Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

Where is that winter star hanging high in the sky? It is clearly the eye of a cold, indifferent heaven suddenly opened, a deathly star that is pale white and blue.

In an instant, the light did not illuminate the starry sky, but rather, with a ruthless force, erased the original colors of the starry sky, leaving only a chilling pale expanse.

Endless, icy free energy particles, as if responding to a king's command, converged wildly.

They were no longer gentle elements, but transformed into extremely pure, dark blue pillars of light, devoid of any impurities.

That pillar of light was filled with despair, destruction, and death—this was not just magic, it was the rule, the irrational old tyranny of the ancient primordial era, once again reigning supreme over the land.

There was no such thing as dodging or resisting.

In an instant, Igor, the once arrogant Balrog, was struck by the dark blue beam of light.

His entire figure, along with his arrogant aura, was instantly engulfed in that dazzling, almost eerie blue light. There were no screams, because sound couldn't travel as fast as it could freeze.

Immediately afterwards, the dark blue brilliance spread outwards from Ignatius's figure as the center.

Whether it was the scalding magma, the distorted light, or the shattered void, everything tangible and intangible was covered by this rich, dark blue color.

It was as if a solidified tide had suddenly surged into the long river of time, spreading outwards layer by layer with an overbearing force.

The temperature in this space is not decreasing, but collapsing.

The intense heat, which had previously been brought about by flames and magma and seemed capable of melting steel, was greedily devoured by the chill.

A biting chill spread, as if the air itself had frozen solid, carrying an intense sense of urgency that squeezed into everyone's lungs.

Time seemed to freeze at this moment, becoming a worm sealed in amber.

When all the commotion subsided, the winter star hanging high in the sky dimmed, as if an assassin who had completed his killing had sheathed his dagger.

At this moment, the entire central arena space was completely occupied by countless dark blue solid ice.

The colors and shapes of these ice blocks are bizarre and grotesque, unlike the usual crystal clear ice. Complex and irregular mysterious patterns are condensed in the ice layer, connected to each other and intertwined, like ancient runes from the underworld, constantly emitting an icy aura that makes people feel uneasy, ominous, and even as if their souls are about to be frozen.

In the heart of this uneasy and ominous place, the spot where Igesius had stood was now empty.

Igor Sigurd seemed to have vanished into thin air, leaving no bones, no ashes, not even a trace of his existence. Only some small ice shards remained, shivering in the cold wind.

This is probably what they call "purification," so clean it's unsettling.

At that moment, all the battles taking place within the surrounding independent space battle groups ceased without anyone noticing.

Those wizards who were originally bloodthirsty, those black-robed figures who kept chanting "revival and salvation" and seemed tireless, all stopped moving like puppets whose pause button had been pressed.

Everyone stared blankly at the scene before them, their faces filled with deep confusion and bewilderment.

That expression was like that of a country bumpkin witnessing lightning striking a tree for the first time; besides awe, his mind went completely blank.

The whole scene was so quiet it was almost eerie, with only the whistling sound of the cold wind blowing through the icicles, as if mourning someone.

"The fusion of the three realms?!"

On the Thorn Ring side, Carlos stood near the invisible wall of space, his face almost pressed against the barrier.

He looked dazed and unconsciously spoke in a low voice, his voice dry and hoarse, like two pieces of rusted iron rubbing against each other.

He only remembered that just a second ago he was worried about Dago, thinking that the child was going to die at the hands of the Balrog, and his heart was in his throat.

But the next second, the world changed, and he no longer recognized it.

Carlos suddenly turned his head, his neck stiffening and making a cracking sound, and looked at Ronald.

This handsome man, who majored in ice magic and had a delicate, almost feminine appearance, now had his lips tightly pressed together, and his eyes, which usually carried a hint of arrogance, were now filled with shock and...fear.

He seemed to know what Carlos wanted to ask, but he shook his head slowly and heavily.

The meaning was clear: Don't ask me, I've never seen such a monster before, it's beyond the scope of my textbooks.

Carlos's eyes began to tremble, like the aftershocks of an earthquake, and his expression gradually changed, revealing both an instinctive reverence for the strong and a deep fear of the unknown.

Behind the two, Barker, who was being firmly protected, also witnessed everything.

In his silvery-white pupils, there flowed many indescribable lights.

His gaze lingered on the remaining dark blue ice sun and the blurry outline of the desperate winter dragon on the field. It was a feeling of delight at seeing a prey, as well as a sense of kinship. Finally, his gaze gently settled on the figure of the boy under the winter star.

A glint of light shot from the center of his silvery-white pupils, sharp and intense, as if trying to etch that figure deep into his soul.

For the first time, he felt that this boy was no longer a junior who needed to be protected, but a towering mountain that needed to be looked up to.

An invisible yet profound emotion reverberated and swelled among the onlookers in the vicinity, like a pot of boiling water that dared not bubble.

However, at the very center of the fighting arena, where everyone's attention converged, remained a stillness as hard as if it could not be melted.

It was a dead land, but also a sacred place.

"Gurgle—"

Yadar stood stiffly in mid-air, his voice sounding particularly jarring in the deathly silence.

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down with difficulty, as if he had swallowed a piece of burning coal.

His gaze lingered on the spot where Igorseus had stood, trying to find even a scrap of clothing or a bone to prove that the powerful Balrog had once existed.

But in the end, he was disappointed and despaired.

His gaze moved forward little by little, as if dragging a heavy burden, and finally landed on a tall and slender figure.

That's Dago.

His eyelids were lowered, as if he had just done something trivial, like swatting a fly.

His figure was slightly enveloped by the eerie blue light emanating from the thick, solid ice around him, making him seem as if he were standing in a terrifying and mysterious ancient forbidden land, becoming the king of that place.

Dago slowly raised his head, his movements so slow it was unsettling. His deep eyes, still retaining a hint of dark blue, met Yadar's gaze across the void.

In that instant, Yadar felt as if he had been stabbed in the heart by an invisible needle, or as if a venomous snake had licked his spine. He staggered back a few steps, his flight unsteady.

That's the prey's instinct when facing its natural enemy; it's fear etched into its very bones.

A moment later, he suddenly realized something, like a drowning man grasping at a last straw. He lowered his voice and spoke urgently and sharply, "Kill him! Quickly! Don't give him a chance to breathe! The fusion of the Three Domains is a forbidden technique; he can't possibly have the strength to use it a second time! He's at his last gasp! He's a paper tiger!"

He shouted until he was hoarse, as if only in this way could he dispel the chill in his heart, convince himself, and convince those around him.

The two third-ring wizards beside Yadar seemed to hesitate for a moment, after all, what had just happened was too horrifying.

But soon, greed and wishful thinking prevailed, and it moved, preparing to pounce on the "wounded lion".

But before they could take a single step forward, before they could even lift their legs, suddenly—

"boom!"

A muffled thud, like the beating of a giant's heart.

High in the sky, the phantom of the despairing winter dragon, which seemed on the verge of disappearing at any moment, became clear again, each scale shimmering with a cold light.

The dark blue Winter Star Eye, which had dimmed, suddenly burst forth with brilliant light once again!

That wasn't a final burst of life before death; it was the deathly gaze from ancient times, a devastating blow from a supreme deity to an ant.

A terrifying beam of light descended without a trace or warning, striking Yadar's body in an instant!

"Buzz—"

The space seemed to tremble.

The two third-ring wizards, who were just about to make their move, suddenly froze in place, as if they had been frozen in place by a spell, with one foot still dangling in mid-air, looking comical and ridiculous.

They turned their heads, their necks scraping stiffly, and saw with utter horror—

Yadar, whose body was mostly turning into ice shards and slowly drifting away.

He didn't even have time to let out a scream; his face still bore that ferocious and greedy expression, but his body had already vanished like a sand sculpture in the wind.

Cold sweat instantly streamed down their foreheads and backs; it was real cold sweat, chilling them to the bone.

They did it almost without hesitation, almost scrambling and crawling.

The two turned and left at a speed they had never seen before, as if they wished their parents had two fewer legs, quickly disappearing into nothingness without daring to utter a sound.

"Bang—"

As soon as the two left, the phantom of the Despairing Winter Dragon vanished with a roar, like a guardian who had completed its mission.

Immediately afterwards, the dark blue Winter Star, symbolizing the Eye of the Winter Dragon of Despair, also disappeared.

The three combined powers of the Dharma Domain, like water, obediently and gently receded back into Dago's body.

The world returned to calm once more, leaving only a pile of ice shards and a standing boy, as if everything that had just happened was nothing more than an absurd nightmare.