Greatest Legacy of the Magus Universe

Chapter 1235: Place to Heal

The interior of the mysterious black cube was devoid of any light. The air felt heavy and suffocating. It seemed that no one had visited this place in years—perhaps centuries even.

Other than that, it was a mana-rich paradise. The air felt heavy precisely because of the mana particles merrily dancing in the air, seemingly waiting for a Magus to absorb them.

But, of course, Adam couldn’t practice mindfulness.

In fact, he hadn’t yet regained consciousness since the day he’d entered the secret pathway and arrived inside the cube.

That day was apocalyptic.

Five Mana Core-level beasts and thousands of weaker beasts had turned the lost city of Feypore into a brutal battlefield.

Blood flowed in streams, dying the ruined streets in a deep crimson. Corpses were scattered across the city, some rotten while others were being eaten by scavengers.

Now, Feypore had become a mana-rich zone free for all. There was no one particular kind of beast—or beasts—that ruled over it. Anyone could come here and stay here... provided they were strong enough to survive the onslaught of other beasts.

Just like Adam had speculated, towards the end of the battle between the great beasts, only the grey alpha and the griffin king had survived. The weakened wolf could not occupy Feypore all by itself, so it fled with the remaining members of its pack.

As for the griffin king, it took to the skies and returned to its nest high up in the hills. But from time to time, it would lead a flock of griffins through the clouds and arrive at Feypore to enjoy the rich mana permeating the air.

At the center of it all, the man responsible for orchestrating the war between the great beasts lay unmoving. His chest heaved up and down as he gasped for air, and his body was a cruel map of scars and wounds.

Blood pooled beneath him in great amounts. Such blood loss should have killed an ordinary Mana Vortex Magus, but Adam practiced the Astral Tyrant Manual, making his body far more resilient.

Suddenly, the unmoving body of the mad Magus shifted. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, and the next moment...

Gasp!

”Ugh,” A groan escaped Adam’s lips as he quickly turned over and vomited a mouthful of blood among... other things.

”Gege! Gege!” The mimic, now in its chest form, quickly scrambled towards the youth and started jumping in joy.

”Guhh... how long... was I out?” Adam asked as he struggled to sit upright.

He felt hot all over. He felt cold all over. He felt weak all over.

Shivering uncontrollably, he somehow crawled towards the wall of the tunnel and sat with his back resting against it.

”Damn it, I think... I think I have a severe fever,” he muttered in a shaky voice.

He turned towards the mimic and weakly added, ”Gege... empty all the herbs and potions... and take out a blanket... quick!”

”Gege! Gege!” The mimic opened its maw wide and emptied out everything. The little guy could not differentiate between what was medicine and what wasn’t.

Adam first enveloped himself in a thick blanket, then he brushed his trembling fingers over all the herbs and potion vials, at the same time concentrating the Sphere of Resonance on them.

He couldn’t help but feel fortunate for having taken the time to brew several potions in the Feypore Magus’s study during the days leading up to the battle between the five great beasts. Those potions were proving invaluable now.

The youth chugged a bunch of potions first, then applied powder and ointments to the gaping wounds that littered his body. His temperature started to steadily lower, and he began feeling slightly better.

”...Now, for the hard part,” he murmured while observing his broken right hand.

Adam retrieved a sturdy piece of wood, which was about the length of his forearm. Then, he aligned his broken arm as best he could, gritting through the unbearable pain to keep the bones in place.

For several minutes, the interior of the black cube was filled with his agonizing screams.

He then placed the wood along the underside of his arm for support, wrapped cloth tightly around it from wrist to elbow to hold it steady, and secured it firmly to prevent movement.

At last, he heaved a sigh of relief, his lips curling into a wide, unnatural grin.

And then... he laughed.

He laughed and laughed and laughed.

When his voice grew hoarse, he finally fell silent.

Right at that moment, the strangely familiar voice of the white-robed Adam echoed directly inside his mind:

”Do not set foot into the chamber until you’ve fully healed. That would undo months of hard work and planning.”

”...I know,” Adam weakly murmured. ”I’m not that crazy.”

He turned towards the chamber beside him. The center of the chamber was occupied by a black pedastal. It, along with the walls and ceiling, was carved in mysterious runes. Many of them were diabolical traps set by the Cult.

In his current state, it would be unwise to traverse the sea of traps.

”Fine, whatever...” he muttered hoarsely. He leaned back against the wall of the tunnel, his lips curling into a wide grin.

”Rest feels like a distant memory,” he added.

The next moment, an apparition materialized beside him. Adam didn’t flinch, for he knew who it was.

Donned in immaculate robes, the tall and handsome figure of the white-robed Adam appeared beside him, leaning against the wall of the tunnel.

”There’s no rest for the wicked, old sport,” he said with a faint smile. ”Now that you don’t have to constantly worry about being ambushed by beasts, it is time to decipher the ravings of the Laughing God.”

”Yes,” Adam murmured. ”Yes, I’ll do that later...”

The Laughing God continued to whisper, and he continued to listen.

But Adam was tired. Too tired.

The place he was in was the perfect place to recuperate. In fact, in all of Tron, one couldn’t ask for a better place to heal and regain one’s strength.

The white-robed Adam dissipated into nothingness.

Soon, Adam too drifted off to sleep.

The mimic silently walked towards the youth and nestled by his side. And a few moments later, it too was fast asleep.