Chapter 187-3: On the Cultivation of Old Coins (Part 3)

Words : 1225 Updated : Oct 3rd, 2025

“A pleasure working with you.” The two exchanged smiles, but both had something hidden in their eyes that the other couldn’t quite grasp. This was a deal between Abyssal demons. “Viscount Berna, the City Lord’s forces are coming. We need to withdraw.” At that moment, an urgent voice came from outside the chamber. Hearing the report, Berna nodded. He and Roy left the chamber together. Now that he had secured what he wanted, there was no reason to stay. The gold Pucks and treasures in the chamber didn’t even warrant a second glance from Viscount Berna. Quickly leading his subordinates into the courtyard of the City Lord’s Mansion, Berna was just about to order the Dark Pact’s retreat when suddenly the space around them trembled. Zzzzzz. Like glass shattering, space convulsed violently and then burst apart. A small, elderly man in a white mage’s robe appeared about thirty blades away, his face filled with rage. The surrounding mana gathered wildly around the old man, forming a magical tide in mere seconds. It was none other than Locke Hart, the sole transcendent mage of Green City, who had entered the Abyss just a sun-hour ago. “Lord Locke!” Armored guards in dwarven-forged full plate rushed over, their faces showing undisguised joy at seeing the old man. The moment Locke appeared, everyone believed victory was certain. No one doubted the sheer power of a transcendent. “How is this possible? Did Lord Barrow fail to stop you?” Viscount Berna’s eyes filled with deep wariness and confusion as he beheld the transcendent. He had arranged for a transcendent-level Abyssal Flame Demon to ambush Locke in the Abyss. Even if that demon couldn’t kill Locke, there was no way Locke should have escaped so quickly. Locke’s wrinkled face showed a faint sneer at those words. He waved his hand, and the space before him shattered. Then, before everyone’s eyes, a massive head half the size of a person fell out of the broken space. The head bore huge horns, and even in death, it radiated a chillingly evil aura. Ordinary guards nearby shivered in fear. Drops of searing blood dripped from its severed neck, corroding deep pits into the bluestone floor, it was a gruesome and terrifying sight. An Abyssal Demon. “This weak little Flame Demon was your helper?” Viscount Berna’s eyes widened sharply at the sight, and he instinctively took a step back. His gaze toward Locke was now filled with sheer shock. So powerful. This transcendent was overwhelmingly powerful. Berna estimated that Locke might already be approaching the legendary rank. A transcendent Flame Demon couldn’t even hold out for a full sun-hour against him. Too strong. “Hand over the Twelve Magic Scrolls, you Abyssal devils. This is not something you can covet.” Locke’s tone was calm, but facing the massive head of the transcendent Abyssal Demon, both Berna and Roy, the Eight-Armed Serpent Demon, felt enormous pressure. No one dared to defy the will of a transcendent, unless they were ready to meet the God of Death. Berna’s expression shifted again and again. His previous grace was gone, replaced by visible tension. Gritting his teeth, he suddenly pulled a chillingly sinister magic scroll from his chest and, before anyone could react, ripped it open. A terrifying aura burst forth. Savage, cold, and above all; overwhelmingly powerful. A divine aura. Locke’s eyes flew open as he felt it. He instantly began casting two Tier 4 spells, but at the very moment before he finished, the mana in the air seemed to be sucked dry, vanishing completely. The transcendent mage’s spells crumbled before completion. “Anti-magic field?!” Locke’s eyes narrowed sharply, unable to suppress his fury. Damn it. These Abyssal devils had come prepared, using divine power to create an anti-magic field. Viscount Berna, seeing this scene, finally smiled. His blue eyes fixed deeply on Locke. “Lord Locke, I hope next time we meet, we can truly cross swords.” He raised the grayish Artifact in his hand. The legendary Twelve Magic Scrolls pulsed with chaotic, evil energy, dazzlingly conspicuous. Then, under everyone’s gaze, Viscount Berna produced another magic scroll and tore it open. A teleportation array, imbued with divine power, appeared at their feet. “I’ll be borrowing your Artifact.” With that, shwoosh, the teleportation scroll activated, and both Berna and Roy disappeared. Locke’s face darkened, his deep eyes ablaze with fury. A mere Abyssal devil not even at the transcendent level dared to mock him like this? Damn bastard! With a wave of his hand, explosive magical energy surged out, shattering the divine-powered anti-magic field like glass. Even a divine-powered anti-magic field lasted barely ten seconds before this transcendent mage. Had Berna delayed even a moment longer, he would have been punished with magic. After Berna left, Locke didn’t relent. After sensing briefly, he waved his hand, and the space before him shattered again. He stepped through. “I’ve sealed the spatial gates outside the city. Send troops to cleanse the demons within,” he ordered, glancing back at Berna’s subordinates. “And wipe out every one of these damned underground organizations. Don’t bother coming to find me. No matter where that devil runs, I will retrieve what belongs to Locke.” With those words, the space healed, and the once-bustling courtyard was empty. Outside, the gathered crowd looked at each other in confusion, unsure what had just happened. From Berna’s attack on the City Lord’s Mansion and the breaking of its Magic Shield to Locke’s return and the sudden disappearance of all three figures, it had all taken only a few minutes. Most people were still in a daze. But when they saw the Dark Pact members scattering and fleeing, they quickly snapped out of it and began, as instructed by Lord Locke, to purge the damned underground forces. After Berna used divine power to trap Locke and escape, Witherbone, still fighting near the Crimson Mage Tower, finally disengaged after one last clash with the five-person squad. He dismissed the Bone Dragon and slipped into a spatial gate. High in the sky, thousands of Griffins and Pegasi were appearing. If he hesitated any longer, even with his 18th level Bone Dragon, he would surely die. “Gahaha~ Vile humans! The great Lord Witherbone is not someone you can resist. Today, I’ll graciously grant you the privilege of living. Next time we meet, I’ll personally escort you to the God of Death.” His ghostly blue eyes beneath the black hood gleamed with mocking disdain. With those words, he vanished into the spatial gate. The five high-level professionals on the ground exchanged glances. None of them specialized in spatial magic; the only caster, a Priest, wasn’t familiar with spatial spells either. They could only shake their heads and stop their pursuit. That damned Necromancer! Thus, this sudden assault on Green City came to an end. Many civilians were still bewildered, having no idea what had happened. Only a few high-level professionals vaguely understood the truth, but no one dared to speak of it. Because no one could bear the wrath of Lord Locke. Li De, after seeing Witherbone vanish into the spatial gate, narrowed his eyes. His gaze sharpened as he stared in the direction of Witherbone’s departure. “Emi, lock onto his position and follow.” This prey, he was determined to claim it.

Chapter 187-3: On the Cultivation of Old Coins (Part 3)

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