Secrets of Dark Magic!
Zorath the Silent and Bloodshadow's eyes lit up before they nodded thoughtfully.
Though the Tower of Ghostflame was merely a third-rate force among dark-winged mage factions, it had stood firm on the continent for centuries—even outlasting ancient magical families like the Reynolds. An organization of this caliber undoubtedly held unique treasures.
Thus, both Zorath and Bloodshadow were brimming with anticipation.
After all, the Tower Lord had been their peer in strength. Such a powerhouse surely hoarded valuable possessions.
Bloodshadow smirked coldly. In a flash, his blade erupted with combat aura, effortlessly cleaving through several tenth-tier dark mages who dared obstruct their path. None could withstand a single strike from him, starkly illustrating the chasm between top-tier eleventh-tier experts and mere tenth-tier combatants.
With Bloodshadow's cleanup, only ninth-tier dark mages remained—easy prey for the Shadow Hall's elites. The rest required no further attention from Kael's group.
"Let's go." Bloodshadow grinned, his blade mysteriously untainted by blood despite the carnage.
"I'm still far from reaching the pinnacle of the eleventh tier. In a direct confrontation with Bloodshadow, my chances would be slim." Kael observed Bloodshadow's ruthless efficiency, his respect deepening. Such warriors demanded absolute vigilance.
The Tower's interior grew more enigmatic as they ventured deeper. Little Kitten, perched on Kael's shoulder, scanned their surroundings but found nothing amiss—for now.
"Damn it, what kind of twisted experiments was that Tower Lord conducting? This place reeks of death!" Zorath the Silent grumbled, visibly irritated. He wasn't wrong—the deeper they went, the more oppressive the sinister aura became, unsettling even the stalwart.
Kael, however, remained unshaken. Perhaps due to his lightning magic's purifying nature, the malevolent energy slid off him like water.
Soon, they reached the Tower Lord's personal spire.
Any mage worth their salt would store their most prized possessions within their sanctum.
Upon entering, Kael's eyes narrowed. The spacious hall was a alchemist's dream—crowded with meticulously arranged equipment, every tool recognizable (and some beyond even Kael's knowledge). The setup rivaled Old Ethan's legendary workshop, leaving the trio momentarily speechless.
Zorath the Silent chuckled. "So the Tower Lord was an alchemy fanatic. These tools are rare finds—shame I know nothing about the craft. Either of you want them?"
The alchemical equipment on this floor was priceless, invaluable only to those skilled in the art. To others, it was mere decoration. Both Bloodshadow and Kael shook their heads.
"We likely won't need them," Kael said. "But if Master Ethan saw this, he'd lose his mind with excitement..."
Zorath's eyes sparkled as he clapped his hands. "Right! I'd forgotten about that old coot. Kael, pack these up for him!" Zorath and Ethan shared a close friendship, and the thought of gifting them to his old comrade delighted him.
Kael smiled. "Agreed." With a wave, he stored the entire alchemy set into his spatial ring.
The first floor held nothing else of note. Once Kael secured the equipment, the trio ascended to the second level.
Typically, the higher the floor, the more valuable the treasures. This spire had seven tiers—promising ample rewards.
"Strong magical fluctuations..." Little Kitten murmured as they neared the second floor, her ears twitching.
Kael extended his spiritual sense, immediately detecting the pulsating energy. The three quickened their pace, stepping into a vast library—rows upon rows of shelves, each crammed with tomes of arcane knowledge!
Hundreds of bookshelves stood in perfect order, each divided into three layers holding dozens of volumes. Thousands of spellbooks filled the chamber!
"So many grimoires..."
Zorath and Bloodshadow sighed in unison. As warriors, magic texts were useless to them. But this was inevitable—the Tower Lord was a mage. Finding combat manuals here would've been stranger.
Kael, curious, stepped forward and picked up one of the books to skim through. His expression immediately shifted slightly.
Noticing the change, Bloodshadow asked, "Brother Kael, what's wrong?"
"These books document dark-winged mage knowledge!" Kael exhaled sharply, then flipped through a few more nearby volumes—all of them, without exception, contained records of dark magic.
"Every book here must be about dark magic," Kael concluded.
The key difference between dark magic and conventional magic was that dark magic was far easier to master. While mastering a standard spell might take considerable time and effort, dark magic could be learned almost effortlessly. However, it came with a fatal flaw—it corroded the caster's mind, amplifying their darkest impulses and gradually twisting their personality into something cruel and ruthless. This was why dark magic was forbidden across the Three Continents.
Hearing Kael's words, both Zorath the Silent and Bloodshadow frowned. There were thousands of books here—all on dark magic!
Kael shrugged, his gaze drifting away from the tomes with a quiet sigh.
Dark magic held an irresistible allure for any mage. Imagine an average practitioner struggling with conventional spells—only to suddenly discover a path to effortless, devastating power...
It was a deadly temptation.
Like a drug, once tasted, it was nearly impossible to resist.
In ancient times, dark-winged mages had even summoned abyssal undead in their pursuit of ultimate power, plunging the Three Continents into a century of chaos.
As Kael set the book down, a question struck him: Why did the Book of Immortalitycontain no records of dark magic at all? He shook his head, puzzled.
Given that the Book of Immortality was said to encompass all arcane knowledge, it was strange that not a single mention of dark magic existed within its pages.
Meanwhile, Zorath and Bloodshadow continued browsing the shelves. After a long silence, Zorath sighed. "Damn it, these really are all dark magic tomes. The Tower of Ghostflame's collection is terrifyingly vast. We can't let these books spread—who knows how many mages would succumb to their lure?"
Kael nodded grimly. Zorath was absolutely right.
"Zorath the Silent, take these dark magic tomes back to the Sacred Council," Kael suggested. These books were useless to him, and if they ever leaked into the Three Continents, they would undoubtedly cause chaos. Handling them with caution was paramount—entrusting them to the Grand Speaker was the wisest choice.
Zorath the Silent hesitated. Part of him wanted to destroy the books outright, but after a moment, he nodded. "Fine. Let the boss deal with this..."
With that, he packed away every last dark magic tome, leaving the second floor completely barren.
Bloodshadow shrugged. "Let's move. The third floor awaits."
The trio ascended to the spire's next level. The moment they stepped inside, Kael sucked in a sharp breath, while Zorath and Bloodshadow's eyes widened slightly.
For these three to react so strongly, whatever lay before them was far from ordinary.
The third floor was a macabre gallery of corpses—dozens of lifeless bodies, all belonging to creatures from the Abyssal Plane!