Chapter 90: Encounter

Victoria looked at Rollin with a touch of doubt. The strength of those three mighty bears was formidable—even as a fifth-level mage, she could only barely hold them off for a while before ultimately having to flee. Yet, seeing Rollin’s confident demeanor, he seemed entirely certain he could defeat them outright.

“Rollin, those beasts are really powerful. Don’t make empty boasts,” Victoria couldn’t help but remind him.

“Don’t worry, just watch. With a wave of my hand, I’ll have them scattering in terror!” Rollin declared with conviction.

Although she hadn’t known him long, Victoria sensed that Rollin wasn’t the kind of person who talked big for the sake of appearances. Yet, hearing these words, she began to reconsider her impression of him. Watching him stride boldly toward the three mighty bears, she rolled her eyes from behind, thinking, “They say men love to show off in front of women. I thought Rollin was different, but…”

She quickly followed, prepared to intervene with her ice magic should Rollin be defeated and need rescuing. But the sheer power of those three bears made even her apprehensive; if she had to divide her attention to save Rollin, the day would likely end badly.

Yet, when Rollin was scarcely five or six meters from the bears and Victoria was ready to cast her magic, he suddenly pointed toward them. A resonant hum filled the air as the sky abruptly darkened. To Victoria’s astonishment, a swarm of giant blue-winged bees sped toward the three bears.

What happened next was utterly bewildering: the three fierce black bears, upon seeing the swarm, immediately stopped, turned, covered their heads, and bolted. The smallest, a bit slower, was stung several times, yelping as it hastily picked up speed—within moments, all had vanished.

“Rollin, what did you just do…” Victoria, feeling slightly dizzy, could hardly believe her eyes. How could Rollin command a swarm of giant bees? What was even more puzzling was that, though the bees were clearly weaker than the fifth-level bears, the bears hadn’t even dared to fight—they’d fled outright.

Rollin then briefly recounted his earlier encounter in the cave, explaining that as cubs, those two black bears had been attacked by the blue-winged bees and, traumatized ever since, now fled at their approach. Victoria couldn’t help but smile at the revelation; she hadn’t expected such amusing stories in the world of magical beasts.

At the same time, she found herself reassessing Rollin’s abilities as a necromancer. Previously, she’d thought necromancers merely had the enviable advantage of their own undead space, but now, seeing how many undead creatures he could command and control, she realized his offensive power was truly terrifying.

Her earlier belief—that Rollin had only made it this far by relying on others—was thoroughly overturned. Clearly, he had reached this place on his own strength. Even after being separated from his party, he’d managed to cross the mountains safely alone.

Thousands of miles away, at the very heart of the Maya Mountains, lay a primitive little village. Any adventurer entering the range would be utterly astounded to find it, for the Maya Mountains were ruled by countless, colossal magical beasts. Yet, here in the very center, stood a small human settlement.

The villagers moved about in leisure, their faces bright with rustic, serene smiles. Their garments were all sewn from beast hides, exuding a raw, primal air, and most of the houses were constructed from dried reeds, shaped like cylinders with somewhat crooked conical tops.

At the center of the village, in front of a large house, stood a stone table at which two people sat. One was a burly man with a swarthy face, the other a gaunt old man. Unlike the villagers, their attire matched that of the human world on the Aragon Continent.

“Sir, didn’t Mishus die ten thousand years ago? How can you say…” The burly man stared at the old man in shock.

The old man’s withered hands, knotted like chicken claws, tapped rhythmically on the stone table. After a while, he stopped. “Mishus only truly departed this world yesterday. He even passed his legacy to a youngster. That lad is rather interesting.”

The burly man’s eyes widened. “His legacy? That mysterious space energy cultivation method? Is there another space energy wielder in Aragon?”

“Indeed. Not just space energy—the lad also inherited Mishus’s alchemy, and even a vial of the god-tier potion for which Mishus gave his life. Wait—no, something’s odd about that donkey beside the boy…” As he spoke, a flash of astonishment appeared on the old man’s timeworn, wrinkled face.

Unbeknownst to Rollin and Little Black, thousands of miles away, someone was ‘observing’ them. To be watched from such a distance was unimaginable to them.

By now, Rollin had recalled the blue-winged bees into his undead space, and he and Victoria set out on the journey back.

The dark-haired youth and the golden-haired beauty in purple strode side by side through a sea of red. Both had gained much from their journey through the Maya Mountains and returned in high spirits.

Rollin’s heart surged with excitement. This trip to the Sanctuary of Mishus had not only granted him the formula for healing his brother’s crippled legs, but he had also claimed nearly all of Mishus’s treasures. His greatest gains were threefold: alchemical mastery, the Dominator’s Blood potion, and the cultivation method for space energy—truly a bountiful harvest.

Victoria, though less fortunate in not inheriting an ancient legacy, had been forged by many battles with magical beasts over the past six months. This rapid growth was most evident in her final fight with the six-level peak beast, the white-fox demon, where she nearly died. Afterwards, she felt the bottleneck at the fifth-level mage’s threshold begin to loosen—a cause for great joy.

On their journey, most of the magical beasts they encountered were of the fourth level or below—no real threat to a fifth-level mage and a necromancer. In fact, their presence only swelled the bags of magic beast crystals they carried.

They had agreed that whoever struck the killing blow would keep the crystal. Although Rollin was only a third-level mage, with his undead space’s wind wolf pack, the blue-winged bee swarm, the cunning skeleton Brian, his own magic, and even Little Black, a fourth-level beast, he was nearly as effective as Victoria in slaying beasts.

Their combined strength meant few magical beasts could approach before being swiftly dispatched. Rollin rarely had a chance to showcase his third-level warrior skills—and with so many undead at his command, there was little need to join the fight himself.

Each day, Rollin cooked a variety of delicious meals, delighting Victoria’s palate. What pleased her even more was the honey produced by the blue-winged bees.

At first, she was hesitant when Rollin offered her some, but upon learning it could beautify and rejuvenate, her eyes lit up. What woman doesn’t wish for greater beauty and lasting youth? Even someone as reserved as Victoria was powerless to resist, and after trying it for a while and seeing its remarkable effects, she was overjoyed.

In the blink of an eye, over half a month passed. Thanks to their swift travel, they were now only about ten miles from the mountain pass—by day’s end, they would leave the Maya Mountains behind.

As they walked, two black dots appeared ahead. With their rapid pace, the dots soon became two figures—warriors heading for the pass as well. The pair paid little mind; near the pass, the presence of other mages and warriors was common. They simply strode past the two.

But just as they overtook them, one of the warriors suddenly cried, “Rollin! You made it out too? That’s wonderful!”