Chapter 516 |
“Three hundred years…” Adam couldn’t help but sigh as the fleet prepared for its final jump back toward the Mage World.
Even though he’d known from the start that the Cataclysm Zone campaign would be a protracted war, he had never imagined that he would remain on the frontlines for nearly three centuries. That was longer than the total time it had taken him to rise from a mere apprentice to a Super Dimensional Mage.
“It was actually short,” Nehem said with a chuckle. “Wars nowadays are much easier than they used to be. When we first gained the ability to leave our planes, even the simplest planar conquest would take several hundred years to complete. If the Cataclysm Zone War had taken place in that era… even assuming we could win, it would’ve taken tens of thousands of years. The longest one I ever experienced took three thousand years just to breach a single plane.”
For long-lived beings like mages, time carried little weight—but Adam still couldn’t imagine enduring a campaign that stretched across millennia.
He shook off the thought, and by the time he refocused, the two had already arrived beyond the boundary of the Mage World.
Thanks to the total victory in the Cataclysm Zone War, countless high-quality planes had been sacrificed to fuel the world’s growth. For three hundred years, the Mage World had been in a state of massive mana tides, expanding and evolving.
The results were obvious—the Mage World was visibly larger than when Adam had departed. Many new sub-worlds orbited along its outer trajectory, teeming with powerful lifeforms that hadn’t existed before.
At that moment, a vast gateway opened across the world’s crystal wall system. Adam recognized it as a ceremonial portal—welcoming Nehem’s return.
Most True Spirit Mages achieved their ascension within the Mage World itself. It was rare for one, like Nehem, to ascend in the midst of war. The emergence of a new True Spirit was no small event—it was cause for grand celebration, to raise morale among the mages and awe their vassals and servants alike.
After greeting him, Adam entered the world ahead. Though he appeared relaxed after returning from the war, in truth, he was busier than ever. Beyond processing his own war merits, the most critical task before him was determining how to manage and utilize the Heavenly Dao.
Seven days later, having settled his affairs, Adam received a summons from Croft.
“This thing is, in essence, an alchemical artifact,” Croft said.
In an isolated dimension within the Inner World—one created jointly by several True Spirits—the Heavenly Dao floated silently in midair.
“Even an ordinary mortal, if they were to obtain this, could wield the power of the Immortal Dao,” Croft continued, tapping lightly on its surface. At once, countless streams of immortal radiance flared forth. “Its function is remarkably potent. If placed within an empty plane, it would rapidly generate a new Da Luo Heaven.”
The Primordial Heavenly Sovereign had refined his own origin according to the methods used to forge divine artifacts. The Heavenly Dao was the material manifestation of the Dao of Primordial Origin itself. It was immensely powerful—but utterly incompatible with the Mage World’s own Source.
“The two are fundamentally at odds,” Croft explained. “The Heavenly Dao is too complete—so complete that it’s lost all potential for further evolution. Worse, it tends to assimilate anything still capable of change, forcing it into its own immutable pattern. Attempting to fuse it with the Mage World’s Source would cause more harm than good.”
Croft then asked, “What do you think about embedding it in your Virtual World project?”
Over the past three centuries, the Virtual World had become fully mature. A large portion of mages—those introverted or averse to social interaction—now spent much of their lives within it.
Whether for virtual communication, simulations, trials, or the endlessly inventive games and dungeons created by other mages, the Virtual World had become inseparable from their daily existence.
The most significant module—the Third Epoch Instance—had, thanks to the flood of data from the Cataclysm Zone, evolved into a fully simulated Third Epoch World complete with its own history and ecosystem. But as participation surged, the in-game NPCs had become far too weak. After all, the power systems derived from Qianyuan Realm martial samples could only reach the eighth level at best.
The instance urgently needed an upgrade—a new expansion.
Adam replied, “I think it’s an excellent idea. But the Heavenly Dao is a conceptual construct—a manifestation of the Primordial Heavenly Sovereign’s personal law. If it’s integrated into the Virtual World as the new Third Epoch engine, the simulation would become a real world. That’s a serious risk.”
No matter what Primordial’s intentions had been, his essence remained that of a Super-Void Lifeform. The Heavenly Dao, as his rule embodiment, was inherently attuned to the Third Epoch. Its inclusion would inevitably give rise to Level Nine entities within the instance—beings that could very well transcend fiction and attain real conceptual existence.
Croft smiled. “Your concern is reasonable. But it’s not beyond our ability to handle. As for the algorithmic integration, I don’t understand the details—but I doubt there’s anyone in the entire Mage World who understands it better than you. So… is it possible?”
“It is,” Adam nodded. “It’s not as difficult as you imagine. But I think the Heavenly Dao can serve another purpose as well.”
Croft gave him a curious look.
“Immortal artifacts differ from our alchemical products,” Adam explained. “They don’t require the user to possess much personal power.”
Croft nodded thoughtfully. Indeed, while Immortal Dao cultivation offered little beyond theoretical insight for mages, their artifact-crafting techniques held real value—it could trigger a massive leap in the Mage World’s alchemical science.
“You’re aware of my Magitek Construct line,” Adam continued. “If we modify those constructs using the Immortal method of artifact refinement—and then integrate an internal system with the Heavenly Dao as its master server—we can solve the issue of ordinary people being unable to wield advanced magitek. If we can do that, the mortals of the Mage World will gain far greater value.”
This was an idea Adam had conceived long ago but set aside due to other responsibilities. Now, however, he realized how perfectly the Heavenly Dao, Immortal artifacts, and Magitek Constructs complemented one another. The technical challenge that had once seemed insurmountable was suddenly trivial.
And the potential profit was staggering.
Three centuries might not mean much to mages, but for mortals, it spanned countless generations. On the Academy Continent, humanity’s physical and intellectual standards had risen dramatically. Their hunger for transcendence had only grown.
If they discovered a way to acquire power rivaling that of a mage apprentice—without the need for innate talent—they would be willing to pay any price.