Time flows, stars shift, and in the blink of an eye, another half year passes, the polar night dissipates, and the polar day arrives.
The sun hangs high in the sky, and although it lacks warmth, the bright sunlight still brings some vitality to the far north ice field, making the silver-clad earth seem coated in a layer of gold foil.
Life in the far north ice field for Garon remains as stable as ever.
After acquiring the Spirit of the Earth, Garon tinkered with it for a while, but regrettably, aside from occasionally tormenting the Spirit of the Earth, he didn't achieve any breakthroughs.
His research on cross-temporal teleportation with Yuna continues.
With time, the time vortexes Garon can open expand orderly and become more stable. He tries throwing some objects into the vortex, and those that enter vanish into the river of time, disappearing without a trace.
"Almost two years now, and Noah's Continent has been peaceful. Has the Primordial Sun God given up on this place?"
Basking in the sunlight, Garon gazes into the distance from high above the desolate far north ice field.
Without dwelling on it, Garon quickly shifts his focus back to his current tasks.
His gaze deep, voice low, he utters complex and explosive sculpting spells.
The sound of the spells echoes across the sky, accompanied by dragon roars, like thunder rumbling in the clouds, inducing a sense of oppression, as if a great disaster looms.
Meanwhile, fire elemental energies within a few dozen miles are drawn crazily towards Garon's location.
The highly condensed fire elemental energy even forms flame tassels in the cold high altitudes of the far north ice field, hissing as cold and heat generate copious rising steam.
Garon extends his dragon claw.
Guided by mental power and spells, the swarming fire elemental energy converges and compresses at the tips of his dragon claws.
Soon, a bright small fireball appears at the tip of Garon's claw.
Garon exhales deeply, focusing intently on the small fireball, not daring to relax even slightly.
Upon closer inspection, the small fireball contains countless spell runes, its complexity far surpassing all spells Garon has mastered before. It is the product of an immense compression of fire elemental energy to its limit. If not controlled properly and it explodes on the spot, even with Garon's magical resistance, he would suffer significant damage.
The Grand Sun Fireball.
This is Garon's first attempt after successfully engraving the spell model.
A ninth-level spell is not like ordinary spells; due to its complexity and danger, even with a successfully engraved spell model, real casting experience is needed to avoid self-harm in battle.
Garon carefully manipulates the Grand Sun Fireball.
Turning his gaze, he locks his mental power on a snow mountain below.
The snow mountain, 500 meters tall, stands on the desolate and cold land among the countless towering snow mountains of the far north ice field, considered a dwarf.
Garon specifically chose this spot, where no living creatures are present, so as not to disturb his spellcasting.
The next moment, the small fireball at the tip of the dragon claw leaps away.
Whoosh! The small fireball moves incredibly fast, drawing a straight red line in the air. With Garon's accelerated casting, the distance of thousands of meters is covered in the blink of an eye.
In a breath's time, the small fireball lands on the mountain surface.
It doesn't explode on impact but, like an indestructible ray, melts the snow and pierces through the mountain, entering its interior.
"Art is an explosion."
At this moment, Garon silently utters to himself.
Under his control, the Grand Sun Fireball explodes.
Boom! A sound as if the sky is breaking and the earth is splitting suddenly rises, deafening.
Time seems to slow down under Garon's gaze. The sturdy, low mountain vibrates violently as if trying to jump off the ground. The snow is blasted away, and countless cracks spread out like a spiderweb, intertwining.
Within the cracks, bright tongues of flame flicker.
Boom! Countless rocks shatter under the powerful impact, breaking apart and burning, shooting flames in all directions like scattering flowers from heaven, creating a storm of fire and stone here.
At the mountain's center, a nearly 300-meter diameter flower of flame blooms, carrying destructive high temperatures and devastating power. Waves of shockwaves and heat spread in circles, like tidal waves surging in all directions.
The ground cracks open, as if experiencing an earthquake, creating terrifying fissures that extend relentlessly.
Garon's scales are illuminated red by the firelight, and the sky is also painted with fiery red.
Shoo, shoo, shoo. Some stones are even shot thousands of meters into the air, hitting Garon's scales and shattering.
"What a fellow, worthy of being a sculpting fireball."
Garon's eyes sparkle, watching the spectacle caused by the Grand Sun Fireball.
This fireball drained a quarter of Garon's magic.
For a regular human ninth-level archmage, their magic would only suffice for one casting of a ninth-level spell, then the remaining magic would need to be carefully managed. However, true dragons have a vast physique, with abundant magic flowing in their blood, storing much more magic than 99% of beings.
Garon, in terms of magical power, is not yet legendary.
But he stands much higher than a typical ninth-level archmage.
He possesses legendary-level mental power and is exceedingly favored by elemental energies, with his magic limit increasing almost constantly, soon reaching a level matching his mental power.
"Now, I finally have a sufficiently destructive method."
Garon is pleased with the prowess of the Grand Sun Fireball.
The power of time is mysterious and strong, but due to Garon's rudimentary use of time power, it's more of an aid, leaving him lacking in powerful offensive methods.
Against beings like the Stone City Lord or Balton equipped with the Wrath of Winter, even if frozen by Garon's time stop, killing them would require significant effort.
Now, with the Grand Sun Fireball, even legends would struggle to withstand a direct hit.
Moreover, Garon has the ability to cast spells in succession.
This means, once he releases a spell, disregarding the consumption of time power, he can continue using it from the past to the present without any cooldown, almost like having a skill without any cooldown.
After successfully casting the Grand Sun Fireball once, Garon is eager for more.
But he's not yet proficient.
During the casting, a lot of fire elemental energy was lost, interacting with the cold air, leading to energy wastage and lengthening his casting time.
Though successful, his proficiency is lacking, requiring more preparation time and slightly reducing its power.
In real combat, this level of proficiency would hardly provide an opportunity to cast spells.
If interrupted due to lack of proficiency, spell backlash could put Garon in danger, and he's not keen on experiencing the backlash of a ninth-level spell, which could result in injury.
After a short rest, Garon continues to cast spells, improving his proficiency with the Grand Sun Fireball.
Thus, the land of the far north ice field suffers.
Amid thunderous booms, the ground cracks open, flames surge, and scorching hot winds blow far away.
Many ice field creatures noticing the commotion flee far away, daring not to come close.
Practice is the best way to hone skills.
After destroying two more snow mountains, Garon's proficiency with the Grand Sun Fireball significantly increases.
Looking at the devastated, still-hot charred ground below, Garon is satisfied, feeling exceptionally pleased.
"Am I inherently drawn to violence?"
Garon wonders.
"No, impossible. I'm just happy because of my research into the truth of magic."
With a wingspan of forty meters, Garon casts a dragon-shaped shadow on the ground, his membranes rustling in the wind. With little magic left, Garon decides to leave, planning to continue after his magic replenishes.
Suddenly, an ominous and evil power brews, grows, and ascends, halting Garon's body, filling him with a heart-thumping premonition.
His previously relaxed and joyful expression darkens.
Garon recognizes this power.
Years ago, when he first encountered the Black Sun sculpture, he felt the same.
Now, the source of that power is not just one.
"The Primordial Sun God hasn't given up on his malevolent intentions towards Noah's Continent."
Garon's face turns grim as he hovers in the air, scanning his surroundings, his gaze sweeping in all directions.
Several thick black mist columns rise from the ground in different places, striking the sky at the same time.
Centered around the points where the black columns fall, darkness spreads.
Like ink dropping into clear water, the originally bright sky quickly succumbs to darkness.
The darkness merges into a vast curtain, even blocking the sun, unable to cast a single ray of light or warmth onto the land.
The far north ice field, which had just welcomed the polar day, quickly darkens.
"Such a commotion."
Garon frowns deeply.
Not just the far north ice field.
Gazing into the distance, he sees black light rising at intervals, spreading thick black mist, eroding the light.
The black light acts swiftly, enveloping the sky and dispelling the light in less than a minute, leaving no chance for reaction.
The far north ice field is shrouded in darkness.
This darkness, unlike the polar night, lacks any starlight or moonlight, pitch-black as if in the deepest night, where one can't see their hand before their face, and a chilling sensation creeps in, causing dread.
All creatures of the far north ice field panic due to the sudden darkness.
"Its influence likely covers the entire Noah's Continent."
Garon's expression is grave.
He expends magic, attempting to cast spatial teleportation to check on other regions of Noah's Continent.
However, Garon finds spatial teleportation spells utterly ineffective.
A bad feeling rises within him.
Garon also tries interdimensional teleportation spells, like gemstone teleportation.
But both spatial teleportation within the crystal wall and interdimensional teleportation across crystal walls fail.
The power from the Primordial Sun God has locked space, isolating this world, rendering all teleportation spells ineffective. At this moment, all beings on Noah's Continent are trapped, like fish in a pond, birds in a cage.
The Primordial Sun God, once inactive, now reveals such terrifying means.
Garon looks towards the river of time.
To his relief, the river of time flows at a constant speed, unaffected by the darkness, indicating that time reversal, mediated by the river of time, remains usable.
"With time reversal still an option, the situation isn't too bad."
Holding his trump card, Garon feels much more at ease.
He flaps his wings, shining with spell light, swiftly returning to the fortress through the thick darkness.
Garon's kin also panic due to the sudden darkness, but seeing the luminous silver dragon, their unease dissipates significantly.
Rewinding to before the darkness spread.
Exhausted yet excited, Elinar returns to the sky above the dragon tomb.
For two years, she hasn't stopped or rested for a second, entering the deep sea, venturing into dense forests, climbing mountains, stepping into cities. Her footsteps have covered Noah's Continent, leaving behind black light seal nodes.
Elinar's power is nearly depleted.
Without the support of faith, she couldn't have persevered.
After all her travels, she returns to the sea where the metallic dragon tomb is located.
Here, Elinar meticulously completes the last black light seal node.
At this moment, the black light seal nodes rooted across Noah's Continent resonate, forming a whole, like a vast net of nodes covering the entire continent.
The stone tomb serpent dragon, with its body coiling, flies beside Elinar.
Now, the serpent dragon, over sixty meters long, is a legendary serpent dragon by size alone, a powerful individual. But its aura is weak, its skeletal body lacking any luster in its scales.
In the serpent dragon's belly, occupying nearly half its body, bulges as if inflated.
All the serpent dragon's energy is being absorbed by the being within its belly.
More chilling, near the serpent dragon's belly, eyes grow on the scales, clustered together, sending shivers down the spine at a glance.
But for Elinar, this is the most beautiful, grandest thing in the world.
She gazes at the serpent dragon's belly, her expression fervent.
"Great and supreme Primordial Sun God, today marks your arrival in this world."
"Your humble and devout follower offers everything to celebrate your coming."
As Elinar prays softly, the serpent dragon shows signs of pain.
Its belly writhes, slowly splitting open.
Simultaneously, the calm sea surface becomes turbulent, waves rolling, the clear blue sky obscured by dark clouds. Wind and storm, lightning and thunder, all arise at once, the entire sea area under an oppressive atmosphere.
Such celestial phenomena can't escape the eyes of the powerful.
It also draws the gaze of the gods.
But Elinar no longer needs to hide.
As the serpent dragon's belly splits and thick black mist forms within, the black light seal nodes also erupt.
Darkness spreads, sealing the world.
The gods are unaware of these events.
Compared to watching a world-invading barbaric god, the deities with followers on Noah's Continent have believers spread across countless primary material worlds and can't always monitor this place.
In moments, a black, tentacled, wet orb squeezes out of the serpent dragon's belly.
Evil, cold, dark, death. Upon appearing, it exudes a terrifying aura.
Elinar, overwhelmed with emotion, says, "My lord, you've finally come to this world!"
Unable to contain herself, she sheds tears.
"Below lies the body of a legendary true dragon, which can help you grow quickly. Please, consume it."
Elinar knows she can't invade the dragon tomb to steal the legendary body inside.
But the Primordial Sun God, incarnated in flesh on Noah's Continent, can certainly achieve this.
The black orb ignores Elinar.
As soon as she speaks, it senses the dragon tomb, tracing a black trajectory in the air, descending into the deep sea.
The serpent dragon, now useless, still clings to a faint life.
No one pays it any attention.
The serpent dragon falls from the sky, its body engulfed by the surging ocean.
Meanwhile, in the capital of Dimo, the Temple of Light.
The Light Pope tightly grips the Coronation Scepter, his complexion pale.
He looks at the dark sky outside the temple, striving to remain calm, but the bulging veins on his palm betray his unease.
This scene matches the terrible scenario he saw in the oracle.
The Light Pope doesn't delay.
He approaches the statue of the God of Light, prostrating at its feet made of jade, praying repeatedly.
"Merciful, compassionate, kind God of Light, your devout follower seeks your response."
"The light of primordial darkness has invaded Noah's Continent. I pray here, asking you to send down the light of hope, to save your followers from endless darkness with the mighty power of light."
Again and again, the Light Pope prays to the God of Light.
But the God of Light remains silent, offering no response.
Gradually, the Light Pope senses something wrong.
It's not that the God of Light is unwilling to respond, but his prayers can't be sent out.
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