The enormous Ancient Thunder Eagle hovered above the plains like a dark, heavy cloud, pressing down the Silver Su Grass below into bowing low.
Ronan stood on the back of the Ancient Thunder Eagle, slowly connecting his consciousness, transmitting so information over.
Before long, the youthful, deep voice of Ancient Thunder Eagle Oiris resonated in his mind.
"Bro... Brother, can I still call you brother?"
From Oiris’s voice, Ronan detected a trace of inexplicable nervousness and unease, and he was montarily stunned. Then he understood—it was his Ancient Frost Whale Bloodline that made Oiris feel "dreaded".
Although the concentration of the Ancient Frost Whale Bloodline in him was low, it was still the noble bloodline closest to a mythical creature. While ordinary wizards might not sense it, for a magic beast like Oiris, whose true form was an ancient exotic species, no matter how much Ronan restrained himself, the naturally emitted bloodline aura was enough to greatly stimulate the other’s nerves.
"Of course."
Ronan couldn’t help but smile faintly, gently placing his hand on a feather with a bluish-green pattern on Oiris’s neck, and said softly, "I have always been grateful for your contribution, Oiris.
We will have a long and solid friendship."
"Hoo—"
The wind rose fiercely on the plain lush with Silver Su Grass, as the mountain-like Ancient Thunder Eagle slowly took flight, flapping its wings.
Hearing Ronan’s response, Oiris’s voice seed to lighten considerably, speaking briskly, "Ten sunsets, I only need ten sunsets to take you to where you want to go, my dear brother.
No one can fly faster than Oiris..."
With a beat of Oiris’s wings, accompanied by a dense crackling sound of thunder, its body suddenly shot forward and plunged into the clouds.
The scenery on either side transford instantly into countless elongated lines. Ronan chuckled, patted Oiris’s feathers, and gradually walked to the Golden Throne specially crafted for him and sat down.
The windproof and defense arrays engraved on the throne activated automatically, as Ronan gazed at the swiftly passing clouds before him, lost in thought.
"Not many wizards know the na O’Brien, especially in this era..."
The voice of Alazan echoed in his mind.
"Eve seed very certain that I could find this place."
Ronan lifted his eyes, a gleam flickered in them, "Does she know of your existence?"
"For a Prophet Wizard, this is not surprising.
But you, Damien... is there sothing you are hiding from ?"
Ronan shook his head and said, "I just feel that her suggestion ca sowhat tily.
This was originally the place we planned to go to, so it coincidentally fulfills her wish."
O’Brien, a formidable Fire Wizard from the era of Alazan,—that was a ti between ancient and prehistoric periods.
Alazan had ntioned O’Brien’s deeds to Ronan once.
Indeed, he was the Wizard who occupied a natural habitat of Fire Elental Life, where he reared Fla Demons and Fire Dragons.
That place is now known as the "Realm of Departing Fire", and O’Brien’s laboratory is precisely within it.
The mysterious golden stone tablet Ronan acquired in the Silver Ear Goblin Treasure Vault docunted that the Legendary Magic Tool "Songlin’s Hamr," forged by the Dwarf Clan, was buried there in the Realm of Departing Fire.
And Alazan had also expressed a hope that Ronan could collect a vial of Fire Dragon Marrow for him from the Realm of Departing Fire.
From any perspective, the Realm of Departing Fire seed to be a place Ronan had to visit.
It’s just....
"Fire."
A faint gleam flickered in Ronan’s eyes, recalling the prophecy of his death that he once saw in the fireplace.
In the prophecy’s vision, what Ronan saw most often was fire, flas, endless dreadful flas.
It’s hard not to associate it with the Realm of Departing Fire.
If his "death" was to occur in the Realm of Departing Fire, why would Prophet Eve want him to go there voluntarily?
Ronan couldn’t believe she was unaware of the prophecy’s content.
In Prophet Eve’s communications, she also didn’t specify the purpose of him going to O’Brien’s laboratory.....
This is the irkso part of dealing with a Prophet Wizard, they like to play riddles, and you cannot question them, yet are often forced to follow their instructions.
Ronan habitually tapped the shaft of his finger adorned with the Magic Ring against the armrest of the Golden Throne, producing a crisp sound with each strike, a ans to vent his slight inner irritation.
After a while, he took a deep breath, casting aside the distractions in his mind, and focused his spirit into his Consciousness Space.
Within the Consciousness Space, his Elental Spirit mimicking the Frost Whale silently glided, above which the Void Mirror continued to sprinkle its silvery glow, dripping into the Elental Spirit.
Even after reaching Level 5, the cultivation did not cease.
On one hand, the lineage of space magic from Minotaur and the legacy of the Ice Emperor awaited further exploration.
On the other hand, "The Spirit Heart Amber" could now be practiced once again.
Considering this, Ronan’s awareness slowly seeped into the Mist Space, observing its entirety from an aerial perspective.
The Holy Blood Tree, Benny, the Elent Pool, Dudor the Third, Dust Elf Ariety, Beautiful Shell....
Everything within the Mist Space developed steadily and orderly, while Ronan’s gaze fell upon a void where the imnse Awakening Snake floated quietly like a "corpse".
Occasionally, the tip of its tail twitched slightly, suggesting that through nourishing what thoughts the inhabitants within the Mist Space, it had slowly begun recovering.
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