Chapter 562: Back to the battlefield (II)
A sprawling labyrinth of interlinked canyons stretched across thousands of kilometers, forming one of the most perilous battlegrounds in the Land of the Three Calamities. Even the shallowest of these gorges plummeted over fifteen hundred meters into darkness, and there were some places so profoundly deep that even at midday, the sun’s rays failed to illuminate the bottom. This domain was known as the Howling Chasm and was notorious among human and Vorometallicae warriors.
A long-forgotten, enigmatic force permeated the entire region, hindering the senses of cultivators who dared to enter. Under its influence, one might stand a mere fifty meters from an enemy yet remain completely unaware of their presence unless they managed to make direct visual contact. Because the Howling Chasm sat directly between the Golden Sky Fortress of Graecia and a major Vorometallicae stronghold, it became a perpetual theater of conflict for Sages from both factions.
For those below the Sage Tier, stepping into this area was considered suicide. A single slip—or even the faintest misjudgment—could result in a swift death. Meanwhile, Legends generally abstained from this battleground, not out of fear but due to a tacit understanding between Graecia and the Vorometallicae.
They treated the Howling Chasm as a crucible of sorts: a place where Sages could refine their power through combat and where only the strongest might emerge as potential Legends. Neither side truly trusted the other, so each maintained outposts equipped with detection towers to monitor the arrival of any Legend-tier threats. Once such a presence was detected, friendly troops would withdraw, refusing to allow higher-level cultivators to tip the balance in what was meant to be a proving ground for Sages alone.
Against this grim backdrop, a middle-aged female warrior now found herself fighting for her very life. A deep wound spanned her chest, exposing torn flesh and glistening bone. The gash had shredded her once-sturdy armor, leaving her open to further attacks. Each breath was labored and shallow, accompanied by jarring spasms as waves of electric energy crackled through her muscles and nerves.
She fixed her gaze on the monstrous being that stood a short distance away. This Voroe Sage seemed molded out of conductive ore, his enormous frame accentuated by jagged plates of blackened, lightning-charged metal. Sparks danced along his limbs, occasionally discharging into the chasm’s rocky floor with audible zaps. At that moment, she couldn’t help but focus on his hulking claws—razor-sharp instruments that glowed with flickering arcs of storm energy, revealing their lethal potential. One misstep in her defenses had allowed him to land a blow, and the consequences were dire.
Yet, her eyes remained resolute, unyielding. She had come to the Land of the Three Calamities to hone her skills, well aware that her life could be forfeited at any moment. If death was her fate, she intended to meet it fighting rather than cowering. A sneer curved the Voroe Sage’s metallic features, his teeth resembling serrated shards of steel.
"Yes, keep struggling, little girl," he hissed, arcs of lightning crawling over his obsidian plating. "It will be all the more gratifying when I—Harbider—see your face contort in horror as you realize you can’t escape death!"
With that sadistic declaration, he lunged, each footstep shattering the stone beneath him. Though her chest burned with agonizing pain, the woman raised her mace in both hands, preparing to counter. Her mind raced through the possibilities. Perhaps she could duck at the last moment or aim a well-timed strike at a vulnerable joint. She braced for impact, teeth clenched against the surging current pulsing through her body.