With a dull thud, a javelin flew in from nowhere, piercing through the spot where he had just been and striking the floor.

Luo Hao looked up and discovered that two Lizardmen had emerged from the hole where he had appeared earlier—there were more enemies. He suddenly realized it was a premeditated plan. But realizing this came too late to stop it.

As he released the young Alchemist, the latter immediately grabbed the crystal and hurled it forcefully toward the Ice Longstone.

To Luo Hao, that scene seemed like a slow-motion shot, stretching time.

He only saw the crystal slowly spinning in midair, tracing a long arc as it crashed into the massive Ice Longstone overhead.

Then there was a dazzling flash—

...

The immense wave of sound in the arena gradually began to subside.

Everyone was looking up, their mouths agape, watching the majestic ether magic power in the sky slowly coalesce into form—it resembled a vast wind coming from all directions, forming a vortex that gradually receded in midair:

At the center of the vortex, a funnel-shaped tail hung down.

It was hundreds of meters long, winding downward.

And the widest part of the funnel in the sky had a diameter of over a thousand meters, enough to encompass the entire square. The people just stared, watching the slender tail drop down from the sky, directly connecting with the arena below.

To be precise, it connected to Fang Hong's creation—

Countless magic powers flooded into the dark red arm armor that resembled split lava, and this miraculous scene lasted for several minutes before gradually dispersing.

Subsequently, the ether magic power returned to where it belonged in the world.

The sky's dimension rift restored to its original state, causing the heavy clouds to suddenly disperse and the plaza to return to a clear, cloudless view. The square brightened, giving people a sense of the sun breaking through the clouds.

Yet, at that moment, everyone forgot to speak.

"The magic power's backflow..."

"A legend is born."

In the live broadcast studio, one of the guests muttered several times without realizing it, and the staff beside him forgot to remind him not to be so absent-minded.

Because they themselves were a bit out of sorts.

But at that moment, no one could really laugh—

"Did I see wrong?"

"He actually crafted a legendary equipment?"

"Not legendary, are you stupid?"

"A legend is nothing; that's a mythic artifact."

"It's something just below the semi-divine artifact—"

Pudra's mouth hung open.

Every sound seemed stuck in the throat of this Master of Magic Potion.

He wanted to say this wasn't any main construct, but his professional integrity wouldn't let him utter such words—for although his specialty wasn't in the school of constructs, as a grand artificer, he could recognize the technique Fang Hong used to create this construct.

Moreover, the backflow of magic power and the birth of a legend, the crafting of a piece of legendary equipment, was all too clear to him.

For a grand artificer, making a legendary equipment is no easy feat.

In fact, crafting a legendary magic guided conductor involves many serendipitous factors, and for a top-tier Alchemist, producing two or three works at this level over a lifetime is worth boasting about.

Having as many as seven or eight could already be considered prolific.

As for those legends who left behind over ten, or even dozens of legendary magic guided conductors, each universally known in the history of alchemy, their names could be called out by even ordinary people.

Yet on this side of the arena stood someone who was just a newcomer, not even considered a high-order craftsman.

By what right?

Even Pudra, a renowned grand artificer, couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy—not because he himself couldn't craft legendary equipment, but because at the other person's age, what was he doing?

He too was considered a famous genius, but at that age, he was just an apprentice. After all, as a native, his growth inherently lagged behind that of an Invoker.

Yet by what right could the other person achieve this?

A similar thought arose in nearly everyone's mind.

For a long moment, Count Westwood Sibika made no sound—the fact is, the only audible person present was Old Copper Nose, Sonan Steelbrow. This old Dwarf Chairman accidentally stepped on the table edge while retreating, causing himself and the table to crash down loudly.

But no one paid him any mind.

In the arena, staff members were cautiously approaching the arm armor that resembled the Demon's Claw.

The scorch marks of magic power upon it had not yet fully disappeared, and the residual heat had already burned the table to ashes, the dark red arm armor nestled in the ashes.

The craftsmen cast a look of both reverence and awe at the young man much younger than themselves, respectfully asking, "Mr. Ade, may we examine your work?"

Fang Hong gently closed his eyes, feeling somewhat fatigued now, as if everything before had suddenly drained his energy.

He lightly nodded.

Alongside him, both Soul Fingerprint and Zheng Yongzai gazed at him with equally unbelievable eyes.

The craftsmen dared not disturb him, surrounding the arm armor and cautiously using various magic guided instruments to detect it. They could not afford to be careless, this was a legendary level magic guided conductor—

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