Wizard: My career panel has no upper limit

Chapter 201 Awakening and "Death"

The two walked along the edge of the crystal platform, and the closer they got, the more intense the abnormal energy fluctuations became.

It was an indescribable blend of frequencies, containing both the corrosive noise unique to the abyss and a more ancient and primal rhythm.

Elliott noticed a subtle change in the other person's demeanor.

His breathing became faster, his eyes became more alert, and his body muscles tensed like a bowstring.

These subtle changes, which might be imperceptible to the average person, were crystal clear to Elliott.

As they approached the northwest corner of the platform, the energy fluctuations became unusually violent.

The air was filled with a rotten and sweet smell, like honey smeared on rotten meat.

This corner of the platform is surrounded by several huge crystal pillars, forming a semi-enclosed space.

The red veins on the surface of the crystal pillars are particularly active here, as if stimulated by something, constantly writhing, and occasionally spraying out some dark red liquid, leaving corrosive marks on the ground.

In the shadows, two twisted human figures were tightly intertwined, like a constantly writhing mass of flesh.

Their bodies are covered with purplish-black tissue, and occasionally they extend tentacle-like structures to explore the air.

The surface of the lump of meat rippled from time to time, like ripples on the surface of a liquid, but it was thicker and more viscous.

Within those ripples, one could vaguely make out some distorted faces, their mouths opening and closing in pain, yet unable to utter a sound.

“Found it,” the clone Ron whispered, his voice trembling almost imperceptibly.

Just then, the lump of flesh suddenly stopped wriggling and slowly turned towards them.

As it rotated, Elliott finally saw the true form of the thing—it was the upper bodies of two humans connected together by some kind of purplish-black organic matter, forming a bizarre symbiote.

A male head and upper body emerge from the left, his face handsome but with a sickly pallor;

The other is a woman's head and upper body, extending from the right side, with a charming appearance but eyes filled with inhuman coldness.

The two merged together below their chests, becoming a writhing mass of flesh covered with tentacles and sucker-like organs.

“It’s Oliver and Cynthia.” Elliott recognized the two faces in horror, his voice trembling with surprise.

These two wanted defectors are also documented at the Crystal Spire.

Just as the wanted posters stated, they had now completely transformed into some kind of terrifying anomaly.

Human characteristics are merely a thin veil of disguise; beneath lies a pure, abyssal essence.

“Interesting,” the clone Ron said calmly, his hands hanging casually at his sides, but Elliott could sense the energy gathering within him.
"So this is the work of the 'Eye of the Abyss.' They infiltrated the Bloodline Altar with the aim of enabling the Awakened to complete their final transformation. It seems they exploited some kind of spatial vulnerability and found a way to infiltrate."

The two faces within the mass of flesh turned towards the source of the sound simultaneously, and all four eyes fixed on the clone, Ron.

"Ron Ralph."

When both mouths open simultaneously, their sounds blend together, creating a chilling harmonic effect:

You interrupted our transformation.

Oliver's face showed confusion, his brow furrowed: "No, no, you're not Ron."

A dark light flashed in his eyes, as if he were using some kind of special perception: "You're just a copy? But how could that be?"

"Of course it's not him."

The clone chuckled, its voice carrying a certain arrogant superiority: "I am merely his projection in this trial, a clone."

"A clone?" Cynthia's face twisted with sarcasm, her alluring features contorted at an unnatural angle.
"Then why are you conscious? Why can you act independently? What exactly are you?"

Her voice was filled with suspicion and vigilance, clearly realizing that what was before her was far more than just an ordinary clone.

The clone Ron did not answer, but merely narrowed his crimson-gold eyes slightly:

"You interrupted your own transformation to question me? Aren't you afraid of ruining everything?"

"It's too late."

Oliver said, almost through gritted teeth:
"We sensed an unusually strong hostility and had to halt the transformation process. We initially thought it was Ron himself coming to us, but it turned out to be just a clone."

His voice trembled with rage, and the black liquid on the surface of the fused body rippled violently.

"Wise choice."

The clone nodded, a faint smile playing on its lips.

"After all, the awakened ones are most vulnerable during the metamorphosis. Just like a snake shedding its skin, the old defenses are discarded and the new protection has not yet been formed. During this period, the awakened ones are as vulnerable as newly hatched chicks."

Elliott stood to the side, sweating profusely.

He could feel the almost tangible hostility in the air and knew that a fierce battle was about to break out.

His ears twitched incessantly, sensing the energy fluctuations from all three sides and analyzing the possible future course of the battle.

"We thought it was the real deal coming to us," Cynthia's voice rang out, alluring yet tinged with mockery.
"I didn't expect it to be just a copy. In that case, it's not bad to use you as practice!"

A glint of fervor flashed in her eyes, like an addict finally getting the drug they'd been longing for:

"Since we've already been forced to halt our transformation, we might as well devour you and start over."

The chunks of meat surged violently, like boiling lava, with huge bubbles rising to the surface.

The next moment, countless tentacles emerged from it, covered in purplish-black slime, and rushed straight at the clone Ron.

Those tentacles are not only incredibly fast, but also come in a variety of shapes.

Some of the front ends turned into sharp bone spurs, some into small mouths that spew acid, and some directly displayed structures similar to eyeballs, clearly possessing some kind of sensory ability.

The clone seemed to have anticipated this and deftly dodged it.

At the same time, he raised his hand and waved it, and a flowing metal barrier formed in the air, blocking another wave of tentacles.

That flowing protective barrier is as smooth as a mirror and as tough as steel. Every time it is impacted, it will automatically adjust its structure to perfectly disperse the force.

The tentacles struck the barrier, making a sizzling sound of corrosion, but they could not penetrate the seemingly thin but actually tough protective wall.

"Flowing protective barrier. Hayek taught that spell to the kid as well."

Oliver cursed, clearly familiar with the defense: "Mr. Holy Disc is right, this kid is a real problem."

A hint of malice flashed in his eyes, but his voice remained surprisingly calm:

“Cynthia, don’t waste your energy. This clone has clearly inherited the original’s characteristics, so we need a more direct approach.”

The clone Ron did not respond, but suddenly accelerated, moving like a ghost through the gaps between the tentacles, heading straight for the core of the flesh.

His movements were so fast they almost left afterimages; every step landed precisely in the right spot, avoiding all possible attack routes.

"Sonic oscillation erosion state!"

Invisible ripples spread from his palm, carrying a chilling whisper, and struck the lump of flesh.

Those syllables did not belong to any language Eliot knew, yet they carried a kind of ancient and powerful force, as if they came from the deepest part of the universe.

Countless black spots immediately appeared on the surface of the meat, as if it had been corroded by venom, and a purplish-black liquid seeped out from the cracks.

Oliver and Cynthia both let out painful howls, their voices a mixture of anger and disbelief.

The flesh instinctively contracted, and the tentacles shrank back into its body, seemingly protecting its core area.

Do you think you're the only one who can speak those ancient languages?

Oliver's voice suddenly changed tone, transforming into a more ancient and eerie timbre, as if some non-human being were mimicking human speech:
"We have our own methods too!"

His eyes turned completely black, like two bottomless abysses, and as his lips opened and closed, he uttered a dizzying combination of syllables.

It was another kind of sonic attack, but unlike the Starry Night Whispers used by the clone Ron, this sonic wave carried a kind of continuous echo.

Each frequency leaves a dark red afterimage in the air, like a condensation of some kind of toxic gas.

The clone Ron's movements visibly slowed, and a hint of pain flashed in his crimson-gold eyes.

“Echoes of the Abyss?” He grinned, revealing overly sharp teeth. “Interesting. But not enough.”

The next moment, the clone of Ron rushed forward like lightning, his right hand in a claw shape, aiming straight for Oliver's eye.

The claws underwent some kind of change as they moved; the fingertips became exceptionally sharp, and the surface was covered with a metallic sheen.

Cynthia screamed, and a purple wall of light formed between them, attempting to block the fatal blow. The wall of light contained a mixture of various elements: the scorching heat of fire, the flow of water, the resilience of earth, and the sharpness of wind.

The wall of light cracked like paper under the claws of the clone Ron, but this brief obstruction gave Oliver enough time to react.

His facial muscles suddenly twisted and deformed, reforming as if in liquid form.

His eye sockets suddenly enlarged, and his eyeballs bulged out, as if they were about to detach from their sockets, staring straight at the clone.

"Curse. Triggered"

Elliott felt a blur before his eyes, and the clone Ron's figure suddenly froze in mid-air, as if bound by invisible chains.

—A Ring of Death Stare
Oliver's voice carried a hint of smugness:
"This is a power that can only be released by combining the magic of Cynthia and me. Even a monster like you cannot break free from it."

Cynthia also revealed a victorious smile, her alluring face carrying a morbid excitement:

"Now, let's take a good look at what you really are."

Her fingers transformed into sharp blades, slowly approaching the frozen face of the clone Ron:

"I'm going to tear you apart and see if you're just like a regular copy, all emptiness and nothingness inside."

But just as her fleshy blade was about to touch the clone, Elliott keenly "heard" a peculiar energy fluctuation.

It was an extremely pure vibration, like the sound of crystal being gently tapped.

The next moment, countless tiny golden lines suddenly appeared on the surface of the clone Ron's body. These lines rapidly expanded, forming a complete energy field.

“This is…” A flicker of horror crossed Oliver’s eyes. “Impossible! No one at this stage can break the Death Gaze!”

The clone Ron slowly raised his head, his crimson-gold eyes seeming to burn with stars: "You think your curse will work on me?"

As he spoke, his body had completely broken free from the curse's shackles and regained its ability to move.

Oliver and Cynthia stepped back simultaneously, their expressions shifting from smugness to terror.

He muttered to himself, his voice filled with disbelief: "You're not just a simple copy, what are you?"

The clone Ron did not answer, but launched another attack.

The energy in the air instantly condensed, forming a long sword of light and flame.

—Radiant Ring Sword Form

The clone brandished a longsword of light and flame, aiming straight for the fusion of Oliver and Cynthia.

Wherever the sword passed, the air emitted a piercing shriek, as if even the airflow was being cut apart.

The fused entity unleashed its full power for defense.

Countless tentacles intertwine to form an impenetrable net, while a layer of purplish-black energy shield appears on the surface.

But it's all in vain.

The radiant longsword easily sliced ​​through all defenses and pierced deep into the core of the fusion entity.

A piercing scream echoed across the entire platform. The fused entity convulsed violently, and black liquid gushed out from its surface like a bursting water bag.

The clone Ron drew his sword, which was covered in a purplish-black liquid, but the liquid was quickly evaporated by the flames on the sword.

The fusion of Oliver and Cynthia has lost most of its fighting ability and can only huddle in a corner.

A large amount of black liquid flowed from the wound, forming a strange puddle on the ground.

"What a disappointment."

The clone Ron said softly, his voice devoid of any emotion:
"I thought they were some promising Awakened Ones, but they turned out to be nothing special. It seems the Eye of the Abyss project has failed once again."

Oliver looked up, his eyes filled with despair and resentment: "What...what are you?"

“I’ve said it before,” the clone smiled, a cold and ruthless smile. “I am merely a clone of Ron in the bloodline altar.”

"Liar!" Oliver gritted his teeth, his voice distorted with pain.
"No clone possesses such power and such a clear self-awareness. Nor can any clone withstand the death stare."

"Maybe I'm just stronger than you think?"

The clone chuckled and stepped forward, preparing to deliver the final blow: "Or perhaps, you yourselves are too weak."

These words were like a sharp knife, piercing Oliver's pride.

His face grew even paler, and the light in his eyes gradually dimmed.

"No, impossible. We've already awakened. We've absorbed so much power. According to Mr. Holy Disc, we should..."

"Mr. Holy Disc?" A hint of curiosity flashed in the clone's eyes. "Who is he?"

Oliver paused for a moment, seemingly considering whether he should answer the question.

“That’s no longer important,” Cynthia suddenly interjected, her voice unusually calm, a stark contrast to their current predicament.

"We're all going to die anyway, aren't we?"

An expression of near-relief appeared on her face:

“We knew the risks of this path all along, Oliver. We chose to pursue power, so we had to be prepared to bear all the consequences.”

"But...we could have."

Oliver's voice was filled with pain and struggle: "If Ron hadn't shown up..."

“No, it’s not entirely that kid’s fault,” Cynthia said softly.
“We chose this path ourselves. I don’t regret it, really. I’ve experienced enough joy and the power to push my limits, and that’s enough.”

A tender look appeared in her eyes as she turned to Oliver, who was pressed close to her:

"At least in the final moments, we were one, isn't that wonderful?"

Oliver looked at Cynthia, the anger in his eyes gradually subsiding, replaced by complete relief:

“You’ve always been like this, Cynthia. No matter what, you’ll only ever think about those things.”

He gave a wry smile, his voice tinged with helplessness:

“You’re right. Compared to those guys who live their whole lives doing nothing, at least we’ve tried a lot more things.”

A dying man's words are often good...

The clone watched this scene silently, a barely perceptible ripple flashing in its eyes.

But this fluctuation quickly vanished, replaced by endless coldness: "Then let's end this sooner rather than later."

Elliott observed silently from the sidelines, naturally harboring no goodwill towards Oliver and Cynthia.

When he saw Ron's clone preparing to make a move, he almost clapped and cheered.

Just as the clone was about to launch its final attack, Oliver suddenly looked up, a strange light flashing in his eyes:
"Wait. Before we take action, I want to tell you something about that 'Mr. Holy Disc'."

The clone stopped what it was doing, looking somewhat curious: "What is it?"

"I suspect he is my mentor, that cursed mentor."

Oliver's voice had become faint, but it was still clear:

"He's always had a special interest in Ron. I think Ron has some kind of 'special quality,' and given his trajectory, he was bound to catch his eye sooner or later."

The clone frowned: "I'm not Ron, what's the point of telling me all this?"

Oliver chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes:

“I’m guessing you’ll eventually be defeated by Ron himself and become a part of him, so telling you this is the same as telling him himself, isn’t it?”

These words seemed to touch a sensitive nerve in the clone, whose expression instantly turned gloomy: "Aren't you overestimating him?"

"Is that so?" Oliver suddenly felt that his defeat wasn't so hard to accept after all.

"Then why can I sense that you're afraid of him? Like prey afraid of its predator."

A flash of rage crossed the clone's eyes, and the flaming longsword in its hand plunged into Oliver's throat, severing his words.

Oliver's eyes widened, but a mocking smile appeared on his lips, as if to say, "I told you so, didn't I?"

The next moment, the fusion began to disintegrate, like a sand sculpture being washed away by waves, peeling off layer by layer.

(End of this chapter)