Age of Adepts

Span had a very strange dream!

In that dream, he turned into an odd beetle, only the size of a nail. He was quickly climbing through a grassy plain high above the clouds.

He wrapped around many obstructing boulders (dirt particles), climbed over many towering trees (fire pokers), and continued on his way toward the giant mountain before him. Finally, after much difficulty and having traversed thousands of mountains and rivers as well as endured all sorts of trials and tribulations, he arrived at a pitch-black cave. A viscous liquid was slowly flowing out from the cave.

He dove into the cave without any hesitation and vanished in an instant.

Span shivered in fright and got up from the field.

He rubbed his aching head, somewhat unsure of how he had suddenly fallen asleep at this. Moreover, the insect in his dream had been so real. Span couldn’t help but wipe away the saliva on his face and smack his tongue.

It was almost as if there really was that sickening stench in his mouth!

Could he have been manipulated by some mysterious magical creature in the Misty Valley? Why else would he have had such a ridiculous ’daydream’? Span shook his head and focused his senses to look for any oddities in his body. However, he was surprised by the rumbling sounds of wheels from the forest road.

The carriage carrying the death row criminals was here!

These damned, unpunctual mortals; it was time to give them a lesson.

Span strode toward the carriage with an unsuppressible rage inside him.

Just as Span and the black carriage made contact, a black-robed individual on a cliff in the distance turned and looked in their direction. The man’s gaze landed upon the intermediate apprentice through the thick mist and the many branches and leaves.

The hundreds of ghostly-green compound eyes shone with an incomprehensible and strange light beneath the shadow of the hood.

"Calm down, my little babies! When the fruits are at their sweetest, remember to bring back their souls, flesh, and Spirit– all of it. Kehkehkeh."

The voice was hoarse and deep. It was the strange voice of Bug Adept Billis.

There was one First Grade adept and thirty-seven apprentice adepts at this Kamala Clan resource site. Exterminating them with Billis’ current strength was as easy as the flip of a palm.

However, Billis would never so easily slaughter them, having run into such excellent puppet hosts. Should a monstrous adept like himself start a slaughter in the strictly regulated Zhentarim area, it would very likely cause high-grade adepts to intervene in the conflict.

It was only during moments of clan wars like these that both parties were allowed to use whatever methods they had up their sleeves without worrying about intervention.

This resource site was one of the targets that Billis had chosen.

Of course, simply sending out the swarm to devour all of them and take all of the resources was too simple. A slaughter like that was not of any interest to Billis now. The heartworms he had spread throughout Misty Valley was his highest aim in coming here.

He didn’t even let the First Grade adept go. Every single adept and apprentice adept in Misty Valley had been infested with the heartworms he had spread. With their mediocre abilities, they would never sense the existence of the heartworm without resorting to special magic rituals or techniques.

As long as these heartworms had a chance to grow to maturity, everything belonging to the opponents would become the stepping for Billis’ continued growth.

Growing and strengthening himself had become Billis’ sole concern ever since he advanced to Second Grade.

Meanwhile, this clan war was undoubtedly the best stage for him, where he could slaughter and harvest to his heart’s desire.

He needed their souls, their flesh, and most importantly, he needed the Spirit they had spent so much time cultivating.

After confirming that every lifeform in Misty Valley had been infested with the heartworms through sensing their souls, Billis left.

He was in no hurry. No hurry at all. No hurry to harvest these delicious fruits that stilled need to be watered and fertilized. The war was going to be a long one. He had plenty of time to wait until these cute little worms brought back with them everything that his enemies possessed.

............

Greem was very busy.

Apart from the clan matters, there was a large group of prisoners that he had to deal with in Fire Throne.

Apart from the Third Grade vampire they had caught during the last war, there was another powerful Third Grade dragonborn prisoner in the sealing room on the second level. Moreover, there were eleven more Second Grade dragonborn in the prison underground.

These dragonborn were all stubborn individuals, and making them bend the knee was nearly impossible.

The Crimson Clan also lacked sufficiently powerful necromancers or voodoo beast craftsmen, making it difficult to turn these dragonborn into powerful undead or voodoo beasts. Consequently, after a discussion with Gargamel, Meryl, and Alice, Greem decided to put them up for sale at Snorlax’s goblin merchant company.

A Second Grade dragonborn would not sell cheap, even as an experimental subject.

As such, all of the Second Grade dragonborn were priced at five thousand magical crystals, while the Third Grade dragonborn was priced at seventeen thousand magical crystals.

Apart from this, large amounts of high-grade dragon materials also appeared at the merchant company. Dragon crystals, dragon brains, dragon bones, dragon horns, dragon teeth, dragon tendons, dragon spinal fluids, dragon blood, dragon scales, and even rare materials meant for those with special interests– dragon penis!

All of these materials were on sale, ranging from First to Second Grade.

The terrifying thing was the fact that Third Grade dragon materials were actually mixed into this array of products. Some busybodies, after appraisal, decided that the harvesting of these Third Grade materials had been a little too violent and that the quality of the materials had gone down. Still, there was no stopping the passion and zeal of the adepts who came rushing over while waving their magical crystals in hand.

Third Grade dragon materials were still Third Grade dragon materials after all. Even if the quality was a bit lower than it should be, they couldn’t be replaced by low-grade dragon materials. Moreover, many large-scale magical arrays and Third Grade spells demanded items to be Third Grade at the lowest. That resulted in a perpetual shortage of high-grade magical creature materials.

Even large clans or adept forces would stockpile Third Grade materials to prepare for unexpected cases of emergency.

The Crimson Clan would never have sold these materials without the massive plane in their pocket that was Lance. After all, if the clan held onto these Third Grade materials, they could use them to set up even more powerful offensive arrays in their tower.

When that happened, they would just wait and watch to see which idiot dared to attack them!

However, now that they possessed Lance, they could have as many dragon materials as they wanted. That was why the Crimson Clan had the confidence to trade them for much needed magical crystals and other resources. Otherwise, no one would dare sell such strategic resources!

Every single clan needed a stable source of magical crystal income if they wanted a sustained growth and development, be it through the excavation of resource sites, the raiding of another planar world, or the monopolization of a trade. That said, all of these ventures were extremely risky and took plenty of time to accomplish. A slight mistake, and one could end up empty-handed.

Greem now had two lesser planes in his hands. He had the massive amount of cheap metal and countless technicians from the Goblin Plan. The cute, little dragons that were basically sculpted out of magical crystals he had scoured from Lance; the injection of this fresh and nutritious blood was what allowed the Crimson Clan to continue growing stronger.

It was only when the Crimson Clan had grown stronger that it could better support the development of Greem’s own powers.

In all seriousness, it was a mutually beneficial relationship!

At the very least, the current Crimson Clan was supported by the trifecta of Greem, Mary, and Alice. It was certain to develop at a much faster pace than an ordinary adept clan.

However, though the momentum of the clan’s development was nearly unstoppable, there was a relatively sizeable hidden concern. This very concern had brought tremendous psychological pressure down on Greem.

It was his personal strength!

There were already a dozen Second Grade adepts and creatures in the Crimson Clan now. He even had three Third Grade creatures he had somehow tricked to his side. Yet, as the Crimson clan leader, Greem was still Second Grade. That was far too low, no matter how you looked at it!

In fact, it was precisely Greem’s ’low’ grade that had resulted in the current instability.

There was the restlessness of the Third Grade dragons above and the pursuit of the Second Grade bug adept from below. Greem’s position was unstable if he, as the leader, did not possess the power to make others fear and respect him.

That was the situation that most adept clans faced!

The leader of every clan had to be the most powerful one, not the wisest or the smartest. Why was that the case? It was simple. The core that maintained the unity of the clan had never been the respect for rank or intelligence. It had always been a regard for brutal and naked power that could crush everything in its way!

If you had the power to crush everything, then you would have intelligent scholars and sages to aide you. You would have brilliant managers to deal with everything for you. However, if the leader of the organization were weaker than his underlings, then the organization would be in a perpetual state of restlessness and constant suspicion between allies.

When that happened, the internal conflict alone would cause the organization to break up and vanish from the annals of history!

Consequently, after several reminders from Alice, both direct and indirect, Greem treated his advancement to Third Grade as the most critical issue facing the clan.

"Chip, display my latest data."

[Beep. Body scan complete. New statistics are as below.

[Greem, Advanced Second Grade.

Profession: Elementium Adept (Fire Specialization).

Bodily Attributes: Strength 13+1 (20) | Physique 15 (21) | Agility 11 (9) | Spirit 28+1 (30).

Note: Attributes in brackets refer to post-transformation statistics.

Profession Skills: Body of Flames, Flame Fiend Transformation...]

Greem’s basic abilities had improved by leaps and bounds with the conclusion of his trip to the Fire Elementium Plane. Just thirty years after his advancement, he had reached the advanced level. He was only a stone’s throw away from the peak of Second Grade.

Moreover, his fire affinity was at its limit; it couldn’t be improved in the short term.

It was about time for him to consider Third Grade now!

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