T0 Gaming Guild Saves the World.

Chapter 624, Section 623: Sun Shower

Gorcalon slowly faded into the background.

He was furious and determined to use his necromancy creations to overwhelm the clueless jailer and show him who the real necromancy master was!
The strange flow of the magic gave him a chill.

Turning around abruptly, I saw a deathly stillness, with huge, pale frog eyes right in front of me.

The frog-headed stitched monster spewed out magical energy, accompanied by a sharp, blade-like tongue that lashed out from the air, and swung it fiercely.

A crisp, loud cracking sound rang out.

Gorcalon was completely caught off guard by this sudden betrayal, and his ethereal transformation was abruptly interrupted.

The force of the blow sent him flying backward, crashing heavily to the ground. His body trembled violently, and the ethereal state he had painstakingly cultivated completely dissipated, forcing him to revert to his solid form.

"You inferior creation!"

Gorcalon's eyes were bloodshot; if he still had flesh and blood, his lips would probably have been bitten to a bloody pulp by now.

He was overwhelmed by endless humiliation and rage.

The core ethereal ability of the Frog-Headed Stitches was developed under his supervision.

In Eternal Night, this is his exclusive skill, unique to him.

Now, the creations I personally oversaw have become a weapon in someone else's hands, a tool against my ethereal nature.

What a shame!
Enraged, Gorcalon ignored everything else and stretched out his bloodless arm, his five fingers seemingly grasping the head of the frog-headed stitched monster.

"Give it back to me!"

As he spoke, magic surged forth like a tidal wave, pouring into the Stitches monster's body, intending to forcibly reclaim control of this creation that originally belonged to him with absolute power.

"A sixth-tier mage, you think you can compete with me in magical power? How arrogant!" Seeing that the jailer wouldn't let go and was still forcefully injecting magic power, Gorkaron grinned maliciously. "I'll make you pay the price!"

His smile froze the moment the violent collision occurred within the embedded magic circle of the Stitched Monster.

Gorcalon noticed something was wrong.

How can this 6th-tier mage have such abundant magical power?
A profound sense of weight, far exceeding the current level, rolled in.

Although the opponent's total magical power was indeed far inferior to his, and he was forced to retreat under his violent attacks, the magical power belonging to the jailer was exceptionally "resilient".

It was not driven away in an overwhelming manner, but rather stubbornly entangled for several seconds before reluctantly and slowly surrendering the areas originally soaked in magic patterns, like the receding tide.

The brief stalemate ended in his victory, but it brought Gorcalon no joy whatsoever.

An inexplicable and eerie feeling rose within him.

Distracted, he peered outside and stared at Orange Tea standing behind the jailer, and was taken aback.

I originally thought that Orange Tea was only responsible for providing blessings and was a purely support-oriented character that I didn't need to pay attention to. But she and the jailer brother were able to become one.

It's like a puppet equipped with two magic cores, resonating with magic, absorbing magic, and sharing the same cycle.

Does Devilland possess such magic?

"It doesn't matter. Even with perfect teamwork, I still win in terms of quality!"

Gorcalon's magic surged like a burst dam, forcing the jailer's "tenacious" magic back into every corner of the embedded magic circle.

They are only one step away from overturning all magic and regaining control.

In his eyes, the prison guard's tenacious, slippery magic, which slithered cunningly within the magic circle, was nothing more than a stubborn refusal to admit defeat, which made people laugh.

A faint, yet powerful cracking sound, enough to stop Gor'kron's heart and lungs, came from the depths of the frog-headed stitched monster's core.

The Frankenstein's massive body stiffened, and the magic gathered in its mouth dissipated.

The pair of pale frog eyes blinked violently, and the octopus tentacles that served as legs thrashed about wildly.

Like a machine whose power has been cut off, it crashed to the ground, its massive body kicking up a cloud of dust, and the light in its eyes dimmed completely.

Gorcalon realized what the jailer had done.

Using its magic, it pried open a key node in the Frankenstein's monster's embedded magic circle, and with minimal effort, detonated the magic circle's chain reaction.

In terms of quantity, he certainly didn't lose.

But he was easily manipulated by the prison guard with his ingenuity.

Realizing that he had been outmaneuvered by a mere 6th-tier mage in a magical contest where he had no chance of losing, Gorkaron's rage soared to the heavens.

This insult was far greater than the jailer's mockery that he would never again experience the ecstasy of flesh and blood.

"I will place your soul on the box of life and burn it, burn it forever!"

"Oh, oh, oh, so urgent, so urgent!" The jailer clapped his hands vigorously, trying to boost Gorcalon's favorability.

Mint Mom was right.

This skill of cleverly breaking the deadlock was one of the classic elements that allowed Mint to defeat Renee in the puppet showdown back then.

Even before she arrived, she meticulously taught all the essential points in the small classroom—the same familiar teaching method, where she practically wanted to shove rice into the children's mouths, afraid that the boundaries between reality and illusion would go hungry.

Gorcalon suddenly opened his arms, unleashing a terrifying suction force from his body!

In an instant, the swarming zombies and wailing spirits around him, as well as the remains of the annihilated spirits that had not yet completely dissipated in the distance, all seemed to be grabbed by an invisible giant hand and surged madly toward him.

The zombie's body quickly withered and dissipated, transforming into a torrent of pure negative energy, which Gorcalon greedily absorbed and devoured.

The overwhelming amount of energy surged in instantly, causing his spirit to swell and twist, emitting extremely unstable and dangerous fluctuations.

The jailer underestimated his own level of hatred.

After two consecutive taunts, Gorcalon's "favorability rating" skyrocketed.

Even if consuming too many necromantic materials at once would affect his ability to continue fighting, he still had to sacrifice the jailer brother to the heavens first.

The surging magical power of the ritual magic converged into a vortex, and a dark purple-black current flowed over his feet.

The excess magic power that could not be fully controlled and was raging out from the gaps in his spirit had already begun to indiscriminately destroy everything around him.

The ground trembled violently, and black energy lightning lashed out like a raging serpent, tearing apart bookshelves and debris.

Bone dust swirled in the billowing smoke. The burning flames were extinguished by scorching magic, only to be reignited in the next second, turning into an eerie, ghostly green.

The area around Gorcalon has become an extremely dangerous zone of magical chaos.

The black lightning formed from out-of-control magic, like the scythe of death, twisted the air and struck the jailer's head at an unavoidable speed.

Orange Tea quickly switched off "powered" mode, swiftly activated, and narrowly escaped the fatal blow while holding onto the prison guard.

Gorkaron was enveloped in a deep blue light, with a powerful beam of light piercing the dome like a beacon.

Everyone on the 10th floor can see this by looking up.

"Corrupted Corpse Explosion!"

Realizing what the other party was trying to do, the jailer hurriedly blasted the mine, but he was still a beat too slow.

There are no more creations that the jailer can use.

Centered on Gorcalon, all the necromantic creations of the 10th floor of the Great Archives became nourishment for this spectacular and grand ritual magic.

With a slight thought, his magic spiraled out of control, wildly destroying the surrounding magic, which was then forcibly gathered together by countless unseen giant hands.

Dozens or even hundreds of dark green magical mist spheres, like living floating turrets, floated in the air, slowly rotating, with ominous black arcs of electricity leaping across their surfaces.

Dark clouds loomed overhead, and lightning flashed.

The necromantic aura extracted from the dead is cold and oppressive.

Before the two could react, the dark green energy orbs trembled slightly at the same time.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh!!"

A piercing sound instantly tore through the air.

Dark green energy beams, exuding an aura of death and decay, rained down from the sky like a storm.

He walks with a brisk pace and is still doing his best.

The two dodged and weaved amidst a hail of beams of light from the floating cannons.

The terrifying energy that annihilated life corroded deep pits in the ground wherever it passed.

The interplay of light cast a ghastly green hue over the guard's pale, somber face, and the shadow of death instantly seeped into his entire body like icy water—the floating cannons restricted movement, and Gorkaron's counter-attack had arrived.

A thick, dark green beam of light rose from the ground, tearing through the air and destroying all obstacles in its path.

An irresistible, immense suction force suddenly erupted from the core of the pillar of light.

It was as if a small black hole had suddenly appeared there, frantically pulling and swallowing everything around it.

The jailer felt his body suddenly sink, as if countless cold hands were gripping his limbs and torso, roughly dragging him toward the path of the destructive pillar of light.

"Holy crap, the mystery's getting bigger?" His mouth just wouldn't stop talking.

His resistance plowed deep furrows into the ground beneath his feet.

The speed provided by "walking with the wind" seems pale and powerless in the face of this pulling force.

The jailer gritted his teeth and poured all his magic into his legs in an attempt to stabilize himself, but he was still unable to stop being dragged toward death by the terrifying suction.

Orange tea.

"Ugh?"

Orange Tea suddenly felt light.

The jailer transferred his blessing to her with a swift movement, and with a sudden push, the orange tea was freed from the suction force.

If only one person could survive, it should be orange tea, and the jailer never changed his mind.

"gold……"

"Holy Word!"

Amidst the soaring chants, dazzling golden light descended from the sky, as if a righteous god, having vanquished evil, had hurled a holy sword, easily severing the ghostly hand that was dragging the jailer into hell.

He was somewhat stunned, having prepared to face his death.

"Still spacing out!"

Jiang Heyi's anxious and angry shouting gave the jailer goosebumps.

Bathed in a pale golden light, the potato fries tore through the floating turret with a spatial slash and strode toward him.

Hell was less than ten steps behind him, and two strong hands held him down on either side.

The floating turrets spewed out deadly necromantic energy like madmen, but they were powerless to stop the two killing gods from breaking into hell and taking the people away.

Gorcalon is going crazy.

Even if he didn't completely enter the Pillar of Destruction, the ethereal aura of death should have corroded his flesh and blood, diminished his magic, and rendered him unable to use his magic, leaving him to die.

How can they act as if nothing happened?

"Die!"

Facing the backs of the three, Gorkaron disregarded the risk of the ritual magic failing and spat out dozens of pale, ghostly entities.

"Wraiths, kill them!"

A towering figure, as imposing as a mountain, blocked the path of the vengeful spirit.

"Roar!!"

The spirit shattered and vanished into nothingness.

This furry giant bear finally made Gorcalon's expression change.

"The power to suppress demons..."

(End of this chapter)