A/N : Due to ongoing craze of Studio Ghibli-style fiction pictures, chatgpt image creation is currently extrely inefficient, not to ntion it automatically change prompts to Ghibli-style. The problem has made image creation a pain in the ass and its likely that before this craze dies it would hinder my progress, I am trying my best but i hope the readers would understand.
Instead of fighting it, I embraced the craze and this chapter so pictures are Ghibli-style, I hope you enjoy it.
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Leylin pressed forward with his three knight slaves, their boots crunching against the rocky floor of the cave where the Black Horrall Snake had fallen.
The air was still heavy with the scent of blood and scorched scales, but his focus shifted as he spotted a rusty tal passage branching off from the cavern's edge.
The tunnel yawned wide, its breadth sufficient for three adults to walk abreast, its walls shrouded in a layer of grey dust that clung to the surface like a second skin.
(Image)
Leylin reached out, brushing his fingers against the wall. The dust crumbled away, revealing a silver tal beneath—smooth and reflective, yet strange to the touch.
At first, it was icy cold, a chill that bit into his skin, only to shift monts later into an unexpected warmth that pulsed faintly beneath his fingertips.
"Crying Blood Alloy," Leylin murmured, recognition sparking in his mind. "This should be the right path." His voice was low, a quiet affirmation of his bearings. Silently, he commanded, "A.I. Chip, record composition!"
[Beep! Target information collected, saving in database. Folder: Resource Information—Blood Crying Alloy!] The A.I. Chip's response chid in his ears, a chanical hum that underscored his every step with precision.
Leylin knew what lay ahead: the passage would teleport him to Dylan Gardens as soon as he reached its far end.
[The negative energy density in the air has increased by an additional 3.14% above regular settings!] The A.I. Chip's alert sounded, a subtle shift in the atmosphere that prickled his senses.
"It's here!" Leylin's eyes narrowed as a radiant hole flared into existence at the tunnel's end, its light a blinding beacon against the dim tal walls. He strode forward, his knights trailing close behind, their armor clanking softly with each step.
As they passed through the shimring portal, a dazzling glare assaulted their eyes, forcing them to shut them tight against the brilliance. The sensation was fleeting, a montary disorientation, and when Leylin opened his eyes again, he stood amidst a breathtaking sea of flowers.
(Image)
The garden sprawled before him, an explosion of color and fragrance that defied nature's laws. Tulips stood in vibrant clusters, their petals a riot of reds, yellows, and purples; flaming poppies glowed like embers scattered across the earth; large, winding chrysanthemums unfurled in shades of crimson and gold; green calla lilies rose elegantly amid the chaos, their sleek forms a quiet contrast.
Flowers Leylin couldn't na danced among them, their unfamiliar blooms a testant to the garden's enchantnt. The air was thick with their mingled scents—sweet, spicy, and earthy—a heady perfu that seed to pulse with the spell binding this place, allowing flowers of disparate seasons and regions to bloom in wild harmony.
"Violet Leaves Flower, Nose Root Fruit, Walking Dragonfly, Inverted Sunflower, and the Void Flower!" Leylin's voice carried a note of triumph as he identified the rarest among them, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
He had reached Dylan Gardens at last, the culmination of his perilous trek. Yet he knew the treasures were rigged—guarded by Alice, the plane's sentinel, and a self-destruct chanism that would obliterate them if provoked.
'This is an inheritance ground,' he thought. 'Great Magus Serholm wouldn't design it to be easily destroyed. Jayden's greed for the Sun Golden Fla triggered the trap, but there's a solution—Serholm crafted these challenges for acolytes to crack, not to be impossible.'
"A.I. Chip, scan the area," Leylin ordered, his tone steady. He was certain the chanisms, while formidable, were within an acolyte's grasp, and he was proven right.
For three hours, he worked tirelessly, pacing the garden's periter as the A.I. Chip humd within his mind, its blue light flickering in his eyes.
It mapped the arcane arrays woven into the soil, analyzing their patterns with relentless precision.
[Beep! Array analysis complete. Self-destruct chanism identified: Mana feedback loop tied to guardian activation. Deactivation protocol: Disrupt core nodes at coordinates X-17, Y-42, Z-9.]
Leylin moved with expert precision, kneeling beside a cluster of Void Flowers. He pressed his fingers into the earth, channeling a thread of spiritual force to sever the mana lines, his movents deft and practiced. A faint hum faded, the air growing still as the chanism's glow dimd, its threat neutralized.
With the trap disard, Leylin set to harvesting, his hands moving carefully to preserve each herb's potency.
The Violet Leaves Flower yielded its delicate purple petals, the Nose Root Fruit its pungent, knobby roots—each worth a fortune, their combined value nearing a million magic crystals.
His three knights worked alongside him, their arms laden with baskets woven from garden vines, their faces stoic despite the backbreaking labor. Hours passed in a blur of ticulous picking, Leylin's ecstasy mounting as he swept Dylan Gardens clean, leaving no bloom unclaid.
'Now that this is done, it's ti for the Advanced ditation Technique,' he thought, satisfaction warming his chest.
Unlike Feng ng and his cohorts, undone by greed and distrust, Leylin scoured every inch of the plane. He unearthed Darkness Crystals glinting with shadow energy, Bloodline Crystals pulsing with primal power, and a scattering of tos—texts on bloodline experints, curses, artifacts, and potion formulas, their pages brittle but invaluable.
His search led him to a straight tunnel, its wooden walls etched with ancient Byron script: Seekers who reach this place will have a chance to obtain my inheritance—Norco Curadu Sfar.
(Image)
Leylin pressed on, erging into a study-like chamber. Four walls lood with empty bookshelves, their barrenness stark against the rich wood grain.
At the center stood a large table, its surface bare save for a black box adorned with serpentine patterns, gleaming faintly in the dim light. Behind it hung an oil painting—a circle of mystical runes forming a snake biting its own tail, an emblem of eternity.
(Image)
"I've gained much already—crystals, books, formulas," Leylin murmured, his gaze settling on the box. "Now, only the real inheritance of Great Magus Serholm remains." He reached out, fingers brushing the box's lid.
Pa! It sprang open, revealing a thick black book nestled in red silk, its extravagance a stark contrast to the room's austerity.
Leylin lifted it—Ka-Cha!—and a chanical whir echoed as the box's base shifted, exposing a cursive Byron warning in blood-red ink: Inheritor! When you take the 'Book of Giant Serpent,' this secret plane will self-destruct within 3 hourglasses' ti.
"Considerate of you," Leylin said dryly, flipping open the to.
"A.I. Chip! Record information!" The book was dense, its tiny, coded script a labyrinth to most, but Leylin's eyes glowed blue as the Chip processed it swiftly. Pages rustled under his fingers, the Chip cataloging every word.
In less than half an hourglass, he'd scanned it entirely.
[Information sorting in progress… Deleting useless data… Obtained content from the Book of Giant Serpent: 667 pages of travel notes, 78 experint notes, 12 Rank 1 spell models, 3 Rank 2 spell models!] The data flooded his mind, a treasure trove that dwarfed the efforts of lesser acolytes.
"A single Rank 1 spell is a prize for most," he mused, "and I've claid a dozen and 3 rank 2 spells as well." His attention shifted to the oil painting, its snake emblem radiating suspicion.
He drew a yellow bronze ring from his robes—cheap, scratched, and etched with a 'K'—a relic from Roman's remains. It grew warm as he neared the painting, the 'K' glowing faintly.
(Image)
Ka-Cha! The painting's base crumbled, revealing a slot matching the ring. Leylin pressed it in Bang! and a strange energy pulsed outward.
Sssii! The painted snake stirred, its runes wriggling as scarlet light flared in its eyes. It spun faster, tail-chasing accelerating into a black hole. Within sat a cage of crimson lightning, guarding a secret.
(Image)
An ancient voice bood in his mind: "The test begins. Portray this spell formation within 30 seconds!" A yellow illusory array appeared.
"A.I. Chip! Decrypt!" Blue light flared in Leylin's eyes as the Chip analyzed: [Mission established… Analysis complete.]
He traced the pattern ntally, passing the test. A blue formation followed, then a black one—its complexity startling him, but he completed it just as ti ticked out. The three rged into a scarlet array, runes pulsing as lightning leapt into his body.
"My inheritor! You must be courageous, wise, astute, and knowledgeable to break the shackles of Bloodline…"
The voice faded as the A.I. Chip prompted: [Spiritual force data received. Accept?]
"Accept!" Information surged, a torrent sorted by the Chip: a high-grade ditation technique for Kemoyin Serpent warlocks.
[Warning! Ti to collapse: 5 minutes 56 seconds!]
"Run!" Leylin bolted, knights in tow, glancing back at the study. "Thank you, Great Magus Serholm. I'll fulfill your wish and shatter the Bloodline Shackles."
They raced through the barren Dylan Gardens its emptiness a quiet triumph then the tal passage, erging in the snake's cave. The Mankestre waited, its coils still.
"Starier Guderian!" Leylin recited the exit password, knights and summon touching him. Red lightning flared, whisking them away.
They materialized atop the cliff, the void's faint energy waves marking the plane's collapse.
"A pity," Leylin sighed, eyeing the fading rift. "It could've been a hideout."
He clutched the Book of Giant Serpent—travel notes, experints, spells—a trove beyond price, though a re shell for the true prize in the painting.
"Let's go," he commanded, descending to find Greem, Fraser, and a carriage waiting.
"Young Master," they bowed. "Load the items," Leylin ordered, the Mankestre vomiting the snake corpse as the knights hauled herbs and remains aboard.
"Everything's settled," Greem reported. "Villa procured discreetly, per your command." Leylin nodded, glancing at the naless knight slaves.
'They deserve a reward,' he thought, their labor a silent testant to his gains.
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