Chapter 274: Anomaly
The post-battle merit evaluation was unsurprising. Jie Ming, for discovering and stabilizing the spatial gate node, restraining a god at a critical moment, and transmitting vital coordinates, was awarded first merit.
The three fourth-rank wizards, though envious of the generous rewards, remained silent, as each had secured a living fifth-tier “native god” for research, tacitly accepting the outcome.
The sheer volume of merit points was substantial, even impressing someone of Jie Ming’s wealth.
More importantly, Dionysius Spencer personally decreed that all knowledge gathered from the Sacred Continent would be shared with Jie Ming!
For a wizard pursuing knowledge, this was invaluable.
Jie Ming was deeply satisfied.
The next fifty years followed the wizard civilization’s standardized plane conquest protocol.
Resistance?
With the top-tier gods defeated, faith collapsed, and facing the wizards’ relentless, insidious tactics, the remaining Holy Servant forces melted like snow under sunlight.The wizards swept across the Sacred Continent with unstoppable momentum.
The only regret for some exploration-hungry wizards was that the World Gate, connecting the Sacred Continent to other worlds, showed signs of instability due to Dionysius Spencer’s forced opening and maintenance, temporarily preventing the pinpointing of the four alien worlds the Holy Servants had conquered.
This potential expansion route was, for now, blocked.
Fifty years later, Jie Ming completed a mission to suppress residual resistance and returned to the wizard sub-base established at the former capitals of the four empires.
Watching the endless stream of Holy Servant slaves, bound by runic shackles and shipped to research sites or other planes, his face showed no joy, only a trace of contemplation.
Truth be told, the Sacred Continent’s resources were rich, but… they hardly warranted such effort from a seventh-rank wizard.
Even including the native gods, it wasn’t worth the intervention, as these “gods” were self-proclaimed, lacking true divine power.
Over these fifty years, Jie Ming keenly sensed Dionysius Spencer’s near-indifference toward the Sacred Continent itself.
It was as if conquering this place was merely a necessary step, not the ultimate goal.
He recalled Dionysius Spencer’s cryptic words from fifty years ago, just before the gate opened: “…Your true ‘feast’ is about to begin.”
Could it be that neither the resource-scarce Void Plane nor the Sacred Continent were ever the true targets of this seventh-rank wizard?
Were they… not even appetizers in Dionysius Spencer’s eyes?
But this hypothesis raised a larger question: if these worlds weren’t the goal, what was the true purpose behind Dionysius Spencer’s painstaking efforts?
Since the gate’s stabilization, the commander had made no notable moves, which was itself unusual.
Jie Ming shook his head, suppressing this overly bold speculation.
He knew that, as the expedition’s commander, Dionysius Spencer’s actions were bound by the wizard civilization’s highest interests—an ironclad rule of their contract.
Under this premise, a seventh-rank wizard’s plans were far beyond the scrutiny or comprehension of a mere second-rank wizard like him.
This curiosity remained a fleeting personal musing.
“Perhaps this fate-aligned high-rank wizard is silently awaiting something through the threads of others’ destinies…” Jie Ming thought.
His gaze swept over the camp, where colleagues, thrilled by their bountiful gains, eagerly discussed the next exploration target, yet a sudden sense of detachment and… boredom welled within him.
He took no new missions, instead rising alone to aimlessly fly above the conquered land.
For the first time, he observed this world trampled by wizard boots not as a conqueror, but as a mere observer.
Yet, the sight before him was hardly scenic.
Fifty years of relentless plundering had left the plane in a sickly state of depletion.
With no restrictions from Dionysius Spencer, the wizards’ greed was laid bare.
If “scraping the earth three feet deep” was an exaggeration in the Void Plane, here it was literal.
Fertile soil was carted off en masse for bio-beast cultivation.
Mountains were dismantled entirely for minerals and energy crystals.
Rivers and lakes dried up, their water elements siphoned completely…
The entire world seemed gnawed down to a hollow skeleton.
As the fog thickened, Jie Ming realized his aimless flight had brought him near the massive spatial gate.
Since its prolonged opening, the milky-white fog from the Void Plane, laced with faint energy particles, had begun seeping into the Sacred Continent.
Now, much of the continent was shrouded in this hazy mist.
Pausing briefly, Jie Ming passed through the stable gate, returning to the Void Plane after a long absence.
Compared to the “bustle” of the Sacred Continent, the Void Plane now felt desolate.
Most wizards had shifted to the resource-rich new battlefield, leaving only scattered research outposts and maintenance puppets.
The pervasive fog remained, but the once-constant streams of light were gone.
Jie Ming drifted aimlessly in the weightless void, his thoughts adrift.
Then, a massive shadow slowly passed overhead, blotting out the sky.
It was a colossal beast, whale-like, over a hundred meters long, floating leisurely in the gravity-free environment.
Its massive maw gaped open, giving it a somewhat ferocious look.
Yet, seeing it, Jie Ming’s tense nerves relaxed.
He recognized this creature, nicknamed “Void Whales” by wizards.
Scholars noted their unique ecological niche—evolving to be “unpalatable” and “resilient.”
Thick-skinned and massive, their flesh was not only nutritionally void but contained substances repulsive to most beings, even the indiscriminate black giants.
They also possessed remarkable regeneration, recovering slowly unless over 40% of their body was consumed at once.
Filter feeders, they swam through the fog with open mouths, consuming microscopic plankton and energy particles…
Suddenly, he snapped awake, his pupils contracting sharply: “Something’s wrong!”