Age of Adepts

Chapter 1355 Trouble in the Central Lands

A magic surge was coming!

What was a magic surge?

Just half a day after the conclusion of the Crimson Conference, this bewitching term started to spread to every corner of the Central Lands like a plague.

However, the news did not spread uncontrollably outward. It was contained amongst the adepts.

The ordinary civilians and haughty nobles were completely ignorant. They lived their busy lives as always, hunting, trading, and farming; they were oblivious to the terrifying calamity that would befall this world.

The adepts had locked down all information, preventing any cause of panic among the mortals.

However, when the news spread amongst the adepts, many of them were just as confused.

What was a magic surge? Where did it come from? What threat did this pose to them? Why did the legendary fire adept who had unified the Central Lands in name summoned everyone to Crimson Wing just to convey this news? Was a magic surge such a terrifying event?

Endless questions and doubts flooded the minds of most adepts. They could only dive into books and papers, hoping to find information on magic surges in the vast sea of knowledge.

Once every ten thousand years…an eruption of magic energy…the appearance of spatial rifts…magical creature intrusions…starbeast invasions.

Numerous shocking words jumped off the pages at the adepts, each one chilling and terrifying to behold. Ten thousand years was simply far too long for them, long enough for history to turn into legend and truth into myth.

Now, when the world showed them the true face of history once again, every single adept was stunned. Once again, they felt their insignificance against the vastness of the universe.

Adepts were some of the most elite individuals in this world, enjoying a debaucherous life of luxury and authority. However, they were hardly a splash in the overwhelming river of the multiverse’s history. At the very best, they were only a tiny drop of water that flowed along the river, living their small, perfect little lives.

They were much like summer insects who could never speak of ice, believing themselves to have understood the world fully after flying to so many gardens and visiting so many patches of grass. They lived carefree lives, enjoying themselves to the fullest and burning up the rest of their lives in a mere summer.

How could they possibly know what lay beyond the warmth and heat of summer days?

How could they know that after the chilly autumn winds would come the white-clad world of winter and then spring, where all things came to life?

Those who could become adepts had a much longer lifespan than mortals. In their eyes, mortals were these summer insects, ignorant to the world’s truth and cruelty.

Adepts understood the planar worlds and had their sights set on the realms beyond. They had witnessed a greater, larger, and more majestic world beyond the one they resided in. However, just when these adepts had believed themselves to have grasped the world’s pulse, this one unfamiliar term dragged them into a completely foreign domain.

The adepts might be beings as powerful as gods themselves in the eyes of mortals. However, in the eyes of truly powerful existences, these adepts were as frail as ants. They were so insignificant it wasn’t even worth mentioning them.

They should not have run into such a universal calamity given their short lifespans that lasted only a few hundred years. For better or worse, they were fortunate enough to personally experience this overwhelming and mysterious magic surge in ten years.

Yellowed and tattered tomes were dug out of libraries, and pieces of classified secrets from ancient books were uncovered. All the information put together, pieced together, made for a bloody picture!

Magic surges were horrifying things. The horror of a magic surge was beyond their imagination!

According to incomplete records that the adepts managed to uncover, the last time the World of Adepts experienced a magic surge was 8,500 years ago. This coming magic surge was about 1,500 years early.

The last time the magic tides in space turned turbulent, it lasted for a hundred years, causing a dozen waves of magic surges. The damage inflicted on the World of Adepts during that period was unimaginable. The population of the Central Lands was reduced by more than half, and as many as thirty percent of the adepts died in the line of battle.

Of course, that wasn’t the worst of it!

According to the ancient records, the Adept’s Association was the one who suffered the most severe casualties.

A massive spatial rift had appeared there, and a shocking number of starbeasts had swarmed in. They had ravaged the land, causing the Adept’s Association’s population to shrink by two-thirds and over fifty percent of its adepts to die.

One had to admit that the magic surge that lasted for a hundred years had profoundly changed the World of Adepts.

Inkdeep Valley, located in Adept’s Association territory, was said to be the terrifying remnant of a bloody battle between an ultra-powerhouse adept and an intruding starbeast. It had been several thousand years now, and the marks left upon the world had yet to fade.

That alone was a testament to the ferocity and terror of that fight!

The mega-rift left in the Ahlden Clan’s territory was also a remnant from the last magic surge. It was a rift that the World of Adepts could not patch up, even now.

Along with the news of the incoming magic surge came the Crimson Conference’s firm and indisputable instructions.

Clear out the Black Forest, search for spatial weak points, migrate core population to more stable regions, andincrease construction of war towers.

It was a preparation guide from the Crimson Clan, and it would serve as the defense strategy for the entire Central Lands in the next ten years!

When the Central adepts finally digested this news of a magic surge, the region was soon filled with complaints and lamentations.

It was important to note that every Fourth Grade adept, upon advancement, would declare the most bountiful region available as their clan headquarters. Naturally, such a place would be a safe place, far from the Black Forest and surrounded by other areas.

Bit by bit, the numerous small and mid-sized clans were forced to the edge of the Central Lands. Without any exception, all of them would face the danger of a stampede from the Black Forest.

These smaller clans all had numerous hunting parties, trained to delve into the Black Forest to hunt for valuable magical creatures and resources. In peaceful times, the Black Forest was not only not a threat to these clans, but also a tremendous trove of treasure and resources.

Should the magic surge arrive, this situation would turn entirely on its head.

The hunters would become the hunted as the scattered magical creatures gathered together and unleashed a stampede upon the human clans.

It was unknown if these smaller clans could defend against these stampedes without the same wealth and power as the major clans!

The fall of an adept tower did not just signify the loss of the lives of a dozen adepts and a hundred apprentices. The human cities and settlements protected by those towers would burn and be reduced to food for the tens of thousands of wild beasts.

Given the intelligence of adepts, they were able to quickly come to a conclusion about what would happen based on interference and deduction.

If the magic surge were as terrifying as claimed in the ancient records, then the adept clans of the Central Lands would face an unprecedented reshuffling of power. Most clans and organizations without the power to defend themselves would disappear beneath the hooves of the stampede.

The surviving adept clans then only had to survive the magic surge’s first few waves, protecting their territories and adept towers. What awaited them would be a tremendous increase in influence and power.

There were two sides to everything in the world!

Magic surges were terrifying affairs and apocalyptic calamities. On the other hand, they also brought along incredible benefits.

Naturally, the first was the increase in magical creature resources.

Ferocious magical creatures not seen in a hundred years and fearsome starbeasts rarely spotted in a thousand years would all appear, hoping to feast on the flesh and souls of humans. Defeat them, and the surviving adepts would obtain a once-unimaginable amount of resources.

With the sustenance of these resources and the trials of fighting, most adepts’ chances to advance to a higher grade were amplified tremendously. From a certain point of view, you could see it as intentional guidance and feedback from the planar consciousness!

Aid the World of Adepts in eliminating the enemy and the intruders, and the planar consciousness would reward you indirectly, allowing your soul to rise in power rapidly.

By helping the World of Adepts, you would be helping yourself!

The second benefit would be the change in the environment. The increase in magical particles would stimulate the birth of more, stronger, and more excellent descendants.

In the Words of Adepts, the number of human babies with magic talent born during the magic surge would increase ten-fold, a hundred-fold. If all these children were cultivated properly, the adepts would enjoy an exponential increase in number.

As for the other benefits? Those were benefits that only high-grade adepts could enjoy.

After all, chaos in the planar worlds was also the best time for them to venture into the muddy waters!

The World of Gods was usually well-defended, with barely any chances of infiltration or invasion. Now, with the coming of the magic surge, their planar barrier would be full of holes. It was the best time for those with grudges to repay them, and for those with none to obtain resources.

At the very least, Greem intended to go for a stroll in Faen Plane!

After all, Alice had begged for Greem to destroy Faen Plane following the death of Endor. Greem could not possibly accomplish such a feat given his current powers. However, he should have no trouble going over to Faen for a stroll and have a conversation with a few old friends.

In particular, the Elven Sword Saint Agassi had forced Greem to flee all over Faen. He was also the one who had personally killed Endor. He kept all these grudges fresh in his mind!

Of course, if he had the time, he could also go for a round of harvesting in the Holy Knight Plane. It had been more than two hundred years now. Surely, a new batch of holy knights must have emerged.

Though Greem no longer needed the means of improving Spirit by devouring souls–with all its defects and problems–he could still use it to cultivate the next generation of adepts in the clan.