Volume Dragon: Start by obtaining the Infinity Gems

Chapter 288 The Red Robe Mage's Conspiracy

"Guest, please put away your pet." The red-robed wizard glanced at Nemesis's cloak with silver lines, and his pupils shrank slightly.

The runes embroidered with star-shaped silver thread were reorganizing themselves, and the complexity was so great that even a 19th-level necromancer like him could not tell the grade. He put the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth and quietly activated the True Sight, but found that even the other party's cloak seemed like a dazzling silver light in the True Sight.

"Bring two inferior creatures to the Scarlet Spire." The second mouth on Basu's abdomen moved silently, savoring the remaining magical fluctuations in the air.

The old guide smelled of cheap tobacco and camel dung, and the restless energy fluctuations around the boy were clearly untamed—a perfect combination of slave and experiment. His black nails traced the dealer's secret gestures on his sleeves, guessing that this mysterious visitor might be a fellow trader.

Nemesis threw out a space bag full of gold coins: "We need services to remove the curse."

The red-robed wizard's mind was in a whirlwind of thoughts. He was the supreme commander of this stronghold, and originally, for such a trivial matter as the arrival of outsiders, he would never be asked to come in person.

But
He secretly glanced at the scrapped Stitched Beast that had fallen to the ground. Just now, the necromancy seal he had engraved in the soul of the Stitched Beast was instantly eliminated by some force.

Along with the power core of the Stitched Beast, it was completely absorbed by some unknown force.

There was no spell he knew that could produce such an effect.

Logically speaking, he should have suspected that it was the man in front of him who had no visible magical power fluctuations but was dressed in unusual clothes from head to toe who did it.

But the energy fluctuations from the little boy behind the man constantly reminded Basu's intuition.

This kid did it.

Although no one knew how he did it, the moment the barbarian child saw it, he destroyed the level 16 undead stitched beast that he had spent million gold coins to make.

What a pleasant surprise.

The red-robed wizard's pupils shrank into needle-like shapes, and he licked his lips. The soul stone necklace around his neck was humming greedily. "Of course, of course."

Basu's black nails touched Wuermu's chin lightly, "But this little guest needs to do a small test first."

He led the three people into the tower and came to a laboratory filled with instruments.

Alathar's pale fingers stroked the crystal table. Thirty-seven soul-binding threads hung from the ceiling, the ends of which were connected to the hyoid bones of different races.

"Let's see the quality of this 'curse'." He flicked his finger to light the dark green candlestick, and the candle flame reflected a flickering ghost shadow in Wuermu's eyes.

The siphon prism in the center of the testing room suddenly hummed. This Nether relic that could decompose the principles of any spell of the ninth ring or below actually began to frost when the boy stepped into the magic circle. "Interesting." The second mouth on the red robe wizard's abdomen secreted acid, corroding the silk lining.

He pretended to adjust the arcane kaleidoscope, but in fact he used the peeping eye to scan Urumu - the boy in the lens was not a human figure at all, but a boiling blue-white nebula.

The Volume Dragon leaned against the obsidian pillar. He watched the red-robed wizard's blood vessels turn from purple to black and his heart beat faster and faster with excitement, but he remained indifferent.

In contrast, he was more concerned about the strange prism used by the other party. It looked like just a device to assist in the study of spells, but it did not seem to be the style that contemporary wizards in Faerun were accustomed to using.

It looked quite ancient. "Is this a cursed fire?!" Alathel finally tore open his collar, revealing the Spell Devouring Hive embedded in his chest. "Come with me, kid, a deep inspection is needed."

He swallowed loudly. "We need more sophisticated equipment."

Old Akbar suddenly grabbed Ulm's tattered cloak, revealing dark brown blood words on the lining - it was "Don't trust the red robe" carved in blood.

The old guide pointed at the half-melted body of the Sand People in the iron cage in the dark room, and a whimper like a trapped beast came from his throat.

But the boy shook his hand off, and the tragic deaths of his adoptive parents and the shaman flashed in his memory: "It's better than being burned to ashes!"

Nemesis remained silent.

“You’re just going to watch him die?” Old Akbar signed in tribal sign language, tears puddling in his wrinkles.

The scroll dragon finally spoke, but his voice only echoed in the guide's mind: "Wisdom is born from burning pain, just like a desert rose blooming from a corpse."

There were seven sudden crisp sounds from Alathir's spine - this was the unique sound when he activated the hive of spell-devouring insects that was parasitic on his chest.

His left hand hidden in his sleeve was forming seals, and a triple protective barrier quietly unfolded along the tattoo on his spine. A faint green light seeped out from the fingertips of his right hand. He had spent an eighth-ring spell slot to prepare the [Silent Disintegration], and all these preparations were concealed by the wide scarlet sleeves.

"Please rest assured," the red-robed wizard turned to Nemesis and gave him a black smile with decayed teeth. A tattoo of a spell that could detect lies appeared on his Adam's apple. "The treatment room has the most complete protection measures."

He deliberately let the words tremble, pretending to be concerned, but his bloodshot eyes were fixed on Nemesis' temple - that was the weak point of most humans.

The scroll dragon tapped the obsidian pillar with his nails. He could see all the little movements of the red-robed wizard. Even if he didn't use spells to silently cast a spell, he could still sense the fluctuations of magic power. So he nodded and said, "Professional matters should be left to the experts."

This sentence almost made Alathel's back teeth break. He didn't expect the other party to be so obedient, but suspected a trick, so he secretly activated the communication crystal embedded in his molars - thirty flesh golems hidden in the wall opened their compound eyes at the same time. But the red-robed wizard still maintained a kind expression on his face, and even used illusion to force a few drops of crystal "worry sweat" on his forehead.

When the secret door completely swallowed up Ulm, a flash of white light flashed in the depths of Nemesis' pupils, and the prophecy detected all 27 deadly traps set by Alathel. The scroll dragon folded his hands elegantly, and this action happened to let his sleeves brush against old Akbar's tribal amulet - the old guide could suddenly see through the wall and see the real scene inside the laboratory.

"This is..." The old guide looked at Nemesis in doubt, and the latter just made a 'quiet' gesture.

Realizing that the other party did not seem to be completely ignoring the boy, old Akbar breathed a sigh of relief and calmed down a little.

Alasel's laboratory was filled with the smell of moldy parchment, and the walls were suspended with projections of incorrectly translated Nether scrolls. When Ulm was led into the central magic circle, the projections suddenly flickered violently - the incomplete chapters about the "Magic Devourer" in the ancient book were automatically completed.

"Let's verify the wisdom of the ancients, the legendary [Curse Fire]." The red-robed wizard activated the replacement device with greedy eyes, which was covered with patina. This was the original equipment dug out from the ruins of the ancient arcane empire. Thirty-six magical creature hearts beat in the glass jar, serving as an energy buffer for stripping the curse fire.

According to the scroll's instructions, Alathar cut his palm and used his blood to draw control runes that were full of errors - he had no idea that the owner of the book was actually only at the guessing stage and had never actually tested the possibility.

When the first replacement beam enveloped Ulm, the laboratory suddenly fell into absolute darkness. It was not the disappearance of light, but the engulfment of all magical light sources by the cursed fire. Alathar was horrified to find that the hearts of those carefully prepared magical creatures were turning blue-white, just like the star flames surging around the boy's body, flowing along the ducts and contaminating the energy source.

"Impossible! The Book of Cursed Fire clearly states it." The red-robed wizard frantically flipped the suspended projection of the ancient book, trying to stop everything.

(End of this chapter)