A leveled circular clearing. At the edge stood twelve stone pillars carved with runes, the top of each pillar embedded with multiple magic crystals, gleaming with a gloomy luster under the moonlight.
In the center of the clearing, a giant ritual magic array was carved, with concentric circles layered one after another.
The outermost circle was carved with runes symbolizing the physical body, the next circle inward had patterns representing the spirit, and in the very center, there were only empty rings overlapping one another, with no beginning and no end; that was the symbol of the soul.
The sacrifices were already in place.
More than two thousand people knelt on the periphery of the magic array, fixed in their respective positions.
If an unknowing outsider saw this scene, they would probably mistake it for a large-scale sacrifice by an evil cult.
In reality, it was merely a simple exploration activity.
Mofrei looked at the nearly prepared ritual with a strange expression.
She now knew why she had suffered heavy injuries when she tried to charm Sigmund back then; it turned out she had crashed right into a mushroom soul!
Damn Sigmund, colluding with an unknown outsider—who knew how massive a loss this had caused the Empire! If it were in the past, she would have definitely dealt with him severely.
Unfortunately, the current Demon King was too easy to talk to, actually brushing this matter off so lightly, which made Mofrei quite dissatisfied.
Fortunately, at least the guy who had injured her had already had its soul scattered, and even the thing behind it looked like it was going to be wiped out entirely by the Demon King.
With this number of sacrifices comparable to a large-scale ritual, combined with the Demon King's miraculously skillful magic attainments, Mofrei couldn't think of anything in this world that could block such a mental attack.
Ultimately, the form in which these Puchis existed was too laughable.
The mycelial network connecting minds indeed provided them with many conveniences, and it also caused the Empire a lot of trouble.
However, this kind of convenience similarly meant that any single Puchi could become a fatal flaw for them.
Just like now, they merely grabbed a few Puchis at random, and they could directly attack the core of the opponent's mycelial network.
As for the so-called "mental space where whoever explores dies", that was merely aimed at spellcasters who were weak, isolated, and powerless to organize large-scale rituals.
She came before the Demon King: "Your Majesty, the preparations are complete."
The Demon King nodded, but he wasn't in a hurry to activate the ritual; instead, he first prepared a backup plan for himself.
He did not underestimate the Mushroom Race. Tanaka had already told him about the Mycelium Doomsday that the fox-man was constantly worried about.
As an entity that could defeat him in the fox-man's prophecy—even if it was an incomplete version of himself—its abilities were definitely not simple.
The Demon King wouldn't be like Mofrei, naively thinking that relying solely on this one operation could defeat or at least heavily injure the enemy.
In the Demon King's plan, this was purely an exploration operation.
It wasn't even impossible for him to suffer a slight loss if he wasn't careful, therefore a backup plan for emergency disengagement was absolutely essential.
At the same time, to prevent anyone from causing trouble during his exploration, he specifically called over Grey—who had already been transplanted with Dean's magic core—along with other Demon-kin, to take over the defense of Duskfall Keep.
Although Grey, who now possessed two magic cores, was still in a painful adjustment period, he still accepted this mission without a sliver of hesitation.
With everything prepared, only then did the Demon King stand right in the center of the ritual.
In the center, three sealed Puchis were hanging on racks.
In reality, one was enough; preparing two more was just to handle unexpected accidents.
The ritual array beneath him gradually lit up with radiance. The Demon King took off his white gloves, slowly extending his palm composed of mucus onto the Puchi's fungal body. Mental connection...
BANG!!!
The first overlapping, massive explosion came without any warning.
Completely unexpected, Mofrei's shoulders suddenly shrank back. Before she had time to digest the meaning of that muffled boom, a second, a third, a tenth, and countless explosions detonated in succession, like countless drumsticks frantically beating on the same drum.
The sound was too dense, so dense that the intervals couldn't be distinguished, converging into a roar that made one's scalp tingle.
The loud noises were coming from the ritual.
Mofrei looked over, her pupils shrinking in terror.
The area where the sacrifices were located was now a sea of blood red; even the air itself was dyed red.
One fifth.
Mofrei subconsciously estimated the losses in this instant.
Moreover, the explosions were continuing. Bang, bang, bang, with no intention of stopping whatsoever.
Mofrei took a step back.
Her foot stepped on gravel, emitting a faint sound. That sound was almost inaudible amidst the continuous explosions, but she herself heard it clearly.
Her legs were going soft, her knees were trembling, and a chill crawled up her spine, making her entire scalp go numb.
She didn't know what exactly was on the other side that could cause such a terrifying effect; even the forbidden Abyss wouldn't go this far.
She suddenly remembered the backlash she had suffered when she tried to charm Sigmund back then.
If it had been the same intensity as today...
Just as Mofrei was hesitating over whether she should do something, those hair-raising explosions finally began to slow down.
The sacrifices were still being rapidly annihilated one by one; any evil mage who saw this rate of consumption would feel a deep heartache.
However, compared to the shock of almost four hundred sacrifices being consumed in an instant just before, Mofrei surprisingly felt that this current rate of consumption wasn't entirely unacceptable.
Most crucially, did the slowing down of the consumption rate mean that Lord Demon King had already grasped the initiative?
Mofrei looked toward the center of the ritual, wanting to discern something from the Demon King's face.
Unfortunately, the Demon King's everyday expressions were deliberately maintained. At this moment, with all his energy focused on the other end, the Demon King's face was smooth and round, without even any facial features, let alone any expression.
Within the soul fragments that collapsed due to the mental defense mechanism actively discarded by Lin Jun's setup...
The entire space of will had been filled with a devastating mental storm, like a meat grinder that, once activated, would run until destruction.
The mental energy surging around the Demon King helped him endure that initial, most ferocious wave of impact.
Not even the Demon King had anticipated such a scene.
"This is truly too crazy," he said, looking at this space that was about to completely shatter, a hint of realization in his voice. "No wonder no one could come out alive."
It was like opening a door and taking a point-blank blast of Doomsday Dragon Breath straight to the face.
For ordinary people, even if they had those sacrifices, they probably wouldn't even have the chance to use them before being directly annihilated.
Even the Demon King could only take it head-on just now; those exquisite mental energy techniques simply had no time to be executed in the face of such a violent storm.
Where did so many souls that could be casually discarded come from?
Not only that, the Demon King could feel that this space of will was being separated.
If it really got separated, then this exploration would end right here, and aside from the other party's method of counterattack, no information would have been obtained.
Naturally, the Demon King couldn't accept such a result.
Fortunately, the separation was not yet complete. Ordinary people couldn't seize this fleeting opportunity, but the Demon King was not ordinary.
The wild sand of his mental energy spun at high speed in a cone shape, forcefully drilling a gap through that violent storm. With a flicker of his will, the Demon King passed through that connection point, which was already on the verge of shattering.
Splash...
An azure sky stretched to infinity, and a boundless sea gently rose and fell beneath his feet.
There were no storms, no destruction, only a mental space whose end could not be detected no matter how far one stretched their perception.
Not immediately coming under attack, the Demon King, suspended in midair, was unprecedentedly solemn.
"This... a single person's mental space?"
"This is... a sea?"
A bad premonition welled up in the Demon King's heart.
At the same time, from the depths of the sea, a sharp explosion that shook the entire space rang out!
(End of Chapter)
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