Chapter 68: Abyssal Core

Chapter 68: Chapter 68: Abyssal Core

St. Aetherwing Magic Academy was built suspended in mid-air over the Empire’s largest ocean, not at all to show off its power, but because this was the area with the highest concentration of spatial Rifts.

Of course, during peacetime, all Rift entrances around the Sky City and the floating islands were strictly sealed by the academy, only permitted to open during specific periods.

And those "specific periods," for example... were the life-and-death examinations of the sixth-year students.

Once entering the sixth year, from midterms and finals to the comprehensive graduation exam, the sole criterion deciding whether a student was qualified to survive and graduate depended entirely on the number of monsters they hunted and killed. The academy employed this cold-blooded method to cultivate combat readiness, forcing students to mature before a true catastrophe befell the continent.

Unfortunately, not every creature on the Sylva continent turned toward the light. There were always those who considered themselves stumbling blocks in the way of the world’s survival.

Those were the native Demon race and countless heretical cults lurking in the shadows.

They did not fear the calamitous monsters swarming in from the Rifts; on the contrary, they harbored a mad delusion that they could enslave the monsters’ power to unify the continent.

Disregarding the apocalyptic consequences of failure, they enabled and aided the monsters’ invasion, while simultaneously using the most despicable methods to assassinate and persecute the warriors of the Human race and heterogenous races guarding the Rifts.

The Demon race intentionally shattered the barriers, causing many Human territories to remain engulfed in the flames of war against foreign invasion to this day. The monsters of the Wasteland carried primal, brutal instincts. Even without food or drink, they could survive, but they always viewed the flesh and blood of other races as a supreme delicacy, wishing nothing more than to chew the bones and swallow the marrow of all.

Destruction and devouring were instincts etched deep into their genetic code.

Even worse, recently, the fanatic cultists had insanely conducted crossbreeding experiments between the Demon race and Wasteland monsters, creating a slew of hybrid abominations bearing terrifying power and grotesque forms.

However, the pitch-black, highly corrosive demonic energy seeping from Griffin’s wound earlier carried an overwhelming pressure. Jeremy was certain that the one who injured Griffin was a pureblood monster born from the bottom of the Abyss, absolutely not some hybrid mutt created by a cult.

For ease of classification, ten thousand years ago, the major races merged the Wasteland monsters and the native Demon race into a single ten-realm system.

The word "Star" was used to represent the realms of the Wasteland monsters and hybrids. Meanwhile, "Tier One" to "Tier Ten Demonic Beast" was designated for the Sylva Demon race.

The seven basic realms from lowest to highest were: One-Star to Seven-Star.

The three supreme tiers that followed bore distinct names: Abyssal Tier (Eight-Star), Calamity Tier (Nine-Star), and Annihilation Tier (Ten-Star).

These three tiers rarely appeared, but once they descended, they would bring about absolute despair. Annihilation Tier monsters—existences equivalent to the human Mage God realm—had only appeared a mere nine times over the past millions of years. Yet, every time they awakened, they brought the threat of world destruction.

In human history, only seven mages had ever reached the pinnacle of Mage God. Even if one gathered the powerhouses of the heterogenous races, one could only count twelve individuals capable of matching this realm. Ultimately, all of them had to sacrifice themselves, using their lives to perish together with the Annihilation Tier monsters. The mortality rate of these powerhouses was one hundred percent.

After ten thousand years, resources had been depleted, and no living being on the continent had touched the threshold of Mage God again. Fortunately, Annihilation Tier monsters had never reappeared either. However, Abyssal and Calamity Tier monsters still surfaced occasionally, claiming the lives of countless Origin and Holy Demon realm mages.

That was why, despite the Human race having a population in the tens of billions, the death rate on the battlefield consistently far exceeded the birth rate. To protect the race, all the best resources were poured into the magic academies.

Spatial Rifts were classified by danger levels from S, A, B, C, down to F, exactly like deadly dungeons. Even an F-rank Rift was more than capable of burying the weak.

Yet Griffin dared to push a bunch of greenhorn first-year students into the Wasteland world. This man, if not insane, was definitely someone with tyrannical tendencies.

Jeremy stared at Griffin’s calm face, his chest heaving, trying to awaken the last shred of conscience in his teacher: "Are you really planning to throw us into the Wasteland? We haven’t been enrolled for long, and the number of spells we’ve mastered is completely insufficient for self-defense."

It was true that he had self-taught a few spells, but the majority were just basic control skills and restorative healing. Large-scale area-of-effect damage or high-level defensive spells required condensing time and absolute precision. Fumbling around without a guide, a single millimeter of error on the battlefield meant paying with one’s life.

Griffin smirked, leaning back slightly against the metal bed frame: "What’s the rush? Wait until we get to the Wasteland; I will naturally teach you."

This statement made Jeremy freeze for a moment. A flash of surprise darted through the depths of his eyes: "You... will be going with us?"

Since when did this terrible mentor suddenly grow a conscience?

Griffin glanced at Jeremy and gave a soft snort: "If you want to lead the team yourself, that works too. It makes things even easier for me."

"No, I don’t harbor such grand thoughts," Jeremy retorted without skipping a beat. "We need you very much."

Griffin didn’t bother to argue further. He rolled his wrist, and several pitch-black, diamond-shaped crystals instantly appeared, hovering in mid-air. He waved his hand, sending them flying over to stop in front of Jeremy and Lucius.

"Wasteland monsters are just like the Demon race; their power converges in their cores. The Wasteland cores are called Demon Soul Crystals. A Tier One Demon Soul Crystal is worth 1 merit point, a Tier Two is 10, a Tier Three is 100, multiplying exponentially like so. By Tier Seven, the value is 1,000,000 points.

Compared to cleaning the library or doing trivial tasks around the school, hunting and killing Wasteland monsters will bring you far more practical benefits."