Chapter 373: The Entire Plane Will Discover It

The Mercenary Guild is very rich; a bounty of over a hundred million magic crystals for the bones of Bone-Lock remains posted on the board—according to regulations, a thirty percent deposit is required, and that money cannot be touched.

This means the Mercenary Guild must maintain at least thirty million magic crystals in cash reserves.

It doesn't matter whether they keep the cash on account or lend it out for financial operations; the books must show at least thirty million.

That's enough—after all, the Mercenary Guild's assets certainly exceed a hundred million magic crystals. With the numbers on paper, even if they can't produce the cash, they can mortgage guild assets to raise the funds.

This is the Mercenary Guild; the Mage Guild is a hundred times richer—like the difference between a landowning farmer and a financial bank, because the Mage Guild produces magic crystals.

"That thing, the Element Converter—you mages produced it, right?" Nagris said.

"No, we didn't, don't make things up—it's the goblin engineers' masterpiece, nothing to do with us," Misha quickly denied.

Nagris sneered—sure, believe that. It might have believed it before, but now that it had Wali Gu as a goblin engineering master in the house, it knew it was impossible: goblin engineers were all kept by mages.

Either they're like Wali Gu, maintained by the Star College, or they're kept by the Mage Guild—without mages, goblins can't even etch magic runes properly, let alone design the mana circuits and energy cores inside. Goblins are just hired hands; mages are the bosses.

The Mage Guild attributes the invention of the Element Converter to goblin engineers mainly because it's too big a target—too rich, too hated.

Being rich is bad enough, but now they can also produce money—double the hatred.

Being rich and producing money is bad enough, but each one is also incredibly powerful, with legions of followers, and young girls adoring while married women chase after them—hatred squared.

But Misha's father's title as Guild Master isn't the richest—he's richer still as the owner of the Mars Mage Tower.

Mars is clearly named in the Star College's style, and indeed it's deeply entangled with the Star College.

The builder of the Mars Mage Tower was Mars's student, his legal successor, the Level Seven Fire Mage Joseph.

Some beings have no talent for cultivation at all, but their ability to blabber is extraordinary—they can't beat anyone in a fight or a debate, like… Red Star.

Even Nagris is slightly inferior to Red Star; it can't argue with Lightning.

Joseph was just like Red Star—weak cultivation talent, but an unparalleled teacher. Leveraging Mars's reputation, he built the Mars Mage Tower at the foot of the Su'erwei Volcano.

Over centuries, the Mars Mage Tower has grown into the top-tier mage tower in the main plane, and thanks to its ties to the Star College, it even gets a few exchange student slots.

Studying at the Star College, a top-tier academy, is the dream of every mage in the world. If you can't get in, the next best thing is entering a mage tower with exchange slots, taking a roundabout path to advancement.

In the Mars Mage Tower, mages with talent focus on cultivation; those without talent actively participate in management; those skilled in intrigue try to join various mage organizations.

Over centuries, the Mars Mage Tower has become a vital component of the Continental Mage Guild, its members deeply embedded in every department—giving them a huge advantage during elections.

Misha's father, Joseph VI, has been re-elected for eight terms—sixteen years total, two years per term—and the next election is coming up soon.

The Guild Master position is crucial—it doesn't make money, sometimes you even have to subsidize it—but it lets you tilt policy, funneling all the benefits back to your own mage tower.

So over the years, the Mars Mage Tower, already wealthy, has become wildly richer.

"The most profitable business these past two years has been silk magic cloth, World Tree branches, space jewelry, sacred essence fluid—we've made so much money, people are jealous and starting to challenge my father for the Guild Master seat," Misha said angrily.

Ang tilted his head; Nagris and the others exchanged strange glances.

Nagris changed the subject: "So why are you here? What's so fun about this swamp?"

Misha shook her head: "Nothing fun—lots of mosquitoes, but it's quiet. Those guys definitely wouldn't think I'd come to a place like this."

"Ugh, it's annoying. Ever since I came of age, everyone around me has become weird. They all promised to be my guardians and followers, but now they're all preening and flirting."

"And they keep sending relatives to become my followers—show up every day dressed in bright colors, parading around me, distracting me from cultivation. It's so annoying."

Misha spoke of this with deep resentment.

"Hmm. The biological instinct to reproduce."

"Spring has come. It's time for essence exchange."

"Hey, little yellow dragon, can you still do that thing?" Du Luo grinned.

"I know what you're asking—Nai Aili has started learning the succubus's spiritual communion technique. If things get bad, I'll just reincarnate back," Nagris replied irritably.

The old perverts muttered among themselves, shifting to whether spiritual communion could produce dragon offspring, and whether a body grown from Nagris's scales counted as "it" or "its brother"—ethical questions nobody cared about anymore. Misha's teenage troubles were forgotten.

Misha felt a pang of disappointment, but also a sigh of relief—she finally understood: no one here cared about being the Guild Master's daughter. Even the weirdo kept a proper distance, showing no interest in currying favor.

That's exactly what Misha wanted—Ang was already a God of Magic, and could transform into a Dragon God under the little yellow dragon's "summoning"—stronger even than her father.

Everyone else was also incredibly powerful; even the weirdo wielded the Sword of Truth. If her father came here, he'd have to flatter these people.

Two hours later, traveling in a straight line, they had crossed three hundred kilometers and entered the deep swamp.

Misha pulled out a map, staring in disbelief at Lightning and Hermel: "What kind of horses are you two? Three hundred kilometers in two hours? Even my fastest flight doesn't match that speed."

Lightning sneered, leaned close to Hermel's ear, and whispered something.

Hermel stepped forward, lifted a hoof, and tapped its own forehead: "Horses? Your whole family's horses! Unicorn—see?"

Lightning nudged it with its shoulder: "Unicorn is my line. When you say it, replace 'unicorn' with your own name."

"Oh—Hermel, see?" Hermel tapped its own forehead again, then frowned: "Why don't you say it yourself?"

"Can't you see what's on my head? If I say it, I'll hit the big cat."

"Makes sense."

Fine, these two horses are weird too. Misha flew farther away, unrolled her map, compared, and said: "Another twenty kilometers ahead—Broken Swamp."

As they advanced closer to the Broken Swamp, the big cat suddenly perked up.

Du Luo said: "No wonder they picked this spot as a base—it's a weak point in the plane. The plane barrier here is so thin, I could sneeze and punch through it."

Everyone stared at him. Nagris urged: "Go on, sneeze."

Du Luo sighed: "People today have zero sense of humor? Don't you understand exaggeration?"

"Chiiii—" The big cat suddenly sneezed hard. Instantly, concentric rings of seven-colored ripples spread out—the phenomenon of a plane barrier on the verge of shattering.

Nagris sneered dramatically, glancing sideways at Du Luo: "Pathetic."

At that moment, Ang suddenly pointed at it—his palm rapidly gathered a row of explosive fireballs, compressing them before blasting them outward.

Behind Nagris, a tendril had silently extended, nearly wrapping around it. The explosive fireballs hammered the same spot repeatedly, blasting the tendril clean off.

More tendrils and snake lice leapt from the swamp, surging from all directions toward Ang's group.

"Bad! We've walked into a nest of monsters!" Du Luo shouted.

"Defend! Protect Ang! Let him cast freely—he's already used his transformation, can't transform again!" Nagris barked orders.

Normally they teased and argued, but in critical moments, they obeyed without question—Ang was their core, but Ang couldn't command a battle. So in key moments, Nagris spoke for Ang.

Du Luo pulled out his Gold Rod and tapped the muddy swamp. A shower of golden sparks fell—the mud hardened into a solid slab of ground.

Du Luo leapt onto the hardened ground, clasped his palms together, then pulled hard—between his palms, a glowing seal formed, growing larger as he pulled.

When the seal reached its maximum size, Du Luo slammed his palm down—the seal imprinted onto the ground.

Repeating this, within a few breaths, Du Luo had stamped three seals onto the ground. A complex magic array appeared; under its effect, the ground began to rumble upward.

A hardened platform six meters in diameter rose, stopping at three meters high. Outside the diameter, spikes of earth thrust outward.

"Bloodflesh Strangling Arena—any flesh that touches it grows harder. Get up here," Du Luo said.

After creating this magic array and the three-meter platform, Du Luo showed no sign of fatigue—instead, he looked slightly excited.

In this world, few things could make him go all out. To finally encounter one—how could he not be thrilled?

Lu Se drew his sword, pulled out a beetroot, and stuck it in his mouth—not eating yet, saving it for when he got tired. It replenished stamina, and fighting these snake lice didn't require unlocking potential.

The little angel twisted its shoulders; its true wings sprouted from its back, slowly unfolding. Light wings extended from the wing roots. Then it pulled out the Archangel's Staff and the Earth Holy Hammer—one in each hand.

The little zombie began armorizing: one hand formed a hoe, its sharp tip half a meter long—each strike could pierce a snake louse. The other hand formed a shield. This was the little zombie's preferred combat stance: charge, then hoe.

Lightning shook its head, flicked the big cat off its head, revealing its horn: "Alright, Son of Thunder—time to go all out."

"Puuu—" Hermel spat out a thick green mist, shooting like a green arrow toward the snake lice.

Where the green mist touched, the snake lice ran a few steps, then collapsed forward—their bodies melting.

Feiti raised his hand forcefully: "Lord Ang, can you summon my true form? I can wipe out these monsters myself."

Nagris rejected instantly: "No. Just some snake lice? You think you're that indispensable? Is death so cheap now? Or do you want to play?"

Feiti's arm remained raised, but his hand hung limp: "I want to play…"

"Dream on," Nagris sneered, turning to Ang: "Tell Zi Hai and the others to prepare—standby for support."

Zi Hai's titans weren't in the space—they weren't meant to deploy. This wasn't an assault on the Church. Within the main plane, aside from the Church, Nagris didn't think any enemy required their full force.

Keeping Zi Hai's titans ready was just precautionary. If it's only snake lice, no matter how many come, they're no threat. The tendrils are still unknown, but they don't seem very tough. The real concern is the Aolong mages.

If a few more Aolong mages like Gali Gu show up, we might need to deploy more power.

The moment the thought crossed Nagris's mind, it wanted to slap itself—because in the distance, several tendrils coiled together, lifting several small dragon-people into the air, observing this direction from above.

Nagris turned to the big cat: "Big Cat, keep watch—if the enemy uses spatial or dimensional power, stop it."

"Aowu!" The big cat slammed its tiny paw hard against the ground.

"Fine, fine, I won't withhold your snacks, alright?" Nagris grumbled.

"Aowu!" The big cat slapped its paw again.

"What? Toll increase? Raise it by one bean? You're taking advantage of the crisis? Bad habit—I'll have Ang talk to you." Nagris threatened.

"Aow~wu~" The big cat purred cutely, patting its fluffy chest—no more talk of price hikes.

"Hmph. A bully who picks on the weak," Nagris scoffed haughtily, then noticed Misha, frozen in stunned silence.

"Is that Orkish? So strange—I actually understood its last line: 'No need to bother the lord, leave it to me, no problem.' Is that right? And me? What am I supposed to do?" Misha asked.

"Do you still have a Phoenix Rebirth Scroll? Use one," Nagris said.

"Oh, yes! Level seven phoenix scrolls are cheap—I brought a bunch. Leave it to me!" Misha patted her chest confidently.

Ang's cannon roared. After Misha released the phoenix, Ang took a moment to catalyze it into an Arcane Phoenix, which flapped its wings and dove toward the enemies.

Meanwhile, everyone frantically blasted the countless snake lice and tentacle monsters. The Holy Kingdom and Zi Hai's titans had already assembled.

Additionally, two war tree-people, shrunk to a fraction of their size and coiled into balls, prepared to teleport into the swamp before rooting and unfolding.

Ang drew the Kingdom Scepter, infused it with holy light, and prepared to open a portal—then suddenly noticed something strange. Some areas previously unreachable were now touchable.

Ang hesitantly tapped one of those regions.

Boom! A beam of light pierced space, descending from above—landing exactly where Ang stood: the Kingdom Stairway.

"What?! How?! The Kingdom Stairway? How did you summon the Kingdom Stairway? This is the main plane!" Nagris shouted in shock:

"Bad! Quickly, shut it down! The Heavenly Staircase has pierced the dimensional barrier—every part of this dimension will detect it."