Chapter 381
When the martial artists of the Martial World discovered that the passage had reopened, the mages saw them too, and even overheard their words. Yet no one paid them any mind—they simply waited in silence for the Array Masters to widen the passage.
Once the Array Masters finished their work, Adam and the other three Archmages charged into the Martial World without hesitation. Each unleashed combat techniques of their own creation, slaughtering the high-ranking martial artists guarding the passage while collecting Martial Cores.
After Adam’s group carved out a foothold, the remaining fifty Senior Mages ascended and joined the battle as well.
The other four mortal worlds encountered nearly identical situations. This was nothing less than a massacre—the martial artists had no ability to resist.
The general state of the Martial World had been described beforehand by Maggie, who had once entered. The five ascension passages were spread across the four Martial Worlds, guarded by the Martial Alliance. The cities where the passages emerged were major hubs, with nearly every race and school establishing branches there, in order to receive ascendants from their clans at the first moment.
The more branches, the more advanced techniques gathered there. After the five teams slaughtered their way through the Ascension Cities, they fortified them into iron-clad bastions. For the time being, they did not venture out, instead holding their ground and pooling their harvests together to deduce a cultivation method that would evolve the Martial Core once more.
Every mage could sense clearly that the quality of vital energy in the Martial World was on an entirely different level compared to the Mortal Worlds. Each unit of vital energy carried greater power, reinforcing their bodies even further—though still inferior to mana.
After a month of collaboration, the mages created a universal method. It discarded excess elemental attributes and focused on enhancing absorption and conversion of vital energy.
Thus, these cities became black holes of energy, devouring vital energy every day at a rate several times greater than what was sent to the Sacred World.
The martial artists of the Martial World felt as if they were sitting on pins and needles. They all knew: if this situation was not stopped, before the next century passed, there would be no vital energy left. Their Energy-Devouring Cells would turn against them without replenishment, and the backlash meant only one end—death.
Half a year of probing had shown them how terrifyingly strong the rebels were. Not even remotely could they withstand them.
Yet descending from the Sacred World was not like martial artists entering the Mortal World. First, one would need to demote themselves, forcibly dispersing their high-grade energy and dropping from the Martial Saint realm downward. No one was willing to do such a thing. Countless requests for aid were sent, yet no Martial Saint descended.
They could only try to save themselves. They began to form alliances, to gather intelligence, followed by endless blame-shifting, scheming, and evasion of responsibility.
Two years later, Adam and the other Archmages had all advanced their vital energy to the Martial Saint realm. They moved out in full force, plundering resources.
The five teams struck out across the Martial World in different directions. Along the way, every city they encountered was destroyed, every person slain. Wherever they passed, nothing remained—only wastelands of depleted energy.
According to precedent from handling remnants of the Third Epoch, such behavior would never have been permitted. But the mages had upheld their promise—they had no doubts about Adam’s plan, carrying it out without condition.
“Remember,” Adam reminded, “if you encounter an Artificer, don’t kill them immediately. Force out their methods and inheritances. If we fail to capture beings from the Divine Realm, then the artificers’ techniques for converting ordinary energy into vital energy will be crucial.”
This march was too slow; time was now their greatest rival—the Divine Realm could descend at any moment. Adam took out a map, planned several routes, and said, “Timothy, let’s split up. We’ll regroup in the Central City of the Martial World.”
After splitting, Adam led twelve Senior Mages along the planned path. Aside from the Central City, there were twenty-one cities on this route. They destroyed sixteen in succession, and the spoils enabled four mages to advance to Martial Saint.
Between the fifth and fourth cities, they discovered a valley brimming with surging energy.
The concentration of vital energy here was abnormal—greater than in any city they had seen.
Before Adam could order the attack, the energy transformed mysteriously. Ancient, intricate artifacts rose into the sky, locking onto Adam’s group.
Then, more than a hundred figures flew from the valley, each standing beside an artifact and sneering. A booming voice echoed through the mountains:
“You rebels are truly bold—you even dare to provoke the Sect of Artifice.”
Adam gestured lightly. The mages fanned out to advantageous positions. Among these martial artists stood seventeen Martial Saints—a tough nut indeed.
“Do you know,” the voice continued, “the Sect of Artifice inherits directly from the Divine Sovereigns? For countless ages, no one has dared provoke us. I don’t know whether to call you ignorant or fearless. Perhaps we have kept too low a profile for too long, and the world has forgotten—”
Adam cut off his boasting, asking directly: “Is this the only stronghold of the Sect of Artifice in the Martial World?”
“Stronghold?” The speaker thought for a moment, realizing Adam meant sect. He laughed derisively: “Ignorant indeed. Who doesn’t know that each of the four Martial Worlds houses a Sect of Artifice?”
Adam nodded. “Good. Then let’s begin. During battle, do your best not to kill the Sect’s Martial Saints unless necessary. I need their Martial Cores.”
The moment he finished, thirteen mages attacked at once. Their combat techniques were completely foreign to the artificers. Before half of the Sect’s disciples could even command their artifacts, they were blasted into fragments.
The remaining disciples panicked, retreating into their artifacts while channeling them to draw energy and strike back.
Seventeen Martial Saints of the Sect erupted in fury, their energy surging skyward. Their methods resembled alchemy—they could refine their own and ambient vital energy into constructs worn on their bodies, further enhancing their strength.
But this was courting death. Against Adam, who commanded a complete set of nanobots, externalized power was their greatest weakness.
Adam drew out Garfield, shook him loose with one hand, and hurled him at the Sect’s Martial Saints.
Garfield vanished mid-flight, merging silently into the ambient energy and infiltrating their bodies.
Then, with brute force, he seized their energy nodes, severing flows of power. The artificers’ constructs instantly became shackles and burdens.
The outcome was inevitable.
Adam’s group swept through the Sect at record speed, confiscating every artifact they had crafted. Regretfully, they found no written inheritances or secret methods.