magic. Leander was a mage from the White Tower, the same creator as the "Leander's Lantern Vine" spell. He was Bruno's ancestor, the one who defected from the White Tower during the Dragon Slaying Tide.
It goes without saying that this spell could not have been left behind by the Tower's master. A spell that countered the magic array within the Tower could only be the masterpiece of that pioneer.
"That pioneer… could it be… your ancestor's student at the White Tower?" Gloria asked.
"No," Bruno replied. "My ancestor kept a diary. He recorded that the Leander Barrier spell was something he invented in his later years."
After Leander defected from the White Tower, he invented this spell during his later years while living in obscurity. None of his former students or colleagues could have learned it.
"Besides, no one ever mastered this spell afterward," Bruno said, tugging at the corner of his mouth in an expression that was hard to tell whether it was a smile or a frown. "It's a spell only a Legendary Mage can cast. Although he documented the incantation, effects, and appearance in detail, none of his descendants who inherited his legacy ever advanced to the rank of Legendary."
There was only one person capable of casting this spell.
—Leander himself, the legendary mage who vanished without a trace in his later years.
So that's how it was.
Leander had come here in his twilight years; he was the trailblazer who had fought his way through every obstacle, and he had indeed reached the very place where they now stood. Tasha's earlier sense of tension had not been an illusion; there was indeed a threat—yet no threat—in the vicinity. The dangerous traps set around the drawbridge had likely been disarmed by Liandell, just as he had done with the lower levels of the mage's tower they had traversed. Their field of vision was too narrow, their range of movement limited, and the surrounding ravines were so deep that a fall would leave no wreckage or corpses behind—which was why they hadn't been able to spot this as easily as they had before.
Out of their sight, the area was littered with traces of magic, dismantled magical traps, and perhaps even a large number of corpses.
"So we're safe?" a guard asked hesitantly after hearing the explanation, suppressing his excitement. "A Grand Mage cleared this place out before us, so it's like… an abandoned haunted house?"
"I should've dragged them all into the teleportation array with us just now!" another soldier said bitterly.
The mages neither confirmed nor denied it.
It was hard to say. Until they actually reached the end and saw the outcome, the path ahead remained shrouded in darkness. Whether "staying behind" or "coming over" was the wiser choice remained undecided.
Was it because they were still in this unsettling environment? Even after the magical barriers and arrays had slowly faded into thin air, Tasha's nerves remained taut.
If the pioneer, Leander, had once crossed this suspension bridge just as they were doing now…
Had he left?
Leander had vanished without a trace in his later years; once he left, he never returned to his family. Why would this legendary mage risk entering the half-demolished mage tower of the White Tower in his twilight years? Did he achieve his goal? If this legendary mage—who had fought his way here through the mage tower seemingly without much difficulty—ultimately met his end… just how powerful was the person or "thing" that killed him?
Tashan had a vague feeling she was missing something, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
Never mind, she thought. Until there's evidence, it's best not to scare herself unnecessarily.
The group, having weathered this storm, pressed on.
They walked for another hour. Occasionally, something would appear in the surroundings, but it was always a false alarm—nothing more than immobile machinery in abandoned haunted houses, or, like the raven spirit from before, creatures that scattered quickly. Shortly after the next hour began, the group—which had grown numb from the journey—suddenly perked up. The suspension bridge beneath their feet began to curve upward.
They'd been climbing for a while now. The bridge was incredibly stable, the path exceptionally long, and the slope so gentle it was barely noticeable. By the time the upward curve became clearly perceptible, they would surely be nearing the other end.
To be honest, no one knew what awaited them on the other side, but the long journey had already worn down everyone's fear. It was as if, in the final stretch of the college entrance exam marathon, even the most anxious students had begun to entertain thoughts of "better to die early than suffer later." Weariness with the monotonous and unsettling present moment temporarily overshadowed the fear of the unknown, and people quickened their pace, with a sense of relief at nearing their destination appearing, to varying degrees, on their faces.
Tasha was the exception.
Was it an illusion? She heard a faint sound.
Even with her keen hearing, she doubted whether she had misheard it. After being on edge for so long, her nerves were bound to grow weary; Tasha wasn't sure if she had truly heard something or if it was merely an auditory hallucination born of exhaustion. She felt her anxiety mounting, and couldn't help but slow her pace slightly, wanting to create some distance from the group ahead so she could assess the situation…
Crack!
The wooden plank was shattered with a thunderous crash. Just as Tasha came to a halt, a red, cylindrical object smashed through the suspension bridge from below, shooting nearly two meters into the air and coming within a single step of her. Had Tasa not stopped just then, it likely wouldn't have been just the plank that was shattered.
As it pierced through the plank, it looked like a rigid rod, but when it collapsed and wrapped around the bridge deck, Tasa realized it was actually soft—like a long, lashing whip. The crimson whip coiled around the still-intact deck, and charred marks spread from wherever it touched. Even standing nearby, Tasa could feel the intense heat radiating from it.
That seemingly damp "whip" possessed a heat capable of setting the planks ablaze and even melting them.
Beyond the heat, Tasa sensed something else.
The Abyss.
She drew her silver dagger with a backhand motion. The modified demon-bane blade was more effective against creatures of the Abyss, and the insulation on the hilt prevented Tasa, who possessed demonic elements, from suffering backlash. With a swift motion, she sliced through the flesh-red whip. Just as she was about to call out for the mage to cast a freezing spell on the burning severed end, another sharp crack rang out—another identical long whip fell from above, lashing down heavily onto the burning spot.
The suspension bridge had snapped.
The entire bridge began to shake violently. On the left side, everything from the railing to the deck had snapped, with only a single rope on the right still barely holding. Everyone was pulled downward; most grabbed the remaining rope, while others began to fall. The stiff-limbed necromancer was the first to go, followed by two apprentices who were too slow to react and weren't caught in time.
Tasha spread her wings and dove downward.
It wasn't until she took flight that she sensed something was wrong. Her demonic wings beat against the air; once so light they were barely perceptible, they now felt incredibly heavy, as if she were carrying two shot put balls. Tasa flew with such clumsiness, even more uncoordinated than when she first acquired this body, as if bound by invisible, viscous threads. The air felt off, her body felt off—as if a force were gripping Tasa and pulling her downward. She was suddenly reminded of the sensation of flying through the Dead Demon Zone with her dragon-winged form; this sense of strain was similar, yet the magic in the air was by no means sparse.
On the contrary, after flying away from the suspension bridge, Tasa distinctly felt the magic around her grow even more abundant.
The people who had fallen from the bridge were still plummeting downward, while those clinging to the ropes were too busy saving themselves to help. The mages' flight spells could only be used on themselves, and the levitation spells they could cast on others or objects were severely limited—they were powerless to assist those who had already fallen several meters away. The two mage apprentices hadn't yet mastered flight spells, and Dolores specialized in necromancy—none of her necromantic spells could halt a fall. With no time to think, Tasa leaped forward and grabbed the two mage apprentices, one in each hand.
Just moments ago, she'd been able to carry Miranda effortlessly while running, but now, holding onto two teenagers, she felt as though she were clutching two armored vehicles. Tasa flapped her wings with great effort to maintain her balance, while Dolores was already slipping out of the black candle's light, about two meters away. Tasa gritted her teeth and dove straight down, maneuvering herself beneath the necromancer.
Dolores landed precisely behind Tashda, crashing onto the small patch of her back where her wings didn't interfere. The necromancer was short and gaunt, yet even this slight weight felt overwhelming as it slammed into Tashda. She plummeted downward, inch by inch, the weight of the two apprentices and the mage pressing down like a mountain.
Tashda plunged into darkness.
Many pairs of eyes watched in horror as the four were swallowed by the black curtain; the silence was as heavy as the darkness. After a terrifying half-minute, the flapping figure burst out again.
Tasha still held one apprentice in each hand; she hadn't let go of either. She simply clenched her jaw, every muscle in her body taut to the point of trembling, sweat pouring down in thick drops. This body, capable of effortlessly lifting an armored vehicle, seemed to have suddenly been reduced to its true form—a mere mortal who would be gasping for breath just carrying a bucket of water. Sweat dripped into her eyes, blurring Tash's vision. She climbed upward with all her might; for a moment, even her thoughts grew sluggish and chaotic, as if she were sprinting toward the finish line in a long-distance race.
The good news was that no one else was falling.
Not only was no one falling, but when Tasa flew back up, everyone had crawled back into place—the suspension bridge had actually returned to its original state. The collapsed left side had risen back to its original level; the planks and ropes had regrown, though a bit of charred blackness remained where restoration hadn't yet reached. Only then did Tasha realize that the reason the suspension bridge appeared completely unscathed and as sturdy as new wasn't because the attacks from the pioneers and the Tower Lord had caused no damage to the deck, but because it could heal itself.
Tasha tossed the two mage apprentices back onto the bridge, and a quick-thinking guard grabbed the necromancer on her back, dragging Dolores toward the bridge deck. With the heavy luggage unloaded, Tashada breathed a sigh of relief—even though the sensation of flight still felt off—and prepared to ascend a bit further to fly back onto the bridge.
Something grabbed her foot.
Earlier, Tashada had sensed a downward pull, but now the force was tangible; something was literally dragging her down. Scorching heat seared Tash's ankles, instantly reducing the hem of her pants to brittle fragments. Had it not been for her dragon heritage and exceptional fire resistance, her ankles would surely have met the same fate. She looked down and saw a flesh-colored whip.
Before she could swing her silver blade, another "whip" wrapped around her other foot. She had expended too much energy during her ascent, and for a moment, she was unable to break free. The immense pulling force came from both sides, making it impossible to resist. Before Tasa could grab hold of anything, she was violently dragged downward.
Several spells missed their mark just a step away from her. Amidst the screams of the crowd, Tasa fell straight down.
She could feel herself falling downward and sideways, seemingly veering off course from the suspension bridge and heading toward the wall. Tasa could see nothing and had no way of judging how far she had fallen in such a short time. Then her vision returned; after her eyes adjusted to the dismal surroundings, Tasa caught a glimmer of light—emanating from the red whip wrapped around her ankle. Beneath the flesh-colored whip, a dark red glow flickered, like glowing coals.
Following that dim light, Tasa saw the other end of the whip.
The other end was glowing as well; their entire bodies were emitting a dim, tongue-like glow—yes, tongues. It wasn't some "flesh-colored whip" at all; they were the gaping maws of two creatures.
In the direction Tasha was falling, on that distant wall, two lizard-like creatures had opened their mouths wide, eagerly awaiting the return of their tongues—and the prey clinging to them—to their original positions.