Sovereign of the Ashes

“Elemental fission device?” Sein was taken aback upon hearing Zorro’s words.

Memories of the alchemy experiments he had assisted his mentor with over the past few years flooded his mind.

“That’s right, the one we constructed in the lab. With the magic altar obscuring our view, we can’t see what’s exactly happening inside. But once we step in, you’ll notice that many of the devices at the entrance of the space-time rift are constructed in our lab,” Zorro whispered.

In addition to this revelation, Zorro also mentioned that it would not take too long to establish a new, safe route around the space-time rift.

Perhaps in a few days, they would be able to resume their exploration of the magic altar and space-time rift.

“I just hope that those fresh and junior initiates can survive the ordeal,” Sein said with a soft sigh.

His sigh was not a reflection of concern for their well-being. He was only worried that if the fresh and junior initiate perished, the next group of unfortunate individuals would likely be intermediate initiates, like himself.

Sein did not fear the uncertainty of interplanar exploration and space-time rifts. After all, living in Gloomhaven, precarious days were already the norm.

Nonetheless, Sein had no desire to be involved in situations where the odds of survival were slim or relied solely on luck.

Such a death was meaningless. He had spent over a decade at the Black Magic Academy, living in constant fear and uncertainty, and he had no intention of becoming mere cannon fodder.

As Sein and Zorro conversed in hushed tones inside the tent, faint moans and the sound of bodies being carried reached their ears from Shadow Valley.

The three occupants of the tent exchanged glances.

Faye reacted the quickest, rushing to the entrance of the tent, lifting a corner of the flap to peer outside.

Shadow Valley, as brightly lit as daytime, was a hive of activity with numerous minotaurs focused on their tasks.

They were busy bringing out severely injured initiates and even dismembered limbs from the magic altar.

Many of the minotaurs who had entered the altar also emerged injured. A few had even mysteriously lost their limbs.

In contrast to the severely injured initiates who were screaming and crying, the minotaurs stoically endured their injuries, obediently following the direct orders of the full-fledged black mages without uttering a word of complaint.

The sight of severely injured initiates being brought out provided a sense of relief to the other initiates in Shadow Valley, including Sein.

As long as the mortality rate was not 100%, there was still hope for survival.

However, the relief was short-lived, as the condition of the fresh initiates emerging from the magic altar was harrowing. Almost none of them emerged unscathed.

Those who survived were mostly missing at least an arm or a leg.

Some of the dismember limbs that were carried out were unrecognizable, reduced to mere masses of red flesh.

In comparison, Sein and the other experienced initiates were considered fortunate.

As the gruesome remains piled up, many fresh initiates rushed out of their tents with cries and screams, attempting to flee from Shadow Valley.

Their fate, however, was grim.

Some inadvertently triggered the magical wards set up by the black mages, turning to ash or lifeless corpses without even a chance to scream.

Others were forcibly driven back by the minotaurs, dark creatures, and academy overseers scattered throughout the valley.

Those driven back lost the privilege of staying in the tents and were instead thrown directly in front of the magic altar.

In addition to enduring the nauseating stench of blood coming from the depths of the altar, they would be the first to explore it on the following day.

Sein couldn’t care less about the deaths of the timid and cowardly who had yet to adapt to the harsh rules of the Underworld.

He knew they would not survive long in the unforgiving Gloomhaven, even if they managed to survive the space-time rift this time.

Sein, along with the experienced initiates from the Black Magic Academy, directed their attention to the severely injured initiates being carried out from the magic altar.

To their relief, the black mages treated these “meritorious individuals” with a certain degree of respect.

They were given special tent areas for their accommodation, and several black mages personally sought information from these fresh initiates.

In contrast, the first three Quasi Mages who entered the magic altar faced significantly different fates.

Surprisingly, one of them emerged alive, though not unscathed.

He had lost both of his legs entirely, and the possibility of a Quasi Mage regenerating them through magic remained uncertain.

Master Collance, a full-fledged black mage and an expert in the field, might hold the knowledge and techniques to reattach a pair of legs for the Quasi Mage.

Unlike the other fresh initiates, the Quasi Mage who emerged alive from the magic altar was sent to the magic tower beside Sein’s tents.

Zorro happened to recognize him as Andrin, the apprentice of a certain full-fledged black mage, with strength on par with Zorro.

The fact that even the apprentices of full-fledged black mages were subjected to this perilous space-time rift exploration process showed the lengths to which the black mages of Mystralora City were willing to go in their quest to explore the other side of the space-time rift.

Considering that even Andrin, a Quasi Mage, lost both of his legs inside, it remained uncertain whether other weaker initiates like Sein had any chance of returning unharmed.

***

In the afternoon of the following day, the exploration of the magic altar resumed.

This time, the number of initiates sent inside was smaller than the previous day, totaling just a few dozen.

It appeared that the black mages had no intention of sending a big group of initiates inside, possibly unwilling to incur the loss of sending them all to perish needlessly.

However, the situation was not drastically different from the previous day. Once these initiates were thrown into the magic altar, screams and agonizing cries soon echoed from within.

It was as though some monstrous horror lurked in the depths of the magic altar, brutally mutilating and devouring the initiates, much like the previous day.

The agonizing screams continued for an extended period, creating an somber atmosphere in Shadow Valley.

Eventually, the cries subsided.

The black mages continued to record the information they had gathered, while the weaker initiates were carried out of the magic altar by minotaurs and dark creatures.

Surprisingly, the overall death and injury rate for this group of initiates was slightly lower than the previous day.

However, very few initiates took note of this, as the prevalence of people losing their limbs had left many black magic initiates in a perpetual state of dread.

That night, some initiates attempted to escape from Shadow Valley, but the black mages showed no mercy this time.

They were swiftly killed by dark creatures or academy overseers.

The fates of their corpses were equally gruesome—half were devoured by the grotesque dark creatures, and the other half were ensnared in spider silks and suspended around Shadow Valley as a warning to others.

It seemed that after two days and one night of eliminating and sacrificing hundreds of initiates, the black mages were becoming less concerned with the size of this particular group of initiates.