I Made Up Forbidden Spells, and They Actually Worked?

As soon as the words left his mouth, a middle-aged woman stepped forward, speaking respectfully, "Elder, everyone has arrived. Are you planning to depart now?"

Dean Bruce nodded slightly, and with a wave of the woman's hand, the crowd dispersed, leaving only seven young people along with two teams of guards, each armed with short swords at their waists and holding staffs in hand. The guards, though not particularly old, exuded a solid air of authority.

The woman leaned in and whispered, "Elder, the teleportation array is ready. You may depart at any time."

Hearing that a teleportation array was set up, Dean Bruce's brows lifted slightly. Convenient—no need to ask for directions.

As they moved toward the teleportation array, Dean Bruce studied his companions. Among the seven young people, only Prolo Hawthorne stood out with his high-profile demeanor. The remaining six wore simple clothing and kept their magical aura subdued, making it hard to discern their identities.

"Introduce yourselves—name and level," Dean Bruce said abruptly, catching the group slightly off guard.

Prolo Hawthorne rolled his eyes, muttering, "What are you all standing around for? Master, want me to introduce them instead?"

"No need. Introduce yourselves," Dean Bruce replied firmly. He knew that understanding one's allies was key to prevailing in battles, so it was crucial to get a read on their abilities and statuses to factor them into potential combat.

The six youths wasted no time, each stating their name and magic level.

Maggie Swain, a petite yet curvy young woman who barely came up to Dean Bruce's waist, turned out to be the most gifted among them, second only to Prolo Hawthorne. At not even twenty years old, she'd already reached the ninth level in magic.

Not exactly a prodigy, but true talent is rare, and it had earned her a spot in the Quicksand Secret Realm.

Another young woman, tall and slender, introduced herself as Mandy Marcus. Her level was considerably lower—just barely at the first level of magic, suggesting she likely had influential backing.

But Mandy's humble attire and lack of magical artifacts intrigued Dean Bruce. How had she secured her place?

Apart from these two, the other four were young men, all around twenty, and they stuck close to Prolo Hawthorne like loyal followers.

[Mark Lawrien, fifth-level mage; Ruby Graid, seventh-level mage; Horns Kelly, seventh-level mage; and Gree Madoron, eighth-level mage.]

[Seems Prolo has the strongest backing. Even the two girls, though keeping their distance, are wary of him.]

[As long as Prolo's taken care of, the others are his responsibility.]

Determined, Dean Bruce steadied himself and spoke up, "During this journey into the Secret Realm, do your best. If you encounter danger, call out for help, and I'll be watching over you!"

The Secret Realm had been opened countless times before, and most valuable treasures had long been scavenged. Dean Bruce wasn't inclined to venture off on his own.

Simply fulfilling his duties while taking advantage of the faster magic flow in the Secret Realm to strengthen himself made this trip ideal for Dean Bruce.

After all, he had pressing matters ahead: facing a powerful archmage, exploring a unique Relic in Notting City that could alter space, and rescuing his parents. Each task demanded he grow stronger as quickly as possible.

Dean Bruce, being a newly appointed elder, was not well-acquainted with the guards, nor with these young mages. After answering him briefly, they fell silent, creating a rather distant atmosphere.

Fortunately, Prolo Hawthorne, though a troublemaker, had a good sense of timing. He turned toward Maggie Swain with a playful grin. "Hey Maggie, I heard your grandpa has led teams into the Quicksand Secret Realm dozens of times. Did he happen to tell you any inside tips?"

Dean Bruce couldn't hide a flicker of surprise at this – who would have thought the highest-ranking mage among them was so well-connected?

But then, how had Mandy Marcus secured her spot?

Maggie Swain furrowed her brows slightly, then shook her head. "Grandpa didn't say much. Just warned me to stay away from any mechanisms marked with three symbols."

Mark Lawrien scoffed. "My dad said all the treasures in the Quicksand Secret Realm were long looted. Once we're inside, we shouldn't go wandering around. We should go straight in and use the Realm's formations for training."

Scanning the group, Dean Bruce noted Mark Lawrien carefully – another insider!

That left only one more well-connected individual. Keeping an eye on them could secure a few favors; small ones, maybe, but in a pinch, they might still prove useful.

With that in mind, Dean Bruce spoke quietly, "Stay together as a group. I'll be watching over you the whole way."

"Thank you, Elder," they all replied, nodding in gratitude. Truthfully, they were all somewhat concerned that Dean Bruce might choose to explore the Relics on his own and neglect their safety.

In the past, each of the major powers would assign a leader for such Secret Realm expeditions, making promises to ensure the young mages' safety. Yet once inside, many leaders ended up prioritizing their own search for Relics, leaving the youths vulnerable and sometimes leading to casualties.

In the Secret Realm, information is notoriously difficult to communicate, and everyone moves separately, making it nearly impossible to punish those who abandon others.

Finding a team leader willing to offer protection was indeed fortunate, and the young mages were grateful for it.

Though the Secret Realm had been explored numerous times, leaving few real dangers, the most hazardous threat often came from other people competing for resources.

As they spoke, Dean Bruce led the group to the teleportation array. Once everyone was in position, a deep rumbling sound erupted, space rippling around them as the magical waves enveloped Dean Bruce and his team.

Buzz—

Before he could open his eyes, Dean Bruce heard the whistling of wind and sand against his ears and felt the soft, shifting ground beneath his feet. Surprised, he quickly opened his eyes to find an endless expanse of sand and dust stretching before him.

Looking out into the distance, he spotted a towering black silhouette faintly visible on the horizon, almost reaching the sky.

If he wasn't mistaken, that should be the entrance to the Secret Realm.

"Pah, pah…"

"Why's there so much sand here?"

"Gree, get that artifact of yours out and shield my teacher from the wind and sand!" At Prolo Hawthorne's shout, the young man barely opened his eyes before crouching down, turning his back to the wind, and rummaging for his artifact.

Dean Bruce raised an eyebrow and, with a thought, cast the Compassion of Heaven and Earth spell. Instantly, all the blowing sand lost its force, dropping harmlessly to the ground, forming a carpet of soil beneath them.

"Huh?"

"What kind of magic is this?"

Prolo Hawthorne and the others stared in awe.

Dean Bruce responded calmly, "Your thoughtfulness is appreciated, but as an elder, it's my duty to ensure your safety."

"No need to search for artifacts; let's move forward!"

At his words, both the participants and the guards looked at Dean Bruce with newfound respect.

Especially the guards. In past expeditions, it was always they who had to endure the wind and sand at the front, clearing a path for others.

"Elder Dean, I know the way; let me lead us."

One of the guards offered gratefully. "Even though this is only the outer area of the Secret Realm, there are still dangers. Many spots appear like harmless sand dunes, but stepping on them can cause you to sink deep underground. And if we encounter a high-level beast, we'd be in grave danger."

Hearing this, Dean Bruce agreed, allowing the guard to take the lead, while he turned his gaze toward Gree Maduron.

Typically, people who can join in on such ventures are of a similar rank, so there was a high likelihood that Gree Maduron was the last of the "insider connections."

This puzzled Dean Bruce a bit—weren't insiders usually underqualified individuals who were slipped in through connections?

Why, then, did these particular insiders have decent strength and respectable levels?

But such thoughts were better kept to himself. Dean Bruce refocused and changed the subject, asking, "Are we in the Kingdom of Hibiscus? Why is there so much sand and dust here?"

"Teacher, this is the Stomo Desert," Prolo Hawthorne grinned, eager to show off his knowledge. "It's a wasteland of sand and dust for miles. You can't compare it to the Kingdom of Hibiscus. My grandpa told me that the sands in the Kingdom of Hibiscus aren't just because the gods are angry. They say it's because someone powerful was angered."

"Apparently, in a fit of rage, that powerful being created a spatial tunnel between the Kingdom of Hibiscus and the Stomo Desert, diverting all the sandstorms into Hibiscus."

Hearing this, Dean Bruce's eyes lit up. To truly understand this world, books weren't the only resource; legends and tales could be equally valuable.

In fact, in a world of magic, legends sometimes held more truth than books.

The others were drawn in as well, casting curious glances at Prolo Hawthorne.

However, Prolo only grinned at Dean Bruce, not adding anything more.

After waiting a good while, Dean Bruce frowned slightly and said, "And then? Are you really making me ask?"

"And then? Well, there isn't any 'and then'!" Prolo looked genuinely confused.

With a twitch of his mouth, Dean Bruce gave Prolo a light smack on the head. "Enough chatter. Let's keep moving!"

With the guards leading the way, the group didn't encounter any traps. Occasionally, a beast would appear, only to be sent flying by Dean Bruce's Compassion of Heaven and Earth spell, which manipulated the sandstorm to hurl them away.

Not only that, but with Dean Bruce's recent level increase, his magic capacity had risen to over 2000 points, allowing him to maintain Compassion of Heaven and Earth for an impressive duration. This left everyone amazed.

How strong did one have to be to sustain such a high-level spell for so long?

For a moment, Dean Bruce's image in their minds grew grand and formidable, like a towering mountain.

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