1000 Years Later, Even My Weakest Follower Has Become A Demon King

Chapter 59: Authority and Magic

Simon recognized the magic chanter in front of him who had suddenly barged into the ritual. Or at least, he had seen him before.

He had seen it in the image sent back by Resound.

Although he had changed into pitch-black bone armor and held a magical medium that contained a powerful Frost aura, he recognized at a glance that the person in front of him was the mage who had infiltrated the Silverstream Mine and killed the Webweaver.

According to Vincent, this person was a Divine Realm magic chanter.

The Divine Realm was also known as a Demigod in the Bronze Age. Anyone who stepped into this realm had completed the sublimation of the soul and was an existence who could wield legendary power in Currere.

But even so, Simon didn’t panic at all when facing an opponent at such a realm.

This was because even though the two of them were at the same realm, the path they took to reach this realm was fundamentally different.

Although he didn’t know how the other party bypassed the Astral Laws to establish a connection with the Astral World, as long as he was a magic chanter, all his strength came from the knowledge he had accumulated, the spell models he had studied, and his understanding of the Currere laws.

The scale of strength and the depth of rules were concepts Vincent loved mentioning.

However, Simon, who had grasped the authority of Death Vera through the King and Rebel Conversion ritual, was strength and the rules himself.

He didn’t need to guide magic power from the Astral World, nor did he need to build a spell model in the ether domain. Power related to Death could be realized through a single motion, look, or thought.

This was the power of authority, and it was also the earliest form of extraordinary power in Currere.

In the distant Bronze Age, all superhumans were holders of authority. Back then, the rulers of the Vic Continent were Divine Realm powerhouses who had reached this realm through their respective mythical rituals.

That era was also known as the Demigod Age.

It wasn’t until the Tacma Church, the magic pioneer, analyzed the primitive witchcraft rituals and built a classical magic system that the first batch of magic chanters appeared.

A thousand years ago, under the leadership of William Kane, the Mage Guild simplified the complicated spell models and categorized magic into over ten major categories. Only then did magic become universal across the continent.

Of course, the introduction of the Astral Laws further simplified the process of circulating magic power from the Astral World to Currere.

However, there was no doubt that when the controller of a power faced this power itself, there was no need to discuss who was stronger.

Simon raised his hand slightly, and a thick death miasma emitted from his sleeve. It transformed into a venomous snake and clung to every sarcophagus in the tomb. Then, it transformed into miasma again and crawled through the cracks in the sarcophagus.

“Hand over the three sacrifices to the goddess. I can give you a dignified death, but if you…” Simon said to William in an illusory voice.

William shook his head silently and revealed a delicate expression.

“As long as you… I’ll…”

So these guys only know this sentence, right? How many times has it been?

On Withering Cold, a ball of frost quickly gathered into a crystalline spear. Then, it silently flew out and stabbed at the garrulous Simon.

The huge snake phantom behind Simon instantly moved. Its thick tail suddenly snapped at the middle of the ice spear.

Its movements were many times faster than the ice spear, and its aura was even more terrifying.

However, just as its tail was about to touch the ice spear and snap it in half, it suddenly stopped.

It wasn’t blocked by any force, nor was it repelled by anything.

It stopped literally.

This was because time near the Frost Spear froze.

Divine Realm Frost spell, Announcement

There was no way to dodge or avoid it. After throwing it, one could only take the Frost Spear head-on.

Just like how lightning spells essentially controlled spatial rifts, frost spells essentially controlled the condensation of invisible objects.

The epitome of frost spells was to solidify magic power into a stable substance because everything in Currere was a product of the solidification of magic power when the Holy Spirits created the world.

As for an even higher level, it froze the first result of creation—time.

Only by reaching the Divine Realm could one do this.

Of course, in-game, the effects of this spell were only a Frost Spear that couldn’t be dodged and dealt damage. Moreover, because the damage was too low, in the later stages of the game when powerful beings fought, it was useless. It didn’t deserve its Divine Realm label. It was purely just to make up the numbers.

The Frost Spear stabbed into Simon’s heart unobstructed and sent him flying five to six meters back, pinning him to a marble pillar that was as thick as a person’s arm span.

After the attack took effect, the Frost Spear automatically reduced to magic power and dissipated. Simon leaned against the pillar and got up with difficulty. His right hand covered his chest which had a huge hole pierced through it and coughed twice.

Not a drop of blood flowed out.

If he were only a mortal, he would have been dead.

However, at this moment, he—who had already become Death Vera—didn’t care about this minor damage at all because this body was only a shell.

Even with his heart shattered and his brain damaged—even if his body was minced, it wouldn’t cause any damage to his essence.

This was also an important difference between powerhouses who had obtained authority via mirroring rituals and magic chanters of the same level.

No matter how strong a magic chanter was, their bodies would always be their weakness.

Moreover…

“I’ll take that strike as your answer. What a pity… Don’t you know where you are now?”

As Simon finished his sentence, all the sarcophaguses that had been penetrated by the death miasma began to tremble slightly.

William stood on the spot and silently buffed himself while observing the other party’s subsequent actions.

The most important thing in PVE was to attack after identifying the other party’s move.

Simon stood up again and spread his arms. The snake shadow gradually condensed and took form behind him. He said with a solemn expression, “This is the Holy Sepulchre of the ancient Blackwater Kingdom. It’s a transfer station where our ancestors ended the rule of the mortal world and headed to the Underworld to continue their unfinished wishes. It’s the place where countless heroes and nobles sleep… It’s a sanctuary engraved with countless historical memories; yet, you dare challenge the authority of Death here?”

The sarcophaguses were lifted one by one, and a rich necromancy aura emitted from them like thick smoke. Skeletons lifted the stone slabs over them and got up. They were either wearing gorgeous and tattered royal robes or ancient but sturdy armor. They held weapons stained by time.

Every awakened undead was either a former noble and general of the Blackwater Swamp or a hero who had once left an illustrious name in history. The eyes of every corpse burned with intense Soul Fire that seemed to materialize.

“Stand up, my servants—Blackwater’s First King, Blacklight General, Wanderer, Second Empress, King of Silverstream, Rat Slayer… and my ancestor, the Rotten Moon Lich King! Make Currere’s memories of the person in front of me disappear!” Simon ordered in a ghostly voice.

“Wait, what did you just say?”

William, who originally didn’t plan on talking nonsense with the other party, suddenly asked, “Your servants? And that includes your ancestor?”

William had an odd expression on his face.

Simon didn’t reply. Instead, he waved his sleeve, and the dozen or so corpses lunged over at the same time.

“How filial.”