Chapter 110: Siblings

With the precise “navigation” of the hummingbird, Teresa swiftly piloted her small boat to a vantage point near the “Phantom Demon Battlefield.” To avoid disturbing the two phantom demons and provoking them into uniting against her, Teresa deliberately chose a high spot far from the creatures, allowing herself to “peacefully” observe the battle.

Judging by the scene, the two phantom demons had been fighting for quite some time. The sandy ground within a hundred meters around them was noticeably lower than the surrounding area, scarred and worn. Amidst the swirling dust, the two phantom demons engaged in pure physical combat, relying solely on their bodies. One resembled a bear in body shape but bore bird-like talons, a crocodile’s tail, and a head that was a grotesque blend of canine and ursine features. The other bore the bulk of a gorilla, with massive bear-like paws, a lizard-like head, and a snake’s tail trailing behind. Beyond these striking traits, both bore smaller, indistinct features from various creatures—this “hybrid” form was characteristic of phantom demons in the “Phantom Realm.”

Faced with such bizarre and repulsive forms, Teresa felt an intense discomfort, so much so that she was tempted to launch a missile and eradicate them outright—the forms of these phantom demons were a blatant desecration of human aesthetics!

Suppressing her unease, Teresa carefully observed the fierce battle between the two.

It was a raw, no-frills melee—no flashy moves, no tricks—just claw against bite, brute strength pitted against brute strength, without retreat, dodge, or deceit.

Each clash sent a violent friction through the air, and after just a few rounds, sparks flew, occasionally accompanied by erratic bursts of electricity. This was not only due to the instability of the Phantom Realm but also a testament to the terrifying force behind their combat.

Watching this, Teresa felt a slight shiver on her scalp and whispered, “Lingling, no wonder you said we can only handle lone phantom demons for now… If phantom demons possess such combat power, night demons must be even more terrifying.”

The spirit Lingling noticed her fear. Uncharacteristically, she did not mock Teresa but soothed her instead: “Teresa, don’t lose hope. Night demons are indeed beyond your current capability, but phantom demons aren’t as formidable as you imagine. First of all, these creatures have no brains; they act purely on instinct. Though their strength and abilities are chaotic, if arranged properly, they can be outwitted safely—we are alchemists! Teresa, you must always remember who you are. We are not warriors; we don’t engage in direct confrontation. We can set barriers, lay traps, command puppets, use magical scrolls… there are plenty of methods!”

Teresa stuck out her tongue and said, “I know, but I never expected phantom demons to be this strong. It startled me a bit. Back then… uh, previously in the Northwestern Icefields, I saw a phantom demon once. They could only attack by attaching to humans and were subdued after a few moves. They were nowhere near as powerful as these.”

Hearing this, Lingling became intrigued and eagerly asked for more details. Then she sighed, “That phantom demon was probably worn down by the Anti-Magic Seal over many years, losing much energy. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have been so easy to defeat. But you all were really careless. According to what you said, those two ‘masters’ seemed to be at least high-level armor breakers. With them around, not only phantom demons but even night demons could be easily eliminated. It’s contemptible that there were still casualties with such strong fighters on the team.”

Teresa was used to Lingling’s sharp remarks and merely raised an eyebrow and shrugged without retorting—this was fundamentally a clash of perspectives. Lingling, like Mu Fei back then, viewed alchemists as combat-support talents, while the Empire generally saw alchemists as purely support staff who needed special combat units for protection.

During this brief exchange, the battle between the phantom demons was nearing its end. Their forms had shrunk to nearly half their original size since Teresa and her companions arrived—the phantom demons were pure spiritual entities; as their spiritual energy waned, so did their physical forms diminish.

Seeing this, Teresa grew anxious. If they finished fighting and vanished, what chance would she have to gain any advantage?

With a command, the restless little eagle and wolf darted out, each taking one phantom demon and engaging them in a skirmish. Teresa was not idle either; she pulled out all her alchemical supplies she had practiced over the past ten days and generously threw them into the fray.

***

In the hazy gray space, a brilliant aurora suddenly flared. Fierce fire elementals exploded wildly in the air, one blast following another in rapid succession, forming a chain of relentless detonations. The explosions stirred violent storms and blanketed the land in swirling gray dust. Creatures within several hundred meters had already fled with every ounce of strength to escape. Those caught in the blasts could only be mourned—surviving such a massive explosion was no easy feat.

After a dazzling flash, about ten minutes passed before the violent elements in the air began to calm. The wind still blew, and a faint gray smoke shrouded the earth. Amid the murky haze, a dark silhouette gradually emerged. Only upon closer approach could one discern a person—a young man, disheveled but with an expression of remarkable calm.

Pedia stepped out from the lingering gray smoke, looked up at the sky—a perpetual deep gray stretched overhead, layered beneath with cloud-like formations that shifted and rolled. The varying shades of gray reflected in his gray eyes, deepening their somber hue.

As Pedia gazed silently skyward, a huge silver-gray wolf approached silently from behind. The wolf’s immense form nearly reached Pedia’s waist; its powerful muscles rippled with each step, embodying strength and grace.

When the silver giant reached Pedia’s side, he lowered his head and gently patted the wolf’s head. “Let’s go. The storm is coming.”

About twenty minutes after they left, a wild, dark-gray tornado roared through the area, devastating everything in its path—ripping and hurling debris high into the air.

By then, Pedia and the giant wolf had reached a small crescent-shaped sandy hollow embraced by three dead trees. At the base near the tree roots lay a small pool of milky water, no larger than a square meter, exuding a faint scent of fresh grass—these waters, typically found near dead trees, were the source of life in this world, indispensable to nearly all creatures.

The giant wolf lay by the pool, regarding it as its territory. Any creature attempting to approach would face its wrath—except Pedia.

Pedia first filled his water pouch to the brim, washed his hands and face, then gathered some dry twigs from the dead trees to kindle a campfire. Though these trees appeared brittle and ready to crumble to dust in the wind, they burned fiercely; just three or four branches could provide fire for at least six hours.

Chunks of meat were set over the flames. Golden tongues of fire licked their surfaces, burning the fat beneath with a sizzling sound. The rich aroma of roasting meat filled the air, lingering long after. The bright firelight illuminated Pedia’s unusually focused face, warming the usual coolness of his handsome features.

When the meat was about seventy to eighty percent cooked, Pedia sprinkled a small amount of salt and spices evenly over the pieces—not because he preferred bland flavors, but because he had no idea how long he would remain here, so conservation was necessary.

By Pedia’s reckoning, he had now been in this world for eleven days. Though this world lacked a day-night cycle, as a mage, his precise control of time was a fundamental skill—every competent mage possessed an invisible internal clock, accurate to a tenth of a second or better.

Accompanied by the fresh-tasting pool water, Pedia quickly finished the meat, took a stroll to aid digestion, then returned to the fire and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. He settled into a cross-legged meditation—a posture most suitable for mages resting in the wild, allowing restoration of magical energy while maintaining sufficient vigilance. The only drawback was that prolonged meditation in place of sleep could strain the mind; without strong willpower, it might cause mental disturbances ranging from mild psychological issues to full madness.

However, Pedia had no other choice—not only was the safety of this strange world questionable, but meditation here was far more effective than at any previous time.

Upon entering his mental sea, Pedia immediately felt an exhilarating surge of magical elements surrounding him. With a thought, his internal mana cycle activated automatically. Magic surged like a wild stallion racing through his body; every passage stirred the external magical elements, which poured in like a rushing stream seeking an outlet. The intensity and volume were so great that Pedia felt his body swell painfully.

The more it hurt, the more he gritted his teeth and endured. After completing a full cycle and returning to balance, he could visibly perceive a slight increase in his mana. For this tangible growth in power, enduring such pain was worth it. Moreover, alongside the magical elements, another mysterious force entered his body. If the magical elements were like a rushing river, this force was like a warm spring flowing slowly, soothing his injured body and filling him with a quiet sense of relaxation and comfort.

(To be continued)