Free Web NovelCasaric gently hooked his finger in the air.
The bookshelf on the wall trembled, and an ancient tome with a thick spine pulled itself free from the densely packed books, floating through half the hall as if carried by an invisible hand, landing before him.
The pages rustled and flipped on their own, the yellowed paper emitting the musty smell of age and the aura of mana under the candlelight.
He read quickly.
Not like the old days, when he'd lean back lazily on his throne, savoring every passage, letting his fingertips pause on certain paragraphs for deep deliberation.
His eyes swept from left to right, the dark purple glow in his pupils racing across the lines of text. Page flip. Page flip. Page flip again. In just over ten seconds, he had finished the entire book.
Nothing.
Casaric closed the book, flicked his finger, and the tome flew back to the shelf as another dropped down.
The second book.
The third.
The fourth.
The Burning Capital’s palace library was a treasure trove he had gathered over centuries from various planes. It contained the history of the Abyss, the strange tales of the Astral Realm, the rise and fall of kingdoms in the Material Plane, and the ancient secrets even the gods were reluctant to mention.
He had once believed he already knew everything there was to know, and that the rest was just executing his plan step by step.
But he had scoured every tome mentioning Astral creatures, and found no record of any green slime or Slime King.
There were only a few brief descriptions of Astral oozes.
One passage read: “Astral oozes, their bodies shining like starry skies; touch them, and you are devoured. They are suspected to be drifters from the edge of Chaos Sea.”
Below it was a rough illustration, depicting a translucent blob with starlight flickering across its body, devouring a wooden airship.
Another passage recorded a stranger type of ooze found in battlefield ruins—“Its body bristled with broken swords and shattered spears as it wandered among the corpses. It did not attack the living, only consumed metallic objects.”
A note in red ink was scribbled beside it: Suspected remnant body of a lost ancient god. Do not approach.
Every single one of these Astral creatures was documented. They were either drifters from other worlds, lingering afterimages of ancient deities, or nameless creations of Chaos.
Even he, now crowned with the Soul Crown, standing in the realm of Legendary, looking down upon all beings, would need to tread carefully if he encountered any of these marked Astral creatures.
But none of them matched the characteristics of that slime in the swamp.
Green gel. A flying sword. Strange spells that turned fear into power. And that silver sword light that had carved dozens of meters off the Western District.
None of it.
Casaric closed the last book. His fingers lingered on the spine for a moment before flicking it back onto the shelf. He turned and began walking slowly through the hall, surrounded only by bookshelves.
It was empty here.
No demon guards. No attendants. No imps tearing each other apart in the corridors.
He didn't need guards, because he himself was the safest thing in this palace. He didn't need attendants, because he didn't trust any living creature—especially not during those days when the throne had vanished without a trace.
The entire hall held only bookshelves, candle flames, and the sound of his own footsteps.
In the old days, he had enjoyed this solitude. But now, all that remained in his heart was a lingering anxiety that he could not shake.
Tap. Tap. Tap...
His hard-soled boots struck the obsidian floor. The sound echoed and re-echoed under the empty dome, layering into a cascade of footfalls, as if several people were walking alongside him from different distances.
He was thinking.
Thinking about that sword light.
That sword light contained no trace of the Abyss, no fluctuation of mana, no form of power he could understand.
It was as clean as a newborn soul, as sharp as time itself, completely unlike anything a Gold-Rank slime should possess.
Could it be that he had encountered the first slime in history to approach Epic rank?
No.
Not approaching Epic.
Gold-Rank was Gold-Rank. He was certain of that.
But the spells that slime had used completely exceeded his understanding of magic. They didn't rely on mana levels, didn't follow spell models, and didn't even seem like something that should exist in this plane.
Casaric stopped walking.
He stood before his throne, turned, and sat down. Resting his cheek on his hand, he pressed his knuckles against his temple, sinking into a long silence.
Time passed. The candle flames at the far end of the bookshelf flickered.
Casaric did not look up.
“Morrigan.”
“I thought you might have betrayed me.”
A long, narrow shadow peeled away from the wall beneath the flickering candlelight, as if something had yanked it free. It slid across the floor, weaving through the shadows cast by the bookshelves, and rose upright in the candlelight before the throne.
Morrigan's shadow swayed slightly, as if bowing.
“Oh, my Emperor.”
“Xirik’s eternal loyalty to the great Burning Emperor is an indisputable fact.”
He bent even lower.
“It’s just that I truly did not expect that Slime King to possess such power.”
Casaric opened his eyes, his gaze passing through the gaps between his fingers, landing on the shadow.
“It seems you know something.”
Morrigan’s form flickered, reappearing beneath the candlelight near the bookshelf.
“I don’t know much.”
“Only that a thousand years ago, an alchemist known as the Sword Traveler once appeared in the Shadow Mountains. He was a very strange human—neither mage nor swordsman, and the aura he carried could not be imitated even by shadows.”
“But unfortunately, his very existence was a taboo, watched over by the gods. The gods forbade any mortal from uttering his name, and forbade any record from chronicling his deeds. So, my great Emperor, I cannot speak more freely.”
The shadow turned toward Casaric.
“Now it seems this slime may be inextricably linked to him. My guess is that it is most likely an alchemical creation he left behind, abandoned in the swamps of the Material Plane.”
Morrigan let out a chuckle.
“My Emperor, do not doubt it. That man truly possessed such terrifying power. If this is his creation, then that sword light makes perfect sense.”
Casaric tapped his finger on the armrest of his throne. He did not answer immediately.
If what Morrigan said was true, then that slime was no ordinary slime.
Behind it might stand an ancient figure whom even the gods had to place under taboo.
That explained the flying sword. That explained the sword light. That explained how a Gold-Rank creature could wound a Legendary.
But it also made him more cautious.
Morrigan took Casaric’s silence as permission to continue.
“As I said from the beginning, Xirik is eternally loyal to the great Burning Emperor. So how could I not share your worries, my Emperor?”
He laughed, his hoarse voice echoing through the empty hall.
“Rest assured, I have confirmed it. The Crown of Ignis—the Sun Church’s most sacred relic—was already shattered when the Royal Capital fell. And its fragments were devoured by that ignorant slime, swallowed into its belly.”
“There is only one Soul Crown. And the other sacred relic capable of bearing the Trial of Kingship has already become that Slime King’s dinner. There is no possibility of him becoming a king.”
“So, once you have completely extinguished the sunfire on that crown, in less than ten days, when you master Legendary power in your perfect form, that will be the time for us to descend upon the Slime Kingdom once again.”
“And I, Morrigan, am willing to offer my strength for you, my Emperor.”
As he finished speaking, the shadows of the entire hall stirred.
Every single candle flame sank at the same instant, as if pressed down by an invisible hand. The shadows cast by the bookshelves peeled away from the walls. The darkness lurking in the corners of the dome was pulled down as well.
All the shadows converged, surging together with Morrigan’s form, coiling, intertwining, and condensing in the air like a black river.
Finally, they formed a scepter.
The scepter floated before Casaric. It was pitch black, so dark it did not reflect light, as if forged directly from solidified night.
The head of the scepter was a simple arc, adorned with no gemstones or runes. But the longer one looked at it, the more it seemed as if something was moving inside.
Morrigan’s voice came from within the scepter.
“My Emperor, take hold of it. Your power is already sufficient. Grasp the shadow power as well, and you will transcend those inferior beings who only know brute force and flesh.”
Casaric gazed at the scepter. The candle flame danced in his pupils.
Then he reached out and gripped it.
The moment the scepter touched his hand, every candle flame went out simultaneously. The entire hall plunged into absolute darkness. Only the faint golden remnant light from the Soul Crown above Casaric’s head still glowed weakly.
Darkness surged from the scepter into his arm, into his chest, into every inch of his skin.
A moment later, the candle flames relit.
Casaric remained seated on his throne, the scepter gripped in his right hand, its base pressing against the floor.
“Morrigan.”
“When I have destroyed the Slime Kingdom, I will help you fulfill your wish.”
Morrigan laughed, his voice seeping out from the scepter.
“I await that day, my Emperor.”
......
Winterhold, the Levitating Castle.
The silver-leaf roses in the garden had bloomed.
This variety of rose had been brought by Olivia from the Dragon Territories. She had planted them in the levitating castle’s garden decades ago, and they had become a beloved favorite among Winterhold’s residents.
Its petals were a metallic silver-gray, with a faint blue shimmer at the edges, as if moonlight had been forged into thin sheets.
Olivia bent down, using a small pair of silver scissors to snip the most fully bloomed silver-leaf rose from its branch.
She straightened up, her left hand holding up her silver dress, her right hand pinching the stem. She brought the rose close to her nose and inhaled its fragrance.
“The flowering season is early this year.”
She murmured to herself, then turned and walked toward the garden’s central gazebo.
The gazebo’s pillars were covered in climbing vines. A light blue tablecloth was spread across the stone table, already set with a steaming pot of black tea and two delicate porcelain cups.
Olivia inserted the freshly cut rose into the crystal vase at the center of the table. The vase already held several other silver-leaf roses. She stepped back half a step, tilted her head to examine them, then reached out and turned one of them halfway, adjusting the angle of its petals to align with the others.
Then she hummed a satisfied tune.
Silver Sparrow approached from the other side of the gazebo. A tray floated beside her, carrying a freshly baked cake and a steaming cup of coffee.
Upon closer inspection, the cake was covered in a thick layer of cream, topped with a bright red cherry. It looked quite tempting.
“Set it down here,” Olivia nodded to her.
After the tray placed the cake and coffee on the stone table, Silver Sparrow took a step back and gave a slight bow.
“Master, please enjoy.”
Chen Yu had somehow already appeared on the stone table.
His tiny eyes stared at the cake for a second. Then he extended a small gel hand, scooped up a piece, and stuffed it into his mouth.
Olivia sat down across the stone table, picked up the freshly poured black tea, and took a small sip. She watched Chen Yu, whose gel still had cream smeared on it, and the corner of her mouth curved up slightly.
“Let me guess.”
“Why has our Emperor come here today? To ask about the levitating castle’s charging progress?”
Chen Yu scooped up another piece of cake, swallowing the cream and cherry together before shaking his gel.
“Things are not as optimistic as I’d hoped. The charging is still insufficient. It’s probably only enough to activate the grand formation once.”
Olivia set down her teacup and fiddled with the silver-leaf roses in the vase once more.
“It seems things are indeed restless outside.”
She straightened the vase, finally shifting her attention away from the flower arrangement and toward Chen Yu.
“I truly did not expect a demon to pass the Trial of Kingship and become a Legendary. That sight has not appeared in the Material Plane for a very long time. It seems this continent has changed quite a bit.”
She rested her chin on her hand, her gaze fixed on Chen Yu.
“But I did not expect our Emperor to be so formidable either. Although Casaric has only just put on the crown and is not yet a complete Legendary, there are very few on this continent who could chase him off his throne. Especially that sword...”
Chen Yu lifted his tiny eyes, somewhat surprised.
“You recognized that as a sword?”
To be honest, that day’s Body Into Sword technique, although called a sword, had a display more akin to cannon bombardment.
A pillar of silver light had descended from the heavens, leveling the entire Western District. It had roared and slammed down for several minutes. In the face of destruction on that scale, few would think to associate it with a “sword.”
“I have seen a similar sword before. Though not as spectacular as this one.”
Chen Yu’s tiny eyes blinked, waiting for her to continue.
But Olivia seemed reluctant to dwell on that topic. She appeared more interested in Chen Yu’s subsequent plans.
“So, how do you plan to deal with a Legendary demon?”
“Trick him into coming here?”
Chen Yu’s gel stiffened slightly.
Just mentioning Casaric brought a sense of urgency to his heart.
He knew that Casaric had only been scared off for now. Once that Demon Emperor had completely extinguished the sunfire on the Soul Crown and truly grasped the power of Legendary, he would return.
“I only have one sword. I can’t beat him.”
“I can only lure him to Winterhold and use the castle’s grand formation to kill him.”
Olivia crossed her legs. She picked up her black tea again, took a sip, and let out a soft laugh.
“Maybe it won’t be that troublesome.”
“It seems our Emperor, during his time away, does not know what gift his subjects have prepared for him.”
Several question marks floated up from Chen Yu’s gel.
A gift?
He had control over the Gel Network. In theory, he knew about most things happening in the kingdom.
The Slime Scholars’ research progress. The dwarf artisans’ forging plans. The Merchant Alliance’s resource movements. The Restoration Army’s training status—all of this information was summarized and transmitted to his Divine Sense through the Gel Network.
What could there be that he didn’t know?
Olivia stood up, stretching her back lazily.
“Master Anvil should have nearly finished forging that item by now. Your Majesty, why not come with me to take a look?”
