to unimaginable heights.

Noticing the yearning in Rowling’s eyes, Mishus nodded in satisfaction. “Indeed, it was precisely because my greatest accomplishments were in alchemy and spatial energy that, before my death, I set these three trials—to select someone capable of perfectly inheriting both my legacies.”

“As for the area dense with darkness and fire elements near the cave entrance—you’ve probably guessed it—it was set to 'attract' mages who possess both attributes. To pass the first test of alchemy, one must have both.”

“And the reason I forbid anyone who comes here from spreading word of the Mishus Sanctuary is because within it lies an unimaginably vast treasure. I wish to leave it to my true heir. If word got out and the gods learned of it, they would surely seize it for themselves!” Mishus revealed yet another astonishing truth.

Rowling swallowed hard—he had not expected Mishus’s hoard to contain things even the gods would covet. No wonder Mishus, who could escape a god’s grasp and possessed treasures worthy of envy even among the divine, was called the “Uncrowned God.”

Seeing Rowling’s gaze fixed on the massive cabinet behind him, Mishus’s usually impassive face showed a rare hint of amusement. “Very well, I shall bestow all my treasures upon you.”

At these words, Rowling’s heart pounded with excitement. What kind of legacy would this Mishus, who rivaled the gods, leave him?

“The first treasure,” Mishus said, stopping before the cabinet, “is the Blood Sovereign Elixir you already drank. Its value, I’m sure, you’ve come to understand.”

Rowling nodded eagerly. In nearly two months of training in the Maya Mountains, he had become acutely aware of the physical frailty of mages. There were spells to bolster his defenses, but in many instances, he was attacked by magical beasts before he could even react—danger was ever-present. He had begun to envy the martial artists, but their training was far from simple, and his own constitution was too weak.

Yet the Blood Sovereign Elixir had resolved this problem, remaking his body entirely. Now he need only follow the secret techniques to continue his cultivation. Such a miraculous potion was worthy of being the first treasure in Mishus’s hoard.

But Mishus’s eyes gleamed as he added, “In fact, the Blood Sovereign Elixir offers another, even greater benefit beyond simply making you a martial artist.”