Buzzing…
At that moment, the teleportation curtain in the Morning Star Domain suddenly flashed with brilliant light.
"They've arrived." Both Orfe and
A soft luminescence enveloped several silhouettes as they materialized. Once the light dissipated, the figures of Leilin and Geoffrey were revealed.
"Lord Orfe, Lord Wade, and Lord Beewis—it's been a long time."
Leilin walked at the front, greeting them with a smile.
"Lord Leilin—have you… have you broken through?" Orfe clenched both fists, visibly emotional.
"I have. I've already reached the sixth level." Leilin smiled, and behind him, a materialized True Spirit of the Sun manifested—a blazing golden flame swept outward, carrying terrifying waves of energy.
"As expected of Dawn Sun-level power." Orfe's eyes blazed even brighter, glistening with tears. "Our organization's decades-long wish has finally been realized. Lord Leilin—no, Your Majesty—you are the pride of our entire Bloodline Alliance!"
Orfe bowed respectfully, followed by Wade, and a somewhat reluctant Beewis.
"Your Majesty? Has my title been raised again?" Leilin found it rather amusing and raised a hand to help Orfe and the others to their feet.
Within the Bloodline Warlock Alliance, the system of noble titles seemed quite popular: third-level warlocks held the rank of Marquis, fourth-level Morning Stars held the rank of Duke, and fifth-level Radiant Moons held the rank of King. Now that Leilin had advanced to sixth-level warlock, he had become a Warlock Emperor—hence the address of "Your Majesty."
"What a ridiculous form of address. Wouldn't that mean if Beewis advances in the future, the Warlock Alliance would end up with two 'Your Majesties'?"
Leilin amusedly imagined that scenario.
"A thousand five hundred and fifty-seven years… a full one thousand five hundred and fifty-seven years! The throne of our Bloodline Warlocks has finally appeared. I just never expected it would be Your Majesty Leilin."
Wade added from the side, causing Beewis's expression to dim.
At present, he was still a fifth-level warlock. Facing Leilin, he had no power to resist whatsoever and could only bow respectfully in submission.
No matter what schemes he'd had before, in the face of absolute strength, they were all as fragile as spider webs—one light brush and they vanished without a trace.
"But I can do it too. A hundred years at most, and soon…"
At that moment, Leilin's gaze passed over Orfe and Wade and settled on Beewis.
"Lord Beewis."
"Here." Beewis tried his best to make his smile look natural, but he failed miserably. His twisted expression made everyone want to laugh.
"The Mist Giant bloodline in your body, amplified by those other giant remains, is only eighty-seven years away from full maturity. Work hard. When the time comes, your probability of advancing to the sixth level will be 65.1 percent."
Leilin spoke with a faint smile, his gaze seeming to see right through Beewis.
"How does he know that?" Beewis looked up in shock. The Mist Giant remains he'd obtained from Orfe had always been his last hope and trump card. He never expected Leilin to see through it with a single glance.
"Is the gap between us really that vast?"
Seeing that the other seemed to know his own bloodline and advancement probability even better than he did, the blow to Beewis's confidence was nothing short of devastating.
Only now did he realize that everything he'd done before had been nothing more than the antics of a clown—utterly laughable.
"Lord Leilin."
After welcoming Leilin and the others into the headquarters, Orfe and the rest watched Leilin sit down while they stood ramrod straight, their expressions solemn.
"Mm. My visit to the Central Continent this time is mainly for relocating the Ring of the Ouroboros and handling a few other matters. In the future, I may settle there permanently."
For Leilin, the surface
"Relocating? Settling permanently? Is this about the underground trade? I've heard something of it, but Your Majesty, please hear me out—although we warlocks rely on bloodline power, the elemental concentration of the South Coast still has some bearing on us…"
Orfe and the others looked anxious.
They had waited so long for a sixth-level Bloodline Throne to appear, hoping to finally make their presence felt on the Central Continent. How could they just let Leilin leave? Were they supposed to wait another hundred years for Beewis?
Reading their expressions, Leilin knew exactly what they were thinking, but he didn't call them out on it.
"Don't worry. I know what you're concerned about. Before I leave, I'll have this matter settled."
Leilin waved his hand dismissively. Although Orfe and the others still seemed somewhat dissatisfied and wanted to say something, Geoffrey silenced them with the sternest of looks.
After Leilin left, Geoffrey was immediately surrounded by Orfe and the rest.
"What's going on? Why did you stop us?" Orfe asked very calmly. After so long together, he knew Geoffrey's character inside and out and was certain the man had his reasons.
"The shock Leilin gave me was too great, and the cross-continental communication had a delay, so I couldn't tell you about the latest developments…"
Geoffrey wore a bitter smile. "Lord Leilin is no ordinary sixth-level Throne. He has already become an existence that we can only look up to…"
…
Subsequently, a piece of shocking news began spreading across the entire Central Continent.
A Royal warlock of the Bloodline Alliance, Lord Leilin Farell, had crossed the threshold of the Dawn Sun and entered the realm of sixth-level warlock.
The Bloodline Throne exclusive to warlocks had risen over the Central Continent like a blazing sun. The waves and undercurrents it stirred were beyond imagination.
Shortly after, the Morning Star Domain confirmed the news and invited other powers to attend Leilin's ceremony.
Numerous major wizard factions—even several of the great Thrones—announced they would attend in person to bear witness for Leilin.
In an instant, the Phosphorescent Swamp once again became the focal point of the Central Continent. Virtually every wizard was involuntarily discussing the matter and what impact it would bring to the Central Continent.
"What?" The parchment document in Wells's hand fell to the ground. "How is this possible? He's already advanced to the sixth level, becoming an existence on par with the Sky Throne? How long has it been?"
"The Sky Throne has accepted his invitation and confirmed personal attendance. The credibility is very high—this is reality now. You must learn to adapt and accept, my child."
A middle-aged wizard who bore some resemblance to Wells spoke with resignation.
He naturally knew what a devastating blow this would be to Wells, who considered himself a genius. His meager accomplishments were nothing before Leilin.
That terrifying individual's rate of advancement was enough to drive every genius on the Central Continent to despair and collapse.
"Living in the same era as him is your greatest misfortune—and your greatest fortune. I hope you can step out of his shadow."
The middle-aged man looked at Wells, unconcealed worry in his eyes.
"I'm going too. I want to see just how far he's left me behind." Wells clenched his teeth, his face full of stubborn determination.
"Alas… you…" The middle-aged man sighed helplessly.
…
The Royal City of Duze. The previous ruins had been rebuilt. Under the Fire Throne's command, a massive workforce of laborers had poured in two hundred percent effort, restoring the former ruins in an incredibly short time. The Sacred Fire burned once more, representing the Fire Throne's power and majesty.
Within the royal city, inside a massive conflagration, a crimson-gold flame core blazed with scorching heat, even causing the surrounding buildings to show signs of melting.
This phenomenon persisted for nearly several hours before a slender figure finally emerged from the inferno.
She wore a crimson cloak and atop her head sat a delicate crown of flames—it was none other than
"Over the course of several years, consuming vast quantities of precious materials and the energy of Dream Elf Stones, I've finally restored about eighty percent of my soul…"
Melinda's arm had not only regrown, but her aura had been stabilized at the sixth level.
"Leilin Farell… you really are a surprising fellow."
Melinda's expression was complicated. Last time she'd succeeded in her revenge, she owed it partly to his help. But it was also he who had struck ruthlessly at her most critical moment, causing devastating losses that she had only now recovered from.
"Already advanced to the sixth level? How interesting. Neither the shackles of bloodline nor the Mother of Ten Thousand Serpents could stop you?"
As an ancient monster privy to numerous secrets of antiquity, Melinda naturally understood what it meant to break through the bloodline shackles—this was power on par with the very essence of bloodlines themselves.
"It seems this time I won't just fail to take my revenge—I'll have to try to repair the relationship between us."
Melinda licked her lips, a smile of rich implication playing across her face.
"That newly captured little one makes for quite a nice gift."
*Snap.* At Melinda's will, a small fire sprite appeared before her.
"Great Master, please deliver your instructions."
The sprite knelt on one knee, its expression humble and reverent.
"That newly captured witch—they call her
"Your will shall be carried out." The sprite spread its flame wings behind its back and swiftly vanished through the doorway.
"The ceremony, hmm? I'm rather looking forward to it."
Melinda let out a delicate laugh, and the flames throughout the entire great hall surged several times in intensity, as though threatening to incinerate the very sky.
In that moment, undercurrents surged across the entire Central Continent. Countless existences turned their gaze toward the Phosphorescent Swamp.