I Made Up Forbidden Spells, and They Actually Worked?

As light flickered, figures descended into the eighth layer of space, and a cacophony of sounds erupted. The woman with long, purple waves of hair fell silent.

The relationships among the top-tier factions were intricate and complex; making a rash move could lead to an unfavorable position.

Dean Bruce looked around and noticed that everyone who had arrived at the eighth layer was from top-tier powers: the War God Temple, the Alchemist Guild, the Adventurer's Guild, and the Church of Light. Only the military had yet to arrive.

Upon seeing members of the Church of Light, Hannah Fields's expression shifted, and she swiftly floated over.

Nelson Paprik chuckled, "They've already arrived? Let's stick to the usual rule: let them spar among themselves to decide the ownership of the mat."

The leader of the War God Temple frowned and asked, "What about the military? Aren't we waiting for them?"

"They have other matters this year and won't be coming to this layer," Nelson Paprik replied with a smile. "This is good for us; those military folks are all lunatics. When they get heated in a spar, it could easily lead to casualties."

At this remark, several leaders nodded in agreement, though the younger ones looked unconvinced.

Coming from top-tier factions themselves, they were naturally reluctant to concede to anyone else.

At that moment, Nelson Paprik turned to Dean Bruce and said, "Let those kids stop their training."

Dean Bruce did not respond directly but countered, "Now that we're at the eighth layer, is all you care about the mat? Aren't you interested in trying to reach the ninth layer?"

As soon as Dean Bruce finished speaking, everyone's gaze turned toward the massive sculpture.

Nelson Paprik shook his head and calmly replied, "In all my years of leading teams here, I've never seen anyone pass this trial!"

"Rather than waste time, it's better to cultivate here; at least we can increase our magic power a bit."

Before Dean Bruce could speak, the leader of the War God Temple interjected, "Nelson, just because people in the past couldn't do it doesn't mean that people now can't either. Besides, there have been those who have succeeded!"

The leader of the War God Temple turned to Dean Bruce with a smile and said, "Since this friend dares to bring up this matter, he must have some confidence. Why not let him share his thoughts? If it's truly feasible, we can all work together and give it a shot; it's not impossible."

As his words fell, everyone's gaze shifted to Dean Bruce.

Nelson Paprik sized up Prolo Hawthorne and the others, who were still recovering from their injuries, and nodded. "Given their injuries, have you already tried this? Any findings?"

"No, we've just started our attempts; you all arrived too soon." Dean Bruce wasn't foolish enough to reveal his observations. He simply wanted this group to act as his test subjects.

For a moment, everyone fell silent, exchanging glances.

Those capable of leading teams in the Secret Realm were no fools; they understood Dean Bruce's intentions.

But the final layer of the Sandpit Secret Realm was extremely challenging, and no one could predict what might happen. Coupled with the prospect of immense rewards, their hesitation grew.

Did he want them to be his test subjects?

Who's to say they wouldn't be the final victors?

Nelson Paprik sensed the eager anticipation among the group and scoffed, "If you all want to go, then go ahead. But I'll make it clear: I won't be involved. If you're unwilling to stay and cultivate, then these three mats belong to the Alchemist Guild!"

"Is the Alchemist Guild claiming exclusive rights to the mats on the eighth layer?" The woman with long, purple, wavy hair suddenly realized and spoke up. "How about this: those who wish to challenge the ninth layer can go ahead, while the others can still decide the ownership of the mats through sparring!"

Upon hearing this, everyone nodded. After all, not everyone was eager to challenge the ninth layer. The nearly forty times the cultivation speed compared to the outside world on the eighth layer had already tempted many.

Nelson Paprik narrowed his eyes slightly and said quietly, "What about Noib Rat? Do you have full authority to represent him?"

The woman with the purple waves smiled, "Why not? Or do you, Elder Nelson, look down on women?"

"Hmph." Nelson Paprik snorted. "Bring Noib out!"

"I'm sorry, but Noib has gone off to explore on his own, so it might be difficult for him to accommodate your wishes." The woman replied calmly, "Elder Nelson, your persistent questioning is rather vexing. Are you trying to change the subject so you can enjoy the mats on the eighth layer all by yourself?"

"Alyosha, remember that Nelson is a senior; mind your attitude," the leader of the War God Temple chuckled, making Nelson Paprik roll his eyes.

That was clearly implying he was being overbearing and disrespectful due to his age!

Alyosha Gode laughed, "Lord Madrid is right; I was the one who overstepped."

Buzz—

As the light flickered, figures descended nearby, interrupting the discussions among Dean Bruce and the others.

This time, the arrivals were few—only about ten people, including representatives from three factions!

Among them was an old acquaintance of Dean Bruce's—Carol Lane.

"Phew, that was tough! We made it just in time!"

"Fortunately, we chose the right door in the end; otherwise, we would have been stuck in the seventh layer!"

The gasps of surprise echoed around, indicating that they were the last group to reach the eighth layer.

Dean Bruce scanned the entire space and noticed that there were only about sixty people present. Compared to the thousands who initially entered, it was clear that the difficulty was indeed significant.

In fact, if it weren't for the intervention of the leaders, it's likely that no one would have made it this far!

This also highlighted that rules held little value for the strong.

While they claimed to be honing the younger generation, it ultimately came down to the strength of the leaders. The stronger the leaders, the higher the layers their young members could reach, and consequently, their cultivation speed would increase.

Carol Lane noticed the attention of the crowd and quickly stepped forward, slightly bowing. "Carol greets the esteemed elders."

The Temple of Wisdom was somewhat weaker in the presence of top-tier factions, prompting her to adopt a more modest demeanor.

"Ah, Carol, how is your father?" Nelson Paprik said with a cheerful smile, his attitude noticeably warmer than toward others.

Noticing this, Dean Bruce couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

It seemed that the power backing Carol Lane was not weak!

"My father is currently in seclusion," Carol Lane replied, maintaining her poise. "I wonder if the elders have reached a decision?"

Nelson Paprik chuckled, "Well, that depends on you. Do you wish to stay here and cultivate, or do you want to attempt to challenge the ninth layer?"

"Challenge the ninth layer?" Carol Lane's expression shifted to one of surprise, then she smiled and said, "It's been years since anyone has succeeded. Rather than trying to reach the ninth layer, it would be better to stay here to cultivate. If one gets injured, their strength might even regress."

Upon hearing this, many people hesitated again.

Indeed, if one failed to challenge the ninth layer, not only would they be unable to cultivate, but if they were injured or worse, that would be the greatest tragedy.

Only those who had never entered the Sandpit Secret Realm remained ambitious and were less affected by the risks.

Nelson Paprik looked at Dean Bruce and chuckled, "Let's do it this way: those willing to challenge the ninth layer can do so under your supervision, while those who wish to stay here to cultivate can come to me for sparring. Ultimately, the top three winners will occupy the mats. How does that sound to everyone?"

"I disagree!" Dean Bruce immediately shot down the proposal. "I merely suggested it; I'm not forcing anyone. If those who want to challenge the ninth layer wish to proceed, then they should do so. Why should I be responsible?"

"Exactly, he's right." Madrid Haru nodded in agreement. "We're all adults; we should be responsible for our own choices."

"Ah, Mr. Dean proposed that?" Carol Lane exclaimed, looking at Dean Bruce with confusion in her eyes.

"You know him?"

Nelson Paprik and the others turned to Carol Lane, curious. After all, Dean Bruce was a stranger to them, and having someone who could bring news was a good thing!

Everyone knew the importance of information!

Carol Lane nodded and said, "Mr. Dean once saved my life."

As she spoke, Carol Lane turned to Dean Bruce again and said earnestly, "If it's you, Mr. Dean, who wishes to challenge the ninth layer, I am willing to join! Please, give your instructions!"

At her words, everyone's brows furrowed. They couldn't understand why Carol Lane had changed her mind.

Was it really out of gratitude for saving her life?

Or did Carol Lane believe that Dean Bruce could succeed?

Dean Bruce didn't pay much attention to Carol Lane's statement; he merely nodded in acknowledgment.

There was no helping it; over time, Carol Lane's strength had become insufficient in Dean Bruce's eyes.

Nelson Paprik narrowed his eyes and said quietly, "Then it's settled. Those who wish to stay and cultivate can come to my side. You don't need to worry; I promise to be fair and just."

This statement was also directed at the leaders of the various factions, aiming to ease their concerns and encourage them to take a chance.

Nelson Paprik didn't want to risk his life alone, but he also wanted to see the hope of reaching the ninth layer. If he could find the key to success, he would want to try it himself next time.

As his words settled, the crowd began to stir.

At this point, the divisions between factions mattered little.

If they could break through to the ninth layer, they would be making history and reaping numerous rewards. It didn't matter if they came from rival factions; they would be willing to collaborate, even in the face of a sworn enemy!

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