A black aura enveloped a gray short-tailed goat, whose appearance was endearing and cute, with a pair of dark, bright eyes that occasionally flickered with a hint of cunning.
Dordor.
Dordor the Third.
Ronan summoned it. Dordor the Third's greatest abilities were escaping and survival. In such an extremely harsh environment, without a map and wanting to find a way out as quickly as possible, Dordor the Third was the perfect candidate for this task.
With the guidance of Alazan's soul, Ronan felt somewhat confident.
As soon as Dordor the Third appeared, it affectionately approached Ronan, rubbing its furry little head against his pant leg repeatedly.
Ronan took out some spare metal materials, feeding them to it as food, gently stroking the metallic wool under its neck, and attempting to communicate with it through consciousness.
After he summoned Dordor the Third, Alazan surprisingly quieted down.
It wasn't until Ronan "carefully" dispersed the aura protecting Dordor the Third, watching it dart out quickly, its small figure unharmed in the storm and thunder-ravaged environment, that Alazan slowly spoke.
"Great creation."
Ronan was taken aback; this was the first time he had heard such lavish praise from Alazan.
Previously, when he first "cycled into a dream," breaking the record of the Spirit Heart lineage, he hadn't received much praise from Alazan.
"Even in my era, wizards who could combine alchemy, forging, and metal-based spells so perfectly were few and far between... Do you know who its creator was?"
The image of the "Alchemist" flashed through Ronan's mind. He was sure Alazan must have heard of the name "Schbiert," but he didn't elaborate, simply replying, "An ancient alchemist, I'm not sure of his real name."
Alazan fell silent for a moment, then murmured, "You are much luckier than I anticipated."
"Lucky? Perhaps."
Ronan took a deep breath. In the state of the "Ancient Mara Body," he followed Dordor the Third's footsteps forward.
With just one step, it seemed to thoroughly disturb something.
Dense wind blades and thunder rapidly surged towards him.
It was as if dozens, nearly a hundred wind and lightning wizards were casting spells at him simultaneously, though fortunately, the power of each spell wasn't particularly strong.
Ronan swung his arms, the aura surrounding him condensed, forming a thin layer on his body, like armor with its own black smoke and flame effects. The sheer physical force compressed the air, creating two invisible crescent-shaped gusts that swept fiercely around, clearing a large area of wind blades and lightning in an instant.
Metal-based spells were severely countered by the ubiquitous electric currents in the storm realm, so he didn't use Ithium as a weapon.
After the wave of elemental attacks was repelled, the dispersed wind and lightning energy particles spread outward, quickly forming more, broader, and more intense chain reactions.
What does it mean to move one hair and affect the whole body?
Ronan was now experiencing the true meaning of moving one hair and affecting the whole body.
More wind blades and lightning rolled in, Ronan's long hair danced, as he continuously defended against the attacks while looking forward with all his might.
In the area where Ronan was located, all the storms had been "activated." Ahead, lightning fell like rain, with electric serpents chasing the shadow of a small black goat that was frantically darting forward—it was the fleeing Dodor III.
Further away, even more powerful waves of thunder and storms were brewing. Ronan even saw elemental beings resembling humanoid figures being born in the void. This was an endless forest of thorns composed of storms and lightning! And what Ronan was about to do was to carve out a path of survival with his bare hands in this thorny forest!
"Boom!"
A black shockwave exploded as Ronan began to exert his strength. His figure twisted and turned, lunging forward like a dragon.
From the ground where molten thunder flowed, several deep purple energy tentacles shot up, roaring as they swept toward him.
He formed his hand into a blade, using his aura as the edge, and slashed out, severing several energy tentacles and causing a burst of thunderous light.
Above, twisted lightning whips fell, striking Ronan fiercely, breaking a small piece of his aura-forged armor and leaving a scorching, painful mark on his body.
There was also a dense rain of wind blades, like a school of man-eating sharks, and a tide of wind blades. The air was filled with invisible tearing and pulling forces, and the cursed wind howled with terrifying screeches, constantly battering Ronan's eardrums. With every step Ronan took, he was subjected to endless attacks from all directions.
He naturally entered the state of the Lake of No Thoughts, his mind completely calm, fully immersed in the battle.
He attempted to manipulate his aura, creating more variations to adapt to the ever-changing battlefield. The delicate control over his mental energy brought by the Ancient Star Meditation Technique made this possible. This was a process of optimizing and refining Ronan's close-combat system, discarding the unnecessary and retaining the essential.
On his character panel, the proficiency of Basic Swordsmanship increased almost every short interval.
Ronan crossed the lake of molten thunder, shattered the invisible barriers formed by the gales, and passed through the dense forest of lightning whips, which were filled with swarms of wind blades resembling "killer bees." Before leaving the south, the large quantities of healing potions he had purchased at the Arcane Workshop now played an incredibly important role.
Bottles of healing potions were gulped down like water, sustaining the continuous consumption of his life force.
Under the overwhelming, dense elemental onslaught, even the Ancient Mara Body could not remain unscathed.
Ronan was inevitably injured repeatedly, only to heal again and again. He felt as though he was fighting against countless enemies who never tired.
They gave him no respite, attacking wave after wave, endlessly.
At first, he would occasionally check his character panel to see the growth rate of his Ascetic Body Forging mastery, but eventually, he completely forgot about it. All he could do was fight, move forward, fight, and survive.
After what felt like an eternity, Ronan suddenly felt the pressure around him lighten, like a tsunami receding.
"Hu—hu—"
He took a deep breath, realizing that he had almost caught up to Duoduoer III without noticing. The little guy seemed to be in much better condition than him, standing on a completely crystallized cliff washed by thunder and storm, looking in a certain direction with a hint of hesitation and fear.
Ronan climbed onto the crystallized cliff, hugged Duoduoer III to praise its pathfinding skills, fed it some metal, then straightened up and looked in the direction where Duoduoer III had stopped.
As he looked up, Ronan was momentarily stunned.
The spot where he and Duoduoer III stood was a high slope, and below it stretched a vast, charred plain.
On this enormous, seemingly endless plain, countless wind elementals, electric elementals, and storm elementals intertwined with wind and electricity were gathered! All the elemental beings seemed to be silently watching him with indistinguishable eyes.
Countless waves of malicious consciousness converged in the sky, forming an invisible storm tsunami, bringing Ronan waves of soul-burning and stinging sensations.
The subtle energy bursts from countless elemental bodies merged into a grand and majestic roar of wind and thunder, like a giant drum in the heavens, pounding heavily.
"Hiss—"
Ronan stared at the scene before him, seemingly shocked and unable to regain his composure.
"You still have time to turn back."
The voice of Alazan, which had been absent for a long time, rang out again, carrying a tone of admonishment.
"Perhaps, we can try to find another way out."
"Alazan"
Ronan took a deep breath, the shock and emotion in his eyes fading, returning to calmness.
"The most respected and eldest Wizard of the Hall of Spirits..."
Ronan spoke softly, but his eyes gradually brightened, as if a blazing fire was burning in his pupils.
"You must have many stories hidden."
"Tell me, anything will do."
Ronan straightened his back, stretched his limbs, and his waist-length black hair danced like a cape behind him.
He twisted his neck, and his body emitted "crack" sounds.
"Otherwise, the long time ahead... would be too boring!"
With that, Ronan stomped his feet and leaped high on the crystallized cliff, black aura flowing and forming semi-illusory black twin swords in his hands.
At this moment, Ronan was like an unstoppable beast, charging fiercely towards the plain filled with elemental enemies in an extremely high-spirited and domineering manner.
"Boom!"
The sound of storm and thunder erupted, and the battle began once again.
"What a madman..."
Alazan's low sigh echoed in the void, but it was quickly drowned out by the intense sounds of battle.
Time waits for no one, and who knows how many silver hourglasses had run out.
Storm Realm.
"Boom—"
Ronan punched out, the brutal and savage force directly shattering a twisted storm spirit in front of him, the residual force breaking a high, protruding crystallized rock behind it, creating a huge hole in the cliff.
Ronan swiftly dodged inside, using his psychic abilities to manipulate the scattered rocks, compressing them together to firmly block the entrance.
Not far away, the dozen or so elemental creatures that had been relentlessly pursuing him seemed to suddenly lose track of Ronan's presence. They paused, lingering in the vicinity for a while before gradually dispersing.
"Whew—"
Ronan exhaled a turbid breath, sitting cross-legged inside the cave. He casually picked up Dodor the Third beside him, cradling it in his arms and gently stroking it.
Compared to a few months ago, he had become much thinner.
His cheeks were slightly sunken, with a thin layer of skin tightly clinging to his face. Yet, his eyes were strikingly bright. Even while sitting, he exuded an aura like a spear thrusting skyward, sharp and impossible to ignore, radiating a terrifying intensity.
Ronan held Dodor the Third, taking out the last bit of dry biscuit he had and slowly chewing it. He sipped small mouthfuls of water from his leather pouch, his expression blank, as if deep in thought.
A beautiful golden ladybug flew out from within him, quietly landing on the tip of Dodor the Third's nose.
Perhaps feeling ticklish, Dodor the Third sneezed, and the golden ladybug flew up to rest on its head.
"Two months ago, I almost thought you were going to die here,"
Alazan's voice softly echoed. Ronan swallowed the food in his mouth, shaking his head calmly, "I'm not a madman, nor a fool.
As long as the elemental creatures are beyond the third tier, I avoid them in advance, not provoking them. You see, this journey of mine seems fraught with danger, but it's all within my control. I value my life more than anyone else."
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