Dark Magus Returns

Chapter 1720  When Two Worlds Collide

From the high sanctuary of his palace, Idore watched the carnage unfold with the detached fascination of a god. The control center was alive with flickering displays, each one fed by the high-altitude lenses embedded within the moving towers. He had a better angle than any battlefield commander—a panoramic, multi-angled view that allowed him to see every drop of sweat and every flinch of pain on his enemies' faces.

He saw the crushing weight of the struggle etched into Raze's features. He watched the allies—once hopeful, now battered—staggering under the relentless pressure of Turbin's unseen strikes and the golems' steady march. When the large vortex of dust and shadow finally erupted, blocking even his god-like view, Idore couldn't help but lean into his communication device. He wasn't satisfied with a quiet victory; he wanted to destroy Raze's spirit before he destroyed his body.

His voice, amplified by the magic of the towers, boomed across the entirety of the Noble Land, resonant and mocking. It was a voice that seemed to fall from the heavens themselves.

"Dark Magus Raze!" Idore's laughter carried through the wind, cutting even into the center of the vortex. "Everything is exactly as I predicted. You managed to claw your way past the second wall, yet you haven't even caught a glimpse of the third, where my palace truly resides. Did you really think you were ready for this?"

The voice paused, dripping with condescension. "You have been a wonderful test for my defenses—a way to see if the Noble Land is worthy of facing greater threats. It seems you returned to this world thinking things would be different. You brought friends. You brought a few scraps of new magic. But look at you! Your allies are useless compared to those who stand by my side. Even with your combined strength, you weren't even able to reach me!"

The mockery stung like salt in an open wound. Inside the vortex, the group felt the crushing weight of Idore's gloating. They looked at Raze, who was clutching the glowing fragment of the Golden Globe, and felt a wave of profound defeat. They were the "useless" ones Idore was laughing at.

"I'm using the Globe to open a portal to Pagna," Raze said, his voice tight with a pain that wasn't just physical. "We enter now. I don't know if Idore has the means to follow us across dimensions, but it will give us the month we need to figure something out. Does anyone object?"

Kelly and Alen looked at him, their lips trembling. They wanted to argue, to shout that they could still fight, that they could push their bodies until their hearts burst to help Raze achieve his dream. But the words died in their throats. They could see that Raze was hurting more than any of them. He was abandoning his quest for vengeance to save their lives, and the shame of that sacrifice was a heavy burden to bear.

With no objections, Raze funneled his remaining mana into the item. The Golden Globe flared with an intense, blinding radiance. In the center of the dust storm, the fabric of reality began to tear, unzipping into a shimmering door between worlds.

'As long as the pieces are separate, it will always open a doorway from one part to the location of the other,' Raze thought, his eyes fixed on the flickering portal. He expected to see the familiar, quiet landscapes of the Pagna world on the other side.

But then, the portal didn't just stay open—it rippled. A shadow stretched across the threshold from the other side. A man stepped through, moving with a familiar, cocky swagger that seemed entirely out of place in the middle of a magical war zone.

"Dame..." Raze whispered, his breath hitching.

It shouldn't have been a surprise. Dame held the other half of the Globe; the portal was naturally tethered to him. But seeing him here, in the heart of the Noble Land, felt like a hallucination.

"I told you to use the Globe when you were in trouble," Dame said, a smirk playing on his lips despite the chaos surrounding them. "I'm happy to see you actually listened to me for once, Raze."

Dame stepped fully into Alterian, his eyes scanning the golems and the flying ships with a look of mild curiosity. "You know, when I first met you, I always saw myself as your master—guiding you, teaching you the ways of the world. But at some point, that changed. You became something else. I honestly thought you'd be too stubborn to use this. I thought you'd fight to the death just to prove a point. I even considered using my half just to pop in on you, but I didn't want to ruin some secret mission. I'm glad I waited."

"Dame, we don't have time for this!" Raze urged, his eyes darting toward the edge of the vortex where the towers were charging. "We have to head back. I... I can't defeat them. Not like this."

"I know," Dame said, his expression softening as he stepped to the side of the flickering portal. "But running away isn't the only option on the table today."

He gestured toward the shimmering doorway behind him. As the portal pulsed, two figures stepped through side-by-side, their presence so powerful it seemed to stabilize the very air. On the left was Rayna of the Demonic Faction, her dark Qi swirling around her like a protective cloak. On the right was Alba, the head of the Crimson Crane, her posture regal and her blade already drawn.

But they weren't alone. Behind them, the portal began to glow even brighter as a tide of warriors began to pour through—the elite of Pagna, the masters of Qi, and the survivors of the wars Raze had helped end.

"You saved all of Pagna, Raze," Dame claimed, his voice ringing with a new kind of authority that rivaled even Idore's. "So now, let Pagna save you."

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