Arcane Journey

Seeing Vizlan's distraught look, Brian was speechless. He could only shrug his shoulders, find a chair to sit on, and wait patiently for him to recover.

Fortunately, Vizlan did not keep Brian waiting for long. He turned himself into a spectator, and before Brian could even sit down in his chair, the other party came to his senses.

He quickly put away the magic mirror that was glowing with a faint light, straightened his collar, and even paid attention to the wrinkles on the cuffs, as if he wanted to restore order to every bit of disorder.

At this moment, Vizlan's expression was like the surface of a lake in winter, calm and cold, as if the drow wizard in a trance just now was just an illusion.

"Since Mr. Brian has fulfilled the conditions I proposed and collected all the materials I need."

Vizlan spoke slowly, his voice low and steady, without a trace of emotion, as if he was stating an insignificant fact, "Then I will not break my promise and will help you destroy the magic circle that disrupts the balance of the radiation power of the Underdark."

When he said this, his eyes were as sharp as knives, staring straight ahead, as if the magic circle was standing before him, waiting for judgment.

As soon as he finished speaking, Vizlan slowly took out an antique metal key from the leather rope on his chest.

The key is made entirely of dark gold, and its surface is covered with runes as thin as hair. It looks like a mysterious relic left over from ancient times, and every scratch contains some kind of indescribable power.

He clenched his five fingers slightly, and the coolness from his fingertips seemed to penetrate the air, causing the temperature around him to drop a few degrees suddenly.

Then, Vizlan raised his hand and gently drew a line in the air.

With this stroke, visible ripples appeared in the air, spreading out like the surface of a lake being hit by a stone.

Then, magical energy surged out from the tip of the key and transformed into strands of silver-blue light, interweaving and entwining in mid-air, moving and changing like a living thing, gradually outlining the outline of an exquisite and complex magic circle.

Although this magic circle is small, it has an exquisite structure. The flow of runes exudes an ancient and majestic aura, as if even space is suppressed by it.

Brian was watching coldly at first, but the moment he saw the magic circle clearly, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, and then turned into strong interest.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, a meaningful smile appeared on the corner of his mouth, and he began to re-evaluate the seemingly low-key old wizard in front of him.

There is no doubt that the magic circle cast by Vizlan is not an ordinary thing.

It has the same effect as those large magic arrays deep in the Underdark that affect the entire underground world, and even faintly exudes a taste of the power of the source.

Unless one has a profound understanding of the nature of magic, it would be impossible to comprehend the mystery.

And in Brian's mind, a clear understanding emerged: before they met, Vizlan had already planned for a long time.

Not only had he prepared early on to deal with the various unknown threats in the Underdark, but after obtaining the obscure magic notes of the Chief Archmage Hedrof, he quickly cracked the key sealing spells with his amazing comprehension and insight.

This calmness and meticulousness, as well as the profound background hidden behind it, forced Brian to admit that the old wizard in front of him was far more dangerous than he had initially imagined.

"You must have seen the magic duel between me and my old rival before." Vizlan's voice was low and slow, like a wisp of dust rising from the depths of time. He stared at the magic circle that was slowly taking shape in the void, and a complex emotion flashed in his eyes, like memories or unwillingness.

After a long while, he sighed deeply, his tone mixed with some self-mockery and pride: "As you can see, in terms of magical attainments and methods, there is indeed some gap between me and Haizhuof... But when it comes to the creative spells of the School of Conjuration -"

Vizran paused, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, like a thorn flower blooming in the cold wind, "If I claim to be the second, no one in the entire Underdark wizard group, even in Shamas of the Darknet City, would dare to claim to be the first."

Brian listened quietly, his expression calm but focused.

His gaze remained on the magic circle in the void. It was a painting drawn by pure magic power, with smooth lines and exquisite structure. It seemed to contain some kind of orderly beauty when the universe was first born.

As a legendary archmage who is proficient in the field of creation, Brian's perception of magic has long surpassed that of ordinary people.

Therefore, at the moment when Vizlan cast the spell, he had already captured the creative magic veins hidden beneath the rune tracks.

This is a construction that is almost artistic, rigorous yet flexible, with both the coldness of logic and the fieryness of inspiration.

He nodded slowly, his eyes showing some appreciation and recognition: "Your Excellency is right. The structure and energy flow of this spell have indeed reached perfection. Even in the surface world, I have never seen such a sophisticated creative spell."

"only……"

At this point, Brian paused and expressed his doubts, "Since Mr. Vizlan is so talented in creative spells, why did he choose to specialize in necromancy spells?"

"Because in the ancient city of Orens, the only school of magic that has been studied to the extreme is the School of Necromancer." Vizlan's voice was low and hoarse, with a bit of long-suppressed fatigue and regret.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze passing through the dim cave and falling on the mottled and damp rock wall in the distance, as if he could see through the curtain of time and see his past self.

"With the help of the countless magic books available, I can improve my strength more quickly by specializing in the School of Necromancer, rather than creating spells by trial and error, and thus have the power to compete with Haizhuof."

There was a hint of bitter stubbornness in Vizlan's tone, as if he was explaining to others, but more like a defense of his own persistence over the years.

After a moment of silence, he sighed again, his voice becoming increasingly slow: "Unfortunately, I still failed in the end..."

This sentence is like a drop of water falling into a deep pool, causing ripples.

He looked down at his hands. His knuckles were long but covered with old wounds, as if telling the price of struggling with necromancy over the years.

"Sometimes, I even wonder, if I hadn't been so competitive back then..." Vizlan's voice trembled slightly, and an indescribable emotion emerged in his eyes, one of regret and nostalgia.

"With my talent for creative spells, I may be able to go further and farther, instead of hiding in this moldy cave like a mole." (End of this chapter)