Ancient Wizards: A Little Progress Every Day

"Whoosh—"

With a soft click, as if a tailor had cut off an extra thread, Dago's figure disappeared from the empty fighting arena, clean and swift, without the slightest hesitation.

Only starlight remained, still coldly and quietly scattering across the ground, as if what had just stood there was merely a phantom erased by the night.

Meanwhile, in another crevice of space—a small, independent space forcibly carved out by a miraculous artifact—the air was as stuffy as a sealed-off old well.

The two groups of people were facing off like fighting cocks.

On the left, they were dressed in fine clothes, their silver-white robes gleaming in the dim light, embroidered with intricate and delicate blue electric current patterns, as if proclaiming their noble lineage—the elite of the Thunder Tower.

However, this noble figure now appeared somewhat disheveled, like a phoenix with its feathers plucked. Despite having the advantage in numbers, its imposing presence was diminished.

The right side only has two people.

They were completely hidden in wide black robes, like two blobs of thick ink that could not be dissolved, or like ghosts crawling out of hell. Their faces could not be seen, and one could only feel the suffocating, chilling aura emanating from beneath the robes.

That was the powerful aura of a third-ring wizard, like two mountains pressing down on the hearts of everyone in the Thunder Council.

If it weren't for the long-haired middle-aged wizard at the head of the group—who was also a third-ring wizard—holding things up, these wizards, who were used to being pampered, would probably have already knelt down and begged for mercy.

"Don't worry, you won't be in any danger for the time being..."

One of the men in black robes spoke, his voice low and hoarse, like two rusty pieces of iron rubbing against each other, making one's teeth ache, "If your Thunder Tower's miracle wizards can readily hand over the World Stone, everyone here has a chance to survive... Of course..."

The man in black robes slightly raised his head. Although his eyes were not visible, everyone could feel the two greedy and mocking gazes sweeping over them, like a butcher examining meat on a chopping board.

He slowly opened his arms, as if embracing the world, yet it sent a chill down one's spine.

"The Old Days Revival Association also welcomes everyone to join us. That is also the purpose of our visit."

"Only a madman would associate with you vermin who willingly enslave to darkness and can only live in the shadows!"

The middle-aged wizard of Thunder Tower muttered a curse under his breath.

His face was pale, but his eyes remained cold, like a frozen stone.

He knew that this was nothing but crocodile tears from the other side. In the face of absolute power, the so-called "welcome to join" was just a euphemism for "kneeling down and becoming a dog."

The man in black robes was not annoyed by what he heard. He simply shook his head slightly, his movements as elegant as a gentleman's, yet revealing an air of condescending arrogance.

"You don't understand us because you don't understand the true Revival Church. Cleansing the new sun is not our goal; pursuing true truth and becoming strong... that is the core that unites us."

His voice took on a fervent, chanting quality, as if reciting a sacred hymn: "All we do is simply our unique way of seeking the essence. You don't understand, so you slander, defining us with foolish words like light and darkness..."

He paused, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "If the Tower of the Old Revival Society stood atop the entire continent, would you become worms living in the shadows? It's like the saying 'the victors are kings, the losers are villains,' history is always written by the victors, isn't it?"

These words seemed to carry a strong spiritual bewitching quality, like a venomous snake, silently slithering into the ears of everyone in the Thunder Tower.

In that instant, a few of the younger wizards with weaker wills showed a hint of bewilderment and wavering on their faces, as if what the man in black robes had said was some profound truth.

"Shut up!"

The middle-aged wizard at the head of the group suddenly let out a sharp shout, like a thunderclap from a clear sky, instantly shattering the bewitching aura that permeated the air.

His face was ashen. If he let this guy continue talking, his men would probably lose heart before he even made a move.

At this critical juncture, when tensions were running high and a conflict was about to erupt, a sudden change occurred in the empty space in the center of this isolated little space where the two sides were facing off.

The air rippled like the surface of water after a pebble has been thrown in.

It was a fluctuation of spatial energy, abrupt and violent, yet carrying an eerie calm.

Immediately afterwards, a tall and slender figure dressed in a gray-black robe suddenly and without warning emerged from the ripples.

He was a handsome young man with a calm and composed face, as if he had just passed through the door of his own house.

When he appeared, he did not show any panic. Instead, he immediately looked around calmly, even somewhat scrutinizingly.

This sudden turn of events left everyone present stunned.

Both the wizards of Thunder Tower and the black-robed men of the Revival Society seemed to be frozen in place, staring blankly at this uninvited guest.

This is like a lost kitten suddenly falling between two packs of wild dogs facing off, creating an extremely awkward situation.

A brief silence, a deathly stillness.

Then—

"boom!"

One of the men in black robes was the first to react. Whether out of instinctive killing intent or enraged by the boy's calm gaze, he attacked without warning.

With a wave of his hand, a surge of immense magical energy, like a black tsunami, crashed down on the boy's location with destructive force.

The energy fluctuations were so intense that the surrounding space groaned under the strain.

However, the young wizard's reaction was astonishingly fast.

The boy moved the instant he made his move, even before he raised his hand.

Instead of dodging or defending, he made a move that surprised everyone.

He casually slid a silver-white dagger from his sleeve, his movements so practiced it was heartbreaking. Without even looking, he gently stabbed the dagger into his own shoulder.

"Pfft."

The sound of a sharp blade piercing flesh was masked by the roar of the spell, but the splatter of blood was particularly glaring.

The boy's figure blurred again in the next instant, as if erased by an eraser, and vanished from the spot.

"Boom!"

The black-robed man's spell missed its target, slamming into the ground and creating violent energy fluctuations, sending debris flying and dust billowing up.

The wizards from the Thunder Tower were forced to tense up by the aftershocks and retreated hastily, fearing they might be caught in the crossfire.

Two men in black robes flashed and suddenly appeared at the spot where the boy had just appeared and then disappeared.

They stared at the empty ground, their previous composure and mockery gone, replaced by anxiety and shock.

At this moment, they no longer cared about the "bugs" in the Thunder Tower.

"That's the coordinate! I recognize his face!" one of the men in black robes said urgently, his voice filled with disbelief.

"Didn't Yadar and Iggyus go and take care of him?!" Another man in black robes exclaimed in surprise. "How did he end up here? Did those two good-for-nothings fail?"

"I don't know why... he managed to escape! And judging from his appearance, he seems to have mastered some kind of spatial teleportation technique!"

"Quickly notify the others... If we get the World Stone but not the coordinates, we'll all be punished! You know how they operate..."

"Um!"

The two spoke hurriedly, and the information revealed between the lines left the people from the Thunder Tower who were standing nearby completely confused, but they could vaguely guess that the young man's identity was not simple.

Immediately afterward, under the astonished and uncertain gazes of the Thunder Tower wizards, one of the black-robed figures flickered and actually used a secret technique to quickly disappear into the void, as if following the boy from before, and vanished in the blink of an eye.

This turn of events happened so fast, like an absurd drama where the curtain fell before the actors even appeared on stage.

Seeing that only one member of the Revival Society in black robes remained in the arena, the middle-aged wizard from Thunder Tower's side had a sudden glint in his eyes.

It's like a flock of sheep that was initially surrounded by two wolves, but suddenly discovers that one of the wolves has gone after a rabbit. The remaining wolf doesn't seem so invincible after all.

opportunity!

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!

The middle-aged wizard took a deep breath, suppressing the shock and doubt in his heart.

He knew that this was not the time to investigate the boy's origins; dealing with the enemy at hand was the priority.

A moment later, his lips moved rapidly, and the low, obscure chanting of incantations echoed in the space. A powerful wave of spiritual energy emanated from his body, forming visible ripples around him.

It was a resolute determination, a desperate stance.

The last remaining man in black robes sensed the disturbance. He slowly turned his head and looked at the middle-aged wizard. Although his expression was unclear, his tone was still full of indifference and disdain.

"It seems you still have many misunderstandings about us..." he said calmly, black energy beginning to swirl around his hand. "In that case, let me show you what true despair is."

"boom!"

The battle was interrupted by the boy's unexpected intrusion, but it reignited after his departure, becoming even more intense and brutal than before.

That's pretty much how the world is; one person's turn ends and another's begins. Everyone is struggling for their own survival and desires. As for who that boy really is and where he's going, perhaps only the wind knows.

The middle-aged wizard of Thunder Tower shone with a brilliant silver light, like a dazzling silver sun, and crashed into the dark shadow.

"For the sake of thunder!"

The roar echoed in the small space, making people's eardrums ache.

Outside that void, Dago was clutching his shoulder, navigating the turbulent currents of space.

He didn't know where he would jump to this time, but he knew that as long as he was alive, he had to keep running and keep fighting.

He was searching for a way out, a path to survival that belonged to him.