Dark Wizard: Rise! My undead army!

(Thanks again to "Black Armor of Cloud Sea City" for the [Master Certification] x2, an extra chapter for the master!)

...

The moment the words "Myriad Sacred Marks" were uttered, the hall erupted in chaos.

Those with a bit of knowledge understand the meaning of these four words, but some low-level wizards don't understand what "all things" means.

A first-ring wizard in a grey robe turned to his companion and asked.

What is the "All-Encompassing Sacred Mark"?

His companion didn't answer; he was pulling the other person aside to ask him the same question.

A third-circle wizard stood in the middle of the crowd, arms crossed, brows furrowed, repeatedly chanting the word "all things".

These two words seemed to be extremely significant.

The low-ranking wizards whispered amongst themselves, their voices growing louder and louder, buzzing like a swarm of bees.

Some people have heard of Gregor's Path of All Things, and know that it is a path that no one has ever walked before, but they are not quite clear about exactly how difficult it is.

Some people didn't know and were asking those who did. The person who knew explained a few things, and the listener was stunned and joined in the shock.

The Scarlet of Fear stood on the left side of the hall, looking up at the mark on the ceiling, his fingers clenching and unclenching inside his sleeve.

He spent decades condensing the Mark of Fear, following the path taken by his predecessors, with records to consult and experiences to follow.

The Myriad Manifestations of Saint Marks had no predecessors' experience, no reference books, nothing at all; it could only rely on its own comprehension.

A newly ascended Stigmata has walked a path no one has ever walked before.

His face was slightly pale.

The white-haired man stood on the right side of the hall, looking up as he carefully observed the holy mark.

His face appeared even whiter under the grayish-white light, almost transparent.

When he condensed the Frost Saint Mark, he spent more than 30 years refining the rules and more than 20 years consolidating the domain.

Lynn went from the third ring to the Stigmata in less than ten years, and what he condensed was the most powerful "All Things" Stigmata!

His lips were pressed into a thin line.

I deserve my defeat.

Gregor stood at the front of the crowd, head tilted back, his eyes reddening.

Under the watchful eyes of the masses, the feasibility of his own Myriad Sacred Marks was proven.

The power of the Myriad Manifestations Mark is also evident to all, as it fought against the six great marks with its newly acquired mark body!

When he proposed this path, no one believed it could be successful; even he himself hadn't succeeded.

But... Lynn succeeded!

Gregor looked down at his hands.

At this moment, it couldn't help but tremble.

Anri stood beside Field, tilting her head back, her eyes shining as she stared at the stigmata on the ceiling.

She couldn't understand the patterns, but she thought they were amazing.

"Father, my martial uncle's mark is so beautiful."

Field tilted his head back and didn't say anything.

His eyes also reddened.

I'm happy for my supervisor.

The mark on the ceiling was still slowly rotating.

Dark gold and bright gold light shimmered alternately, casting their light on everyone's face.

Lynn stood in the center of the hall, looking up at his stigmata.

This was the first time he had seen it from such close range; the image swirled on the ceiling, and the grayish-white light danced on his face.

Just as everyone was immersed in the mystery of the Myriad Imprints, a three-ring wizard wearing a dark gray robe stepped out from the crowd.

His robe was undecorated, with an iron-gray nameplate hanging at his waist. He had an old face, deep-set eyes, and long, thin fingers.

He walked up to Lynn and cupped his hands in greeting.

"Lord Lynn, I have a favor to ask."

His voice was hoarse, but clear.

"If your Holy Mark is so profound, how magnificent must the true Myriad Holy Mark be?"

"Could you please open your Stigmata Domain so that we can witness the magnificent spectacle of the Myriad Stigmata?"

Upon hearing this, the room fell silent, and several people around echoed his sentiments.

A second-ring wizard in a blue robe nodded in agreement, and a first-ring wizard in a gray robe also said he wanted to see.

Although they are still far from obtaining the Holy Mark, if they can learn something from it, they can avoid taking decades of detours.

A buzz of discussion arose from the crowd; some were expectant, some were curious, and some were simply echoing the sentiment.

Sersi glanced at Lynn and shrugged indifferently.

"This segment is not part of the banquet; whether or not to display it is your choice."

Lynn hesitated for a moment, but didn't want to spoil everyone's fun.

There was no loss in the exhibition area, and there was no risk of the Myriad Manifestations being stolen.

This is the strongest holy mark. Without extraordinary comprehension and hundreds of years of understanding, one cannot even touch the threshold of the myriad phenomena.

Even if someone wanted to learn it, they wouldn't have the talent or the opportunity.

Showing it off would actually be a form of publicity. If they really want to open a "rules study room" in the academy and use the rules of the Myriad Symbols website as teaching materials, these are all potential customers.

He nodded.

"Then I'll make a fool of myself."

He raised his right hand, and a grayish-white light emanated from his palm.

The light gathered and spread out in front of him, turning into a gray-white light and shadow.

The light and shadow grew larger and larger, expanding from the size of the tabletop to the size of the door panel, and from the size of the door panel to the size of the entire wall.

The banquet hall suddenly felt much more spacious.

In the interplay of light and shadow, black scorched earth appeared, along with a gray-white sky, from which countless streaks of light hung down.

Three thousand chains of rules, each a different color, slowly rotated under the gray-white sky.

People in the hall gathered around.

Some people took a few steps forward, some stood on tiptoe, and some craned their necks; everyone wanted to get closer to see, afraid of being taken advantage of.

High-ranking wizards stood at the front, while low-ranking wizards could only squeeze to the back. No one pushed or shoved, no one spoke, and the only sound in the hall was heavy breathing.

Three thousand chains intertwined, each connected to another, each glowing, forming a complete, giant web of rules.

A second-circle wizard in a grey robe looked up, pointing at the magnificent projection, speechless.

Another three-ring wizard in a blue robe stood at the back of the crowd, arms crossed, brows furrowed, the colors of the bands of light reflected in his pupils.

His lips moved as he silently counted the number of chains, but he got confused after counting to a few hundred and had to start counting again from the beginning.

Just as everyone was engrossed in the moment, a person suddenly appeared out of nowhere in the hall.

Nobody noticed him.

Everyone's attention was drawn to the projection on the ceiling.

He blended into the hall so gracefully.

He wore a long black robe, devoid of any decoration, with grayish-white mist swirling around its edges.

His face was very old, with wrinkles extending from his forehead to his chin, his eyes were grayish-white, and his body was emaciated.

He stood at the back of the crowd, looking up at the projection on the ceiling.

The chains of rules projected onto his gray-white pupils were reflected in his eyes, each one clearly visible.

Cersei was the first to discover him.

Her body stiffened, she stood up from the chair, and bowed to the person.

"Dean."

The other Stigmata were also startled upon hearing this, and they all bowed to the person, addressing him as Dean.

When the others in the hall heard the word "Dean," they were taken aback for a moment, then turned around and bowed to the person.

This person is none other than the current headmaster of the Bone Spire Academy, [The Destroyer] Azman Bone Song!

He was also a great true spirit wizard!

Azman didn't look at them.

His gaze remained fixed on the gray-white projection.

Three thousand chains of rules slowly rotated in his gray-white pupils, and his lips moved slightly.

"it is good."

He looked at it for a while longer, and then his lips moved again.

"it is good."

After a few breaths, he spoke for the third time.

"it is good."

Although it was three consecutive "good"s, Lynn could tell that each of the three "good"s had a different meaning.