"Of course I understand," the young man stammered a bit in response, "but it's just something I'm not used to."

The messenger scoffed silently.

He asked, "So you are sure those people have already left."

"Of course, I saw Odin leading those people away," the young man said and then added, "At least, that's how it should be."

The messenger frowned, which is why he disliked these Holy Choosers; they were always so unreliable.

However, he did not rebuke them, only reminded, "This task is very important for us."

"I understand," the young man hurriedly said, "My teacher has also sent back news."

"That's good then."

"But actually, we don't have to worry about those people, do we?" the young man asked, "We have..."

"Prudence is never a mistake," the messenger replied, "Remember this phrase, you may find it useful in the future."

The young man finally shut his mouth awkwardly.

Just as the two were talking, a wisp of black flame suddenly rose from the withered leaves ahead.

This extraordinary sight made both of them fell silent, looking in that direction. The young man hadn't reacted yet, but the messenger's face already showed a grave expression—the fire burned higher and deeper, eventually forming a humanoid shape.

Within the black flames, mixed with purple gleam, the flames twisted, and a hoarse voice emerged: "Have you not arrived yet?"

The messenger stepped forward respectfully, bowed his head, and said, "We have arrived in Nevade; Summer's End Tower is right ahead, my lord."

"Good," the hoarse voice answered, "Do not disappoint me—everything else is irrelevant, capture that young boy."

"I understand," the messenger lowered his head even further, and, on his pale forehead, a bead of sweat appeared: "Lord Fanlite."

But there was no response from the front for a long time.

After a while, the young alchemist couldn't help but remind him, "That thing has already left, Lord Messenger..."

That thing?

The messenger lifted his head, glanced at the withered leaves burned to ashes, then turned back to look strangely at the young man, but shook his head without answering, only holding his Necromancy Staff as he walked forward. After a few steps, he turned back and answered coldly:

"Follow me, we don't have much time."

...

The seventh challenge begins with the creation of a Magic Guided Conductor.

However, its ending was somewhat beyond Fang Hong's expectations.

It was a massive hall, as large as a giant kingdom palace—towering columns, one after another, densely standing around the hall—looking up, above the hall, there was only a deep dome.

But that dome was not ordinary, surrounded by loops of Silver Rail, with metal-forged stars above. They run along the track slowly, once every forty-nine days, its record is the Dwarves' calendar.

And the stars interspersed above—as well as under the dome, were rows of bookshelves as high as several meters, standing between the columns. They formed a ring, encircling the center of the hall.

In that place, a shadow of bones stood silently.

It was a dragon.

It once had a formidable reputation, but now it was silently dormant here.

It died under the most renowned of the five Dragon Slaying Swords, beneath the Holy Sword in the hands of Dwarf Hero Valit, so much so that for a long period in mortals' history, people believed this was the last Dark Giant Dragon in this world.

Until the reappearance of Nikopolas.

People gradually realized that the enemies of the past might return.

Yet at least in this place, on this silent skeletal corpse, still tells the epics of those past heroes.

And when Fang Hong looked up at this scene, he instinctively recognized this place—it was the Holy Land of Dwarf Artisans, also their largest hall under Eldron—the Sanctified Forge Hall.

The seventh Red Gate's assessment was conducted here, and the content of the assessment was only a simple phrase:

"Forge a Legend."

Fang Hong did not know, this was where Loofah stopped, only when he saw this topic, he couldn't help but feel a sense of bewilderment from the bottom of his heart.

What does it mean to forge a legend?

He once indeed forged a legend, it was a pair of exquisite daggers, with traces of what seemed like starlight forged on the blades; and in a twist of fate, the pair of daggers given to Miss Elisa became, up to this point, the only legendary Magic Guided Conductor he made.

This, in itself, was something to be proud of.

But this pride stopped here.

Fang Hong never imagined that the seventh challenge's final gate would pose such a requirement. Although all along the way, he had gone through various tests related to craftsmanship, and vaguely guessed that this level's end might be related to the creation.

But forging a legend...

This topic was indeed too grand.

As up till now, the deeper he delved into this domain, the more he felt powerless over legendary items. Because except for that one fortunate coincidence, no matter how he tried, he could not create another legendary item.

Although Miss Tata told him that the core essence of creating legends is inspiration, he did have legendary inspiration, but just didn't know how to use it.

He had not tried.

He tried various methods, but they all ended in failure.

But this challenge—

That neutral, mechanical voice told him he must succeed, otherwise, he would stop there.

"How much time do I have?" Fang Hong couldn't help but ask.

He thought he wouldn't get an answer.

But the voice told him: "You have as much time as you need."

"Or until you give up—"

Hearing this, Fang Hong pursed his lips slightly, realizing this would be a long challenge.

...

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